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elliotoille · 5 years ago

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Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help

I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing.

I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs.

^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.

^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.

^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.

Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:

1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully.

2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.

3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft

thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.

4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.

1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view

2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.

3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.

1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.

2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.

so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.

anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.

aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want

and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.

DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol

#god im long winded as usual #Anonymous

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blackbat05 · 3 years ago

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I need a break

Shangqi x Reader (Platonic)

A/N: I feel like I’m loosing steam towards the end of my placement and wow I have never needed a break this badly before. Perhaps a short Shangqi x Reader imagine where they are both University students. Seriously at this rate I’ll just be solely a Shangqi writer HAHAHA. Doing this on my phone because I don’t want to open my work computer. Let’s see where this impromptu idea takes me to. Hope you enjoy it and as always like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: None really, just friends supporting each other! I guess there’s an inaccurate timeline if you look at the MCU but hey this is an imagine plus if you look at some of the wiki pages, Shangqi is actually born in 1998/1999. So appreciate if you’re kind enough to go with the flow to read this comfort fic!

‘Y/N!’ Shangqi rushes to catch up with you after class. You made an effort to conceal your tiredness but he saw it right through. ‘Gosh…you alright?’

You think to yourself. Were you really alright? The answer was pretty obvious. You were ten weeks into your placement and your emotions were a jumbled up mess. Having to deal with work responsibilities was one problem, school assignments were another issue all together. At this point, you felt like you were just getting through each week for the sake of it.

At first, you believed that what you were going through was simply a transition to becoming an adult. You thought that naturally, you would be able to persevere through the stressful periods by yourself. But of course, it has been hard.

You were a social work intern at a neighborhood youth centre, thirty minutes away if you took the train and bus. The work was fulfilling in it’s own ways, but recently there were self-doubts filling your brain, if you were really cut out for the job in the future. If you weren’t, what else could you do?

As you sat with Shangqi in the school’s student-ran cafe, you found yourself pouring out the exact same concerns to him. Credit to him, Shangqi never interrupted your monologue, he just simply listened. That’s what best friends were for. That’s what you did for him to when he ran into issues with his family.

Even then, he couldn’t deny that hearing you doubt yourself broke his heart. He had known you since high school. You mostly kept to yourself and one or two close friends. Despite joining the school’s athletic team where you were one of the main athletes, you preferred to stay in the shadows unlike some of your teammates. That didn’t stop you from going out of your way to help other students in need; like helping the girl who was in an arm cast to copy the social studies notes, even if it meant you had to do it twice. Or maybe just talking to a friend who was stressed out about their results.

Basically, you had studied your ass off to get a secured spot at this university who were only one of the few that offered the degree. He remembers you telling him the moment you got your offer, ‘I’m finally good at something. I don’t have to worry anymore!’

Shangqi wasn’t stupid. The pandemic had done some crazy things. And by crazy, it affected the self-esteem that you had been working so hard on by participating in various projects and events, with you being in charge of a drama production that was promoting on mental health. That was a big deal considering that you were a major introvert.

Online engagement was never easy. In fact he has heard some of your struggles that you’ve shared with him regarding this and it only makes him admire you even more. For someone who preferred to keep to themselves, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to take on a role that wasn’t just simply about helping people - that took guts.

‘I’m sorry I’m just loading you with all this. I just feel…’ You trailed off, suddenly becoming emotional again. Again, Shangqi does not pry. ‘That I can’t do anything right.’ You emphasize that you had ended the statement for you were unsure that you could keep your cool if you had tried to continue on.

‘If I hear you saying sorry another time,’ he chides, ‘you’re paying for our meal later.’ Your lips curved upwards slightly before returning to its somber position. Shangqi decides that a meal won’t cut it. He needs to deploy ‘Operation Y/N’. Standing up with your buzzer to collect the food, Shangqi whips out his phone. There will be a few changes for today.

Food was definitely a cure in this situation, but it was only a part of the solution. After inhaling your ramen at light speed, Shangqi tells you that today will be a different Friday. ‘And you can’t complain! It’ll be a weekend tmr,’ he tells you. So why not? You figured that even if you went back home early, your head wouldn’t be in the right place to complete the essay for your English module.

‘Hold up! The VR studio that Katy was talking about?’ You look at the tickets inside the taxi that was taking you and Shangqi to the location. ‘How did you even, it was so hard to get these tickets!’ From the time Shangqi met you outside the classroom, he had yet to see you so ecstatic. Until now.

‘Well,’ Shangqi gives his best shrug. ‘I called in a favor from a friend. Said that it was for emergency purposes.’ He raised his fingers to make connotations in the air much to your amusement.

‘Wow… just how much do I not know about you Mr Popular?’ You teased. Shangqi decides to leave the fact on him having to persuade the Wakandan Princess in giving him free tickets.

‘Please! I swear whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! It’s for Y/N!’

‘Ey well why didn’t you say so? If it’s for that nice friend, of course!’ Shuri leaves the entrance of the compound, an exasperated Shangqi trailing behind.

Yeah, the VR studio that Katy told them about was also funded by King T’Challa himself. With stunning life like visuals thanks to Wakandan technology, the VR studio was located in a middle class neighborhood. T’Challa believed that no matter where kids came from, they should have the right to enjoy and to explore the world. For now, he wasn’t ready to share that he was on the way on becoming a full-fledged Avenger yet - you just had too much on your plate. He’ll just have to settle with this white lie.

‘Is Katy coming?’ You were on the verge of vibrating off your seat. ‘She would love this place!’ Even when you were struggling, Y/N still manages to think about other people. Today, Y/N will put her needs first.

As if to answer your previous question, you can see an equally excited Katy waiting for the two of you at the roundabout. ‘HEL-LO EVERYONE! LET’S GET OUR FRIDAY STARTED IN PROPER SHALL WE?’ Her loud voice had attracted stares, some very displeased looks too but at this point in time, you didn’t give a damn. Katy was right, it was time to enjoy!

You wished that you could slow down time, or even replay it continuously when you needed cheering up because the only thing you felt was pure happiness - euphoria even. Your stomach was in knots for laughing hysterically together with Katy when Shangqi jumped in shock from a surprise scare from a zombie. ‘I’m keeping that for leverage,’ she tells you, quietly slipping her phone into her fanny pack.

The Wakandans had really outdone themselves this time. Your favorite VR was the paradise VR. Slipping the headgear, you say goodbye to the smiles of Katy and Shangqi, whisking away to a beach that oddly reminded you of your dream destination - Hawaii. From where you were standing, you were surrounded by green and majestic islands. Despite their sheer size, you weren’t intimidated. In fact, you were healing.

Your mind was no longer in the room of the VR studio. How could it when the sun kissed your skin, giving you the much needed energy that you were lacking for so long? In the room, the two sees you kick your shoes to the side, going barefoot. It may have seem strange, but with the monitor beside you, your actions were perfectly logical.

As a kid, you used to despise the prickly feeling of sand in between your toes. But now, you grew to love the sensation that each grain of sand had on your skin. It made you feel grounded, that everything was going to be ok. You raise your virtual hand to touch your face - were you crying?

‘She must have been really stressed huh?’ Katy whispers to Shangqi who nods in return. How he hated the fact that you were giving so much to your work but still felt underappreciated. Forget the Avengers with superhuman abilities, you were the true MVP. The VR ends and you remove your headgear. ‘I’m ok,’ you automatically reassure them despite the dry tears left on both cheeks. You step down the platform slowly, trying to regain sense of the real world.

What you didn’t expect was the two embracing you in a hug, squishing you in between them. Maybe that had set off the waterworks. For someone like Katy, she had sage advice.

‘Life can be pretty shitty right? But I’m so proud of you fighting it Y/N. Just remember that it’s ok to be weak. I mean, I’ve seen worse from Shangqi,’ she jabs her finger towards his direction, earning a glare from him. That’s Katy, always trying to add a bit of humor to this grey world. Calming down, you let go of the both of them. ‘Thanks guys, for everything.’

‘Hey,’ Shangqi responds, slinging his arm over your shoulder. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t leave each other behind.’ Phone beeping, he retrieves it to check the message. ‘And look at that, nice timing. Who wants Korean BBQ?’

Trailing behind them, you get an amusing view of Shangqi bickering with Katy on how many Soju bottles she’s allowed to order later. As San Francisco welcomed the night, you were just thankful that you had the two of them to walk through this crazy maze called life.

‘Last one to the shop is paying!’

‘Oh you’re on Mister!’

A/N: I really just think that this was also an imagine for me to cope too. So I can only hope to finish my placement/assignments/exams well! To anyone who does studies and work simultaneously, I fucking respect you (allow me to use expletives for now, these people deserve the respect). If you’re going through a stressful time, I hope this brings the slightest comfort for you and remember… YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Again, thank you for reading!

#shang chi #xu shangqi #shangqi x reader #shangqi imagine #katy shang chi #shang chi x reader #shangqi #simu liu

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ufonaut · 3 years ago

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you may have already answered this kind of question so i apologize if you have, but i’m wondering what you think a majority of comic fans miss with understanding subtext and characters? like outside of what you’ve already spoken about (personal headcanons and feelings) is it just that a lot of fans don’t have the media literacy they think they do? or just newer fans that have only read the most popular series. i only ask bc sometimes i worry i don’t know if i’m reading between the lines correctly and if you’d share like.. ig your process for drawing conclusions ab characters? i feel like i may have answered my own question here LOL

ah, no, i've never spoken about this at length and i'm honestly flattered you reached out, thank you! i don't have a process per se, i think my interest in engaging with comics the way i do comes from doing film studies at uni and seeing the two mediums as having more common ground than with literature per se due to the visual doing the heavy lifting but i do sincerely believe that anyone can read the text as it's meant to be understood if they only apply themselves -- and the fact of the matter is that many people don't.

i'd say you got it in one, it's a case of both overestimating and underestimating their media literacy and i think a lot of the time particularly fandom-y blogs see things that simply aren't there and try to write meta that serves their purposes rather than shed some light on the text they're talking about. the way i see it, there's three fundamental questions to ask yourself before getting started on any comics analysis worth its salt

1) what's the objective reality of this?

2) is this a common trope/phrase? is it evocative of or a homage to a certain piece of media that has entered the basic pop culture lexicon?

3) how much of the author spilled into this?

and to elaborate on that:

1) before you get to the subtext, it's only natural to build up on a foundation of facts. i mean, the really basic stuff -- who, what, when, why.

for example, looking at my recent posts regarding hal jordan's timeline, take his stories in the flash (1959) backups running throughout #220 - 246. he's coming off a year-long road trip with ollie queen and he's been unemployed the entire time, he's not only broke but living in poverty, he's depressed. none of this is a great feat of analysis, these are all facts verbally stated by the character with the sole exception of the last one -- but how do we know that? several stories have hal's will faltering, several others see him having difficulties scrounging up enough money for food let alone a roof over his head. logic dictates that his circumstances affect his mental health.

sometimes it really is purely about recognising what's right in front of you and putting it in context, you can't talk about these backups without talking about what preceded them (the hard travelling heroes era) because they do not exist in a vacuum. unless you're talking about an elseworlds/one-shot/limited series/complete run from start to finish it's absolutely impossible to properly engage without context, that's also where the common misconception that comic book timelines are confusing comes from.

2) i don't expect people to just be naturally born with this knowledge but i think it's pretty easy to get a sense of what's a reference (even if it's not one you recognise) and what's not and making an effort to research that, even if it's just a quick google search. this is a common complaint i've seen in attempted meta of tom king's work on here so let me bring up some examples from his recent mature books

(the human target 2021 #3)

"booster is booster is booster" isn't merely repetition for the sake of repetition but very obviously a play on the common "a rose is a rose is a rose" phrase, which has been used in all media for decades now and yet was brought up in at least five different posts on here as an example of 'bad writing' (regarding the literal structure of it) rather than just owning up to their lack of knowledge.

and this also applies to shot-for-shot recreations such as mr terrific's scene with alanna strange's dad

and how it's an acknowledged reference/homage to sidney poitier in in the heat of the night (1967)

and all that says about the role mr terrific plays within strange adventures' narrative. again, this is knowledge better researched if not immediately recognised and you'll often find it mentioned in issue reviews if necessary.

3) as we all know, comics are a collaborative effort like nearly no other piece of art. the finished product is not only the work of the writer, artist, inker, colorist & letterer (all of which play vital roles in the process) but that of the editor as well and this is another instance where 'doesn't take place in a vacuum' applies. i'm all for death of the author but the direction a character is heading is definitely informed by the entire creative team's experiences and expectations, i think it's worth investigating what the people in question have had to say about it -- especially regarding an older comic -- after you've formed your own opinions.

there's cases where the writers make conscious decisions to disguise their opinions or where they're coming from and their success varies (take chuck dixon's work on connor hawke vs gerard jones' horrific depiction of arisia rrab) but there's also comics that are infinitely made better because the writer in question relates deeply to the characters they're writing (look at tom king's very personal depictions of mental health or keith giffen's insistence on giving an air of genuine reality to any working class character), that's even setting aside cases of gay characters being written by straight writers and so on. here, i'd sincerely recommend drawing a line between what's just another job for somebody and what's mattered to them intensely and if you want to take your engagement this far then it's definitely vital to check interviews, comic magazines, etc etc.

so yeah, here's a little look into my line of thinking! i hope it helps some and i'm sure you're doing just great if you're concerned about this to begin with :)

#asks #anon #dc #dc comics #comics meta

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blacksunscorpio · 4 years ago

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Astro Musings No. 5

Placements Most Prone to Getting Stuck in Abusive Relationships

Are usually people with Venus in Scorpio because of the intensity of how they love and the intensity in which people love them back, Venus in Libra due to their penchant for trying to see the good in those they love. Venus square/opposing Neptune, due to these natives often idealizing those who do not deserve it. Venus in Pisces, due to their savior complexes. People with Moon squaring their Mars’, or Moon conjunct/squaring/opposing their Pluto’s— often they associate pain and intensity of feeling as equatable to love. These are the types of people who feel deeply and often have a hard time entertaining the idea of love unless there is some sort of “suffering” involved.

Many with Moon or Venus squaring Saturn

Can endure the same thing/have the same habits. I’ve found with the latter two the duration of these relationships will last a lot longer. This is because Saturn adds longevity to relationships.

Nessus in aspect to Dejanira in synastry

Can also cause obsession or at its worst, abuse. Sparknotes version of the Greek myth is a wild centaur named Nessus attempted to kidnap and rape Dejanira as he was ferrying her across the river Euenos, but she was rescued by Heracles. If you’ve ever watched Disney’s Hercules, Megara is the Hollywood version of this broad. In regard to synastry Dejanira is the asteroid of the victim, especially sexual, and Nessus indicates the abuser. If this appears in synastry you can be certain two people will have some sort of abuse involved in their relationship or some sort of intense obsession with each other than may not be altogether healthy. Be careful if it aspects [in square or opposition] Sado or Algol. No bueno. If touching Chiron it there will be some sort of lesson involved. Make sure it’s one worth learning. Aspects like these in astrology can be very humbling.

Typically if One Has an Aspect Natally it Will Often Appear in Synastry With Another.

For example, One can have their Sun opposing their moon and often attract people whose moons oppose or square their sun. If one has a Mercury squaring their Pluto, they may attract someone whos Pluto square’s their Mercury. You can often always trace a synastry aspect back to one or the other person’s natal chart.

People with Venus Conjunct Lilith

Will have enormous sex appeal. Their basic femininity will be in touch with their wild femininity. If in the 10th house, they may make a career out of it. Become models or make money off their figures. One of my best friends is a porn star and has this aspect. Her ‘Only Fans’ is poppin’.

People with Sagittarius 5th houses

Can/will adopt children from other countries or have children in countries other than their native land. Angelina Jolie’s 5th house is in Sagittarius and her whole brood save for 3 are of different ethnicities. People with the same rising sign as you often deal with many of the same issues as you and therefore, can be easier to have friendships/relationships with. This is typically because two people will have the same houses/house sign cusps.

Placements That Make One Lucky

Are often strong Jupiter placements. Jupiter rules fortune and is in general a benefic planet. Wherever he touches will show growth or excess of energy. It is best when he is working harmoniously. So, Jupiter trining/conjunct/sextiling inner planets or Jupiter trining the north node. Jupiter as the most elevated planet is a good indicator of someone who often gets lucky in the nick of time. Luck often comes through at the clutch for these folks. Asteroid Fortuna, Fama, or Abundantia making harmonious/conjunctions to planets like Jupiter, the Sun, or the Moon. The Sun in the 10th house is a good indicator of someone lucky in their career. Asteroid Karma No. 3811 in favorable aspect to inner planets, and/or Asteroid Talent No. 33154 in favorable aspect to inner planets or in benefic houses.

A good place to look to see determine someone’s physical features is often their Sun, Rising, Dominant planet, or Midheaven.

Yes, I know, not very exciting but I keep telling you guys to stop ignoring your Sun. It is the most powerful Planet in your chart. However, if we were to look beyond the Sun, Your rising sign is your face. Someone with a Scorpio rising will inevitably have some sort of intensity to them. 9 times out of 10, it has something to do with their eyes. The Midheaven will also show you a bit more, usually how a person carries themselves. I often find those with Virgo or Venus Midheavens [women] are very good in heels. Good with structured walking. Men will often have model-esque walks as well. Attention grabbers. Same with those with Capricorn MC’s. Neptune MC’s have a bit of a “swagger to their walk” like they’re swimming through air. Gemini MC’s are often very light on their feet. Aries MC’s walk in a very militaristic way. Straight backed. Authoritarian. George W. Bush has an Aries MC and walks in such a way.

Psychic connections in Synastry [Platonic or Romantic]

Are usually 12th house, 8th house, 1st house, or 9th house placements/Overlays. Aspect-wise typically Moon to the lunar nodes, Uranus to the Nodes or Moon, Vertex to nodes, PLUTO, or NEPTUNE to Mercury. Mercury to Moon, Mercury to Uranus, or Neptune. These are all highly psychic points. Having these placements in synastry/overlay will usually indicate dreaming of the other person, prophetic dreams [especially if 9th house or Jupiter is involved] Knowing what the other person is thinking or gut hunches about the person’s well being. If in harmonious aspect these will make you feel closer to the person or bolster feelings of affection. In hard aspect, it can cause obsession or the other person may feel as if they are “haunting” you. Trust me.

A Singleton Planet

is a planet posited in the only sign or house of its type [element, mode, or orientation]. For example, if your sun is the only planet in a water house, or if your moon is the only planet in a sign of universal orientation, those would be singletons. Singletons are EXTREMELY powerful forces in the natal chart. They can be considered focal points of consciousness, sometimes vehicles of manifestation. They are widely understood to have extreme expressions (or repressions) which are heavily symbolic in a native’s entire life.

People with many Aries placements, strong Martian influence, [especially if in aspect to Mercury or Mars], or hard Plutonic aspects [including conjunctions] tend to enjoy more aggressive forms of music. The types to listen to heavy metal/rock or hardcore gansta rap.

Leo and Aquarius mixing in a natal chart or in the 2nd house can make someone have a bit of a “bark” like voice.

Venus retrograde natives may have had a hard time or still have a hard time in their social lives especially if it’s placed in the 11th house.

On Chiron

People with Chiron in Aries have a fear of failure. Can suffer from identity issues. They can heal by empowering others and being independent. Chiron in Taurus feel as if they never have enough. May have grown up a bit poor or might feel as if they don’t deserve nice things. They can heal by being financially responsible, but also treating themselves to something nice once in a while. Chiron in Gemini feels like no one understands them, may have suffered from feeling unintelligent or their mental pursuits were discouraged. They can heal by speaking up. Writing or singing. Translating their pain into beautiful intellectual activity. Chiron in Cancer feel as if they can’t be vulnerable They may have been made to feel ashamed of their emotions. May have suffered neglect at home, specifically from the mother. They can heal by taking care of others. Cooking. Expressing themselves to those they trust. Not everyone will hurt you. Chiron in Leo may have suffered from being invalidated in life. Feeling rejected. Having impossible standards forced on them. Not getting recognition for their talents. They can heal through channeling creativity into art. Helping others see their worth. Being playful and bold in their own self-expression. Chiron in Virgo may suffer from some sort of distorted self-image. Perfectionism or excess of criticism from others/family. As a result, they can either be extremely critical or compensate by being people pleasers. They can heal by maintaining their health and seeing a counselor [remember Mercury who rules the mind is the ruler of Virgo so mental health is NOT something to ignore.]

People with Venus in Taurus

Are actually some of the slowest moving people in terms of romance. Even more than Capricorn Venusians. They love to take their sweet time. If they were to be a Tarot card, they’d be the Knight of Pentacles. Methodical, slow-moving, careful. They are caring but terrified of choosing the wrong person, being abandoned, or making the wrong move. They study the object of their affections almost to the level of Plutonians [but without the dark appeal]. This is because they want to know how and what pleases the other person. Very traditional.

Cancerians

Are very jealous in love and can give Scorpios a run for their money.

Leo Moons

LOVE ATTENTION I've noticed even more than Leo suns. Why? Because validation is often tied to what makes them feel good emotionally [moon]. These are the people who will post about 20 snap or insta stories talking about their day.

Gemini Mars’

Have a problem with dry-snitching on themselves. This is because their drive is tied with their intellect and speech. As a result, they can often find themselves saying more than they mean to.

Aquarian placements

Are high-key opinionated but are can also be the least accepting of other points of view, especially if Saturn/Capricorn is in the mix. This is because they are fixed air. So their mindsets/intellectual opinions are hard-pressed to change. Good luck trying to win an argument with one. However, they do move on quickly because they are detached by nature.

Sagittarians/strong sag placements will often make friends the easiest out of any zodiac sign. Opinionated but their curiosity for people from all walks of life makes it easy to relate to them. Those who come after would most likely be Gemini moons or 5th House/ 11th House Leo’s.

6th house placements, especially if Leo or Pisces sits on the cusp often are very good with animals. Piggybacking on that, Piscean placements tend to have an almost telepathic ability with animals.

Cats seem to take to Scorpionic people very easily, even if the native doesn’t care for them. As a matter of fact, most Scorpionic people have a knack with animals that are nocturnal. Spiders, Owls, Cats, Foxes. These animals will likely find a Scorpio native/ those with heavy Scorpio placements out of nowhere or perhaps never bite them.

Astro Musings No. 1 Astro Musings No. 2 Astro Musings No. 3 Astro Musings No. 4 Astro Musings No. 6 Astro Musings No. 7 Astro Musings No. 8 Astro Musings No. 9 Astro Musings No. 10

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years ago

Note

"You're joking." Bailey took another drag from his cigarette, an unamused glare leveled at his only real friend. Eden sat across from him, on the other side of his desk. The chair he was in, too small for his height and weight. It creaked when the hunter shifted, sitting up straighter in the chair ment for children and teens.

"I'm not." Eden's deadpan expression and monotone response felt like a punch in the gut. Or a knife in the back. Not that Bailey would let him know that.

The caretaker let out a cloud of smoke before snuffing his cigarette in the ashtray to his left. He opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, the cheap stuff you used to get wasted fast. He kept the good stuff at home, the expensive, quality kind ment to be sipped on while reading by the fire, his spouse's head in his lap. Resting, or blowing him; he didn't care which. God, he wished he could be there instead right now.

The cap of the bottle was uncerimoniously flicked off, bouncing off the wall and landing in the trash across the room. Bailey brought the glass to his lips and began drinking the amber liquid.

"Nice shot-"

"Don't fucking start with me, Eden." Bailey snapped, bringing the whiskey down hard on his desk. The sound was a lot louder in the otherwise quiet room. For a moment, the only sound was from his ancient computer. The monitor humming with life. He had three new emails from high paying clients, but he couldn't focus on anything but the sick joke in front of him.

"You're being childish." Eden grunted, shifting in the wooden chair.

"Childish? I'm being childish?! You're the one who's trying to fuck my kid!" Bailey's hands came down on the desk, his chair pushed out from under him as he stood. Eden quirked an eyebrow.

"You sell children all the time. Figured it'd be the same with that one." He shrugged, much too calm for Bailey's liking. He grit his teeth and breathed heavy out his nose. There'd be no good in killing Eden. He'd feel bad about it, his kid would be crushed and, most importantly, his spouse would be upset.

He used his foot to drag his leather office chair back to him and ran his hands through his hair, mussing it. He dropped back down in his seat and glowered at his "friend".

"It's different with my kid." He said sternly. He hadn't kept many secrets from Eden in regards to his home life. Hell, he let you visit him! Eden knew damn well you were one of two people he gave a shit about and yet here he was!

"Is it because your spouse?" Eden asked, cocking his head to the side like a dog. He spent too much time in the woods. He was going feral. He was going fucking feral and he wanted to buy Bailey's only (actual) child. He didn't give a shit if you were an adult, almost finished with high school and ready for uni. He was your father damn it! You were still a baby to him!

"No. It's not because of my spouse." Before he felt the itch to grab his gun itch up his arm, he took another long swig of whiskey. How could Eden not get it? He was like family to you! To him! What the actual fuck?!

"You think someone else would take better care of them?" Eden countered. Had Bailey said that out loud? Regardless, the caretaker pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's not the point Eden." He let out a defeated groan.

"What is?" Bailey stared hard at Eden, searching for any hint of humor or malice, or anything that might give away that his childhood friend didn't actually want to bone his baby.

"The point," He found none. Bailey ran his hands through his hair again.

"Eden, is that you're like an uncle to them. It's as close to incestuous as you could possibly get. Not only that, you're significantly older than them and quite frankly," Bailey pulled out another cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag before letting the smoke fill the air between them.

"I'd rather they leave for uni and never have to come back here. I don't want them living in the forest with a man who's forgotten basic decencies. Like not requesting to engage in sexual acts with their friends' kid." Bailey held his fresh cig between his middle and ring fingers, studying Eden. He didn't want it to come to blood, but he'd done worse things in his life. Eden chuckled.

"So there's something you won't take money for." He said, his smile genuine and amused. His spouse would be so upset if he killed Eden. They'd be so, so disappointed if he went home with bruises and bloody knuckles from beating the shit out of their friend. He was sure they would understand, of course, he just didn't want them knowing it came to blows. His perfect little spouse was already aware of all the horrible, fucked up shit he did. He didn't want to push it.

"Two somethings." Bailey corrected. He had a small picture of you and your other parent hidden in his desk. Helped him not kill the orphans that were too young to sell. It was also helping him resist the urge to smash the half drank bottle of whiskey over Eden's head.

"I'm not asking for you to pimp them out." Eden spoke like they were talking about the weather. Like Bailey wasn't doing his damndest not to kill him.

"I said, I wanted to buy them. For keeps." Bailey flicked the ash off his cigarette.

"And what does for keeps mean?" Bailey could see the gears turning in Eden's head. He didn't like it. Eden wasn't dumb muscle. He was strong, sure but he was also smart and resourceful. That made him dangerous. After an agonizing minute passed, Eden spoke.

"Like you and your spouse." Bailey blinked slowly, dumbfounded.

"You want to marry my eighteen year old. Who you've known since they were an infant."

"Yes." Bailey sat back in his chair and pulled a phone from his pocket. Not one of his burner phones he used for criminal activity, but one he bought specifically to contact you and his spouse. He quickly selected your other parent's number and called them.

The pair listened as it rang, and a soft voice came from the line. The sound of something boiling and the clattering of dishes could be heard in the background.

"Hello?" Bailey's spouse answered. Bailey ran his free hand through his hair again, further wrecking it. He was an incredibly prideful man. If Eden had been anyone else, he'd be dead. If his spouse was anyone else, he wouldn't speak to them. If you were anyone else, he wouldn't give a shit. But three strikes and he's out.

"Eden's lost his mind. I can't speak with him. Please explain to him why he can't marry our child." He knew he sounded pathetic and defeated. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Thus, he chose the option that wouldn't affect his marriage.

"I'll be there in five." Oh. They sounded so... Angry. He hadn't expected that. They were always so soft and gentle, they rarely got really, truly angry at any one person. Of course, this was their baby they were talking about. You were as precious to them as you were Bailey.

Eden seemed just as curious to see them pissed off as he was.

(- anon 🚩 then Prequel!pc showed up, the three of them yelled at eachother, exchanging low blows and personal insults and then current!pc came in cause no one was home and eden proposed and they said yes and they left together and fucked for a whooooooooole week. The end.)

Oh what I would give to be a fly on that wall.

And you just know Current-PC and Eden would come visit for dinner every week and Bailey would have to sit there while his best friend hand-feeds his kid, who still sits in his lap regardless of where they are. Pre-PC might purposefully burn Eden’s food.

#🚩 anon #younger au #spill your guts #Eden the Lonely #Bailey the Caretaker #others stuff

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solomonish · 4 years ago

Text

Solomon Headcanons

I didn’t like my old headcanons for him and I think I have a slightly better feel for him so I’m posting these bad boys. Maybe at this rate I’ll just post Solomon HCs every month

Also this turned into more of a “I’m going to talk about Solomon in depth and maybe throw in one headcanon about kissing him” and is no longer “lol what kind of dates do you go on? <3″ so uh. do with that what you will. It’s also SUPER LONG (or feels that way) so make sure you have a hot second to read them

you can find my for real headcanons for him here but I don’t necessarily stand by them anymore? They’re just there for fun now lol

Solomon’s Relationship With Relationships

Solomon has been alive for...a long time, and with that naturally comes a lot of experiences, negative and positive. It’s also natural that it would also have him break out of traditional structures regarding...everything, but especially things regarding relationships and specific other people.

(Not to get sociological or philosophical about society or whatever, but the way we view everything is accented heavily by the end. With exceptions, and this certainly varies from culture to culture, but as a general idea, we view things expecting them to take place over the span of 70-100 years. Certain positions in politics or business or something try to look at things generationally, but how capable of that are we and how far ahead can we truly see?)

(What I mean to say is that immortality naturally shifts the entire context in which you would view things that were expected to be “lifelong.” What once existed to enrich a life is now a tether to a system that doesn’t necessarily suit his existence.)

Psychologically, however.....I don’t think Solomon has tried to (or even can) rewire himself entirely to the point where he doesn’t feel love. He’s already got a fondness for Simeon and Luke (always crying about him calling them “dear friends” in the circus event i don’t know if he says anything in the lessons because i’m only on like 21 LOL) so he’s clearly capable of fondness and affection.

Not that those should equate exactly to romantic feelings (because they shouldn’t), but there’s undeniable similarities between platonic and romantic affection and, for the purposes of speculating about an immortal’s capability to still feel both, I think they can be equated in this regard.

There are a lot of assumptions I’m making about him to make this post, namely the following: that there is still reconciling to be done internally between his immortality and humanity, that Solomon’s composed and confident nature is a bit of a front (only a bit - I’ll explain more later), and, related to these two, that he even cares about humanity and that he still wants to preserve his humanity.

While this might be my perspective as a regular human, I really don’t believe that the desire to be human and fully encompass what that means has left. If anything, I think his intrinsic desire for knowledge and power stems from it, and he’s just suppressed the “mushier” emotional parts of that as a sort of....defense mechanism, if you will.

SO the tl;dr of this is that you know how alloromantic people just like feel in love and they get their romantic crushes and it’s natural and they can’t control it? Solomon gets that! He just isn’t the type to swoon over someone or really make it known.

He also as a person is big on being manipulative shady and in control, so if he were to just be super obvious about having a crush on someone and not being able to do anything about it, that would sort of tarnish his whole image.

So yeah, I think Solomon just has his emotions on a tight leash when they probe to be out of control. Clearly, he doesn’t have every part of him under this sort of watchful eye (whether that’s because he still wants to feel genuine happiness or he knows if he came across as emotionless and calculated people would trust him even less, I haven’t decided), but those that cause trouble stay behind locked doors.

Additionally, I don’t think Solomon is opposed to falling in love. I’d bet he’s had lots of different partners over the years and remembers them fondly (you know, assuming they ended well)

I also think his immortal status makes dating different? I feel like doesn’t really date to find a life partner because. well. (gestures).

That’s not to say that he doesn’t date casually sometimes or something. In the terms of a serious romantic partnership, though, it’s rare that it happens because he knows that it’ll die with them (and stay within him for probably forever, even if/when there comes a day he can no longer remember their name or their face).

Another assumption I’m making that I forgot to mention: I think it’s rare that Solomon’s serious, long-term partners know the true extent of the magic he dabbles in. Maybe he lets them know it’s real magic, or he pretends it’s all show magic and parlor tricks. Sometimes he pretends his pact marks are tattoos, sometimes he tells the truth. If ever these confessions are laughed off, he laughs them off too and creates a cover story.

He doesn’t intend to lie, but it’s very difficult to meet someone and explain........all of THAT. On which date to you mention that you can control 72 demons? Do you send a card explaining how you’ve been alive since Biblical times and you’re not even sure if you birthday is your real birthday anymore, let alone how old you are? And should that card be store bought or homemade?

So while it’s rare for Solomon to have a serious romantic partnership, it’s even more rare for him to be entirely understood or accepted for EVERYTHING that he is because he can’t get into it. Arguably, that hasn’t happened since his “death” in his original timeline.

A crush for Solomon isn’t a hopeless affair, either. Should you choose someone else, he’ll allow himself the disappointment and move on.

With Solomon, romantic love sparks naturally, but genuine true love isn’t some all-powerful, unstoppable force. He falls more in line with the people who believe it’s a choice and a decision, somewhere between “it’s purely a biological impulse we just gave a fancy name” and “it’s the magic that makes life more enjoyable”

With MC

In the case of MC, however, I think he might initially see it as bothersome or a hinderance to whatever his plan is with being down there for the exchange program. Maybe he convinces himself he’s just naturally attracted to you because you’re human like him. Once he comes to terms with his feelings and gets to know MC a bit more, he might even see it as a lost cause seeing as you already have several of the brothers vying for your affections.

For Solomon to act on a crush that he’s already decided is hopeless, it’ll be up to the MC to show that THEY are interested in HIM

He finds no particular pleasure in being someone who is chased after or “playing hard to get,” but he already has a complicated relationship with complicated relationships. He’s gonna need a down payment of affection a sign that there’s anything even there to pursue

Traditional flirting, while he’ll have his fun with it (and probably enjoy it at least a little - who doesn’t like feeling desirable?), doesn’t really work for him. Lots of people and creatures have used it to try and charm him, plus he has a pact with Asmo, so at this point he really sees it as more casual fun then an indication of true interest.

Honestly, to get him to realize “oh shit I actually have a chance,” you’re going to have to do two main things: 1) make him feel chosen over the others, and 2) respond to his displays of affection

Making Him Feel Chosen

This isn’t really a competition thing, or some selfish hoarding of your time. The thing is, Solomon knows he isn’t the only one in the running and he knows that anything he has to offer, somebody else could give you a portion of it.

(You won’t get the same experience or combination of traits with somebody else obvi, but with 11 suitors and an added chihuahua, there tends to be a little bit of overlap with everyone)

A crush for Solomon is a romantic interest, but if he intends on pursuing a serious relationship (which, I feel, is what he intends to be the final goal of his crushes as opposed to more casual affairs), he needs to see SOME reciprocation

Being with him is an ordeal, maybe a lifelong one for you, so he needs that assurance that it’ll be worth it and there aren’t better avenues

Basically, this means that ✨ quality time ✨ is of the utmost importance

At first, it doesn’t have to be anything big. Sit with him at lunch when you see him in the cafeteria, meet him in the library while you wait for your demon escort to be finished with their extracurriculars, chat him up in the one class you have together (and then ask him to help you study what you missed in class by talking. it’s a required transfer class but you already know everything about it, right, Solomon? 🥺)

As your relationship progresses, that’s when things start to get harder. Invite him out to things that you think he’ll enjoy, and say yes to as many excursions with him as you can. Bonus points for making it clear that you want to go when you’re unable to attend.

(He finds himself a little embarrassed how happy it makes him when instead of just a “no” or a “sorry, not today” he gets something like “I’m on dinner duty so I have to spend that time preparing :( but we should definitely make a date so you can tell me about it later!” It makes him feel like a priority.)

It isn’t until you find yourself comfortable enough to ask him to accompany you to something you want to do that he starts to realize you’re hanging out with him for him and not because he’s just offering up a bunch of fun new experiences for you to try.

You don’t even have to say “hey, i’m pretty sure you know all about the birds in the Devildom aviary but I haven’t had a chance to go and would really like to spend the day with you. Wanna come with?” If it’s something that he knows you know isn’t in his wheelhouse, he’ll be able to figure out that OH.....you’re inviting him for HIM.....oh

Make him feel like a priority, like he’s the one that you want, even out of all your choices. You can be as enthralled by the birds in that aviary as you want, just as long as you make it clear that your enthusiasm to be with him is on the same level and he’ll finally kick himself into gear.

Responding to His Affections

Now, you don’t have to do anything you don’t like. I hear in his dame card devilgram he’s a consent king, and he stands by that every day of the week

He also isn’t the type to need an exact equal to everything he does. Yes a relationship is a two way street, but this isn’t saying that if he gets you a gift you need to present him something with equal or greater value within the next 24 hours. he’s not mammon haha i’m so FUNNY

Just...let him know that he’s doing things right. His serious relationships are few and far between and people change as often as the times do, so make sure that he knows what he’s doing is landing. He’s not insecure per se, but he would like to know that he isn’t making a fool of himself entirely, you know?

Don’t brush him off in front of the brothers or he’ll think he’s read the situation all wrong and you’re back to square one. If you do it because you don’t like touching and he put an arm around your shoulder or something, that’s fine, but if he thinks you’re uncomfortable being with him in front of the brothers he’ll wonder if you even liked him at all.

To him, a secret relationship isn’t really feasible. First of all, those brothers are ALWAYS in your business so bold of you to think you’ll have ANY secrets by the time the exchange program is done, and secondly, don’t you both have enough on your plate that you shouldn’t make something that makes you happy needlessly complicated?

He is an odd case and knows there’s a lot that comes with him, so if you’re uncomfortable simply showing that you’re in a relationship and reciprocating, he’ll think you aren’t equipped to handle.....All That.

In case you haven’t noticed, he’s weird. He’s a weirdo. He doesn’t fit in. And he doesn’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen him without that stupid cape on? That's weird.

If you respond to his affections in a similar way, such as putting you arm around his waist or a hand on his back when he puts an arm around your shoulder or reaching up to fix his hair when he reaches to mess with yours, it’ll make him happy for sure. He doesn’t have any specific expectations for you but he’ll like to feel like you’re on the same wavelength.

A lot of his affections are morphed into specific and targeted teasing (but not like *gently bullies u* teasing). It’s a lot of inside jokes at your expense (and the more inside jokes he has, the more he probably likes you)

It’s also a lot of messing up your hair, sharp pokes and frustrating games like “guess what?” “i don’t know, what?” “i told you to guess, MC.” “ugh...you won the lottery” “guess better” “please don’t do this to me Solomon”

He probably responds best to Acts of Service and Quality Time (though at any stage in the relationship he’s a flexible man). While he’s trying to woo you to solidify his spot in first place against everyone else, if you continue to make the effort to be around him or like. recognize he’s taking time out of his day to romance you and do something for him in return he’ll cement the fact that oh yeah, this is happening between the two of you

(not to say that romancing you is a chore, because it’s not, but man if it doesn’t make him happy that you’re wanting to make his life easier on him so he can pursue the other things he enjoys, too.)

What a Relationship with Solomon is Like

He isn’t the biggest person on PDA, or at least not on purpose. He won’t see you and immediately be like ‘oh there they are i need to kiss them kiss kiss kiss’ or whatever, but he’s not averse to it?

He doesn’t want physical affection to be a big deal, or at least not in public. unless that’s what you’re into ;) If the two of you are out and about and you kiss his hand, or you’re a generally physically affectionate person he’ll smile and respond and be generally unbothered by it, but don’t expect him to ever really have the desire to like make out in public or something. Really, you probably won’t get much more than a quick kiss because he DOES always have other things on his mind.

You will NOT be able to get out of him messing with you. If you need him to tone it down that’s fine, but the more you let him get away with, the less energy he’ll have to redirect into other troublemaking activities

Has a weird thing with licking too probably? like he’s not gross about it and it’s not like a NSFW fixation but he’ll do that mom thing where he licks his thumb because “you’ve got something on your cheek” and then reveal that he’s a LIAR

or he’ll put his face really close to yours and stick his tongue out when you turn your head so it hits your cheek

it just gets such a DRAMATIC reaction out of you so that’s why he does it? if you ask him genuinely to stop he will but if you comment on it he’ll just give you a small smile and not say anything then continue to do it

when he messes with you, it’s ok if you say he’s doing something weird but don’t make him feel childish. setting boundaries (and making regular observations - he is kinda weird) is more than alright but admonishing him just feels......off and will turn him sour for a bit

VERY appreciative of someone who supports his adventurous side. Also fond of someone who’s happy to tag along but knows that some things he has to do on his own.

Even if you don’t want to go, he’ll appreciate the support or the interest you show in what he does. Ask him where he’s going and what he’s doing there, but ask him because you’re interested and not because you’re overly worried.

Please be there for him when he gets back to talk about it. He really likes feeling important or cool when he tells his tales, even if all he did was go and catch a few magic salamanders or something.

PLEASE be a soundboard for all of his ideas. He knows that sometimes he’ll talk about things that are way over your head that he hasn’t learned yet, but he really does want your undivided attention. It doesn’t matter if you’re encouraging him, debating with him, telling him the idea is stupid (though don’t pull this one too often unless you intend to ask to be let in to the fun) or just watching in confusion. It’s important to him that you value what he has to say, and he hopes one day that he’ll be able to tell you anything and you’ll have a response to it all. (Even if you don’t learn magic to the degree he knows it, he hopes you’ll get to a point where you understand what he wants, even if you don’t know what magical elements he’s talking about or something.)

A relationship with Solomon is one where you’re both independent, but also can’t imagine not going to the other at the end of the day. It’s startling how quickly you become constant in the other’s life despite being in COMPLETELY different stages of magical development and learning about the demon world.

The relationship will be lots of fun, but there will be many serious moments, too.

They’ll happen randomly. Maybe something from a class or a spell reminds him of something from his past, or maybe he’s reminded that he can’t remember so many things that he knows were important to him.

Sometimes, his Tuesday night blues will feel like a life-changing existential crises for you, but please, do what you can to be there for him in these moments. It worries him how much love and happiness he’s lost, especially when he knows he promised to remember it.

Once you get him to think aloud, he’ll say super heavy stuff life “What if I’ve forgotten who I really am and now I’m just something other people and magic have morphed me into?” or “When will the human race evolve or go extinct and leave me behind?” and it fucks you up, really. It fucks him up too

But please be patient with him, because there’s something important he has to get off his chest eventually. He’s worried already that he’ll forget you the way he’s probably forgotten so many others, but he doesn’t want to offend you and know that saying it would come off as uncaring.

You won’t have an answer for these moments, and he knows it. It’ll be best if you just hold him tight, stroke his hair if you’re laying down, and reassure him that you don’t care.

With how long he’s been alive, you’ll have to get past caring if you’re his “one true love” because he doesn’t have that. He gave up the right to having a one true love in exchange for never-ending life. But he still loves and he does love deeply, it just has a lot to cut through to properly be articulated.

So tell him. Tell him you know he’s had other loves, that you know you might not even be the best partner suited to him that he’s had. Tell him that you know when your time has come, he’ll find someone else eventually.

Tell him that what matters to you is that he loves you now, that he’s making things work with you now, and that he isn’t secretly yearning for some lover that’s come to pass or yet to come when he’s with you.

You can’t control what happened in the past or what happens in the future, but right now he’s yours and you’re his and he needs to learn to take things one lifetime at a time. Right now is YOUR Solomon time, and what happens after is just a consequence of time and you’ve already forgiven him for it.

instead of “mom says it’s my turn on the xbox” it’s “god says it’s MY turn on the Solomon”

send that to him for real and he’ll probably never forget you lol

How to Make a Relationship with Solomon Work

With all this in mind, the key to a good relationship with Solomon is keeping his head on his shoulders.

He’s ambitious, powerful, scary smart, and capable of so much more than you can even guess and he knows it. It’ll be good for him to have somebody to keep him on the ground.

Now, don’t be overbearing. If you try to stop him from going places or try to hinder his pursuit of knowledge out of fear for his safety, that’ll cause unbelievable strain on him. You will have to learn to let him work his things out the way he wants to, and it won’t always be the safest or most responsible way either.

He doesn’t mind a gentle scolding if he gets hurt. He won’t say it, but he kinda likes to be reminded how important he is to you.

Also be down to have fun and be a little reckless. Your safety will always be a priority to him, but nobody ever got anywhere without a little struggle, right? Sometimes adventuring with him and following him into the darkest magical corners of the world will require multiple (sometime literal) leaps of faith, but he’ll always be there to catch you.

Let Solomon work for you and the relationship, and you work to keep him sane and remind him that he can belong somewhere, even when he’s been himself for who knows how long and nowhere ever really stays the same.

You’ll always have to remind Solomon that not everything revolves around magic and power. He’s not been mortal for some time, so he gets caught up in the heady and lofty topics and ideas.

Remind him about the simple joys of just having fun and goofing off, that not every moment not spent on homework has to be spent on potions. Remind him (in the human world) how cool a sunset is, or convince him to go through a museum and pretend he’s seeing everything for the first time.

As much as he lives for understanding the grand topics most people can only dream of beginning to grasp, remind him of the little things. Remind him of human indulgences that he’s abandoned. Get him back in touch with that part of himself.

Solomon as a character feels like he’d be really aloof, but he’s honestly extremely devoted to what he invests his time in. He shows this devotion in small ways that feel more like riddles sometimes, in the way he always comes back after a rather dangerous magical excursion, in the way he shortens his time away so he can get back to you, in the way he learns to quiet his mind so he can properly take care of you and what you need and strengthen your relationship.

One thing that I think is a hallmark of a relationship with him is that Solomon loves things that can teach him more about what he doesn’t know. You don’t need to be the smartest person on the planet, or have a specialized and thorough education in some bizarre topic, or come from somewhere entirely different than what he knows to keep his interest.

You are uniquely human, and you help teach him about himself, the one thing that he can never seem to properly grasp and understand the way he wants to.

More importantly, you are you, the one who made pacts with all seven demon lords, the one captured his heart and promised to take care of it when you could throw it away for anybody else.

And you are the only one who could say those words that he believes. Hopefully, you’ll believe him when he says them, too.

#i feel like i was toeing a line that might have like. disrespected aromanticism and if i did i am so sorry #i just think that like. personally as someone who is alloromantic but not necessarily super OBVIOUS about feeling romantic attraction #there is a line between just being casually romantic or something and aromantic like #yeah i wanna marry my best friend but i still wanna MARRY them you know #marriage being taken here in a romantic context and not just a social institution #i don't know. maybe i just want him to be romantic so i can be romantically involved with him and i'm digging too deep with it #tldr aromantic rights!!!#obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me swd #solomon #obey me solomon #solomon hcs #mine #solomon fluff #?#long post

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

“If you want me to, I will.” [Hotch x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Reader has worked for Aaron Hotchner for the past 6 months as the babysitter to his son, Jack.

Pairing: Hotch x (Female) Reader

Word Count: 7.4k – she thicc

Category: Smut/Fluff…and some angst because of who I am as a person.

Content Warning:

A/n: We all know that Hotch’s favorite album is the Beatles "White Album." And I have odd choices for songs that I use as lullabies. This idea came into my head and never left. This video of Billie Eillish singing part of the song is the closest to the structure of how I imagined it. Okay, okay, look, I know Roy wasn’t diagnosed until season 10. But I am taking creative liberties because I needed Jack to be younger.

Meaning this would be set around season 7. Hotch would be about 41, Jack is around 7; so, I made Reader around 26, giving them a 15-year age gap. Please don’t check my math. 😌

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- If you want me to, I will. --

I was disoriented when I woke up. This isn’t my bed, I thought groggily. Wait…this isn’t even my house.

“Y/n,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.

I jackknifed up into a sitting position, eyes wide and my face flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Hotchner!” I quickly brought my hand up to my cheek to make sure I hadn’t drooled in my sleep. Because that would really be the cherry on top of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This is so embarrassing.”

Mr. Hotchner had been crouched down, putting himself level with his living room couch; the same couch he came home and found me sleeping on. In all the months I’d worked for the Hotchner/Brooks family, I’d never seen Mr. Hotchner smile anytime he wasn’t talking to his son, Jack. He always looked incredibly serious and sometimes incredibly sad; but the normal scowl was missing from his face as he looked at me, I noticed, watching him rise to a standing position.

“It’s fine, y/n. It’s after 1 o’clock in the morning.” He shifted, turning to go open the gun safe he kept in the part of the living room where his desk sat. Mr. Hotchner, or Hotch, as he kept telling me to call him, was the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. Which was just a very fancy way of saying he was a profiler that was in charge of all the other profilers. Some people just look like the jobs they have; Mr. Hotchner was one of those people. “Thank you for staying late, I didn’t think things were going to run this long. I didn’t even know you were here until I called Jessica a few hours ago.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled as I began to gather my things from the coffee table and put them into my bag. “She called me a little after 4; something happened with her dad, I think.” I zipped my bag shut, standing up quickly. “I didn’t mind helping out, Mr. Hotchner.”

He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Hotchner, y/n. I know I’m a lot older than you, but that makes me feel ancient.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” I protested.

He looked incredulous. “Y/n, you’re still in college.”

Well, that stings a bit. “I’m in graduate school,” I said, my voice dampening a little bit. “I’m almost 27.”

Mr. Hotchner blinked at me. “Really? I thought you were younger than that…”

“My age didn’t come up in the numerous background checks you did on me?” I scoffed, immediately wincing as the words flew out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I just keep making this worse.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. For falling asleep on your couch…and for every moment after that. I’ll just go now.”

"Y/n," he called. "hang on, it's really late, and…I still need to pay you."

Jesus. “It is late, Mr. Hotchner, that’s why I need to head home.” I forced an awkward laugh. “I have class at 9 am.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, regarding me in a way that made me squirm. I wasn’t used to a person paying attention to me the way Mr. Hotchner did. It didn’t make me uneasy; I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything from him…which made me uneasy. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

I don’t know why it stung so much that he knew virtually nothing about me. I’d worked for him for 6 months; he wasn’t obligated to know anything about me other than how I took care of his son. “I’m actually done with my course work this semester,” I mumbled. “I’m a TA…in a class that starts at 9 am.” It doesn’t matter, you’re just tired. “You-you can just pay me for tonight the next time I’m over. It’s not like you’re gonna stiff me.” I walked over to the door and threw a very quick “goodnight, Mr. Hotchner” over my shoulder before I scurried out.

I missed the quiet “Aaron. You can call me Aaron.”

The entire drive home, my thoughts were on Aaron Hotchner. None of this was what I expected when I took this job. I had been in graduate school for 2 years now. I had already gotten my master’s degree and had been accepted into the Ph.D. program. There are many branches of psychology, but I had always been fascinated with cognitive psychology; it seemed only natural that that is what I would pursue in graduate school. Once it became time to focus my interest in preparation for my dissertation, I decided to study the cognitive decay in Alzheimer's patients. We knew that they lost memories, but I wanted to explore how their basic cognitive functions were affected in certain settings.

As part of my program, I was a TA in an intro psych class, and I conducted my research at the hospital connected to the university. That’s where I first met Jessica Brooks. Despite getting a stipend for my teaching assistant work, I had been taking odd jobs to help make ends meet; D.C. wasn't cheap. When I mentioned that I had experience with kids, Jessica had immediately told me that she was needing help caring for her nephew in the wake of her father, Roy's diagnosis. She wanted to keep him at home, which was both admirable and time-consuming.

I wasn’t prepared for the gigantic background check that I was subjected to. I very quickly learned that my potential employer had some power at the FBI. Jessica had raved to him about me, so he agreed to meet with me. When Jessica told me he worked for the FBI, I was expecting a bureaucrat, kind of short, receding hairline, soft from sitting behind a desk all day.

Aaron Hotchner was none of those things. He was a total cliché; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black, his hair was black, and he towered over me. His hand was firm when he shook mine. I initially thought he didn’t like me because of the scowl he wore on his face; now I knew that was just his default expression. I’m pretty sure he invented Resting Bitch Face. I think it was my meeting with Jack that sealed the deal. We had clicked right away. The 7-year-old was impressed by my knowledge of both DC and Marvel comics. I could still remember our first meeting so clearly; when in a move that I now know is so much like his father, he had asked me an interview question of his own.

“What is Spiderman’s middle name?” the boy had asked with a suspicious squint of his eyes.

This kid is poser checking me, I had thought with amusement. “That would depend on which Spiderman you’re referring to. Assuming it’s Peter Parker, his middle name is Benjamin.”

We were best friends after that.

I loved Jack; I really did. And I was paid well enough that he was the only child I babysat for, the rest of my time spent working on my research and plotting my dissertation. It was clear that Aaron Hotchner loved his son, and he felt guilty for not being around more. He was fierce and intimidating any other time, but once he was with his son, his entire face would transform. His smiles came easier, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.

None of that is why he made me nervous, though. What made me so nervous is the fear that one day I was going to spend enough time with him for him to see the feelings I had so stupidly developed for him.

The very next night, I was hiding in the kitchen floor in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment.

“Ready or not, here I come!” the little voice called out before his feet started stomping loudly across the floor.

From my position behind the kitchen counter, I tried very hard to remain silent, despite my amusement. Jack Hotchner was many wonderful, wonderful things. Sneaky was not one of them. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when I heard his little feet hurry towards me, and I didn’t lose my balance when he turned the corner and launched himself at me. “Oomph!” was the only reasonable sound to make when a tiny human slammed into you.

Jack was delighted. “I FOUND YOU!”

My response was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jack was off me in a flash, barreling towards the living room. “Daddy!”

Mr. Hotchner made a similar “oomph” noise when Jack jumped on him, confirming my theory. I rose to my feet quickly, smoothing down my clothes.

“We were playing hide and seek, Daddy!” Jack informed his father. “I found y/n every time! She never found me once!” His chest puffed out with pride, making my face break into a smile.

“You’re just an excellent hider, Jack-attack.”

Mr. Hotchner’s eyes settled on my face then, for just a moment I saw something so sad in those eyes that the breath seized in my lungs.

He cleared his throat, seeming to shake off whatever he was thinking before smiling at his son. “I’m glad you had a good time with, y/n, buddy.”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I helped make dinner!”

“You did?” He questioned in fake astonishment. “When did you make dinner?”

“Tonight!”

Mr. Hotchner looked at me quizzically. “Oh, um, I wasn’t actually supposed to watch Jack tonight…but Jessica called and asked if I could. It was really last minute, and she’d already bought some stuff to make dinner…” I trailed off. “I hope that’s okay. Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re a 26-year-old woman, get it together.

His attention moved from me to his son. "Jack, go get changed into your pj's. It's almost bedtime." When Jack's mouth opened to protest this great injustice, his father went on. "You can tell y/n bye when you're done."

So much for a speedy escape, I thought. Instead, I just smiled at him. "Yep, I'll be right here, little man." Satisfied with this, Jack jumped out of his father's arms and ran towards his room.

“Why did Jessica need you to come over? Did something happen with Roy?” He looked genuinely worried, walking into the kitchen to stand near me.

I reached out and put a hand on his arm without thinking. "Oh, oh god no, nothing like that." Realizing I was touching him, I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me. "Sorry. She…she-um had a date."

His eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “A date?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words.

I chuckled. “That’s what she told me.”

He walked back into the living room then, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he focused his dark gaze on me. “What about you?”

“…What about me what?”

“Does Jessica ever have to cover for you when you have dates?”

If Aaron Hotchner hadn’t made me so nervous, I might have picked up on how he phrased that question. As it happens, all I could do was fidget under his gaze. “Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “Ah, no. She doesn’t have to do that. I don’t really date.”

That had one of his eyebrows rising, his arms crossing across his chest. "Why?"

Because I want you to crack my back like a glowstick. “Um…you know, it’s hard to find the time.”

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to come barreling out of his room, charging full force at me. “You’re still here!” he exclaimed.

I smiled down at him when his arms wrapped around my hips. I put one hand on the back of his head, the other on his back, giving him a squeeze. “Of course I am! I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he mumbled.

My throat worked as a sudden wave of emotion hit me. "Oh, Jack," my voice was thicker than usual when I spoke. "I don't like leaving you either, but you'll see me before you know it. I promise."

Once we had finally pried Jack off me, Mr. Hotchner went to take him to bed. He turned to me when he scooped Jack up in his arms. “Thank you for today.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Hotchner.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Most people call me Hotch. Or you could call me Aaron.”

I didn't know what to say to that; all I could do was give him an awkward smile. I was gone before he came back into the living room. I didn't want to leave, I never did, but I couldn't risk being alone with…Aaron.

The following Thursday night, my phone started ringing just after 11:30. Glancing at it, I saw it was Jessica. “Hey,” I said in greeting.

“Hey, y/n,” she said, sounding frazzled. “I have a huge favor to ask. Dad’s home health nurse had to leave early tonight.” “Is something wrong with Melinda?” I hope not. She’s the sweetest.

“No, I don’t think so. But she needs to go home and there’s no one to sit with Jack. But Aaron isn’t home yet…”

“I’ll be there in 20.”

Which is why I was now in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment after midnight in a pair of shorts that were so short I only ever wore them at home and a t-shirt that I had had for forever. Jessica had sounded so upset when she called, I hadn't even thought to change. She had promised to be back as quick as she could; she said that Mr. Hotchner was flying back from a case, and she didn’t expect him until 5 a.m. at the earliest.

When I first arrived, I had tried to watch TV, my mind too wired to sleep, even though I had class at 9 am in the morning. Sighing, I glanced over at the clock to see it was just after 1:45 in the morning.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I whined out loud. I have to go to sleep; even if it’s just a little nap. I remembered Jessica had left some chamomile tea here for the nights she stayed over to watch Jack. Finding the kettle and the tea itself was no problem; the problem presented itself when I had to get a mug to put the tea in.

I had never considered myself a particularly short person; sure, I had to stretch to get things from time to time, but everybody did that. Looking up into the upper cabinets in the Hotchner house had me reconsidering that. The mugs were on the very top shelf and try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to reach them; my fingers kept grazing over the ceramic.

“Goddamnit,” I mumbled in a huff. What is the point to put mugs way the fuck up there? Some of us are a perfectly normal height…but noooo I have to work for giants. I braced my hands on the countertop as I heaved myself up on to said countertop. Once my knees were in place, I got the offending cup without further problems.

I blame how focused I was on my task for my not hearing the front door open, or the footsteps that followed. Which is why I had a mild heart attack when I heard a voice that sounded highly amused say from behind me, “What are you doing?”

Several things happened all at once, and very quickly. I let out the most embarrassing squeak in all of history, I lost my balance on the counter and the cup fell from my hand. The cup crashed to the floor and shattered. My fate might have been the same but two large hands caught me, gripping my hips from behind. I looked down to see his long fingers wrapping around my waist, gripping me tightly; my difficulty breathing then had nothing to do with how scared I was.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said softly, still not releasing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I get it,” I said lightly, attempting to act like I wasn’t going into cardiac arrest because he was touching me. “You’re a very stealthy FBI agent. It was bound to happen.”

He chuckled before his hands pushed my hips so I was twisting around, my legs shifting until I was sitting on the countertop, staring into the same dark eyes I thought about far too often. They weren’t as harsh as they usually were; tonight, they were soft and warm, and they made my pulse race a bit faster.

I moved to get off the counter when the hands that were still on my hips stopped me. “Hang on, let me clean this up first. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Fantastic, I thought, hiding my face in my hands. It seems I was incapable of not making a fool out of myself in front of this man.

He worked quickly while I debated changing my name and fleeing the country; in the next moment, he was standing in front of me again. "What's wrong?"

“Oh, nothing,” I said, not moving my hands. “Just dying of embarrassment.”

Aaron actually laughed at that, moving closer to stand between my thighs, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of my hips. “Why are you embarrassed?”

I dropped my hands then. “Because this is becoming a pattern! First, I fell asleep on your couch, then I almost fell off your counter and cracked my head like an egg.” I bit my lip, shifting under his gaze. “I’m sorry and thank you for catching me.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said softly.

He still had that soft look on his face, but he was smiling too like he was enjoying my embarrassment. He probably is. I had never been this close to him before. I didn’t know his eyes weren’t just one flat color of brown, but that lighter shades of brown whirled throughout. I had never felt the heat of his body before, but now I was so close I could smell him. Why does he have to smell good? I whined internally. If he just stunk, I could get over this.

This was exactly why I tried very hard to stay as far away from him as possible because I lost the ability to think clearly whenever I was with him. I couldn't stop my eyes from moving down to his lips. I was eye level with him from my position on the counter; all I had to do to brush my lips across his was lean forward, so that’s exactly what I did. His body stiffened slightly at the first touch of my lips to his. I pulled back, ready to apologize when his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me back to him. There was nothing soft about this kiss. His free hand gripped my thigh, my hands held on to his shirt, trying to pull him closer. My tongue brushed against his mouth before he sucked on the tip of it, causing me to shudder. He took a step forward as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel him when he settled against me; he was hard, and I found myself shifting my hips to rub against him.

The shrill ringing of his phone broke us apart suddenly. He was panting, his cheeks were slightly flushed. I thought I heard him let out a “fuck” under his breath as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.

“Hey Jessica,” he answered.

Now that our moment was broken, I felt very self-conscious. What the fuck did I just do?! He is my boss. He is Jack’s dad. Aaron took a step back and I slid off the counter. This turned out to be a very bad idea on my part; my body brushed down the front of his, causing me to bite my lip to silence the moan that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, I landed a little while ago,” he said as I left the kitchen.

WhatthefuckWhatthefuck. I heard him end the call with Jessica before he quickly walked into the living room. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw me. “I thought you’d try to slip away.”

“I thought about it,” I told him honestly.

“Listen, y/n, about that in the kitchen,” he began.

I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner. I don’t know why I did that; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was giving him an out because I couldn’t handle hearing the rejection I knew was coming. “I just…I guess we got caught up in the moment? And you’re really tired, I’m sure. I’m so sorry.” I was rambling now. “If you don’t want me to watch Jack anymore-“

“Y/n, no,” he interrupted. “No, this…you’re right, it was just a heat of the moment thing. It happens. I’m sorry I lost myself for a moment.” He cleared his throat, his face still set in softness. “Jack loves you. He doesn’t need to suffer for any more of my mistakes.”

Mistakes. The word hollowed me out and left me cold. I just nodded. “Right,” I said in what I hoped was an even tone. “Just a mistake. I should get going. It’s really late.”

Which is how I found myself driving home at almost 3 in the morning with tears running down my cheeks. A mistake.

Things went back to normal after that night. I continued to avoid Aaron Hotchner at all costs and he…did whatever he did. I tried to hide the hurt whenever I did happen to see him, but it was so hard when I could still feel the tingle from his lips on mine.

A few days after the “mistake,” I was babysitting Jack again. He’d went to bed at his normal 8:30 and all was quiet. I decided to do some TA work while I waited for Mr. Hotchner to come home. I was halfway through grading an essay when I heard the first noise come from Jack’s room. Lifting my fingers from the keys of my computer, I waited to see if I heard another sound. I didn’t have to wait long; not even a minute passed before I heard a strained cry. Jumping up, I hurried down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

Cracking the door open I called, “Jack-attack? Are you okay, little man?” I didn’t see him right away; he had hidden under his covers and curled up into a little ball. “Hey, Jack. It’s just y/n.” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I saw the lump under the blankets start to move hesitantly before I saw his brown hair peak out of the blanket near his pillow. His eyes were wide and with the light shining in from the hall, I could see tears gleam in them. “Oh, buddy,” I cooed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah…there was a bad man…and my daddy didn’t come save me.”

I felt my breath seize in my chest. Jessica had told me a brief version of what happened to Jack's mother a few years ago. "Jack, you know your dad would always do whatever he had to do to come to save you." I shifted my position on the bed until I was sitting beside him. "He'd never let anything bad happen to you." Jack started inching closer to me. I held out my arms and smiled when he lunged for me; I wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back.

“My dad just isn’t home a lot anymore. He has a lot of work to do,” he mumbled into my shirt.

“Your dad would be home if he could, Jack.” I couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of my voice. It wasn’t fair to either Jack or his dad that he had to be away so much.

“I know,” the little boy whispered. “I just miss him sometimes.”

“Do you want to call him?” I offered. “I don’t think he’d mind.”

Jack just shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He turned his face up to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”

I moved so he lay beside me with my left arm still squeezed around him. “Of course, bud.” I scooted down the bed so I was reclining instead of sitting straight up, pulling the cover-up over him again. "Do you want me to read you another story?"

He just shuffled under his covers, looking at me with the bashful innocence of childhood. “Can you sing to me until I fall asleep?”

I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing in front of people, but how could I turn this little face down? I just nodded. “Do you have any requests?”

“Nope,” he answered with a little grin on his face.

Unfortunately, at that moment every single lullaby I had ever know left my head. I couldn’t think of a single traditional lullaby. So, I decided to improvise. I started singing slower songs I knew, some of them might not have been appropriate for a 7-year-old’s lullaby, but I don’t think Jack cared that much.

He was almost out, drifting on the edge between deep sleep and awake. My arm was still around his shoulder, he was still snuggled to my side. I decided one more song would be enough, which meant I pulled out my second Beatles song of the night.

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?

You know I love you still.

Will I wait a lonely lifetime?

If you want me to, I will.

For if I ever saw-“

I glanced up, immediately sensing there was someone else in the room. To my horror, Jack’s father was standing in the doorway, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed nervously, then I turned to press a kiss against Jack’s soft forehead before I gently detangled myself from him. I straightened my clothes that to my further embarrassment had shifted around because I was laying with a wiggly child, then, attempting to keep my face impassive, I walked to the door, moving around his father as I exited.

Mr. Hotchner walked into the room and checked on his son, while I moved into the living room to gather my things. I wonder if he just left the money by the door, I mused. If he did, I could just make a dash for the door. I mean, if he didn’t, he could always just pay me next time. Sadly, my plans were escape were foiled yet again by the man in question entering the room.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I know he was up past his bedtime. I put him down at 8, but he had a nightmare." I was babbling, not meeting his eyes, my gaze very intently focused on my bag. "He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep…" I finally looked up, shrugged, and said, "He's very hard to say no to."

“You don’t have to apologize for being nice to my son, y/n,” he said softly. “That’s one of my favorite songs on the White Album, you know.”

I hadn’t known that. “Mr. Hotch-“

He took a step towards me before I finished speaking. “Y/n, please, I can barely handle this as it is. Please call me Aaron.”

I just blinked up at him. “So, ‘Hotch’ is off the table now?”

That had a soft smile curving his lips upward. "That was a limited-time deal. You should have been quicker." I saw his hand rise up slowly, so slowly that I would have had time to move away…but I just couldn’t. He brushed my hair back from my face, his eyes were two pools of black in the dim light, they were swirling with something that made my stomach flutter.

“Aaron,” I breathed, having no idea what I was going to say.

He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes upwards. When he brought them back down to mine, his hand slid from its place near my ear to cradle the back of my head. His eyes searched mine for a moment before his shoulders dropped slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered before he leaned down and sealed his lips over mine.

I might have thought this kiss would be questioning or unsure, but there was nothing unsure about it. Aaron kissed me like he was starving for me. His teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged as he pulled away. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he breathed before bringing his lips more firmly against mine.

My hands began to move over his body; one of my hands grabbed his tie and used it to pull him closer to me, the other reached up to brush against the short, soft hair on the back of his neck. “It wasn’t?” I questioned when we broke away for air.

Aaron’s lips moved across my cheek, leaving soft kisses until he reached my ear. “No, sweet girl, it wasn’t.” His mouth moved down to my neck; his kisses turning into bites that were sure to become brushes. I didn’t care, I needed him. My hands moved to his shirt, quickly trying to undo all the buttons.

His hands moved down to the waist of my jeans, deftly flicking the button open before sliding the zipper down. “Is this what you want?” he asked as his hand touched my lower stomach, his fingers brushing over the elastic band of my panties.

“Yes,” I said, still working to free him from his shirt. “I want this so much.”

The fingers of his free hand rose up to tap my chin, forcing my eyes up until I met his gaze. "I want to hear you say my name again." His other hand lifted from my stomach to slide over the flair of my hip until he was gripping my ass. "Whenever I laid in bed that night after I had you pressed against me in my kitchen when I stroked my cock, I thought about you moaning my name.” The hand that was on my chin pulled away, skimming down my body until he was grabbing the other side of my ass. “So, say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Aaron.” So, so much.

His hands moved to the backs of my thighs, then he lifted me up his body, startling me. Jesus Christ, how strong is this guy? I threw my arms around his neck as he started walking us down towards his bedroom. A giggle escaped my lips. “I could have walked, you know.”

We had already entered his room; he tossed me gently on the bed before he turned to close and lock the door. He walked to stand at the side of his bed, his eyes devouring me. “I couldn’t give you a chance to sneak away again, sweet girl.” Aaron pulled off his tie before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s hot. I pulled my own shirt over my head, and his body was on top of me before it even left my hands. Aaron's mouth moved down to my collarbones, his hand slipped behind my back to unhook my bra. Once the straps were down my arms, Aaron lifted himself up on his arms to toss it away, his eyes running over my body. "You're so beautiful," he said softly like it wasn't the sweetest compliment I'd ever been paid. He leaned over again, his lips skimming down to my chest before he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.

“Fuck, Aaron,” I moaned.

He gave my nipple a flick with his tongue before he lifted his head. “Ssh, sweet girl. You have to be quiet. Can you do that?” He kissed his way over to my other breast. “I can’t do this if you won’t be quiet.”

“I can be quiet,” I whispered right before I bit my lip to smother my moan at the feeling of his mouth on me. “Maybe.”

His breath puffed against my skin when he laughed at me. My hands threaded through his hair when he brought his face back up to mine. My mouth opened eagerly for him, my tongue slicking over his while I tried to grind my body against him. Aaron was smiling when he broke the kiss, shifting up onto his knees. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be quiet at any rate,” he teased.

My response died in my throat when his fingers yanked my jeans off my legs, bringing my panties with them. I was totally bare in front of him. His eyes raked down my body in a way that would make me self-conscious with anyone else. How could I ever be self-conscious with a man who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world?

But when he started to kiss further down my body, I grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back up to kiss me. “Aaron,” I whispered.

He pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You don’t…you don’t have to do…that,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up.

Aaron braced himself on his arms and stared down at me. Enlightenment dawned on his face a second later. He leaned down to kiss me softly. “Do you not want me to?”

I bit my lip, feeling more flustered. “It’s just…I’ve never…and I know that guys don’t really like-.“ My words were cut off when he placed another kiss to my lips, still incredibly soft, but with more force than before.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't," he said quietly. "But I can assure you, I can't think of anything more I'd rather do than lick your pussy until you cum all over my face." He skimmed his lips over my cheek to my ear. "And once you've come down, I want to slide my cock inside you and feel how soft and wet you are." His kisses moved down to my neck, his mouth sucking on my pulse point. "Then I want to fuck you until you're whimpering against my lips to make you cum again.”

I felt my core throb at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. He lifted his gaze when he got back to my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. “Is that what you want too, sweet girl?”

I have never wanted anything more, I thought; but I was so far gone that all I could do was nod.

He gave me a soft smile, moving down the bed further to settle between my thighs, pulling them further apart. I felt a kiss pressed to one thigh, then the other. His hot breath washed over the part of me that was already so wet for him. “You’re beautiful here too,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my clit. I lifted my hips at the sensation, causing him to chuckle and move his hands to wrap around my thighs, his arms anchoring me in place. A second later I understood why he braced my hips. The second he flattened his tongue and licked the length of my pussy, my hips started moving involuntarily and my fingers tangled in his hair.

I felt a puff of air against me when he laughed again, and it made me smile. I didn’t expect Aaron Hotchner to be fun…or dirty in bed. All thought immediately left my head when he parted me with his tongue, dipping into my entrance before spearing his tongue into me. I felt the vibration when he moaned against me. "You taste so fucking good, y/n," he said, his voice still hushed. Giving my entrance one last lick, he moved up to my clit.

He spent time moving his tongue around me, learning what made me squirm. When he started fluttering his tongue quickly over my clit my hands started tugging on his hair and my thighs tried to snap together.

“Aaron,” I whined, attempting to rock my hips against his mouth.

I think he understood what I needed better than I did. His left hand released my thigh and moved down to my heat, just below his mouth. I felt his fingers brush over me before he pushed on inside me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “Aaron, Aaron, fuck.” He added a second finger, pumping them in a rhythm that complimented the movements of his mouth.

I wasn't prepared for when his lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, while his fingers started to curl inside of me. “Oh my God," I moaned out, louder than I should have. "Aaron, I'm going to cum." I started pulling on his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he just moaned against me, never slowing his pace. "Aaron, fuck, please. I think…I-I-“

My words broke off as the band inside of me snapped, my pussy clamping down on his fingers and my back arching off of the bed, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Aaron slowed his motions, slowly bringing me through the orgasm and back down to Earth. With one final kiss to my thigh, he rose and moved up my body until his face was hovering over mine. His lips were shiny with my arousal, they also looked a little swollen, but more importantly, they were smirking at me.

I’ll give him that one. Reaching up I cradled his jaw in my hands, bringing his mouth down to mine. I tasted myself on his lips and tongue when he licked into my mouth. Despite the powerful orgasm he had just given me, I was still desperate for him. I broke away from his mouth. “Aaron, I need you.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips before he lifted up and stood at the side of the bed, undoing the buckle of his belt. My eyes were fixed on his movements, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and slid them down his legs. His cock was a thick pipe outlined in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband before he spoke again. "I'll give you everything you need, greedy girl." Aaron pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free before he climbed back on the bed.

He was so much thicker than I expected he would be. I moved my hand down to wrap my fingers around him, pumping his length. He let out a groan and lowered his forehead to mine. “Baby,” he muttered. “I…fuck. I have to get a condom.”

“Aaron,” I whined. “I want to feel you inside me. I’m on birth control. Please?” The thought of anything separating me from this man was abhorrent to me in that moment.

I saw his willpower crumble. “Are you sure?”

So sure. “Please,” I begged lifting my head to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a groan that I will remember for the rest of my life, he shifted his hips forwarded, allowing my hands to guide him to my entrance. Aaron kissed me then, slowly and deeply has he started to push inside me. My hand flew away from his cock, both my arms wrapping around his body to pull him closer to me. I felt my nails digging into his back.

Aaron broke our kiss with another soft moan that sounded like my name. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he whispered, pressing deeper inside me. “I knew your pussy would be this fucking tight, this fucking hot, and so fucking soft." He started moving in and out of my pussy, going in a little further each time. “You still have to be quiet, sweet girl.”

“I’m trying,” I moaned, my pussy already starting to flutter around him when he finally pushed all the way inside of me. “Aaron, fucking Christ.” I felt him everywhere, and I somehow still craved more.

He grabbed my thigh, pulling if further up his side, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of me. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” He started a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming back inside me.

My head was thrashing against the pillows, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Aaron, I need you to fuck me harder. Please.”

He groaned at my words, placing a sloppy kiss to my mouth before pulling back. He pulled one of my legs up until it was over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist, and then he started to move faster inside of me.

I braced one hand against the headboard as he pounded into me. “Oh my god, Aaron,” my voice was a low whimper as I looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of me. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, I want you to reach down and rub your clit for me while I fuck your tight little pussy.” His pace started to speed up as he spoke. “Can you do that for me?” He groaned when I complied, the stimulation to my clit causing my pussy to flutter around him. “Good girl.”

My fingers began to work frantically. “Don’t stop, Aaron. Don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweet girl, I can feel you. Your pussy feels so good squeezing around my cock. You’re going to make me cum.” His thrusts were starting to get choppier, one of his hands braced on the top of the headboard while the other held my leg on his shoulder. “Do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, sweet girl?” He groaned loudly when my walls clenched around him. “It feels like you like the idea of that, don’t you baby?”

My fingers continued their pace, my head thrashing, my body trembling. “Yes. Fuck, Aaron. Please cum inside of me. Please.”

Aaron felt it first and acted quickly; his hand moved from my leg to cover my mouth. “That’s it, cum for me, baby.”

I thought my orgasm earlier tonight was powerful. It was nothing compared to how I felt when I came around his cock, only to feel him find his own release a moment after.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n,” he breathed, giving a last few jerks inside of my body, pushing against the fluttering aftershocks of my orgasm. He rolled off me, careful not to drop all of his weight on top of me. To my relief, he quickly gathered me in his arm, pulling me against his body, pressing a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead.

My ear was pressed against his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat slowdown from its frantic pace and his breathing even out. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his chest while his hand continued to stroke my back.

“That…that was amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “If I knew you had that in you, I wouldn’t have run out of the room every time I was alone with you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, at least you’ll know for next time.”

My thoughts sobered at his words. Next time

“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping the side of my face. “No, don’t go away. I just got you.” He kissed my forehead again, then the tip of my nose, then both of my eyelids, before he tilted my face up further so he could press a kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure this out. We have to. I care too much about you to let you go.”

“I care about you too,” I replied, snuggling against his chest, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

I was almost asleep when I heard his voice rumble again. “Will you sing Beatles songs to me when I can’t sleep too?” His voice was sleepy and teasing.

I smiled into the darkness, not bothering to open my eyes. “If you want me to, I will.”

Permanent Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool

#Aaron Hotchner #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner imagine #Aaron Hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner x y/n #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Aaron Hotchner smut #SSA Aaron Hotchner

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hopeamarsu · 3 years ago

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Of potions and myths - Chapter 4

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,6k

Warnings: Some insecurities, some angst, a lot of talking

A/N: We finally meet the elders and start to get into the bottom of what is happening. Basically a lot of talking happens.

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Six new people step inside Pope’s living room, making it feel very crowded. You watch them silently as they approach you, the hand on your hip tightening as the room settles. The connection feels frantic now, bouncing between your bodies as it tries to make sense of your emotions. He’s nervous, just like you are, you realize as you catalogue them. It feels daunting to come to this conclusion about the man who has kept a level head so far and has been a rock of calmness for you.

“Hmm… I sense a power in this room.” One of the elders speaks in a low tone. He steps closer to you, cocking his head to the side as his honey-brown eyes search for your soul inside. You refuse to back down, no matter how scared you are, and face him.

Will grips you tighter, his own eyes flashing to red quickly as the man comes closer and closer, until you are practically nose to nose. A warning growl rumbles out of his chest, but the elder only chuckles in response. He raises a hand to place it on Will’s shoulder and it looks like the Captain barely keeps himself in check and doesn’t bite the offending weight off.

“Calm down, William. I mean your mate no harm.”

Mate? What mate?

“What do you mean, mate?” Will asks, echoing your thoughts. The elder chuckles again before stepping back a little, releasing his hand on Will’s shoulder, and you can see the tension in his back muscles ease minutely. It’s still there, brimming under the surface, but now that the man has backed up, it’s easier to breathe.

From the corner of your eye, you see Pope, Frankie and Benny move closer to you, flanking your sides in support. This time Will doesn’t growl when Benny brushes your shoulder quickly with his own and you file the information for later investigation.

“I can feel the mating bond between you two. It’s very unusual that it’s even here, the bond hasn’t been recorded in centuries.” He muses and the others murmur something amongst themselves. They seem to converse in broken words and sentences, leaving you and Will and his brothers out of it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” You finally pipe up, growing more confused by the minute. Another elder steps forward and gestures for all to sit. “My apologies, my child. You are not one of us and this is something many of us have forgotten also since it’s been buried for so long.” She has a sweet voice, soft and calming. You feel somewhat better as she takes the lead.

“Please sit down. I will answer any questions you have, if you answer ours in return.”

You follow her words, pulling Will with you to the loveseat. Benny takes the armrest closest to you and Frankie the other, Pope choosing to remain standing behind you. Despite any worries or hesitations they might have of you, they will stand by their brother it seems and it warms you from inside out.

“Many centuries ago, the bond was a way of finding out the most compatible companion. A mate.” She begins.

”An unmated wolf would feel a pull, a connection, with the one best suited for them. The connection would grow over time, sometimes manifesting in the physical appearance of colored tendrils until a bond was fully formed. Mated couples often reported being able to feel extreme emotions from one another and if and when the other half of a mated pair died, the other never took another.”

So far you can tick off every box from the list. You chance a look at Will, but he’s looking intently at the elder speaking. As the crowd remains silent, she continues.

“But as the bond was so rare in the first place, it slowly became rarer and rarer as time went on and wolves stopped looking for the clues, finding alternative means of securing a partner. I think the last recorded bond between two people is over 300 years old. And it’s never been recorded between creatures either.”

She glances in your direction, her eyes knowing something that you don’t. You cock an eyebrow at her choice of words, but choose not to comment. Will also remains silent, not divulging your status which you are grateful of as the elder continues.

“The only thing that remains is that once a wolf has a partner, a mate, it is for life. Santiago, you are familiar with the wows of our clan when someone chooses a partner. Tenebo te in corde meo usque in sempiternum. Tu solus. The bond is where they originate from.” (I will hold you forever in my heart. Only you.)

You recognize the words to be Latin, though some of the meaning is lost on you. Judging by the sharp intakes of breaths from all the men around you, they are valued highly.

The elder isn’t finished yet though. Her eyes slowly turn yellow as she regards you. “How did this originate? How long have you felt this between you?” She asks gently.

“We met last night,” You tell her and witness several raised eyebrows as the timeframe registers. “He saved me from an, let’s call it an unfortunate event, and when we spoke outside, I started to feel this pull towards him. It’s hard to resist it and it grows as we become closer.”

“Closer?”

“For example, when we touch, skin on skin, there are these golden and silver tendrils all over our bodies.”

To demonstrate, Will traces your forearm with his finger and everyone in the room watches as a silver line appears, followed by a golden one. They dance and glow on your skin before disappearing after he lifts his finger off, fading away slowly. “The longer and more, uh, intimate the touch, the more vibrant the colors are. And the longer they stay visible.”

Pope coughs behind you and Frankie snickers at the words, but a sharp look from Will shuts both men up quickly. The elders seem nonplussed at the information, almost as if they were expecting it, and the man who previously studied you leans forward.

He starts firing off questions, about the intensity of the colors, the pattern and how long the tendrils stay on the skin after the touch ends and if you have any other symptoms. You and Will both try to answer as best as you can, with Benny piping up when it comes to the length of time but a lot of it is still shrouded in mystery.

It feels almost like an inquisition as the rest of the elders join in on the questions. You lose track of how many you answer and you can feel Will feel the same, the irritation running off him in waves. You talk about your past, your studies and your work, the emotions that have transferred over, how it affects you when the emotions hit you. You describe the dizziness, the magnetic pull, the happiness in the hum as you are close.

Will talks about his desire to protect, the warmth of the tendrils as they move on his body and the hunger that makes his wolf crawl and pounce in his chest, wanting to be let loose. He describes the anger he felt at the pub when he understood what would happen and the physical pull he felt to stay outside of your door and the worry he felt as your knees buckled when the wave of his emotions hit you.

When they are finally out of questions, you feel like slumping back to the couch in exhaustion. It’s almost like you’ve just ran a marathon and recited your entire dissertation at the same time. Benny hands you a bottle of water from the kitchen which you chug down eagerly, your throat parched. From the corner of your eye, you see Will do the same, emptying half of the bottle in a few gulps.

But there is something inside you, a question that burns in your mind that is begging to be let out. You turn towards the woman. “You spoke of the bond being between two wolves. But I am not a wolf, nor is anyone in my family. Actually, I’m nothing at all, just a mundane. Why has the bond decided to connect us?” Beside you, Will lets out a huff of disapproval, clearly disagreeing with your notion that you are nothing, but you ignore it now. You can grapple over details later.

“It’s a very good question, my child. But clearly the bond knows more than what we do now. The connection has always been rare and not all wolves experience it. So it’s not to say other creatures, or even mundanes such as you, experience it too but in a very rare form.” She looks at her peers, something flashing in her eyes before continuing hesitantly.

“Maybe…”

Will intejects quickly. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you need to try and complete the bond to see what happens. If it takes or if it was only a false alarm.” She offers finally, after a long moment of silence. You feel like the wind is knocked out of you. It sounds very ominous and there is even a chance that all this is for nothing? Your shock must show in your face, because she is hasty to continue.

“We are walking on uncharted territory here, so we don’t exactly know what is going to come once the attempt to complete the bond is made. So I would advise you to think carefully if you want to proceed with this. Once the decision is made, you would complete it here, within our pack grounds for safety.”

You mull over her words, trying to organize your thoughts. You feel Will reach out to you, surely with questions of his own but your next one slips out before you can fully comprehend the possible damage they might do.

“And should we want to break this connection?”

Your words hang in the air but it feels like a bomb has gone off. You feel Benny turn to look at you, his eyes burning on your face, and Pope lets out an involuntary sound of protest. The elders all look at you in surprise and you can feel your ears buzzing with static as they register what you just asked.

You start to open your mouth to explain you only want to know the options available but the body next to you jumping to his feet and stomping out of the house stops that in its tracks. You all watch as the broad shoulders disappear outside the house and a door slams in its wake.

You wince and hunch your own shoulders forward as you wish you’d stayed silent, maybe bought in your stones to help. You could really use a little extra now that the three men turn to look at you with disapproval.

Will doesn’t look at anyone as he rushes out, feeling the tightness in his chest spread rapidly. He can hardly breathe properly and as he leans over the terrace railing, he can feel the agitation of his wolf as the animal weeps and howls inside him.

He doesn’t see it but he knows that his eyes are flashing rapidly and he can feel the need to shift, to run and be alone in the woods. It itches under his skin, clawing out to change skin into fur and fingers into paws. He paces the porch, opening and closing his fists to stop himself from shifting in broad daylight.

Is he alone with his thoughts, his dreams, his hopes? Surely he must, because you can so easily ask about breaking the bond. Like this isn’t it for you like it is for him.

He knows it’s crazy to feel this way, to want something so big and grand after such a short time. He can’t help himself though and his wolf agrees; he’s fallen in love and he’s not going to change his mind.

It feels so different compared to all the times he’s had a girlfriend. Even the one time he had a fiancée, someone he thought he was ready to commit to, even then it didn’t feel like this. The burst of warmth he feels whenever you look at him, the undeniable pull he has when you aren’t touching each other and the mere idea that you don’t want this leaving a gaping wound on his heart. It has taken over him completely and he has willingly surrendered to it.

He thinks about his former lover, wincing at the final memory in the parking lot of Publix after the altercation, trying to find differences between that relationship and what is budding here.

Had the bond been there even then? Was that the reason his fiancée left, why he couldn’t calm himself down in her presence? Why she had to jump on his back and still it wasn’t enough to break his grip? Was he not damaged goods and a complete failure in love after all? Or worse yet, was he because it seemed so easy for you to talk about breaking the connection?

A soft tap on his shoulder makes him whirl around and face Frankie, who looks sheepish at being sent over to check on him.

“You good?” The other man winces when the words leave his lips, he can clearly tell from the agitated look Will is sporting that the blond man is definitely not good. He just shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, gazing off somewhere behind Frankie’s shoulder. Slowly Will gathers his thoughts, using the skills taught to him to place all his worries into tiny little compartments in his mind. He lets out a breath and counts them for later, before turning to his brother.

“Not really. Did the elders give out the instructions to break the bond yet?”

He sounds defeated even to his own ears but there’s nothing to be done about it now. Despite the want and need and desire to go all the way, whatever the completion of the bond means, if you won’t do it, neither will he. He won’t force it, never can and never will, and he will respect your decision.

“No. The elders are talking with one another now, gathering all the needed information so you can talk with your mate and make a choice. You know the question needed to be asked, deep down.”

“Yeah.” Frankie is right, Will admits to himself. The logical side of him wins out, but the sting of rejection is still there.

“At this point we don’t even know what it will take for you to try and complete it. But you acting like this, all out of character, doesn’t do any good. Your mate is just as distressed as you are about this, possibly even more considering this is all so new and unexpected, and I can smell the conflicted emotions on both of you. Find out the options, talk it out, make a decision together. It’s the only way any of this can work.”

“Mmmmm.”

“You know I’m right, hermano.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Fish, it won’t do you any good.” Will smirks as he claps his brother on the back and the other man only grins wolfishly in return before guiding them back in.

You sit and wait quietly inside, shoulders tight, mulling over your own thoughts. You wish you were with your books in your tiny cupboard of an office back at the museum, helping the elders figure it all out but you suspect that something this intimate would’ve been recorded into writing.

What does it take to complete a bond? You shift through your mind, trying to think of bonding spells but most of the ones you know only bind two inanimate objects to one another or help with the natural bond created in nature. Nothing about two humans, mythicals or not, connecting on a level deeper than normal. .

But would you want to break it or complete it? That is the million dollar question. Both surely have their risks but ultimately it is about if you want him in your life and if he has those same feelings. And your feelings are all jumbled up and you can’t help but to wonder if they are real or a byproduct of the connection.

As the two men return to the room and take their places, it feels icy cold when Will doesn’t touch you, choosing to sit as far as possible from you. You want to reach out, explain yourself and your thoughts, talk to him freely but he refuses to glance at you, keeping his head high and aimed forward. You are resigned back to silence as you wait for the elders to return with more news.

The only sound is the ticking clock on the wall as all of you are wrapped in your minds. It ticks forwards slowly but surely and as the hour chimes a change, one of the elders return into the room. He isn’t the one from before, but a short and stocky man with a gentle expression on his face and keen eyes, something that distantly reminds you of Pope. He faces your group huddled in the loveseat and behind it.

“May I speak to William and his mate alone?” He asks, aiming his words to Will’s brothers. They all nod and vacate the room with touches of support for him. Benny twists his body to hug Will, his eyes flashing blue again. He gives you a look, something that is hard to decipher, as he mumbles something into the older man’s ear before releasing him.

You both want to know what he said but also not. It can’t have been too good if his eyes changed. You have come to the conclusion the shift in color is triggered by something, maybe emotional triggers or more. Yet another thing you don’t understand yet, you think dejected.

Once the room is empty, the man sits in the armchair. He seems to ponder his words carefully, trying to decide the best course of action and you wait, holding your breath. The silence grates your nerves. If only you had your stones with you, but you hadn’t thought to pick them up. Usually you didn’t need them unless there was a special occasion and the whirlwind of the morning had swept you away. So you can only mumble out a small calming spell and hope for a placebo effect.

“We have a tentative idea of what the completion of the bond is. There are some details that are missing, but we are in talks with the other packs to fill them out. We also have an idea on how to proceed should you want to break it. But I must warn you, going down that road will be complicated and painful as it requires separating your souls and making sure they never reach out to one another again.”

The elder pauses, his eyes turning calculating. He looks at Will first and the man faces him head-on, the soldier inside him coming to life as he shuts down his emotions. His jaw is tight and his shoulders set, the air around him still.

You watch the transformation and when it clicks, it chills you to the bone. You are no longer in the presence of Will, but with Captain William Miller of the Delta Force. A man or wolf no more, but a war machine, with a single thought in his mind; to complete the mission. There are no if’s or but’s, he will take the instruction and decision and execute it to perfection.

The elder turns to look at you, his eyes searching for something in you. Whether he finds it or not, you cannot tell, but the elder breaks the connection after a while and turns away from you.

“To break it, you’ll each drink a potion every night for seven nights and on the eighth, you will perform a ritual to separate your souls from one another. After it is done, you’ll be escorted home and you can never return here. William, you will be escorted home also, but you cannot return to the places you’ve been together. For the rest of your lives, you’ll need to take extreme care not to bump into one another as it will be most painful if you do.”

He pauses as he lets the words sink in, watching with interest as the soldier listening to orders doesn’t flinch but you do, your eyes once again betraying the worry inside you.

“Should you want to complete it, you would need to make your souls bare and intertwine them to one another. This can be achieved by giving into these urges you feel.”

“Urges?” Will speaks finally, the word coming out clipped and void of emotion. You wince internally, but try to keep your face blank so as to not alarm anyone. If this is going where you think it is going, the next words will confirm your theory that sprung up in your mind as soon as the elder mentioned souls.

“You will need to be intimate with one another. As in have sex. And he will have to bite you as you reach an orgasm. This will bind you to one another for as long as you live.”

The shock on your face is clearly written as you fully understand the words and the meaning behind them. Wait, what? He’s going to bite you?

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess @luxmundee @innerpaperexpertcloud

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply @10blurredsmoke10 @caillea @mariesackler @princessxkenobi

#william miller #will miller #william ironhead miller #will ironhead miller #will miller x f!reader #cw: mythical creatures #cw: werewolves #cw: dash of angst #will miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #my writing #charlie hunnam fanfiction

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ethanesimp · 3 years ago

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TORNA DA ME // ONE

Pairing: Damiano David x Med Student Fem! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, things that would never happen irl

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: Y/N’s big decision and how it affects her life.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: I made sure to remove every description that was too specific to the OC (ex. eye color, skin tone, etc.) but please let me know if I missed one. There are some specific things regarding family members that I couldn’t remove without them eventually changing/messing up the plot later on. I’m really sorry about that :(

-Winter Fourteen-

The New Year was supposed to be all about changing perspectives and clean slates. It was the only time of the year where everyone could try and have a fresh start. Y/N thought of it as bullshit, but for the first time, she was willing to listen and try to have a fresh start herself.

Ever since she could remember, Y/N had spent most of her afternoons at the music conservatory close to her father's workplace, learning everything there was to know about the violin, an instrument her family had played for years. Her mother had started teaching her the basics as soon as she turned two years old. While playing was something she loved and was very good at, no part of Y/N thought of it as the thing she wanted to spend her whole life doing.

She knew all about how her mother had been in different orchestras growing up until she became a soloist, and eventually a famous violinist in her country. Truth be told, it sounded like an amazing thing, but something about following in those footsteps had never felt right.

Y/N never fully understood why until she was introduced to anatomy class during her second year of middle school. She was brilliant at it and loved to hear all about the different functions a human body had and just how much work it took to do even the simplest of tasks. She'd spend all her free time reading more about it in a book she'd convinced her parents into buying or ones she found at the local library. It didn't take long for her to fall in love with it all to the point where, if she wasn't reading, she'd surely be watching videos about it on YouTube.

Then, out of nowhere came the thought that had caused many sleepless nights and confusion to arise. She didn't know when the thought had originated exactly, but it had been roaming her mind for a while... She wanted to get into Med School. The more she found herself thinking and investigating about it, the happier she became with the idea. It didn't help that she'd gotten Medicine as one of her best matches in an aptitude test they'd done for fun during their last day of school before winter break.

Y/N still hadn't told Damiano a thing and she was dreading doing so after the way her parents reacted to the news. He was her best friend though, and she needed a second opinion on the matter. Damiano was the perfect person to give her one because he knew her better than her parents and wasn’t as biased as they were.

That was the only reason why she finally convinced herself to whisk him away from her family's annual New Year's party a few minutes after the clock hit twelve-thirty. He followed Y/N to her room without complaining and sat on her bed quietly as she paced around the room. She needed to find the perfect way to break the news to him in hopes that he wouldn't freak out the way her parents had.

"Damià" She stuttered out after a few minutes of silence, "I have something to tell you but it's kind of important so I need you to be as serious as possible about this as you can."

Once she stopped talking, Y/N saw it all over his face that he was more than ready to make a joke, so she interrupted before he could even open his mouth, "I'm serious, Damiano. One joke and I tell your Nonna what happened to the porcelain vase she bought in Paris during her honeymoon."

"Oh, wow. That serious, huh?" He questioned playfully, but immediately erased the teasing smirk on his face when he saw Y/N shooting daggers right at him. Damiano raised his hands in defeat, "Fine, I'll shut up. Just, please stop walking all over the place. It's making me nauseous."

Damiano gestured at the empty spot beside him. She climbed on the bed and made him sit so they were facing each other. Y/N grabbed one of his hands and toyed around with the ring on his index finger to stop herself from shaking or stuttering much because, even though the stutter had faded as she grew, it still took her a huge effort to string sentences together whenever she was nervous.

"O-Okay, so... I'm most likely leaving the conservatory," She finally confessed, "As you know... I barely have time to even eat after school because I spend most of the afternoon at the conservatory every day. It's taken a huge toll on my grades and I cannot let that happen now that I've started High School."

"Listen I-I've given this a lot of thought, but I'm almost a hundred percent sure that I want to get into Med School. I uh... don't think the violin thing is for me, not anymore at least," Y/N finished.

He stayed silent for a while, not because he was shocked or disappointed. In fact, he kind of saw it coming when she slowly started replacing her music sheets with diagrams and science infographics. Damiano just needed a second to find the right words because, by the way her hand was shaking and her eyes were focused on him, he could tell that his opinion was important to her.

"Se è questo che ti rende felice, penso che sia un'idea eccellente. Hai tutto il mio appoggio amore," He responded simply and gave her hand a firm squeeze of reassurance. (If that's what makes you happy, I think it's an excellent idea. You have all my support love.)

"Sul serio?" She asked. Damiano seemed calm and not shocked at all by her decision. (Seriously?)

He nodded and was about to say something else when she threw herself into his arms unexpectedly. Damiano laughed as he fell back onto the bed. She kissed both his cheeks repeatedly and then his forehead.

Once she stopped kissing his face, Damiano spoke once again, "Of course I'm serious. Not gonna lie, I think I saw it coming a long time ago. You looked happier after your first Anatomy and Physiology class than I've ever seen you after a violin lesson."

Eventually, she rolled off him and just laid in his arms while he rubbed her back, "Have you told your parents yet?" Damiano wondered after a bit of silence.

Y/N sighed but nodded, "Yeah, honestly wish I hadn't said a thing."

"I get they didn't take it too well, did they?" She shrugged and went back to playing with the ring on Damiano's finger.

"I mean, dad didn't say much, you know how he is. Mamá on the other hand freaked out. I swear she almost used her whole repertoire of swear words in Spanish. Said I was throwing my future at the conservatory away to focus on something that I'll probably stop liking once the time comes for me to get into college."

Y/N's mother, an elegant Mexican woman was always the face of serenity. Her eyes were calm and warm, and her smile was always soft. But God protect whoever dared to make her mad. All that kindness easily transformed into hostility. While she'd never dare raise her hand at anyone, much less her daughter, the woman was still sort of terrifying.

"She's probably right, I don't know," Y/N rambled, knowing Damiano wouldn't mind, "I do get terrified every once in a while when I think about the fact that I'll be studying very well into my late twenties, but then I think about all I would be able to learn and all the people I could hopefully help and it seems so worth it."

Damiano nodded along to her words, "I mean yeah. If it's something you love, you won't even notice time passing by. Besides, you're one year ahead so you've got that to your advantage, right? You'd be a year younger than everyone once you finish."

"And if you do end up studying until you're like thirty-three, I'll do everything in my power to help you keep your sanity and make you enjoy your youth," He added with a large grin. Y/N rolled her eyes. It sounded like a joke, but she knew he was telling the truth.

-Spring Seventeen-

It was already a few minutes past four in the afternoon and Y/N was still sitting at her desk as she'd been since very early in the morning. She flipped through one of the many flashcard packets she'd made and repeated all the information out loud to try and memorize as much as she could.

Y/N was about to present what could be a life-changing exam. She had always thought there wasn't such a thing, that her future would never depend on a few sheets of paper, but it turned out that there was.

While she'd allowed others to think she wasn't nervous or dreading it, on the inside Y/N was going insane. She had spent years working towards her dream and the test was the one thing that would make or break all her hard work. It was an absurd thing to place all her worth into one thing, especially when she'd spent so long separating her grades from her self-worth. Yet, it was the very thing she couldn't get out of her head.

Someone knocked on the door softly. Y/N sighed in relief, thankful to get her thoughts interrupted before chaotic scenarios where she failed the test started playing in her head, "Come in."

A few seconds later, a plate of food and a cup of mint tea were placed on her desk. Without looking away from the flashcards, she mumbled, "Thanks mom, but I'm not hungry."

"God, you really are out of it, aren't you?" A voice she knew all too well spoke. She turned around in her chair and almost squealed in excitement when she saw Damiano. Y/N didn't hesitate to jump out of her chair and into his open arms.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her forehead against his. It'd been weeks since they had seen each other after he left on vacation with his family for almost a whole month and seeing him had already lifted her mood and made her forget all about the negative thoughts that clouded her mind just a few minutes earlier.

"I missed you," Y/N told him before placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Damiano kissed her forehead and smiled, "I missed you too, cara mia," He said and put her back down. A frown appeared on his face the moment he saw the dark circles underneath her eyes. She looked exhausted.

"So, how's studying going?" Y/N shot him a knowing look, fully aware that he'd started to worry. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed before sitting back down and picking up the flashcards from her desk.

She scratched the back of her neck, "It could be uh... going better. I guess?"

"Why don't you try and take a break?" Damiano suggested. He understood better than anyone why she worked so hard, he knew about her constant fear of her efforts not being enough when they mattered most, but even Damiano wasn't blind to the fact that she was starting to overwork herself, which would do her no good.

Y/N shook her head, "I don't need one. I'm doing fine, I promise."

Damiano gave her a pointed look, which she didn't even acknowledge because she was too concentrated on trying to learn the information in front of her. He sighed, knowing it was useless to try and convince her because she was far too stubborn. He took off the boots he'd been wearing and let himself fall on her bed, "Fine then, I'll stay here until you take a break and eat something."

He grabbed the first thing that was at the very top of a small pile of books she kept on the nightstand and almost laughed to himself when he saw it was another Agatha Christie book because he swore those were the only ones she read.

Every once in a while, he'd stop flipping the pages and would glance at her. Y/N found it amusing and just a tad bit endearing that he'd actually spend all afternoon sitting on her bed while flipping through a book he didn't give a shit about if that was what it took to make sure she was fine. She shook her head and bit her lip, then went back to revising the cards.

"Adoro il tuo sorriso," Damiano commented after a few minutes of silence. He could tell Y/N had been holding back a smile while she tried to keep studying and he found it entertaining to tease her just enough to distract her and make her laugh. (I love your smile.)

"Stai zitto," She responded and finally laughed, unable to hold it back, "Mi stai distraendo." (Shut up... you're distracting me.)

"Sei tu quella che mi distrae sempre," He fired back and nudged her shoulder. Her jaw fell wide open and she placed a hand over her heart to feign offense. Damiano rolled his eyes at that and shook his head. (You're the one who always distracts me.)

"That's a dirty lie and you know it, Damià. Now leave, I need to finish studying this section before dinner."

"Oh, c'mon, just a quick break. You've been studying since... when? Like seven in the morning?" Damiano insisted as he sat down on her bed and flipped through the flashcards she'd spent weeks making. They were all color-coded and kept separated in different piles according to the topic.

He tried to read one and smiled when he noticed the small doodles she'd drawn all over them to try and retain the information better. It was a little thing she'd done ever since they were in kindergarten trying to learn numbers, colors, and shapes. He'd taken on the habit himself and would often draw small doodles on pages with song lyrics he'd written.

"You're not going to leave until I listen to you, are you?" Damiano shook his head, which made her sigh, "Fine."

She climbed on the bed and sat down next to Damiano, who looked more than pleased. Y/N rolled her eyes and ate while she listened to him excitedly talk about his vacation and everything he'd done since winter break started. He sounded the most excited about how his band had found a local contest for bands and they were going to participate in it soon.

They were both similar in their level of ambition when it came to making their dreams come true. They worked hard and now both Damiano and Y/N were one step closer to making what they wished for reality. He'd found a band with ideals that matched his, with people he loved and was close to. She'd finally let go of all the doubts that held her back and was going to make the big jump and try to get into one of the best colleges in the city to study Medicine.

It was an exciting yet scary thing, but they knew that no matter what happened, they'd always have their best friend to turn to for love and support. For some strange reason, that seemed to ease them enough to forget about what could go wrong. At least for a while.

"So yeah... Oh! And before I forget, make sure to have tonight free, yeah? We're eating out with the guys," Y/N looked back at her best friend with a slightly annoyed look and was about to open her mouth to complain when he spoke again, "Nope, don't even try to get out of it, I promised. Besides, they miss you."

She rolled her eyes but didn't say a thing because she also missed the three people she'd gotten closer to ever since they started playing with Damiano. Y/N already knew Victoria and Thomas because they were only two years below her in school and one below Damiano. They'd hang out together sometimes and were part of the same circle of friends. While she hadn't met Ethan before, they instantly became good friends thanks to their mutual love for books and similar sense of humor.

"I seriously hate you sometimes," She admitted jokingly, only to receive a cheeky grin in return, "But fine, I miss them too. Could we take a nap before we have to go, though? Honestly, I'm exhausted."

Damiano laughed but nodded nonetheless. He opened his arms and beckoned for her to get closer, "Sure, c'mere."

After placing the dirty dishes on the nightstand, Y/N laid down right next to him, with her head comfortably placed on his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. With the help of Damiano's soft humming and the warmth of his body against hers, it didn't take long for her to fall asleep. He just stroked her hair and kept humming until he eventually fell asleep too.

-Summer Seventeen-

Damiano dropped the last box of stuff by the living room, where a few more boxes already sat. The place was mostly empty except for the old couch and coffee table that sat in the center of the room. Other than that the apartment was bare.

Even as Y/N stood in the middle of the room and looked around, she still couldn't believe the apartment was her new home... and Damiano's. It was a crazy thing, for two seventeen-year-olds to move out of their homes and into a small apartment in the heart of Rome.

Ever since Damiano had brought up the idea after Y/N's parents had told her to turn down her place and scholarship at the college because it was too far away from their home, they'd had countless fights about the whole thing. Y/N didn't want to burden her best friend with something so big, but he was stubborn and insistent.

Damiano kept on telling her they both had enough money to cover the rent for at least a year. The owner of the apartment building was a family member of his who had been kind enough to adjust the price to one that was affordable and manageable for them both. Apart from, that, they both had a considerable amount of savings, her from working at a small restaurant throughout High School and him… well, he had never been too specific about how he’d saved enough money for it.

In the end, she agreed, and thankfully so did her parents. Luckily for Y/N, they trusted him much more than they probably should, so when Damiano put the idea on the table during dinner one night, they agreed without much convincing.

"God, this is crazy," Y/N mumbled as she followed Damiano to the small balcony they could access through a sliding door by the kitchen.

They both stood side by side and admired the beautiful view before them. It almost felt like it was all a dream they'd wake up from soon enough, "Tell me about it," Damiano added as he blew out a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he had just lit.

"Thank you," She stuttered out and bit her lip to try and stop herself from crying, "This wouldn't have been possible without you. How can I ever pay you back for this?"

He turned to face her and tilted her chin up with his hand, "You can by going out there and following your dream, pretty girl," Y/N smiled up at him as tears started falling down her face. Damiano wiped them away with his thumb and kissed her nose, "You're brilliant, truly. I've seen how hard you've worked these past few years to get here and I know you'll be an amazing doctor one day. I believe in you just as much as I believe in myself, hell, maybe even more."

She laughed, "Woah, then you do believe in me a lot, don't you?" Damiano rolled his eyes and chuckled before he pulled her into his chest and wrapped one of his arms around her body.

-Present Day: Winter Twenty-

The apartment was unusually quiet when Y/N arrived. She was more than used to the sound of Damiano singing while he cooked breakfast in the kitchen for her and his bandmates who'd surely arrive shortly after her so they could work on songs for a few hours. That morning, however, he was nowhere to be seen. As much as she loved him with her whole heart, it was a relief to have the apartment to herself for once.

While she had planned to go directly to bed and sleep off the stress of her two-hour class, it quickly changed the moment she saw a red envelope mixed in with their mail. The piece of paper inside it was the main reason why she was glad that none of her friends were around like they usually would be.

She'd applied to a program in early October to try and get a scholarship to study in Madrid and complete her first month of hospital rotation there. The chances of it happening were pretty slim so she didn't expect much of it, but even then, she knew that a part of her would've felt ashamed if she had opened the letter while her friends were around only to get her application declined. They were just as anxious as she was to know the final results and she didn't want to let them down.

Right as Y/N had gathered enough courage to break the seal that kept the envelope closed she heard the familiar sound of keys being dumped on the bowl they kept by the door, shortly followed by Victoria's contagious laugh.

Her first instinct was to hide the envelope, but before she could even try, she felt the weight of Victoria's arms around her neck, "Ciao, bella," The blonde smiled and pressed a kiss to Y/N's cheek. (Hi, beautiful.)

Damiano, Thomas, and Ethan greeted her with warm hugs and kisses on the cheek. She felt herself relax when they all sat down in the living room and started talking about plans for their next tour. Phew, she relaxed, no one had noticed the envelope, everything was fi—

"Hey, what've you got there?" Ethan asked as his eyes fell on the envelope. Oh, for fuck's sake.

Y/N diverted her gaze to one of the plants that sat in the corner of the room as she played with the ring on her finger, "Uh... No-Nothing," She smiled nervously and cursed mentally for stuttering because that gave her mediocre attempt at a lie away.

Damiano frowned, "Tutto bene?" He questioned, voice laced with worry. (Everything alright?)

Before she could even come up with a lie convincing enough to get them to relax, Thomas spoke up, "È la lettera sulla cosa di Madrid, vero?" (It’s the letter about the Madrid thing, right?)

She sighed and nodded, "Sì, ma la verità è che non mi aspetto molto. È molto difficile essere selezionati per questo e io—." (Yes but the truth is that I don't expect much. It's very difficult to be selected for this and I-)

"Dai, Y/N! Sei una ragazza molto intelligente. Sono sicuro che la risposta nella lettera è sì. Se no, sono un mucchio di idioti per non aver realizzato il tuo talento," Ethan reassured while the other three nodded in agreement. They all believed in her far too much and she was sure they'd all be disappointed if the answer was a no. (C'mon, Y/N! You're a very smart girl. I'm sure the answer in the letter is yes. If not, they are a bunch of idiots for not realizing your talent.)

Still, she brushed off all the insecurities and sat down in between Damiano and Victoria, who had scooted over to let her sit. Y/N broke the seal but hesitated to open it. She looked at Damiano and Ethan for reassurance, both nodded.

"Okay, shit. Here we go," She mumbled and took out the thick paper from the envelope. Her hands were shaking as she tried to unfold it.

Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a split second before she started reading the contents out loud, skipping the first few sentences of greetings, "Miss Y/L/N, we regret to inform you that all the vacant spots for the UoM Program for Medicine have already been filled..." The last few words died down in her throat as disappointment started to sink in.

She was about to place the letter back in the envelope when Victoria stopped her, "Wait, wait. N/N, keep reading."

When she didn't, Damiano gently grabbed the letter from her hands and cleared his throat before he started reading from where she'd left off, "However, after carefully looking at your résumé and evaluating your application, we are pleased to inform you that you qualify for the Martin Scholarship for Medicine. If you decide to accept, it gives you the opportunity of studying at the University of Madrid for six months to complete your first semester of hospital rotations in the areas of Gynecology, Obstetrics, and Pediatrics with the same terms as the UoM Program..."

Silence fell upon the group as they all tried to process what Damiano had just read. Y/N's body had gone stiff after taking the letter back and reading over the thing once again. It took a while for realization to hit, and when it finally did, it felt as if all the blood had rushed out of her body.

Ethan was the first one to react. He jumped out of where he was sitting on the couch and pushed Victoria out of the way to wrap his arms around Y/N, "Complimenti per la borsa di studio, piccolina. Sono così felice per te." (Congratulations on the scholarship, little one. I'm so happy for you.)

His sweet words and warm embrace were enough to snap her out of the shocked state she was in. Y/N didn't even notice she had started crying until Victoria wiped her tears away. It felt as if a bucket of freezing water had just been dropped over her head. There was just no way she had just gotten accepted for a scholarship that just happened to be better than the one she had signed up for initially. God, her parents would flip out.

She sat there for several minutes with Ethan, Victoria, and Thomas all huddled together in a little ball as they hugged. Meanwhile, Damiano stayed on the same spot, still unable to move from the shock.

Once they all took notice of Damiano's state, Victoria cleared her throat. She nudged Ethan and Thomas on the ribs not-so-subtly and stood up, "I have to go to my dad's and pick up some furniture for my apartment and the guys are gonna help me. Isn't that right, Ethan?"

Ethan looked at Victoria with a frown on his face, but her deadly stare was enough for him to nod, "Right, of course. We'll see you two later."

"Congrats again, amore," Thomas mumbled and gave her one last kiss on the cheek before the three of them walked out of the apartment, leaving Damiano and Y/N alone.

After minutes of awkward silence and Damiano looking like he'd seen a ghost, Y/N spoke up to try and dissipate the tension, "You look more surprised than I do Dami."

He blinked a few times before wiping his teary eyes and looked back at his best friend, "Sorry, sorry. It just took me a bit off-guard. I mean, six months. That's... that's—"

"A long time," Y/N interrupted and Damiamo could only nod, "I was honestly not expecting this one bit either. I doubted I was good enough to study there for a month, imagine half a year."

"Are you sure it isn't a mistake? They probably got your application mixed up with someone else's." Damiano asked with a huge smile on his face, which made Y/N burst out laughing.

"Sei un stronzo," She chuckled and shoved him jokingly. Just as she was about to say something, one of their four cats jumped into Y/N's lap and cuddled into her arm. (You're an asshole.)

She smiled down at the little dark-brown cat she'd rescued from the streets just a few weeks back and softly stroked its small head, "I'm going to miss my little babies more than I'll miss you. You can go fuck yourself."

Damiano rolled his eyes and laughed, "You're adorable," Then he asked the dreaded question, "When are you supposed to leave?"

"I don't know if I'm actually going to accept, to be honest. My parents still don't know and I'm pretty sure you remember how they reacted when I showed them my acceptance letter last time. If it wasn't for you, they would've made me turn it down and this time around, I'm pretty sure you cannot move all the way to Madrid with me even if we both wanted to," She added the last part with a chuckle to try and make it look like she wasn't too worried about her parents and the way they'd react.

He sighed and placed one of his hands on her thigh reassuringly, "You know I love your parents, but honestly, fuck what they think. You have to accept this offer, the chances of something like this happening again are incredibly slim. Besides, they need to stop reflecting their dreams and failures onto you and just let you do what you love. You don't even need their money for this, it's a full ride, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I mean if they're the same terms as the UoM program they pay for everything except for my meals, but I'm sure I have enough money to cover those. But what about the apartment, Damiano? I mean, I can still deposit money to your account to pay my part and—."

"Don't even start stressing about that right now. You just achieved something amazing, why don't you let yourself enjoy it for a while? Let's go celebrate and afterward I'll take you to your parents' place and we can tell them about this together, okay?" She nodded and smiled gratefully at her best friend. Y/N didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck and let herself relax for a little while.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david x y/n #damiano david series #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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timelordthirteen · 4 years ago

Text

Desperate Souls 6/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: Another evening, another dinner, but this time Belle surprises Gold and herself.

Notes: IT HAS BEEN 84 YEARS. I am so sorry. Basically March and April were catastrophes, mostly of a work variety. A lot of things happened, I got super burned out, and I thought a lot about quitting my job. BUT... things are looking up significantly, and the muse is back. This is what Belle is wearing. ;)

[AO3]

Thursday evening, Belle arrived at ten minutes to six.

Gold seemed surprised when he opened the door, and she wondered if the events of the previous day, including their little tiff in his shop, had made him think she wasn’t coming for dinner. He was wearing a deep purple shirt, striped with a darker shade, and a plain tie in yet another purple tone. The look was topped off with a set of gold sleeve garters just above his elbows.

He’d held the door, taken her coat with little more than the usual Miss French, and guided her into the dining room, where he presented her with a plate of lamb chops and sizzled garlic, dressed with a mint and rosemary, chimichurri style sauce. To the side was a mix of roasted carrots and parsnips, sliced and blistered under the broiler, and tossed in the drippings from the lamb. It smelled amazing, and though she had initially thought the mint sauce would be too bold and overpowering, it melded perfectly with the earthy flavor of the lamb and vegetables. It was as if Gold was overtly trying to impress her with his prowess in the kitchen.

“Do you - like lamb?”

Belle looked up from her plate and blinked at him. “Um, yeah, yeah it’s good. The sauce especially.”

He nodded and stabbed his fork into the center of a carrot. “Good.”

She picked up her wine and took a long swallow as he focused back on his food. Perhaps she had made a mistake in coming over early and assuming that what had happened yesterday wasn’t going to affect anything. The silence lingered, broken awkwardly by the occasional scrape of silverware, and despite the food being delicious, she had barely eaten anything. Her stomach felt even more hollow than the first time she’d come over, and all she wanted was for the whole thing to be over so she could go home and ruminate on the mess her father was in.

She hadn’t quite sorted out what the hell to do about that situation, and though she didn’t know for sure where the money had gone, she worried that Moe had slipped back into the old, bad habits he had developed in the years after her mother died. They had been part of the reason for their move from California all the way to Maine. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be pulled into that again, that she wouldn’t let his vices upend her life.

The abrupt sound of a fork clattering against a plate shook her from her rumination. She looked up to find Gold staring across the table at her, his silverware resting against the china, and his hands folded and held up in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Belle’s head tilted slightly, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t let you know about the - situation - with your father.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I put the blame on you instead of where it should be, which is squarely on my father. The terms of his loan are between you and him, and probably confidential anyway.”

Gold lowered his hands and shifted in his seat. “Yes, but I still could have said something, perhaps hinted, or suggested that you speak to him about the loan for the flowers. Instead -”

It was her turn to sigh. “No, it’s fine, really I -” He held up a hand, and she stopped, her fingers twisting her napkin against her thigh.

“Let me finish,” he said softly. “My business with Moe, and my arrangement with you, are completely separate things as far as I’m concerned. One does not have any bearing on the other. I understand that isn’t the case for you, and that your father’s financial situation has possibly made yours worse.”

“Yeah...” She looked away, turning her gaze towards the living room doorway which had a view through to the front window. The porch lights illuminated the light snow that had started falling shortly after she arrived.

“As for your father not being truthful with you...” He trailed off and exhaled heavily.

She let out a humorless, scoffing laugh and glanced at Gold’s face before turning her gaze to her barely eaten meal. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, sadly.”

He gave her a look that was as much a smile as it was a grimace. “It’s deplorable, and I’m sorry for that as well.”

Belle shook her head again. “It’s not your fault, but thank you. I should probably apologize as well.”

“What for?” He frowned and reached for his wine glass.

“For marching into your shop and yelling at you.”

He waved a hand and gave her a half smile before he sipped at his drink. “Consider it forgotten.”

She relaxed at his words, and the awkward tension that had been present since he had first opened the door faded as they went back to their meal and companionable small talk. She hadn’t expected him to apologize. He was known to do so rarely even when there might be blame to lay at his door, but in this case there was none at all, and yet he had seemed compelled to clear the air. To her surprise, he appeared genuinely contrite, and his concern for her situation with her father felt quite sincere.

Gold frowned over his glass as he watched Belle make a little grouping of carrots at one side of her plate. He was glad that they had resolved things between them, but not knowing what Moe French was doing with the money he’d borrowed was concerning. He presumed Belle still didn’t know either, or if she did that it was bad enough she would never say so. At this point, Gold would consider it a miracle if Moe managed to pay him back by the deadline he’d set. Given her current financial situation, helping to pay her father’s debt as well would only make things worse for the both of them.

He was mulling over how to handle that particular situation, when he noticed Belle was watching him. “Finished?”

She smiled and glanced down at her empty plate. “Yes, and it was amazing and delicious, as usual.”

He chuckled, secretly pleased by not only her praise, but also by her choice of words. As usual. There was something shared and familiar in that which he liked far more than he should.

Abruptly, Gold pushed back from the table, and Belle watched as he stood and began to clear the dishes. When he reached across for hers as well, she tried to catch his gaze, but he seemed to be focused on his task.

She stood as well, and eased her way towards the doorway to the living room, intending to take the long way around to the foyer and the small half bath where embarrassment inevitably awaited her. “I’ll um, just go and - and change.”

At that he paused, plates stacked, silverware crossed over the top. His shoulders moved slightly as he let out a breath, and then gave her a brief nod. It was the first time she’d actually said it out loud. Before it had always been the unspoken next step; he cleaned up from dinner, and she went to put on something scandalous. It was the thing they both knew was coming, yet seemed content to leave in a state of plausible deniability.

The closed door of the powder room loomed, and the flutters in her stomach increased with every step, until she almost stumbled through it. A faint gasp slipped out when she flipped the lights on and saw what Gold had left out for her to wear. She pushed the door closed with her weight as she leaned back against it, her eyes trailing over the sheer lace.

This piece happened to be one of her favorites; a lacy, flirty babydoll nightie in a deep purple with a matching panty. Belle took a breath and licked her lips, steeling her nerves as she shrugged off her cardigan and unbuttoned her blouse. A few minutes later, she was tugging the flimsiest pair of purple underwear up her legs, adjusting the thin elastic over her hips before regarding herself in the mirror.

The front of the garment was low, covering the majority of her breasts with a soft lace pattern, but leaving ample cleavage exposed all the way down to the ribbon where the seams met. There was no underwire, but the elastic that went around her chest combined with the cut of the fabric had a slight lifting effect, which in another circumstance might have pleased her, but in this felt like she was offering herself for something. The fabric was even more see-through now that she had it on, and she was thankful that the lighting in the study was soft and dark.

The lower half of the nightie overlapped in the front, and fell in soft pleats above a wide strip of lace near the bottom. The overall effect made it slightly less sheer, but still transparent enough to reveal where the panties did and didn’t cover her. She turned around and looked over her shoulder to see that the hem ended just passed her backside, and swallowed hard.

Facing the mirror again, she braced on the wall and wiggled her feet back into her strappy black heels. She had decided when she was changing clothes after work that she was tired of walking around in bare feet in Gold’s house, and black heels went with nearly everything.

As she was about to exit the powder room, a thought occurred to her. It seemed almost certain now that Gold was working his way towards more and more revealing items, pushing her limits one week at a time. Perhaps she could push back.

Belle smiled to herself as her eyes perused the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Towards the top she could see wide, hefty tomes that reminded her of the encyclopedias she’d grown up with in school, before the days of Wikipedia and Google. Down at a more reachable level, there was a row of well worn volumes, and she touched the spines as her gaze took them in. He had several limited and first editions the likes of which she’d only had access to because she’d worked in libraries, yet here they were one shelf above more contemporary titles. He seemed to have everything from murder mysteries to classic poetry, and her smile grew as her fingers brushed over every published Bronte sister.

Shifting to her right, she came to stand next to the case with the kintsugi tea set, and a strange, warm feeling washed over her as she gave it a fond glance. Above the case however, was something quite unexpected. She’d initially thought it was an art piece, but now that she was truly looking and taking it in, it appeared to be a page from a manuscript in a gothic style lettering. Her eyes scanned the words, going wide as she realized what she was looking at. The title, the bold capital letter surrounded by scripted decoration, the odd, 17th century English spellings...

“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice it.”

Gold’s voice startled her, and she gaped at him for a long moment before her eyes drifted back to the framed page. “Is that from -?”

“From a 1611 King James version of the Bible?” he finished for her, sauntering into the room with a bemused smirk.

Belle blinked. “Yes?”

He flashed his teeth and came to stand beside her, his cane planted in front of him and his hands folded calmly over the handle. “Yes.”

His voice was soft and almost reverent as he looked up, and she gave him a brief glance before skimming the words on the page, her mind automatically adjusting to the strange letters as she read.

“The Apocrypha?” she asked.

Gold smiled crookedly. “Yes, again. I’m surprised you recognized it, considering it’s not the the title page.”

She shrugged, and looked at him, her lips curving. “I have an affinity for the texts that were removed from the Bible. And other religious books too. I always wanted to know what the powers that be didn’t want people to know.”

Her gaze moved back to the page, while his stayed fixed on her, watching the quirk of her lips as she read the words again.

“You were the kid that read all the banned books, weren’t you,” he said, finally.

Belle bit her lip and grinned at him. “I considered it a matter of pride to read all of them as soon as I learned there was such a thing. It’s why I became a librarian. I wanted to make sure that people could always find them if they wanted to.” She looked up, nodded her head towards the Bible page. “There’s always a reason a book ends up on that list, something that makes the man say you shouldn’t read it, and most of the time it’s precisely the reason you should.”

After a pause, she met his eyes and shrugged. “You disagree?”

He shook his head slowly, somehow managing a reply through the dazed fog in his head. “No, no. Quite the opposite.”

He had meant to tease her, and to distract himself from looking too long at what she was wearing, but her response was so earnest, and so well matched to his own thoughts on the matter, that he could do nothing except hold her in even more esteem than he already did. It was another sign that his plan was failing miserably, and yet he refused to be the one to end their deal. He was certain that there would come a point where her sensibilities would get the better of her, pushing her to refuse the silent request hanging in the powder room, and that, combined with whatever disaster was brewing with her father, would be the end of it. He need only be patient.

She looked away and shifted from one foot to the other, temporarily relieving the pressure on her toes. Her shoes were starting to pinch, but the strange, post-dinner conversations she kept having with Gold gave an air of comfortable intimacy to the moment that she didn’t want to dispel. He seemed as surprised by her answers as she was by all the books and objects he’d collected. The pawn shop had always been an eclectic mix of things, which she’d attributed to the nature of the business, but she now suspected it was entirely due to the eclectic inclinations of its owner. Inclinations which only made her want to know more about each one of his possessions, and Gold too, if she was honest.

Abruptly, Belle turned, blowing out a quiet breath as she crossed to the bar next to the fireplace. Behind her, she heard the thump of Gold’s cane, and looked back at him with as much of a smile as she could manage through her nerves.

“Why don’t you sit down,” she said, “and I’ll get your drink.”

Gold blinked at her, his head tilting slightly, before he nodded, and by the time she was done filling the glass with scotch, he was seated in his usual place. She took her time replacing the bottle on the shelf, and then pivoted slowly on her heel, smirking inwardly as she walked towards him.

He was noticeably off kilter, if his wide eyes and white knuckle grip on the arm of the chair was anything to go by, and she decided at the last second to push the envelope. She came close to the right arm of the chair, a hair’s breadth from his hand, and leaned forward ever so slightly to set the glass down on the side table. It was an unnecessary motion that served only to give him a full look at her breasts, but the way his lips parted, and the faint intake of air, sent a tingle down her spine. She returned to her usual spot by the end of the ottoman, and turned around all the way, once, before facing him again and letting him look.

Gold had no idea what was happening. His head felt almost dizzy, and he was vaguely aware that he’d lost control of the evening. She had been so close only a moment ago, her bare thigh a whisper from his fingers, her chest filling his vision for too brief a time. The glow of the fire had illuminated her as she turned and moved to stand by the ottoman, her silhouette leaving nothing to the imagination through the sheer fabric.

She stood still as he openly looked her up and down, and then, without a word or gesture from him, she turned slowly for a second time. He could feel his body react as the hem danced against her backside, and he reached for the glass of scotch, taking a quick sip to calm himself.

Belle found herself oddly amused as she watched Gold take a second gulp of his drink. She’d wrested back a little bit of control, and it had clearly surprised him even more than she’d intended. After a few seconds, he sent the glass aside, and she felt the weight of his gaze settle on her once more. It wasn't lecherous or discomfiting, as she thought it might feel were it anyone else. Instead it made her feel - warm.

“Thank you, Miss French.”

She gave him a small smile, and left to change, but something was different, she was different. She had put Mr. Gold on his back foot, something which few, if any, in Storybrooke could claim. The bathroom door closed, and she kicked off her heels, giving her feet some much needed relief on her way to leaning over the sink. She let out a slow breath and looked up, meeting her own gaze in the mirror and shaking her head.

The way he had looked at her, both when she was going on about banned books, and when she was modeling for him, gave her an unexpected rush. It was - intoxicating - and she was surprised to discover that she liked it. There was something powerful about what she’d done, owning the moment, and leaving no room for the usual embarrassment or awkwardness. A smile crept over her face as she remembered leaning towards him and the sensation that had come over her.

She shivered and rubbed her arms as she straightened, then set about changing back into her clothes. The babydoll was left on the same hanger on which she’d found it, panties included, which felt just a little bit dirty and wrong. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she looked back at it, wondering if she should take it with her or not. So far she’d chosen to leave each item behind, not wanting to take home something that had made her feel so uncomfortable to wear. She didn’t dwell on what he might do with them afterwards, but this piece, and this night were so different that she was almost sad to be leaving it.

Gold was waiting for her by the front door, holding a plastic container. She frowned and then realized it was leftovers from dinner.

“You didn’t need to,” she said, but he only shrugged in response as he handed it over.

The prospect of a second helping of a delicious meal made her smile, but it faded quickly when the yellow envelope came into view. He held that out for her as well, a simple, nondescript thing, but bulging a bit to one side where the money was tucked. It had dulled her good mood with the reminder of what their deal was all about. Still, she managed to thank him, awkwardly, and he bid her good night.

He waited by the door until she was out of sight, swallowed up by the late winter shadows, and then made his way to the powder room. Sighing, he reached for the hanger, and the lingerie that she had once again discarded. It wasn’t part of the deal in any way, but his assumption that she would want the items back, was obviously wrong. She probably saw them as even more tainted than when the fiancé she'd bought them for left her flat broke.

Upstairs, Gold made his way down the long hall to his bedroom, feeling the telltale ache in his bad leg from too many hours on his feet. Moving around the kitchen to make a rather complex dinner had been the last thing he’d needed to do after standing most of the day at the shop, rearranging a couple of the display cases, but it was worth it. Belle had enjoyed the meal, and they had cleared the air between them, at least somewhat.

He stepped into the walk-in closet, passing the neat row of suit jackets and trousers, and the angled shelves of polished dress shoes, to a short hanging area at the back wall. The hook of the hanger made a light clank as it went over the bar, and he sighed. The purple nightie swayed for a few seconds before the fabric stilled, hanging next to the two other items abandoned by Miss French.

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the black chemise from her first visit, drawing the silk between his fingertips. Swallowing hard, his hand brushed the softness of the pink nightie, up and down with the back of his hand from hem to the edge of the lacy cups and back again. There was another pause before he slipped his hand under the sheer purple fabric from this evening, seeing for himself how transparent it truly was, and recalling once more the shape of her in the firelight. It was still slightly warm, and he sucked in a breath, catching a hint of her lingering scent.

His eyes closed as he inhaled again, and though there was no need for a cold shower tonight, he had begun to consider the fact that he may have made a deal he didn’t understand.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #lemon fic #(eventually)#my rumbelle fic #fic #desperate souls

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