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veilder · 3 years

Note

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥

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hornime · 3 years

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hello hello!! happy 500 :D i’m a new follower and i’d like to request a pit stop (i’m pretty sure that’s the alphabet thing) with mr kenma pls and thank u <3

part of my 500 event! [CLOSED]

NSFW ALPHABET | KENMA KOZUME X GN!READER

warnings: 18+, timeskip!kenma, gn!reader, mentions of: filming, exhibitionism, choking, bondage, voyeurism, edging, roleplay

a/n: thank you for requesting!!!! this was super fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

kenma’s competitive with himself, and that’s something that definitely carries into the bedroom. he’s analytical, so he’ll ask you questions that you really cannot take seriously after getting your brains fucked out like how many times did you cum? and on a scale from one to ten how good did that feel? although its not the traditional sort of aftercare, you know that he’s only doing it so he can make the experience better for the next time, and so far he hasn’t failed in doing so.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

himself: his fingers. he’s gotta use them for a lot of things: clicking the mouse while he’s gaming, signing business contracts, making you cream around them, sticking them down your throat, you know, day-to-day things. he looks at his hands with pride with the way they’re able to manipulate anything—especially you.

partner: your wrists. he loves the duality; when he’s holding your forearms above your head and thrusting into you mercilessly, he gets a sort of satisfaction in how limp your wrists go, your clenched fists drooping helplessly in his grasp. but he has reverence for their strength; when you’re choking him, fingers digging into his pulse points, he can’t help but focus on the way your wrist pushes down on his collarbone, the post-sex aches there simply reminders of how he fell to putty in your hands.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

would rather cum on you than inside. let’s face it, he was probably a hentai addict at some point and got hooked on the lewd way they showed backshots, facials, and the like. also a sucker for cumming in your mouth when you give him a blowjob and making you stick your tongue out before swallowing. put on a little show of licking your fingers or your lips and he’ll instantly get hard again.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

wants to fuck you while streaming. even after graduating high school, he’s not the tallest nor the strongest, and he’s constantly getting comments like how did he bag someone as hot as ‘em? or they’re probably just in it for the money on videos that he films with you. he’s not an idiot, he knows that even if he was the world’s hottest person there’d still be hate comments because that’s just how the internet works, but he really really wants to shut them all up by pausing his game and folding your body across his desk. there’s no way in hell he’d follow through with that though, because his career—and probably both of your lives—would be ruined, but he’s not opposed to making some faceless porn videos if you’re down for that kind of thing.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

kenma kept to himself for most of his life, so while he didn’t really have hands-on experience, he did get a lot of knowledge from hentai and mangas and such (which really is a double-edged sword because no, not everyone’s nipples are that sensitive, but its fine). so he kinda had a lot of unrealistic expectations and not a lot of sexual encounters to disprove them. but when he blew up on twitch and youtube? phew this guy had people THROWING themselves at him. and so he did indulge a bit, ‘gained some xp’ and ‘leveled up’ as he’d say, before stumbling upon you.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

when you ride him and he’s sitting up so your chests are pressed together. kenma’s the type of person to see kissing as super intimate (yes, even more intimate than literally being inside you) so he loves this position because he can make out with you. he lives for those heated makeout sessions when you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths and nipping at each other’s lips. also likes the position where either you’re sitting with your back to his chest or vice versa and getting each other off.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i feel like he’d be pretty serious at first, in the early stages of your relationship, but as you got more comfortable, his dorkiness would shine through. like, this guy plays video games for a living, alright? he’s bound to make a few dumb references while you are ‘doing the dirty’, maybe let loose his killer wario impression when things get steamy.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like kenma definitely dyed his pubes blonde as part of a prank at some point so that it matched his hair LMAO. and hygiene-wise, i mean, he still is a musty gamer boy except now he’s getting paid for it. so he probably didn’t take care of it at all before really settling down with a long-term partner (cough, you). now he keeps it trimmed (and he might dye it again for kicks).

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i feel like it varies from situation to situation. depending on the mood and whatnot, he might really cling to the romance stuff and kiss you on the neck or forehead or murmur i love you, that kind of thing. other times, it might just be all about physical pleasure. it all chalks up to what kind of sex you guys are having, really.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

likes to be watched when masturbating. this pretty much goes hand-in-hand with his fantasy of railing you while streaming, but he’s a fan of either having you sit in front of him and boss him around while he’s jerking off or recording himself. also he might have posted a couple of the videos he films for you to a brand new account on twitter, accidentally blew up, and caused the hashtag #isthiskodzuken to trend for a couple weeks... oops.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

filming/voyeurism: kenma spends all his time in front of cameras, and that part of his life is just part of his sexual preferences now. would almost always be down to film a sex tape. when you guys are separated because of work or whatever, your messages are just lewd pictures and snippets back and forth. its really fucking with your data plan.

roleplay: he has an active imagination—need i say more? he’s constantly coming up with scenarios in his head and he’s definitely bought you a sexy cosplay costume on multiple occasions. i can’t see him into anything too intense like ddlg but i’m sure there’s some more milder stuff sprinkled within his sex life.

edging + bondage combo: when he’s subbing, kenma’s definitely the type who wants to relinquish all control. he just wants you to do whatever you want to him and tease him until he’s crying and begging to cum. will squirm a lot, which will eventually prompt you to tie his hands behind his back, which he realizes he likes a lot more than he thought he would.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

his office (feeds into his boss/employee fantasy) and in the bedroom, but just not on the bed (on his desk, at his gaming chair). the bed is for the more lovey-dovey sex.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

this is oddly specific, but i feel like he’s the kind of guy that’ll get really hard if you massage his hair, lull him into a false sense of security, and then wrap your hand around his neck. the moment you squeeze, his face’ll go red and the blood goes rushing to his dick.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes or sex with other people watching. although he might be an exhibitionist, he’s pretty hesitant when it comes to actually being that vulnerable for another person. there’s a fine line between the thrill of possibly doing it with other people and then the reality of actually doing it with other people and its a line that he most likely will not cross. after all, even though he’s more extroverted than he used to be, sex is still something you still had to coax him out of his shell for.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

giving (50%): he likes the ego boost that comes with making you cum with just his mouth and, since he keeps note of the kinds of things that really get you over the edge, he’s constantly getting better at it. likes fingering even more, though, so he’ll almost always have his fingers in your hole while he does it.

receiving (50%): loves getting blowjobs while he’s gaming and his headset mic is on (exhibitionist, cough cough). his favorite time to get oral is when you’ve got him tied to a chair and are taking your own sweet time, daring him to cum at the frustratingly slow pace you’re going.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

regardless of the scene, he goes relatively slow. likes savoring the moment and likes seeing your reactions to each of his individual movements even more so he wouldn’t like rushing things.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

honestly, not a fan of them. he gets really flustered after sex, like red-face-and-heavy-breathing-and-messy-hair kind of flustered, so he sucks at composing himself. the last thing he wants is for his stakeholders to realize he got the soul sucked out of him from the burning blush on his cheeks, therefore he like sex when he can take his time with it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

will be down to experiment if you’re clear about it. open communication is a big one for taking steps in sex because he’s not the best at reading people. so as long as you explain what exactly you want to do, sure, he’ll try it.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not more than a couple rounds, but they will be excruciatingly long. he’ll make you cum multiple times before he takes care of himself just because he loves seeing your expression when you finish. but once he cums, there’s not much going to happen after that. baby burns out fast.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he loves ‘em and uses them at any given opportunity. he’s still a bit lazy, but does it really matter when he can just buy something to make you both feel good with minimal effort? after all, he has the money. kenma always has the latest ‘gadgets’; in fact, there’s an entire box of toys in his closet. his favorite would have to be the app-controlled vibrator—he loves using it on you as much as he loves you using it on him.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

as much as he likes making you cum, he likes seeing your face and hearing your noises more. so yes, he’s a teaser. he just loves how receptive you get when you’re begging him to touch you more, to fuck you faster, that he can’t help but drag things out longer than necessary. it’s really your fault that he does it, at least, that’s what he tells you.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

loud, loud, LOUD. kenma whimpers and his moans usually get higher-pitched the closer he gets to his orgasm. when he’s busy focusing with you, though, all that’s pouring out of his mouth is absolute filth, talking about how sexy you look and how good you’re taking him. might degrade you here and there when he sees how easy it is for you to finish with him just using his fingers—he can’t help it.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he has the money and the inability to take life too seriously, so yeah, he’s ordered a silicone mold of your genitalia, whether its your pussy or your cock. its embarrassingly useful when he goes on business trips and its the one thing he never forgets to pack (he forgot his passport once but you bet he had his custom sex toy tucked safely in his luggage like the crazy bastard he is). got you a dildo in the shape of his dick for your birthday so he wouldn’t feel as weird about it.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

six and a half inches, slight curve to the left, and for lack of a better word, pretty. it sits prettily in your palm, has a pretty pink shade on the tip, and overall always leaves you satisfied. for what he can’t do with his cock, he has plenty of toys to compensate anyway.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he was pretty conservative about it at first, but once you gave him a taste of his desires and some of your own, he was hooked. what started as taking out his frustrations after a particular bad game became compounded with rewards after a particularly good game, and now he thinks of sex as a good luck charm before he even turns on his pc. so yeah, you got a pretty needy guy on your hands.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s out almost immediately. he puts a lot of effort into fucking you well, and i mean, he doesn’t have the best stamina despite years of volleyball. basically the pleasure goes straight into his brain, electrifies his nerves for a solid couple hours, and then the moment he cums it all just shuts down. if you make him drink some monster you’ll probably be able to fix the circuit board and get him started up again.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #hq smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma #inky.500 #inky.responds #kinky.inky

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nikibogwater · 3 years

Text

The Final Becoming--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction: Chapter Eleven (The End)

A gentle king, a warrior queen, a clever prince, and a Master Wizard. Together with their allies, these four heroes must reform the ancient kingdom of Camelot and rise up to face the Arcane Order in a decisive final battle for the fate of everything they hold dear.

An alternate take on the series ending for those for whom Rise of the Titans didn't quite make the cut.

(Link to Chapter Ten)

Read on Ao3

Or in the post below:

“Hey, Jimbo.”

“Hey, Tobes.” Jim’s voice shook a little as he greeted his friend. Toby was propped up against a mountain of pillows in his hospital bed, his eyes so, so weary, even as he gave Jim one of his trademark grins. Jim took a deep breath as he sat down in a chair next to the bed, purposefully avoiding looking at Toby’s legs.

“...You can look at ‘em, Jimbo,” Toby said. “They’re still just legs, as far as I know.”

“S-sorry,” Jim stammered. “I didn’t mean to make things....Nevermind. How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Toby admitted. “And sore. Like, really sore. Like I just got hit by a freight train filled with Diablo Maximuses.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “But y’know, I guess it could be worse. What about you? Been overrun by the paparazzi yet? I’ve been watching the news--that’s about the only thing they have on tv here. People are talking about everything that went down. Looks like magic’s not so much of a secret anymore. Douxie’s already been swarmed by people asking about wizards, and folks here in Arcadia are bound to think the Trollhunters had something to do with it.”

“I think there’s been some news people lurking around our neighborhood, but Mom and Strickler have been chasing them off any time they get too close to our yard. Councilwoman Nuñez wants to give all of us medals of heroism from the city, but I told her I didn’t want to celebrate anything until after you were better.”

“That’s....gonna take a while, Jim,” Toby sighed. “Even though my legs are never going to work right again, there’s still a buttload of physical therapy and stuff that they say I have to do. Kind of a pain, really, but Nana’s threatened to hit me with her feather duster if I don’t do everything the nice doctors tell me to.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually. Nari healed Douxie after Bellroc hurt him, right? Couldn’t she--”

“Nope,” Toby interrupted sadly. “I asked Douxie about magic healing once--wanted to know if Nari could regrow some of my Nana’s teeth. He said magic can’t erase what happened, it just kinda speeds up and smooths out the healing process. For something that could never fully heal on its own, magic can’t do very much. Well, not unless you’re okay with being like whatever the Green Knight was.”

“...Oh,” Jim said softly. There was a long, heavy silence. “...You shouldn’t have done that, Tobes,” he whispered. “Bellroc was aiming for me, I should be the one who--OW!” Jim’s hand flew to the shoulder that Toby had just punched. “Geez, what the heck was that for?!”

“‘Cause you keep bein’ a dingus, that’s what!” Toby retorted. “Look, you may be the guy with the fancy armor and the magical sword and the self-sacrifice complex, but you know when it comes to raw tanking power, the only way you ever outmatched me was when you were a half-troll. Well, you don’t have stone for skin anymore--which yeah, that’s great for tanning and beach parties, but that blast would’ve flat-out killed you. I don’t like these broken legs any more than you do, but I’d rather never walk again than have to bury my best bud. And don’t pretend like you would’ve done any differently if you’d been in my place.”

“Okay, fine, I get it!” Jim huffed, rubbing his sore shoulder. He deflated a moment later with a weak laugh. “...Gods, between you and Claire, I can never get away with anything stupid.” He gave his friend a wan smile. “I’m sorry....I’m just so tired of seeing my friends get hurt.”

“That’s okay, Jimbo,” Toby replied. “Comes with the job, I guess.”

“Seriously, though. Are you....doing okay?”

Toby hesitated, then heaved a long sigh. “...I mean, I was pretty scared at first,” he began softly. “I started crying when the doctor was telling me about all the stuff that I have to deal with now. I’m kind of embarrassed about that now.”

“You don’t need to be,” Jim chided gently.

“Well, anyways, it was just a lot at first. And I mean, it still is a lot. But my Nana... You know she’s had to use a walker for as long as I can remember--not really the same as what’s happened to me, but sorta similar. She was telling me about how you can work around it. You just have to change the way you’d normally think about getting stuff done. You get used to looking for access ramps and bars and things. She said you’re never as stuck as you might think, that there’s always another way to get to where you wanna go and do what you want. You just have to be open to finding and taking it. And maybe asking for help if you need it.”

“...Wow,” Jim breathed. “...Gee, I never thought your Nana could be so...uh...”

“I mean, I’m sort of paraphrasing--and leaving out the part where she told a story about a lost cat and an apple pie that didn’t really have anything to do with what’s happening to me--but yeah. It helped. I’m... I’m still really scared, though. There’s so much stuff I gotta figure out now, and like, what I can’t? What if...” He trailed off, hands clenching around the blanket over his lap.

“You will, Tobes,” Jim assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you will. And if you do get stuck, then we can figure it out together. Just like we always have. I promise.”

“Thanks, Jimbo,” Toby replied softly, giving the hand on his shoulder a little pat. He looked down at his legs, brow furrowing sadly. “I....I don’t think I can be a Trollhunter anymore. I know Nana said I can still do whatever I want, but I think that one’s definitely off the table for now.”

“...Being a Trollhunter isn’t about running, and fighting, and swinging a weapon,” Jim said slowly. “I used to think it was, but....if you think about it, anyone can do those things, and they don’t need a magic amulet to pick them for it. Being a Trollhunter is about shouldering a burden for others--putting yourself in harm’s way to keep it from finding someone else.” He took his new amulet out of his pocket and ran his thumb over the surface, tracing the incantation engraved around the edge. “Tobes, when we found that amulet three years ago, you shouldered the burden right along with me. Didn’t even think twice about it, even though you weren’t the one the amulet chose. And you did it just because you cared, not because there was anything in it for you. You could have left that first night Bular tried to kill us, but you didn’t. You stayed with me, and held me up beneath a weight I never could have carried by myself. I may have been the one with the amulet, but you’ve always been the real Trollhunter. And you always will be.”

“H-hey,” Toby sniffled, giving a weak laugh. “C’mon Jim, I told you I don’t wanna cry!”

“Sorry. Guess that was kinda cheesy,” Jim chuckled. “But I meant it. I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Toby. And no matter what happens next, I’m going to stick with you, and help you carry your burden for a change.”

“W-well then,” Toby began, clearing his throat awkwardly. “you can start by bringing me some real food. All those jokes about hospital food? Yeah, turns out, they’re not jokes. It’s actually that bad.”

“You got it, Tobes. Anything you want, Jim’s Catering Services has got you covered. Always.”

“Toby!”

Jim winced as Darci’s screech pierced the once-peaceful stillness of Toby’s hospital room. The girl offered no apologies for her loudness. In fact, she didn’t even seem to notice him as he hurried to get out of her way, and instead fell all over her boyfriend, crying, scolding, and praising as she hugged him.

“Hey, Darc,” Toby said softly, sighing contentedly into her shoulder. She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes wet.

“Is it true? What they said...You can’t...?”

“...Dead as a doornail,” Toby joked half-heartedly, gesturing to his legs. “But they say I’ll still be able to get around okay in a wheelchair, once I’m fully recovered. Y’know...I-if you wanted to go somewhere...” He faltered ever so slightly with an uncharacteristic nervousness, and with a jolt in his stomach, Jim realized that he must have been worried about what this new condition could mean for his relationship with Darci.

“What about Benoit’s?” Darci suggested brightly. “They just reopened in a new location--I still haven’t tried their duck confit yet. Oh, and then we can go see the Gun Robot movie! The reviews say it’s really good.”

“Yeah,” Toby breathed, face relaxing into a grin. “That sounds great, Darc. Um...Might be a few weeks before I can go, though.”

“I can wait,” she assured him. She pulled him in for another hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Toby met Jim’s eyes over her shoulder and gave him a wide smile and a thumbs-up. Jim returned the gesture.

Claire was right. Nothing would ever be the same again, but they could still forge a new path to the future, one step at a time.

After all, the Trollhunters always finished the fight--together. No matter what.

*****

One Year Later:

Destiny is a gift.

“Douxie, I have seen human dwellings before,” Nari said, clinging to Douxie’s arm and carefully feeling her way over the gravel pathway he was leading her down.

“But you haven’t seen one like this!” Douxie insisted. “Look, just keep your eyes closed as a favor for me, yeah?” He stopped and lifted her over a fallen beam. “...Looks like the crew left a few things behind,” he muttered. “Oh well.”

“Crew? Douxie, what are you--”

“Alright, open ‘em!” he exclaimed. Nari did as he instructed, blinking against the light for a moment before her eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp.

Standing before them was a small cabin-style house, sitting cozily at the top of a wooded hillside. It had a wide, grassy yard in front, overgrown with wildflowers, and a gravel driveway that snaked down the hill and joined up with a neighborhood road at the bottom. The cabin was placed at the very edge of Arcadia Oaks city limits, and the woods at its back stretched on for miles, before eventually thinning out at the base of the mountains in the distance. The building was fairly simple-looking, with a large covered porch in front, and an oddly-shaped stone chimney peaking out of the side. There was also an unusual platform jutting out of the roof, with rough-hewn railing around the edges and a small telescope perched on top.

“It’s great, right?!” Douxie enthused. “During the awards ceremony a few months back, Councilwoman Nuñez asked me if there was anything the city could do for us--they’d already given Jim and Claire and Toby scholarships, but she said they were at a loss when it came to us. I told her I was looking for a more permanent residence--something we could use as a home base when we’re not traveling for our wizarding work. Obviously the apartment in town has been better than what we had back in New York, but still not quite big enough for all three of us, especially if we end up needing to house a magical artifact or two.”

“I beg your pardon, I hardly take up any room at all,” Archie huffed from his perch on top of Douxie’s shoulder. Douxie ignored him and continued.

“Mrs. Nuñez started looking at city-owned lots straightaway, and when I told her what I was looking for, she showed me this place. The cabin was an absolute mess--gods, I don’t think I’ve seen a sorrier-looking building in my life--but Jim called up his Troll mates in New Jersey and a whole crew of them got straight to work in fixing it up. It’s a little rough-looking in places still, but it’s as solid as you could want, and they even dropped a few spells on the appliances to make them last longer! Best of all, the city is giving it to us--all I have to worry about is paying the electric and water bills. We can live here for as long as we want, and never have to pay a single rent!” He seemed positively giddy with excitement as he pulled a speechless Nari up to the porch and in through the front door.

“Living room,” he said brusquely, scarcely giving her any time to look at it before steering her down the hall. “Water closet at the end there, and--” He opened a door with a dramatic flourish. “Your chambers, my lady!”

Nari’s breath caught in her throat. The room was flooded with sunshine from the enormous bay window at the back. Douxie had already taken the liberty of setting up a few potted plants on the sills, and there was a small, carved wood bed frame just beneath the window. “A gift from the Quagawumps,” Douxie explained when he saw Nari’s eyes land on it. “I’ve never met them, but they were quite eager to help Jim out, so he went ahead and commissioned that piece just to give them something to do. The windows open out as well, so you can get plenty of fresh air. And with this much space, you won’t have to be rubbing elbows with me and Arch all the time. No more tripping over my dirty laundry, eh? And those woods behind us are completely wild--it’s a no-hunting zone, so no one ever really goes in there. You can have the run of the whole valley!” He paused.“...So, what do you think?” Nari’s eyes moved slowly around the room, drinking in every little detail--the sage green wallpaper, the dark oak floors, the dust swirling in the sunlight. Finally, she looked back at Douxie, eyes shining like miniature suns.

“...It is perfect,” she breathed.

“Well, there you have it,” Archie said, leaping down from Douxie’s shoulders and stretching out in the patch of sunlight on the floor. “Our first real house. Only took us nine-hundred years. Now let’s never move again.”

“I’ll do my best, Arch,” Douxie laughed.

*****

Some go their entire lives, living existences of quiet desperation...

“...No, the ionic conversion chamber is supposed to go there, Krel,” Zoe insisted, pointing with her wand.

“But it would be more energy-efficient to put it closer to the neogenic processor!”

“For the machine, maybe, not for the poor witch or wizard who has to power it with their own magic! Just put it where I told you.”

“Wait, if we put an Akiridion wavelength enhancer array here, we could reduce the amount of--” His suggestion was cut off by the buzzing of his phone nearby. “Kleb.” He snatched it up off the desk and answered without checking the caller’s ID. “DJ Kleb speaking, you’d better make this quick, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Krel, where are you?” Eli said on the other end. “The meeting’s supposed to start in like, two minutes!”

“What? No, that’s not happening for another... Zoe, time, please.”

“Two twenty-eight,” the hedge-witch replied around the wand between her teeth, as she fiddled with a few loose wires in their creation.

“KLEB!” Krel yelped again. “Ai, Seklos and Gaylen...! Eli, stall for me, I will be right there!” He hung up and scrambled for HexTech’s newly-installed wormhole generator. “Try integrating a Tyturian Splicer into the enhancer array,” he suggested hurriedly as he punched the coordinates into the machine. “It will reduce the amount of nanoplasmic emissions.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Zoe replied, flapping a hand at him. “Enjoy the meeting. Tell Doux I said hi.”

...Never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders, is actually a sense of purpose lifting us to greater heights.

The Akiridion Roundtable was abuzz with the usual pre-meeting chatter, as humans, Trolls, Akiridions, and a few other species took their seats. Stuart was busily handing out the clip-on Neurofrequency Translators that Krel had developed to get around any language barriers such a gathering might involve. Toby was arm-wrestling with a Foo-Foo as Darci and Eli called out bets on who would win. Mary was taking selfies with Zadra and Claire. Vex was comparing biceps with Aaarrrgghh. Aja felt her core swelling with pride as she gazed upon their coalition. It was everything she could have hoped for.

Or, at least it was everything she could have hoped for once Krel had toppled into his seat next to her, breathless and embarrassed.

“You are late, Little Brother,” she informed him lightly. “Varvatos was just about to go hunt you down.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was in the middle of some very important scientific discovery work.”

“Now, now, Krel,” Nana put in as she waddled past him on the way to her seat. “You can’t be a proper gentleman without punctuality!”

“Indeed,” Varvatos agreed, pulling her chair out for her. “Timing is key in both affairs of war and of love!”

“Where is Jim?” Krel asked over the sound of Aja’s snickering.

“He couldn’t make it,” Toby supplied. He slammed the Foo-Foo’s arm down on the table with a resounding thud. Darci cackled as Eli begrudgingly handed her a wad of cash. “He’s swamped with helping his mom get ready for the wedding. I’ll be taking any questions meant for him. Also Krel, when you have a sec, the antigrav on my chair has been real finicky today. Sometimes it activates when I don’t need it to, and other times it just does this weird little sputtery thing and won’t actually lift the chair.”

“I will take a look at it after the meeting. Likely just a loose plasma coil. Have you tried the new rocket boosters yet?”

“He’s not allowed to use those,” Darci interjected.

“Oh come on, I ran into a wall one time, Darc!” Toby whined.

“You almost broke your neck! And also smashed my dad’s squad car. Again.”

“...Okay, two times,” he grumbled. “Still don’t think that’s enough to ground me over.”

“Alright, dweebs, listen up!” Everyone scrambled to take their places as Steve swaggered into the room. He leaned Toothache against the table and slammed his palms down on the surface.

“Steve, watch out for the holographic projectors!” Eli yelped.

“Oh. Uh, sorry, dude.” He took his hands off the table sheepishly. “A-anyways, welcome back to our Roundtable of Awesome Warriors. Lake’s a no-show this month, and Douxie’s gonna be joining us via com...com...Something Krel’s in charge of, so I don’t care.”

“Transpatial nanowave visual communicator.”

“Get over yourself bro, it’s just intergalactic facetime. Anyways, looks like everybody’s here who’s supposed to be, so let’s all shut up and listen to our Ninja-Kicking Queen.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Aja rose from her seat, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she stood beside him. “Reports for this parcon show that the interplanetary alliances have remained stable and flourishing. And thanks to Mary’s influencer status on Earth, we have received forty-three new applications from aspiring squires.”

“What’s up, Wang Gang?” Mary trilled at her phone. “It’s ya girl, comin’ at you live from this, our eighth official Roundtable Meeting! Remember, if you donate during the livestream, you’ll earn exclusive membership perks on my channel! Donate now, and help us defend our planet!”

“Mary, you really need to come up with a better name for your fans...” Darci groaned.

“Speaking of new members,” Aja continued. “I am very happy to announce that Shannon Longhannon has joined us as a knight of the Roundtable. She will be working with Captain Izita to establish a new currency-exchange system for our planets.” Shannon gave a shy little wave as all eyes focused on her for a moment.

“Honors math student, and majoring in economics,” she said. “I uh, also have some contacts in the black market if we ever need those.”

“Lively!” Aja enthused. “I wonder what other color markets there are? Do they sell different things based on their color? Maybe we could establish a blue market here on Akiridion V!”

“Perhaps we focus on one task at a time, my queen,” Zadra advised. “For now, I believe we are scheduled to hear a brief report from Master Wizard Casperan regarding the state of the magic community on Earth. Could someone bring up Casperan’s feed?”

Krel opened the communication feed, bringing up a large, holographic image of one very flustered-looking Hisirdoux Casperan over the center of the table.

“Greetings, Knights of the Roundtable. Apologies that I couldn’t be there in person, but it seems someone left a few Gnomes behind during the construction of my new house--” (Aaarrrgghh shifted sheepishly). “--and we’ve been... Put that down, you little--!” He disappeared off-camera, and the room echoed with staticky bumps, thuds, and tiny shrieks for a moment.

“...Teach? You good?” Claire called.

“Er, perhaps I could give my presentation a bit later?” he suggested, popping back into view with a struggling Gnome clutched in his hands. “Really not too much to say--the magical community at large continues to adapt to life in the open, with many witches and wizards working closely alongside mortal authorities to--No, no, do not eat that! Nari, help!”

“Ah, this brings back some fun memories,” Toby smirked, leaning back in his wheelchair. “Where’s the Gnomehunter when you need him, am I right?” His chair gave a whining sputter and lifted six inches off the ground. “Woah, hey! Settle down, I didn’t tell you to do that!”

“And you were mad at me for being late for this,” Krel grumbled.

“All things considered, this is a much smoother start than usual,” Aja said brightly, as Eli and Darci struggled to pull Toby back down to the ground. “I think we will have a good meeting today!”

“Heck yeah!” Steve chimed in. “We can just replace Dumbledork’s report with a round of curls. Everybody grab some weights!”

A chorus of long-suffering groans swept over the Knights of the Roundtable.

*****

Never forget that fear is but the precursor of valor, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero.

Jim almost didn’t recognize his own back yard.

It looked like something straight out of a dream. Fairy lights twinkled alongside hanging crystals strung along the eaves of the house. Enormous blossoms covered the once-patchy lawn, glowing with a gentle, ethereal warmth. The tables he had helped set up earlier were now practically sagging beneath the weight of dozens of dishes. It was a good thing he’d thought to take a photo of the six-layer wedding cake he’d baked--the entire thing had disappeared in a matter of minutes, as soon as Barbara and Strickler finished cutting it. Their plans for a small, intimate gathering had been somewhat undermined, as Trolls, Changelings, Gnomes, and even a few creatures Jim didn’t recognize all showed up at some point to offer their gifts and congratulations to the Trollhunter’s family. But the happy couple didn’t seem to mind. Jim had even caught Strickler surreptitiously wiping his eyes a few times throughout the celebration.

And his mother--gods, his mother.

She was radiant, practically glowing in her simple white sundress. She looked like the happiest woman in the world, and Jim couldn’t think of a more beautiful sight. His heart swelled every time he saw her smiling and laughing, arm-in-arm with her new husband as she unwrapped gifts and chatted with the guests. He hoped she would always look this way. He could think of no one who deserved it more.

“Hey, did you hear Sally’s pregnant?” Toby began as he rolled up beside Jim. “I have no idea how that works, and I don’t want to know, but Chompsky says they’re naming the kid after me. I’m gonna be a godfather to an actual pecan.”

“Congrats,” Jim laughed. “That’s a lot of responsibility. Think you can handle it?”

“Psh. Of course! Who do you think you’re talking to, Jimbo?”

“Look, all I’m saying is you’ve crushed enough Nougat Nummies in your back pocket that accidentally murdering one of Chompsky’s kids is not that remote of a possibility.”

“I’ll just get him a new one from the fridge,” Toby said, waving his hand dismissively. “He won’t even know the difference.”

“I hope not. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if he does.” The two friends settled into a companionable silence for a few moments. “...Kinda weird to think we’re here now,” Jim mused. “If I could go back and tell my past self that this is where we’d end up, no way on earth would he believe me.”

“Past Jim would shank you for even lightly suggesting that Strickler might be your step-dad someday.”

“Even beyond that, though,” Jim continued. “Sometimes I remember how scared I was during those first few months. How absolutely crazy all of it was. To think we’d end up here, at my mom’s wedding, with trolls and aliens and wizards all hanging out like this... It’s wild.”

“Yeah. It is,” Toby agreed. “...So what do you think you’ll do next? I mean, obviously you’ve still got to keep an eye on things as the Trollhunter, but without any more big baddies to fight, we’ve all had a lot more free time on our hands. Any big secret ambitions you haven’t told me about?”

“Nothing big or secret, no. But I’ve sort of been thinking about trying culinary school. With the scholarships the city gave us, I can have my pick of any place I want. There’s a good one just a few towns over that I’ve had my eye on. Claire’s been talking about auditioning for Arcadia Drama Institute’s yearly production, too. What about you? Got any plans for the summer?”

“Ah. Yeah. About that...” Toby shifted uncomfortably. “Darc and I volunteered for the Roundtable Education Initiative. Starting in June, we’re gonna be traveling the world for a few months, giving talks on Troll history and etiquette and helping people get used to their new neighbors. Well, old neighbors, I guess, but now that they finally know Trolls exist, they ought to get to know them better.”

“Tobes, that’s....Th-that’s great!” Jim faltered.

“Yeah. It is. I’m just....really gonna miss you guys while I’m gone. And Arcadia Oaks. I’ve never been away from home for that long before. Honestly if Darci and Aaarrrgghh weren’t going, I don’t think I could do it.”

“You’re going to do great, Tobes.” Jim put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “And I’ll be here waiting with tacos when you get back.”

“You know I’m gonna hold you to that,” Toby answered with a grin.

“Toe-bees!” Enrique had wandered over at some point, accompanied by his older sister, and was now slapping his hands against the side of Toby’s chair impatiently.

“Heya, kiddo. ...What? Again? Okay, okay, fine. But this is actually the last time, got it?” Toby hefted the eager toddler up into the chair with one arm and activated the now-repaired antigrav. Enrique squealed with delight as the chair bounced into the air, hovering a few inches off of the ground.

“Zoom! Zoom!”

“No rocket boosters!” Claire called after them as they took off for a lap around the yard. The only response she got was a high-pitched shriek of joy from Enrique. She sighed and shook her head fondly, before leaning against Jim. He wrapped his arm around her with a contented hum.

“That cake was to die for,” she said, playfully poking him in the ribs. “My compliments to the chef.”

“Thanks. The thing practically took a week to make.” They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of it all. Aja was fawning over Nari and Archie, fascinated by the wood nymph’s antlers and the Familiar’s shapeshifting abilities. Toby was zipping in and out of the crowd with a giggling Enrique on his lap. Darci was deep in conversation with Steve about a new idea for the Roundtable. Blinky was regaling Barbara and Strickler with an elaborate description of Troll union ceremonies. Krel was at the DJ table, trying to ward off Eli and his rather bizarre suggestions for the next song. Douxie and Zoe were on the dance floor, putting all the other dancers to shame. Jim found himself beginning to sway gently in time to the music.

“...I think,” he began slowly. “When I get married....I want to have a wedding just like this.”

“Yeah?” Claire looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

“...Me too,” she whispered.

Don’t think.

Become.

The End.

A/N: So I have....no idea how this got written. I usually can't keep up with longer stories like this, and I definitely never thought that this would be how I would spend the latter half of my 2021. But this project has been an absolute joy to work on, in no small part thanks to all of you guys. The support and enthusiasm I've received for this story was more than I ever could have hoped for, and I'm extremely grateful for everyone who has taken the time to read this. A very extra-special thanks goes, as always, to @poetryinmotion-author, who helped brainstorm, plan, and edit this whole thing. This final chapter in particular is dedicated to her.

Until next time, stay safe, and thank you all so much for reading. ✨

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12

TW: None

Words Count: 1.4k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 13

The air is tense that morning. Your brows furrow, thinking that you have to share the ride with Jimin now that everyone knows he’s your husband. Nearing the car, you notice there’s unfamiliar face among Jimin’s security. He usually has two with him, one is his bodyguard and the other being his bodyguard as well as his driver. You never really get the chance to know them apart from their name, considering you’ve never shared the ride with your husband.

He doesn’t say anything through the ride, his eyes glued to his tab, no doubt reading the morning news. You stare outside through the window, lost in your own thoughts.

Once you reach the company, you stand behind your husband but Jimin looks back and grabs your hand in his, startling you. It takes you a moment to process everything but not long for you to realise it’s just for show yet you can’t help having fluttered heart, walking hand in hand in public with your husband for the first time.

Reaching your desk, Irene simply watches the two of you as he speaks several things to Mina who’s at the desk as well, but haven’t yet let go of your hand.

He turns to you then and you stiffen immediately. “See you at lunch.” He says, way too soft and you feel like punching him for how he’s making you feel. His thumb and index finger cups your jaw briefly and gently before he leaves for his room.

It’s just a show, you tell yourself.

Another cons of all this travesty, is that Irene is handing you a lot of things that require you to personally see Jimin. She seems keen to let you handle him entirely.

“What do you think about this?” Jimin’s voice echoes in the whole room.

Huh? You look at him, puzzled. Is he really asking for your opinion? “I- I don’t really know all about- umm, maybe you should ask-“

“If I need a professional’s advice I would’ve asked Jinyoung. Besides, you sat through the meeting with me as well. I need your opinion.” Jimin says firmly.

You look at him hesitantly. You honestly have no idea about business world. But since this relates slightly about art, which you might know an inkling about, you answer him. “I think it’s good if you accept Wangji Co to handle the cover. They’ve been in the industry for long yet they always have fresh ideas. Apart from that, you can ensure you have a good term with Taiwan since you have their company involved.”

He remains silent for a moment, staring at you so deeply you silently pray you’re not flushing. Then he nods. “We will be meeting one of the arts director in charge. You will accompany me.” He glances at the watch. “I’ll be done in 10 minutes.”

He simply says and you take it as a sign you’re dismissed.

You take one last look in the mirror. This is your first time going out in public with your husband. Although it is work related, you’re still nerved out. You’ve never accompanied him to any event. Irene apparently never does too. Sure enough. When you google your husband, he never seems to have pictures taken with other women.

When you head downstairs, you feel your heart skips a beat when you see your husband, dressed smartly in impeccable black suit. His ash grey hair had been styled and he looks so good looking you almost want to cry.

Jimin on the other hand though, has his brows furrowed and lips pursed when he takes in your appearance.

“What on earth are you wearing?” He asks once you’re close enough.

You gulp. You’ve searched through every dress in the huge closet in the limited time Jimin gave you and this was the most modest dress you could find. You’re wearing a long dress that has a huge slit in front from your thigh to bottom. Luckily, the slit is not high enough to reveal scars you have on your upper thigh. To make it worse, the dress has such huge cleavage opening space, you’ve tried bringing your long hair to front in an attempt to cover your cleavage as much as you can. “I- I’m only wearing what’s in the closet.”

He tongues his cheek and you swear he looks so hot. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Lee about your wardrobe,” is all he says before you’re ushered into his car.

Even by looking at his side profile, Jimin looks so stunning you can’t help but stare in awe.

“Take a picture, I think that’ll last longer.” He snaps and you look away immediately. How does he even know without even looking at you, you shake your head.

It’s a launching event as well as exhibition by the director Jimin’s supposed to meet, Mr. Choi.

He speaks with several people and you just obediently follow after him, taking notes of who they are. A while later, you feel the urge to pee but you decided to wait until the main launching event is done before excusing yourself to the washroom.

As soon as you’re done, your eyes seek your husband immediately between the rows of art and crowds of people. As you make your way through the hallway, you find yourself drawn to an art hung on the wall, illuminated with a warm light above it, further enunciating its creativity.

It’s a woman, alone and she’s sitting down hugging her knees.

Something tugs your heart and the more you stare at the painting, the more you feel your eyes are watery.

“It’s called the Isle of Sorrow.” A voice beside you says, making you jump. You turn to see Jimin, his eyes towards the painting in front the both of you.

“They say she lost her will to love again that’s why she’s wallowing in sorrow.”

“It could also be she’s unable to love the person she desires.” You hesitate but continue to say when Jimin remains silent. “The painter.. I think he’s potraying contradiction. She’s in sadness and the background should’ve highlighted that as well, maybe monochrome settings? Yet the brushes are bold and the colors the painter chose are strong. Her love.. is strong. But she can’t give it to the other person. Perhaps because she loves someone who she shouldn’t, like an irony the life is.” You finish. Seconds later, your eyes widen and you bit your lip. What on earth did you just say?

A heavy silence sets between the two of you in the midst of casual conversations and regular laughter heard in the hall.

“Didn’t know you’re into art.” He says after several moments.

You only smile sadly. You don’t know a lot of things about me.

“I think art’s fascinating. I like when I can have control on it. What it can become. How it turns out. I don’t have a lot of it, growing up.” You say softly.

Jimin looks at you. “A lot of what?”

Your eyes find him too and you both lock gazes briefly. “Chance to change things.”

He holds your gaze steady before you look down first. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to hold his gaze for a long time, it’s hard enough to breathe as it is with him around.

“Me too.” He says quietly and you slowly look at him again. You notice his eyes has sorrow in it too, like the ones reflected in the painting before you. “I’ve always had to live the path set for me. Kinda funny, cause I’ve never been close to my parents but they expect me to receive everything blindly. There’s always pressure on my shoulder and I can never let myself fail,” he laughs as if mocking himself. “The moment I show my weakness, everyone flocks around me to take what I have. And anyone close to me can easily turn away from me.”

You stare at him as his expression hardens. You have to say something to comfort him. “Jimin.. I.. I would never.. do that.. to you.”

He looks at you then. Eyes pierced into yours. “You will. Once you know the reason behind this marriage. You’ll hate me too.”

You don’t know what to say to that but the coldness behind his words make shivers run down your spine making you shudder.

Jimin draws his breath before he shrugs his coat out of him. He then pulls you towards him, making you gasp. “It’s okay, you don’t have to-“ you start when he put his coat around your bare shoulder.

“Just stay still.” He says.

His hands are in front of you, fixing his coat snd dangerously close to your breast. You look up and there’s no mistaking his eyes that roam over your curves so you awkwardly struggle to look anywhere else.

He’s your own husband for god’s sake.. why do you have to feel so shy?

A/N: So I actually ended up posting this chapter as scheduled 😂 there’s a sudden surge of things to be done this weekend and it was pretty hectic 🥺 I’m sorry guys I’m a mere human I hope you guys aren’t mad 🥺

Oh and i’m not really the most knowledgeable about art, but art is subjective and it all depends on how one intepret so yeah 😂

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter I thought it ended in a pretty cute way hehehehe

Link to Chapter 13 Posted on 210426 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

wish i were

summary: Emily’s back where she belongs, but she’s learning that you can’t come back from the dead the same as you were before. Spencer’s reeling from betrayal and broken trust. Then there’s you—their safe port in the storm. But you’re not okay either, and you have a choice to make.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, bittersweet ending

a/n: it’s finally here. thank you all for your patience. i wasn’t planning on posting angst and unrequited love on valentine’s day, but i don’t want to wait another day to post this; i’m kinda sick of looking at it tbh. anyways, i hope you enjoy it and it lives up to your expectations. sorry it’s so long. apparently i have a lot to say.

word count: 8.7k

series masterlist || masterlist

Ten weeks ago.

“Absolutely not,” Emily croaks out. Her voice is rough and broken from the breathing tube, and it hurts her throat to speak, but she ignores it. “No. I won’t do it.”

She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. She’s only been awake for a few hours and she’s already fed up with the bullshit the world is throwing at her. Right now, it’s in the form of her boss asking her to fake her own death. “You can’t seriously think this is an acceptable solution.”

Hotch is unreadable, his unit chief face firmly in place. “It’s for your own safety.”

Emily scoffs, then immediately winces at the pain that shoots through her midsection. But she continues. “So put me in a safe house or something. I’m not making my friends bury me.”

“It’s for their safety as well,” he replies. “Doyle’s still out there. He’s targeted them before. You know he’ll do it again to get to you if he finds out you’re alive.”

“Then let them in on this,” she argues. “They can keep a secret.”

His expression slips—just a little bit, but she sees it. It’s hesitance.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” she asks, a feeling of dread settling over her. “I want to see her. I’m not making a decision like this without her.”

Hotch folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not your decision to make, Emily,” he says quietly. “It’s already done.”

Her breath catches in her throat. She looks him up and down, searching desperately for any sign that he’s lying, that this is all just some cruel joke, that any second now you’ll be walking through the door, a smile on your face—

There are none.

Her lungs burn and she’s forced to take in a breath. “You son of a bitch,” she whispers. “You... son of a bitch. How dare you? How dare you.”

He doesn’t so much as flinch as her voice increases in volume, which only serves to make her angrier.

“How fucking dare you! You let me see (Y/N) right now, you bastard!”

The door opens—her heart leaps—

It’s JJ, who, if Hotch is to be believed, is the only other one to know about this. JJ hurries to her side and reaches out, but Emily yanks her arm away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarls. “You—” Her eyes land on the water pitcher on the table in front of her and she lunges forward, the searing pain it causes barely registering. She seizes it and throws it with all the force she can muster.

Hotch doesn’t move out of the way, letting it hit his chest and soak the front of his clothing. Its accompanying cup follows, then the TV remote. It’s not until she grabs the vase of flowers that he ducks out of the way. The glass shatters on the floor. All the while, she’s screaming obscenities at him.

JJ tries in vain to calm her down, holding up her hands placatingly. “Emily, please—”

“Don’t talk to me!” she yells. “You have the audacity to come in here and speak to me when you know I’m alive and my girlfriend doesn’t!”

“Emily!” Her voice is stern. “I understand you’re upset—”

“Don’t use your fucking mom voice on me, Jennifer, I’m not a fucking child—”

“What’s going on in here?” A pair of nurses enter the room, no doubt drawn by the commotion.

“She’s bleeding,” JJ answers immediately. “I think she might have aggravated something when she sat up.”

“She’s not supposed to be sitting up at all. What did you two do?” one of the nurses scolds.

“She just got some bad news—”

“Well, isn’t that a nice way to put it!” The nurses are trying to coax her into laying back down, but Emily resists it. “A really great way to describe the two of you trying to force me into letting my family and girlfriend think I’m dead!”

“I think some of the stitches tore,” the second nurse says.

“Go get the doctor,” the first one instructs an orderly standing in the doorway.

Movement catches Emily’s eye and she looks towards it to see Hotch taking a step backwards.

“Don’t you dare leave!” she screams. “I’m not done with you, you motherf—”

“Agent, please, you need to lie back.”

“And you two need to leave,” the older of the nurses says.

Then there’s a third person at her side. Judging by the white coat, it’s the doctor. “What’s the problem?” he asks them.

“She’s agitated and we think some stitches might have burst.”

“Damn right I’m agitated!” Emily cries. “They’re trying to—I—” She looks past the doctor to find that JJ and Hotch are gone.

“Emily, we’re going to give you something to help you relax,” he tells her.

Her vision goes blurry and she can’t figure out why until she feels the tears sliding down her cheeks. She lets the nurses push her back now and her head thumps against the pillow. “Please—” she chokes on a sob. “Please, I want to see my girlfriend.”

“What’s her name?” the doctor asks kindly.

“(Y/N). We’ve been together for almost a year. I need…” Her limbs are starting to feel heavy. “I need to call her, or—or something. She thinks… she thinks….”

“Shh, you’re okay,” one of the nurses soothes. “You’re going to be okay.”

Emily blinks slowly and shakes her head. “But she won’t be. She…”

The world fades to black.

---

There are tear stains on your pillowcase.

That’s the first thing Emily notices when she walks into your bedroom. She recognizes them so quickly because similar ones were on her pillows in Paris.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to run the sheets through the wash,” you say when you notice her looking.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” She sets her bag on the bedside table, careful to jostle Sergio as little as possible. He’s in her arms, pressed against her chest and purring loudly. He definitely remembers her—she’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t.

Emily is absolutely exhausted. It has been a very long day. Doyle is dead, Declan is safe, and now all she wants to do is take a nice, hot shower and curl up in bed with you. But you haven’t been able to keep eye contact with her for more than a few moments at a time.

She expected something like this to happen. She knew once the relief of seeing her alive wore off, there was going to be a heap of more, uglier emotions surfacing.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

You glance up at her just briefly, busying yourself with stripping off the pillowcases and replacing them with a clean set. “I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you sigh. “I just… I don’t.”

She strokes Sergio’s back a couple of times to calm herself before replying. “You can say anything. You’ve been through so much, and I… I’m not going to hold what you’re feeling against you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”

It confirms her suspicions. “(Y/N), you’re allowed to be mad at me,” she says. “Hell, you could even yell at me if you wanted to and I’d be okay with it.”

You snort. “I don’t want to yell at you. But, um, could I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Okay. Well…” You shuffle from one foot to the other. “I’m… not really sure how to ask this, but, how… how did this happen?”

Your voice is hesitant. You’re holding back, but Emily can read between the lines. “You mean, how could I let you think I was dead?” she corrects softly.

You breathe in sharply and wrap your arms around yourself. Your eyes are wet when you look up at her and nod.

Emily tries not to let her next words come out too fast, lest it seem like she’s dismissing your feelings or making excuses. “I didn’t get a choice.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. “When I came to after surgery, the funeral had already been held.”

Your mouth drops open. You stare at her for a few seconds, then blink several times. Your eyes move around, focused on nothing in particular as you try to process what she’s just told you. Eventually, they settle on the bedroom door behind her. “I’m gonna punch his face,” you whisper.

Emily can’t stop the genuine laugh that bubbles out of her. “Yeah, Hotch heard similar things from me.”

“Oh my god, Em,” you breathe out, and her heart skips a beat at the nickname. “That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” she admits. “But at least I knew you were alive and that I’d see you again someday. It can’t come close to what you went through.”

You shake your head. “This isn’t the suffering Olympics. It was harder for you in some ways than it was for me, I’m sure. Like, if I was waking up after being stabbed, I’d want my girlfriend there holding my hand.”

Emily’s eyes prick with tears as she listens to you, remembering how it felt to be at the hospital without you there to hold her hand through all the scary bits. But you? You had buried her, and now you’re here considering how Emily had felt throughout all this. She’s not sure if you’re actively trying to make her fall even more in love with you, but if you are, you’re succeeding.

“I can’t promise to never be mad at you about this,” you continue, “but I’ll take being mad at you for actually being alive rather than being mad at you for dying.”

“That’s… really mature of you,” she observes.

“I started seeing a therapist a few days after the funeral,” you say with a shrug. “Can you put Sergio down and help me change the bed sheets?”

She nods and places him gently on the floor. She’s about to ask why you’re wanting to change them right now, when you’re clearly just as exhausted as she is, when she finds a tie wedged between the top and fitted sheets at the foot of the bed. She frowns as she lifts it up—it’s not one she recognizes as yours or hers, but she does think she’s seen it before.

“Oh, so that’s where that went,” you say.

“I don’t remember you having a tie like this. Is it new?”

“It’s Spencer’s,” you clarify.

“Oh. What… what’s it doing in your bed?” she asks hesitantly.

“He would stay over sometimes when I couldn’t sleep and he’s too long—“ you spread your hands apart “—for either of the couches.”

“I see.” Emily smooths out the wrinkles in the fabric and crosses the room to put it on top of the dresser, trying to tamp down the sting of jealousy. The other side of your bed is supposed to be hers.

“Nothing happened,” you say and she realizes she’s frowning.

“I know,” she replies, and she does—she just wishes it had been her in the bed with you. But you’ve at least given her a good lead-in for her surprise. “Anyways, you wouldn’t have even had the time with the amount of online Scrabble you were playing.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “How do you know about that?”

The corner of her mouth turns up. “I was there for every game, sergio2010.”

It takes you a moment to put it together. “You’re cheetobreath?” you ask. “I thought that was JJ.”

“It was her idea,” Emily says. “And that’s what you were supposed to think.”

Your reaction delights her—you start laughing. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I had to stick it to Hotch somehow,” she defends, barely holding back her own laughter.

You shake your head fondly as you finish tucking in the fresh sheets. Emily helps you spread the comforter back over the bed and return the pillows to their spots. She isn’t sure what to do after that, though, and nervously clasps her hands in front of her. You’re silent for a few seconds, watching her from across the bed.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” you say eventually.

“Um, okay,” she replies. “But you know, I could go stay at a hotel instead if you’d prefer.”

You shake your head. “You’re gonna join me.”

“Ah.” Emily swallows, part nervous, part thrilled. “That’s… I mean, yeah. Okay.”

You hold out your hand in invitation; she circles the bed and takes it.

After, when you’re both clean and settled into bed, she pulls you as close to her as she can. “This is so nice,” you sigh into her skin. “You’re so soft, Em.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Um, thank you?”

“Spencer’s bony,” you explain.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, I know. I fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet a few years ago and it was painful.”

You giggle. “Did you know he talks in his sleep?”

“Morgan’s mentioned it. You learn anything else when you were snuggled up with him?” she teases, running her fingers through your damp hair.

“It wasn’t like that,” you protest. “We didn’t snuggle. I’d just kind of… press my forehead on his arm and one leg against his.” Your voice lowers as you continue, “I just really missed being close to someone.”

“I did, too,” she whispers back. “I wish it had been me, but I’m glad you had him.”

You nod against her in agreement. “I love you, Emily,” you say, briefly tightening your grip on her.

“I love you, too,” she replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “So much.”

You drift off to sleep quickly, and she’s not far behind.

It’s the best sleep she’s had in months.

---

Spencer’s barely heard from you since the hearing last week.

He’d gotten plenty of texts from Jennifer (all of which he ignored), but only a few from you. That’s probably normal for most adult friends, but not for you two, especially so when the fact that you were the only two people not to apply for reinstatement to the BAU is taken into consideration. He thought that he’d be able to seriously talk about it with you, to share his feelings and maybe work it out together. But all he had gotten was a brief message:

Emily was reinstated, so I’m going back, too.

It left him frustrated, but when it came down to it, he understood—he was the same. Since you were going back, so was he.

On Monday morning, everyone’s first day back together, he gets off the elevator and is immediately confronted with the last person he wants to see.

“Hey, where have you been? I wanted to do brunch this weekend,” Jennifer says.

Spencer barely resists rolling his eyes, instead keeping them fixed on the file he’s holding. “I had to deal with some stuff with my mom.” It’s not a lie—he did have to check in with his mom. It just didn’t take as long as he’s implying. “Have you seen Garcia?”

“Uh, she’s with Rossi,” Jennifer answers, and she sounds startled by his behavior, but he doesn’t care. You’re at your desk, and as he passes by, he takes your arm.

“Wha—Spencer?” You’re taken aback, but you let him pull you along and into a file room.

“What?” you repeat when he turns to you after closing the door.

He tucks the file into his bag, the folds his arms over his chest. “I barely heard from you last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Well, yeah, I’ve been busy,” you say. “Emily’s moving in with me so we’ve been taking her things out of storage and to my apartment to unpack.”

Spencer glances away, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy in his chest. Just two weeks ago, he was in your bed and he’s quickly been replaced. And sure, he knows you don’t feel that way about him, but it was easy to pretend you did when you were asleep right next to him. “Not busy enough to make a decision about work,” he points out.

“So?”

“You’re the only other one who didn’t apply for reinstatement to the unit,” he replies. “You’d think that would be something for us to talk about.”

“You never said you wanted to,” you say, giving him a little shrug.

He doesn’t resist the eye roll this time. Does Spencer know he’s being a bit unfair? Yes. Does he care? Not particularly. No one bothered to seriously check in with him last week. He wasn’t expecting everyone to, but he was expecting it from you. He’s only been at work for five minutes, but his emotions are already running high, and he doesn’t care to reign them in. “I didn’t think I’d have to.”

“You should’ve. I can’t read your mind.” Now you’re getting defensive. “And what does it matter, anyways? You’re not my boyfriend; I don’t have to run my decisions past you.”

“I know that,” he snaps. He really could have done without hearing you say that. “I’m just there to warm up your bed when you’re lonely is all, huh?”

You’re shocked for only a moment before pivoting to anger. “I didn’t make you do anything. You could’ve said no. And I certainly don’t owe you anything from it.”

“Clearly,” he mutters.

You heave an angry sigh. “Look, I know you’re mad about the whole thing, but don’t take it out on me. I don’t know why you’re so surprised that I wanted to spend the past week catching up with my girlfriend after thinking she was dead for ten weeks. If you wanted to talk, you should’ve said so. Stop being such an ass.”

Spencer doesn’t answer. You’re right, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. He just looks down at the floor, avoiding your glare.

When it becomes clear to you that he has no intention of responding, you mutter, “whatever” under your breath and duck behind him, walking out of the door and leaving him alone again.

---

The case has been miserable.

In rural Oklahoma, their unsub is burning his victims with acid. Not the worst they’ve seen, but not pleasant, either—this job never is.

You’re still mad at him, which is bad enough, but he’s also had to watch you be far more… touchy with Emily than you ever were before. It’s not super apparent—you still keep it professional at the local P.D. and when you’re out on work assignments, but you’re going out of your way to find any excuse to touch her that you can outside of that.

Then there’s the motel they’re staying at and its thin walls. He heard a few things last night from your room next door. It was quickly followed by shushes, but he heard enough to infer what was going on. So he’d dug his noise-canceling headphones out of his bag. It had been a good solution at the time, but then he’d fallen asleep with them on. As a result, he’d slept with his neck at an odd angle. It’s midday now and it’s still aching.

To top it all off, there’s Jennifer. He’s been trying to keep his distance from her, and had thought the snide remarks he hadn’t been able to hold back might encourage her to stay away. But she keeps pressing the issue, and when she tells him she thinks he’s mad about micro-expressions, he can’t hold it back anymore.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

She protests, so he brings up Dilaudid. He knows it’s a low blow, and that she still feels guilty about them splitting up all those years ago, leading to his abduction and subsequent problem, but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to hurt like he is.

The team is staring and Emily says his name, but he just tells Jennifer that it’s too late to be sorry and leaves without another word.

Outside, he sits on the curb in front of one of the SUVs and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He’s not alone for long, though. Just a few minutes later, he hears footsteps coming from behind him. The sound that involuntarily comes out of his throat can only be described as a growl.

“God, Jennifer, what do I have to do to get you to understand that I want you to leave me the fuck alone!” he nearly yells.

But it’s not Jennifer that answers. “It’s me,” you say softly.

Spencer sighs. He drops his hands from his face but doesn’t open his eyes. “What?”

“Can I sit?”

He’s not sure he wants to be around anyone, but it’s hard for him to say no to you. “Sure,” he says dully.

You join him on the curb, but keep a few feet of space between you. You don’t say anything, though, just sit quietly, letting him make the first move.

“How are you okay?” he asks eventually.

“What?” You sound incredulous. “I’m not sure where you got that idea. I’m so mad at Hotch that I can barely breathe when I’m in the same room as him.”

Spencer considers this for a moment, recalling when everyone’s been in the same room during this case. He realizes that since he’s been preoccupied with you touching Emily and trying to avoid Jennifer, he’s missed how you tense up whenever you see Hotch, and that you keep him out of your eyesight whenever possible.

“But you’re fine with Emily,” he observes. That does honestly confuse him, because he’s mad at Emily as well. And if it had been you in her place? He’s not sure he’d ever be able to forgive you, even without you knowing the way he feels about you.

“For the most part,” you say. “I still feel a little mad at her sometimes, but it helps me to remember that it wasn’t her fault.”

He finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Being alive in Paris and not telling you isn’t her fault?”

“She didn’t really get a choice. When she woke up after surgery, the funeral had already happened,” you explain. “Hotch made the decision without her.”

“Hmm.” He files that information away to think over later. “And Jennifer?”

You shrug. “I can’t be too mad at her, since she did so much for me during those weeks.”

He snorts. “Yeah, out of guilt.”

“Probably, yes,” you concede. “But not having to pack up Emily’s things and take them to storage myself, feeding Sergio and bringing him to stay with me, bringing me hot meals when I was surviving off of cereal alone because I could barely get out of bed, let alone cook for myself… it went a long way.”

On the one hand, it’s a bit comforting for him to hear how Jennifer helped the woman he loves. On the other, she could have ended your pain with three words—Emily is alive—but she didn’t. She let the woman he loves suffer the pain of the loss of a partner.

And she sure didn’t bring him hot meals.

This shouldn’t surprise you, Spencer. You’ve always been the afterthought. The burden. You should be used to this by now.

He clenches the fabric of his pants in his hands. “That doesn’t make me any less angry,” he mutters.

“That’s fine.”

��You can’t expect me to just—wait, what?”

“That’s fine,” you repeat. “I’m not trying to tell you to just get over it or whatever because she was nice to me. Like Em told me, you’re allowed to be mad.”

Spencer bites his lip, resisting the urge to ask you to stop calling her Em. You’re the only one that calls her that—or rather, is allowed to call her that, and it’s obvious why. It’s also similar enough to you calling him Spence that he’ll always start comparing himself to Emily when he hears it, and he’s been trying to stop doing that for months.

“Maybe you just, I don’t know,” you continue, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You could just try to be a little less passive aggressive with JJ?”

He opens his mouth, about to flat-out refuse, but before he can, you tack on, “For me? Just a little bit?”

God damn it.

“Only if she stops bothering me,” he says bluntly.

“Yeah, she, um… she was crying when I left, so I think she’s got the message now,” you say quietly.

He feels a bit guilty upon hearing that, but not enough to apologize, or even really regret it. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, he rationalizes to himself. She’s the one who decided to push it anyways.

After a few moments of silence, you reach out and pat his knee. “I love you, you know.”

He knows what you mean, knows that you don’t mean it like that, but his heart still skips a beat. He responds to you with a nod.

You push yourself to your feet, tell him to take all the time he needs, and you’ll see him when he’s ready to come back in, then walk away.

When he’s certain you’re out of earshot, he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

---

Emily sits down across from him on the plane, and Spencer is immediately reminded of the morning after he caught you and her together. That time, Emily had folded her hands in front of her on the table. This time, she slides something across it to him. He looks up from his book and sees his missing tie, wrinkles ironed out and folded neatly.

“It was in her bed,” she explains when his brow furrows.

Spencer wonders if that made Emily jealous.

He’s not a good enough person to not hope it did.

“Thanks,” he mutters, putting it away in his bag.

Emily’s quiet, but she doesn’t leave. She must have something else to say. He sighs. “What is it?”

“Are you going to Rossi’s house tomorrow night?” she asks.

He looks back down to his book. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure I can make it.”

“Okay. Well, Reid, you can be mad at me for as long as you need to. I’m okay with that.”

Spencer frowns. He kind of wishes she wasn’t being so nice and understanding. It makes it harder to be upset with her, and he wants to be upset with her.

“I’d like to say something to you, though, if that’s okay,” she says.

He reluctantly looks back up. “What?”

Emily holds his gaze. “Thank you,” she says earnestly.

He blinks. “Uh, for what?”

Her voice wavers slightly with emotion as she speaks. “For looking out for her when I couldn’t.”

His eyes drift away from Emily and to the couch where you’re sleeping. “My pleasure,” he replies quietly. When he looks back at Emily, she has a curious look on her face.

For the first time, instead of panicking over keeping his secret, instead of shying away, Spencer looks right back at her. A few seconds later, he thinks he sees a flash of realization in her eyes, but it’s so quick he can’t be sure.

“Well, thank you,” she repeats, and takes her leave. He watches as she leans down and tucks the blanket closer around you. He closes his eyes, leans back in his seat, and imagines a world where he was the one adjusting it instead.

---

“You’re gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine. And then you’re gonna have a bad day.”

Emily can barely get the hotel room door open, her hands are shaking so much. A bad day. What Hotch called it, she thinks, was a bit of an understatement.

She’s just come back from taking a witness statement to help wrap up the piano man case—or rather, she was trying to take one.

“I was told that you would only give your statement to me.”

“Why didn’t you let me pull the trigger?” Regina asks.

“Because you would be in prison.” Emily understands why Regina is mad at her, and she’s fine with taking the brunt of it. Lying to her to stop her from shooting the unsub was the right thing to do. “I know it’s hard--”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like…” Regina pauses briefly, anger radiating off of her. “When the monster from your nightmares comes back for you.”

Emily breaks eye contact and looks down. She knows exactly what that’s like.

Regina recognizes it. “Wait--”

Redirect, redirect, redirect. “Look, I’m here as a courtesy--”

“Something happened to you.”

“So do you want to give me your statement or not?”

But Regina is relentless. “What did you do to him, huh? Did you arrest him like a good FBI agent? Or did you kill him?”

Emily sits down heavily on the spare bed, drawing your attention away from packing up your things for the flight home. “Em?”

She just shakes her head, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and closing her eyes. “It was the right thing,” she whispers to herself. “It was the right thing. I did the right thing.”

You sit down next to her and place your hand on her back. “What happened?”

Emily swallows hard, feeling sick to her stomach. Her hair is sticking to the back of her neck; she tilts her head to try and dislodge it. You catch on and pull it to the side for her.

“Talk to me, baby,” you urge gently. “Just something, anything I can do to help.”

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to speak. “I—I think,” she stutters. “I th—think I just ruined a woman’s pe—peace of m—mind for good.”

You start rubbing circles on her back and ask, “How?”

“You know, when they talk about victims getting revictimized by the system, they mean you.”

Emily shudders involuntarily. “I… you know how we found the unsub with a—a victim?”

Slowly, in sentences fractured by gasping breaths, swallows to hold back the nausea, and even a few sobs, she recounts what Regina said to her.

You murmur something under your breath that she doesn’t catch, then, ever so gently, you pull her into your arms.

Emily Prentiss isn’t one to break down, not in her own home and especially not in front of others. She controls any “negative” emotions as best as she can, her feelings only displayed through a trembling voice, misty eyes, or run-down nails. Screaming, tears, and nervous gestures were not befitting of an ambassador’s daughter, after all, and those habits formed in childhood have stayed with her until this day.

But there’s one person who’s the exception. There’s one person with whom those walls just don’t seem to exist. That person, of course, is you.

You pull her into your arms, and Emily Prentiss breaks down, because she can. She can because she knows you’ll be there to help put her back together again.

“You never had a chance to mourn your own death, did you?”

She hadn’t understood what her therapist meant when she said it yesterday morning, but Emily thinks she does now. This time last year, what Regina said would have unsettled her, and she would have felt sorry for her, but she probably wouldn’t have dwelt on it much. It’s not last year, though. It’s this year, and she’s coming undone in your embrace over Regina’s words, words she knows will never leave her.

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Still… your monster’s dead. I have to live with mine. That’s my statement.”

Emily has a promise to keep, so she boards the jet early. A few minutes later, Hotch slides into the seat across from her and waits. It still takes her a few moments to collect herself enough to say the words.

“I’m having a bad day.”

---

Spencer’s not sure if you’re going to be able to keep doing this job. He became very familiar with your nervous tics and outward signs of stress during those weeks, and now he can notice them almost immediately.

You seemed okay for the first few months. A few habits cropped up now and then—biting your lip, tapping each fingertip to your thumb in turn—but that was fairly normal. It’s a stressful job.

But then your bottom lip starts getting chapped again, and during conversions with anyone other than Emily, you’re quiet; you often have to be prompted to share your thoughts.

He tries to find out what’s wrong, but when he asks, you shut it down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “But, um, you probably should talk to… somebody, you know?”

You barely look up from your paperwork as you respond. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve been seeing a therapist since this whole shitshow started. I’ve got Emily, too. If anything, I should be telling you to go talk to a professional.”

Spencer just says “okay” again, then a few minutes later he excuses himself to go hide in the bathroom and nurse his hurt feelings. He knows you weren’t trying to be mean. Flipping around the suggestion to him most certainly came from a place of love. But he’s not interested in receiving any kind of psychiatric care—he’s actively opposed to it. So being told anything of that sort upsets him and often makes him angry.

Today it’s just salt in the wound, though. The wound itself is Emily. And god, does he ever feel guilty about the resentment that crops up every time her name is in your mouth. She was dead, and every day she was gone, he wished she weren’t. He cried countless tears over her and would’ve given anything to at least be able to say goodbye.

Then the impossible happened—she came back. He didn’t have to say goodbye at all. And sure, there was the initial relief and happiness, and the warmest hug ever, but now he finds himself resenting her. He’d never wish for her to be gone again, but he can’t stop the jealousy, no matter how hard he tries.

Recently, when Emily was shot during a case in California, he held back your hair as you leaned out of the door of the SUV and threw up upon receiving the news. Spencer Reid would never deny that he’s a germaphobe, but he wants that. He wants to be the one taking care of you, the one whose shoulder you fall asleep on, the one going home with you at the end of the day.

He doesn’t want Emily gone, never, ever again, but he wants you back. Those ten weeks, as awful as they were, weren’t the worst he’s had, because during that time, you were always seeking him out. He knows you didn’t want him that way, but if Emily had really been gone, he thinks one day, that might have changed. The thought always brings tears to his eyes.

Still, he would settle for having you the way he did during the years before he fell for you. Things just haven’t been the same since Emily came back. You don’t stay up late talking anymore. You haven’t a movie night in months. You don’t ask about the books he’s reading or what he did over the weekend. This is it: this is exactly what he was afraid of happening when he found you with Emily.

Spencer doesn’t think it’s personal. He thinks it’s because you’re barely hanging on these days, and just don’t have the energy anymore to do things like you used to.

It still hurts, though. He wonders if it’ll ever stop hurting.

---

Respite can come at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. Today, it comes to Emily in the middle of a hostage situation at a bank, in the form of a job offer.

The team is trying to find the I.D. of the Queen of Hearts, one of the robbers, when she gets a surprise call from Clyde Easter, her old Interpol Unit Chief, who gives her the information he knows about the unsub. He doesn’t know her name, but he reminds her that she’s seen the unsub before, at a robbery in Paris while she was living there. Then when the team learns that their unsubs want to fly out to Chad, she calls him back.

“Well, unfortunately Interpol doesn’t have many assets in that particular region in Africa. Maybe that’s something you could help me with when this is over.”

Emily scoffs. “Work for Interpol again? That’ll be the day.”

“Not work, darling. Run,” he corrects. “You see, I’ve been promoted. So, the team’s yours whenever you want it.”

“It’s a hell of a time to bring that up,” she says, ignoring the questioning glances she’s getting from you, Reid, and JJ.

Clyde asks her to think about it, but there’s no time to do that now. She pushes it to the back of her mind and goes back to work.

By the time the day is over, she’s tired. Just tired. You both narrowly survive the explosion in the bank thanks to the alcove you were in, trying to help two elderly patrons. Then a mere hour later, you scare the shit out of her by finding Will strapped to an active bomb and deactivating it yourself. So Clyde’s offer doesn’t come up again until the next morning, when light is spilling through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You face each other in bed, legs twined together under the covers. “What was that about working for Interpol again?” you ask softly, tucking your arm under your head.

“Clyde was promoted,” she replies just as quietly, as to not disturb the peaceful morning feeling. “He offered me his old job. He wants me to run the London office.”

Your eyes widen. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

Emily blows out a breath. “I’d like to at least… consider it.”

You reach out, finding her hand in the sheets and lacing your fingers between hers. “What’s stopping you?”

“I’m sure you can guess,” she replies, squeezing your hand back.

“Well, then I think you’re more than just considering it,” you say. “You wouldn’t bring it to me if you didn’t want to take the job.”

Emily thinks for a moment, then admits, “I… I do want to take it. But I have to know what you think, honestly.” She was already robbed out of making one life-changing decision without you in this past year. She has no interest in that happening again.

“Honestly?” you repeat, shifting a little. At her nod, you continue, “I think it’s a good option for us.”

“Us?” she asks, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, us,” you affirm. “What, you think I’m just going to stay here if you move away?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. This is the first time we’ve talked about something like this.”

“Fair point,” you say, then sigh. “We’re… both struggling here in D.C., Em. I know it and you know it. This place, this team. It used to be my home, but now, I just… it’s not like it was before.”

“You don’t trust Hotch anymore,” Emily says quietly.

You let out a small, broken chuckle. “I’ve tried. I’ve been trying so hard. I know he did what he thought he had to, but I just… I can’t.”

“It’s okay to feel that way,” she points out. She lets go of your hand to reach up and wipe away a tear that breaks your lash line. “In fact, I’d say it’s reasonable, with what you went through.”

You close your eyes and nod, putting your hand on top of hers to keep it on your cheek. “I know it’s been hard for you, too.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I wanted to come back, and at first, I felt like I was home. But I just can’t go back to my old life and pretend that nothing happened. The only time I feel at home now is… well, it’s when I’m alone with you, just like this.”

“Emily Prentiss, I had no idea you were such a romantic,” you say, cracking a smile.

“Oh, stop,” she says, but she’s blushing. When your giggles subside, she speaks again. “I would love for you to come to London with me. But I don’t want you to forget what you’d be leaving. There’s still a lot of good here.”

You nod. “There is. I’m just not sure it’s enough anymore,” you say softly.

“I understand. You can think about it. I don’t need an answer now.”

So you don’t give her one, not right away. But you do a few hours later. So Emily picks up her phone and dials Clyde’s number.

---

JJ’s a beautiful bride, but Spencer’s eyes keep drifting over to you. The dress you’re wearing tonight is wonderful; from the cut to the color, it suits you perfectly. But that’s not what’s really got his attention. It’s the way you’re carrying yourself. You’re smiling, and you seem truly happy, without any reservations. But there’s also a bit of sadness clinging to you, and he can’t tell what’s causing it.

The party has been going on for a while by the time he finds himself dancing with you. You’d asked him, and now you’ve steered him a little ways away from everyone else. “There’s something I have to tell you,” you say just as he’s about to ask what’s going on.

To his dismay, he doesn’t have a clue what it’s going to be. He doesn’t like not having at least an idea. He swallows, then says, “Okay.”

You can’t meet his eyes; you look down to the floor instead and watch your feet move in time together. So whatever it is, I’m not going to like it, he thinks, and his anxiety spikes. “What is it?” he asks, tightening his grip on you without really meaning to.

You take a deep breath, then look up. “Emily and I are leaving.”

His heart drops and he stops in his tracks, causing you to stumble a little over his feet. “Oh, shi—sorry,” he says. “I just—you’re leaving the BAU? But you’re still going to be in D.C., right?”

You sigh, then guide him off the dance floor and to a quiet spot not too far away. “You remember what Emily said about working for Interpol again yesterday?”

“Interpol?” he repeats, his voice pitching upwards. “You mean, like, overseas?”

“London, to be specific.”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say. Things were a little rocky between you and him when Emily came back, and for a little while afterwards, sure, but recently he’d started to feel like he had his best friend back.

Apparently he couldn’t be more wrong.

Spencer’s used to people leaving. First it was his dad, then Ethan. Elle was next, quickly followed by Gideon. JJ was forced out, and although she ended up coming back, it didn’t erase the pain he felt in her absence. And then there was everything that happened with Emily.

So, Spencer’s used to people leaving. In a way, he almost expects it.

He just wishes it would stop hurting so damn much.

What is it about me? he wonders. What is it that makes people run away? There’s clearly something wrong with--

“Hey!”

He jumps, startled out of his introspection. When his eyes refocus on you, you put your hands on your hips.

“I don’t appreciate people being mean to my best friend, you know,” you tell him seriously.

“Uh…” He blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“That includes him being mean to himself,” you continue. “I know what you were thinking.”

“What? No, you don’t,” he protests.

“Don’t I?” You put the tip of your finger on your chin. “Was it or was it not something along the lines of, people always leave me, why do they do that, there must be something wrong with me?”

He hates that you’re right, so he doesn’t answer, just scowls and looks away.

“It’s not true, you know.”

“Sure,” he mutters. Sure it isn’t. You’ve only just added your name to the list.

“I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look at me.”

Spencer doesn’t, and your resulting sigh sounds so frustrated, and then he thinks, Oh, great work, Reid. (Y/N) tells you she’s leaving and what do you do? You piss her off. Honestly, it’s no wonder--

And then your hands are on his face, cradling his cheeks, and he’s too surprised to resist your gaze anymore.

“It’s not your fault, Spencer,” you say, your voice equal parts firm and gentle. “You didn’t drive me away. Not even close. There’s nothing inherently wrong with you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He sniffs, trying to hold back the sudden onslaught of emotions you’ve just caused. “Well, I could have gone without picking a fight with you on our first day back at work,” he says, sniffling again.

“What’re you tal—Spencer, that was almost a year ago.”

“Nine months.”

“Whatever. The point still stands. You’re not why I’m leaving, okay? You’re…” you trail off and he’s alarmed to see your eyes grow wet. “You’re the opposite, actually. You were the only thing keeping me here when Emily was gone. And now, you’re why it’s so hard to leave.”

“I am?” he whispers before he can think better of it.

“You are,” you affirm. “I think Emily’s actually a little worried you’re gonna talk me out of it.”

It gets a laugh out of him, but right after a little sob escapes him and he squeezes his eyes shut. When you hug him, he immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your middle tightly.

“Hey, this isn’t the end, okay?” you say, and he can tell from the way your voice is trembling that you’re crying, too. “I know you like to ignore it, but we do live in the digital age, and I’ll be hounding you to talk to me at least once a week. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’d certainly hope not,” he murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other, trying not to cry too much. Eventually, you pull away. “Besides, it’s not like I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Our flight isn’t for another ten days. I’m gonna be around.”

Spencer nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, then swipe at your face, clearing away the tears. “Um, we should head back. You still owe me a dance.”

And dance with you he does, swaying gently from side to side with his hand resting on your waist. A look over your shoulder shows Emily and Derek dancing in a similar manner; judging by the way he’s holding her, she told him the news as well.

He has an eidetic memory, but Spencer makes the effort to commit this moment to his brain all the same. He wants to remember the way you’re holding him, resting your head on his chest and running your thumb over the back of his hand every so often. He wants to remember how your skin feels against his, the texture of your hair. The lighting in the backyard and the way it makes you glow. The words that you said, telling him that it’s not his fault, that nothing’s wrong with him. He’s not quite sure he believes it, but you’ve never lied to him before, so he’ll try to accept it.

The song ends, and tears threaten to fall again when you pick up your head and take a step back.

“Hey, no more crying tonight,” you say. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying, and I don’t want to cry any more tonight. Save it for my grand exit at the airport terminal.”

That makes him break into a smile and he’s able to blink back the tears. “Okay.”

“Do you mind if I take this dance?” It’s Emily, and she’s looking at him, head tilted in your direction.

“Oh, um.” He clears his throat. “No, um, go—go ahead.”

He passes your hand to her, and what he feels is silly. You’re not some prize to be won; you don’t belong to anyone other than yourself. But he feels like he’s passing you off to Emily, almost… entrusting you to her. The look Emily gives him makes him think she understands this.

“Wait,” you say before she can properly take you into her arms. You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek.

Spencer doesn’t stay around to watch you two dance. He retreats back into the house, fingertips on the spot you kissed. He lets them sit there for a moment, then forces himself to drop his hand. It’s far past time for him to try and move on. He doesn’t want you to leave, but it might be what he needs.

Maybe, just maybe, with some distance, he can begin to heal.

---

On the first day at work without you, Spencer finds a small frame on his desk. He immediately recognizes the picture inside of it—it’s the one you’d kept as your lockscreen for months, much to his dismay.

It’s a picture from the relatively early days of your friendship, well before he felt anything that wasn’t platonic towards you. You’d dragged him out on a weekend off to a nearby amusement park, because, “you can’t die without having ridden a roller coaster at least once, Spence.” He had no desire to do so, but he didn’t have any other plans, so he went along with it.

The roller coaster ended up making him vomit, and the picture is from shortly after that. You’re holding up the camera with one hand and making a peace sign with the other, smiling from ear to ear. He still looks a little queasy, only managing a small smile, but he still looks somewhat happy. And he was, that day. Other than the nausea, he’d had a lot of fun with you.

He picks up the frame and feels something on the back of it. He flips it over and finds one of his lilac colored post-it notes, displaying your handwriting.

“When it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”

Tears blur his vision. Doctor Who. Of course you picked Doctor Who. And you’ve written something else, too, in smaller letters:

If you don’t answer my calls at least twice a month, I’ll tell JJ you’ve been stealing from her Cheetos stash for eight years. Love ya.

He laughs out loud, a little wet giggle that he has to follow up with a sniffle. He slips the note under the frame’s felt backing to keep it safe, then rearranges his things until he settles on the perfect spot for it to sit on his desk. He retrieves a fresh sticky note and scribbles down a reminder to himself to call you when he gets home, sticking it the cover of one of his books. After all, he can’t have JJ knowing about his thievery. The team’s good at what they do, but he doesn’t think anyone would be able to find his body once JJ’s done with him.

His eyes drift back to the photograph, coming to a stop on your face. He misses you already. He even misses the ugly bits, when you’d snapped at each other, when you were crying on his shoulder. When he saw you with Emily that first time. It’s an odd mix of emotions. Longing, nostalgia, grief, happiness, safety. Belonging.

Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.

Spencer couldn’t agree more.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

oh my god, i can hardly believe it’s over. there’s still going to be a small epilogue, but it’s optional. thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who read and supported this series and your enthusiasm for it. you’ve made me so very happy. and if you relate to spencer in this, i want you to know you’re gonna find your someone someday. if that’s what you want, i believe you’ll find it eventually. much love to all of you. 💖

series taglist: @sobereinstein , @zizzlekwum , @goldensatine , @closetedreidstan , @afuckingshituniverse , @uswntxx , @johnmulaneyslut , @90spumkin , @mcntsee , @zhuzhubii , @shadyladyperfection , @mggbler , @eva-cadeau , @esmesisle , @anothergayinthelife , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @zozoleesi , @calm-and-doctor , i think that’s everyone?? so sorry if i missed you.

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #angst #spencer reid #emily prentiss #my fic #my god this took so long #i also referenced im3 twice in this i am a tony stan first and foremost lol

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goth-girlfriend · 4 years

Note

Good evening😬or morning or whateva :D I'm going to spoil you with a Endeavor request: Endeavor having sex with his affair and she gets pregnant but is too scared to tell him because of his past and when Endeavor finds out on accident he promises to be a good father and it turns out right :) like he plays with the baby all the time and cuddles it, super fluffy 😌

Good!.....night? It’s like 1:34 in the morning.... sooooo Good! morning! (8-24-2020) To you, you lovely person, spoiling me with such a great Endeavor Request 😌

I hope your day goes well as soon as I post this! Stay hydrated! 💦💙

💙💙❤️🖤❤️💙💙❤️🖤❤️💙💙

I couldn’t fight the tears as they started to sting along my water lines, I forced my eyes closed and tried to kick my lips, they tasted like poison and rubbed. I reached out for the countertop in-front of me. Finger shaking, just slightly as I grabbed the plastic in my hand. Three of four, say positive, the fourth didn’t give me an answer. How did this happen?!

“I know how this happen, in a very pleasurable way.....because I was being an idiot four months ago!” I scolded myself after asking my self the questions.

I swallowed and looked at my phone, it was new, Enji, bought it for me when I’d lost my old one off the roof of his car. I shuffled on my seat that were the steps to my tub. I took a deep breath, “I can’t tell him, I’ll have to leave him. I don’t want my child to go through the same things his children did.”

I stood up and started pacing the bathroom, “good plan good plan.” I lied to myself.

“Maybe I should tell him? I won’t be able to do it alone....” I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror, “No! What if.”

I felt the hot streaks running down the curves of my cheeks and jaw, but it didn’t register. I clenched my jaw and forced my eyes shut, I felt queasy, and the puking began. I stood up after kneeling for like ten minutes and rushed over to my legs mirror. I rose my hoodie, and it all made sense why I’d gained weight, if you looked hard enough, you could the bulge slowly not really, but just becoming visible, I looked bloated... maybe that’s why he never realized it.... also since it’s winter I’ve been using sweaters and hoodies much to Enji’s distaste. I laughed to myself before pouting, and placing both my hands on either side of my stomach, “I’m scared....” I swallowed the taste of fear, maybe puke, “I’ve never done this... I can’t call my parents... there not in Japan....” I fidgeted and pulled my shirt down, I heard the door bell and perked up, “Oh! My Noodles are here!”

I rushed to the door wallet in hand and ready to get my dood only to come face with Enji.

“Heeeeyyyyyy,” I poked my head out the door and looked around then poured and looked up at him, “You’re not the delivery guy.”

He gave me a look that clearly stated “Are you SERIOUS?”

“Right! You should come in before my pesky neighbor sees!” I pulled him in and looked around once more, my closest neighbor was actually about a quarter mile away, but that doesn’t matter.

“Soooooo,” I turned around and licked the door, “I didn’t expect you at all.” I smiled and fidgeted with my hands feeling sick.

“I’ve come to discuss this relationship.” His words were straight, I felt a fill run through my blood and bones, if he leaves.... what am I gonna do?

“Oh,” I nodded looked down, my voice was a whisper, “I guess say what you need.”

“I can’t keep having an affair, there are rumors rising already. My image can’t be ruined like this.”

I felt my heart pick up, my breathing felt struggled.

“I see,” I didn’t look up as I made myself take a breath feeling my heartbeat in my throat, “well, if this is it, I guess I should give back the jewelry, and other expensive gifts huh?”

“No, keep them, that’s not what I’m here for.” He shook his head eyes closed.

“Alright, is there anything else you need to say? Before you go?”

“I’m getting a divorce,” the words were like a punch to the stomach, I wasn’t the one being divorced but it definitely hit, I felt it rushing up. I rushed or my bathroom and stuffed the pregnancy tests into my hoodie pocket so Enji wouldn’t see them, I clung to the toilet shoving up the seat puked letting it all out. I was met with a tug at my hair, Enji was holding it back and fumbling with a black scrunches I’d left on my sink. He sighed as he rubbed my back, he kneeled beside me rubbing my back and handing me toilet tissue to wipe my mouth a bit that burned its wya through my nose. I took it and wiped my mouth away, I dry heaved a bit, and felt myself shaking, cold, so cold. Enji kept flushing the toilet until it was all gone, he helped me to sit on the toilet, “You’re sick.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, “Don’t move from here until I get back.”

I nodded and looked down, I let out a sigh and groaned, a divorce? He’s leaving Rei? Officially? I mean, it’s good cause this won’t be so scandalous anymore, but... it’s sudden.

I tried to stand by my thighs were shaky and weak. I paced my hands into hem and felt tears, I closed my eyes and let them fall, a new heat on my cheeks wiped them away, I looked to see Enji there, hands on my face, he could definitely crush my skull, his eyes looked sad, but his face was not showing that.

“I brought you water and some medicine to help with nausea. I don’t know what this is, but let’s get you to bed, you look tired, your cheeks and eyes are red and you look weak.” He didn’t let me answer as he gave me the medicine and stood up making his way to my room outside the bathroom and I could hear him moving the blankets.

Getting it my bed Enji told my to put my hand up, I did, he pulled my hoodie off leaving me in the tank top I wore underneath. Something fell but I don’t pay attention to what, but mostly because Enji was helping me sit, even if I didn’t want to. “You’ve already order food, I’ll wait here with you until gets here.”

He took my hand squeezed and I just nodded, the tears in my eyes, I didn’t even feel them, “So sweet.”

For a minute I forgot I was pregnant, until my phone gave a buzz, I looked ya it on the nightstand. I know the chime, it was for my period tracker, I’d neglected completely four times now. Enji didn’t read my phone simply handing it to me. I thanked him and swiped away the notification, “sleep.” He said and brought his free hand to brush my hair back, I craved his warm hand in this cold moment, “If you leave wake me up.” He nodded, and I sighed and started to shuffle in the blanket.

***

“(Y/n),” I was shook awake, I blinked a few times feeling hot in the blanket I sat and pushed it back, I stood up and just as I was about to answer, back in the bathroom.

“We should take you to a doctor.” I hugged and nodded, “yeeaaahhhh.”

“Do you have one?” He asked and looked at his phone.

“No sir.” I was honest.

I heard him sigh, “Take off that shirt,” I hear him walk away followed by some clattering. I pulled off my shirt and he brought back my hoodie, “Wear this, I’m taking you to a doctor.”

He left again and started to talk on the phone, I pouted and pulled on my hoodie after taking off my shirt, “bully, I didn’t even get my lunch.”

I walked spurns my house in the socks I just pulled on looking for my shoes, “where?” I dropped to my knees looking under the sofa, “are you?” I reached aliens and felt something.

“Shoes?” I asked and pulled out some old low sneakers that I used to wear.... once, when I tried to work out.

“It’ll work.” I shrugged and started to pull them on.

“Ready?” I answered back with “YES DADDY SIR IM READY!” I heard a heavy sigh and smiled pushing myself off the floor as he walked into the room, he held up a bag, my food.

“Get in the car.” He tossed me my keys, “No driving.” I nodded and rushed to my car and got in the passenger side and turned it on. I pulled on my seat belt and sat waiting, I huffed after literally two minutes passed.

I honked then smiled seeing Enji come into the garage, I got happy, I like car rides with Enji...kinda like a dog I guess.... he handed me the plastic bag and placed a lime soda in the cup holder, “Do NOT, open it until were on the road.” I nodded and waited, until we pulled out and took the turn.

I opened my bag and found the stir fry noddles is been craving all day, “Don’t way to much, if you puke again well have to stop and clean the car.” “Okay, got it.”

I started of eat and look out the window and indulge in the noodles. I stopped a quarter way in when I felt a shuffle in my abdomen. My food was hitting on an empty stomach, and it’s showing. I covered the food up and placed it back in the bag and tried to didn’t some soda. I finished the drink by the time we pulled up to a clinc.... a women’s clinic. I cringed at the sight. “Why here?” I asked.

“I thought you’d be more comfortable with a woman for your doctor.

“Okaaaayyyy.” I prepped myself to get out, I watched Enji get out with no hesitation, I still hesitated, until he came and opened my door offering a hand. I took it and was pulled back by my seatbelt. I laughed sheepishly and I clicked it before getting help again. We walked in and surprisingly empty, I guess the parking lot gave that away though. We walked in, Enji made me sit, he went and got the paper work from the secretary, and brought it back and I started to fill it out. I smiled as I gave back to him, and he got up and took it back. He told the nurse something and she nodded with a big smile. He nodded and came back to sit by my side. I felt nervous, and didn’t fight the bouncing of my leg, I shimmied closer to his side and leaned my head on his shoulder. A few minutes passed until they called. They took blood for vitamin checks, and muscle and bone stuff, urine for some tests, something about protein and I didn’t catch the rest. They told me to sit on the bed my doctor would be here soon. Then asked if I’d like Enji in the room or not, I nodded and said yes let him stay, I kNOW WHAT THIS IS.... maybe it won’t be so bad with someone else. A few more minutes and here she came, a short plump woman with bright eyes.

“I’m here, so tell me whats happening.” She said and didn’t even look at me, just read some papers.

“Well, I’ve been queasy, and I’ve been puking most of the day-“ I was wished by a hand on my back, “This will help you.” I watched Enji reach into his pocket and pull out a ziplock I cringed at the sight, the four tests I’d stuffed in my jacket.

The doctor took it and looked at them and laughed, “Well,” she smiled and clipped them to her board, “I’ll tell them to run the urine for a test.”

“Thank you.” Enji answered and she nodded then left.

“.......sooooooo, hows the weather up there?” I said not looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t look at me, just ahead at the wall. I looked around, “I was scared, that maybe, you wouldn’t want it or you know....your past... that you might... you know.....” The sigh he let out was depressing, I tried to look at him. I was hurt, out of every fight I’ve ever seen him in, I felt like maybe, just maybe, this would be the lowest I’d ever see him. “I-“ “No, don’t say your sorry,” his stare still on the floor, “I don’t blame you.... for thinking those things, if you want to leave with this child then you can do so. I just want you to know these few things before you make a choice.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, it’s weird because I’m not the one who just got emotionally wounded.

“I don’t deserve to be a father again, I know it, I understand the things I’ve done are not right. It can’t easily be forgiven. The things I’ve done can last over a life time, I’m working to fix all these things, I don’t want to hurt the one I love anymore, but I can’t stand the thought of hurting innocent people. I wanted to spend what’s left of my life with you, this is sudden, and you have the decision and freedom to decide what you think is best, but I promise you, this time, I will be the best man I can for you, and for this child. I don’t want to hurt anyone, I want to be the best I can and prove that I know what it’s like to be real father, to show I know what love really is. I won’t force you to make any decisions, and I won’t force my way into its life, I only want to do this, if you do this with me.”

I nodded and swallowed, great now IM crying. I tired to reach for his hand, “Enji.” His hand squeezed mine once I held his, “I’d love to share my life and first child with you,” I sniffled, “I don’t want my first child to not know it’s dad, so please, do everything you can to be there for us.”

***

“ILL,” I grunted and squeezed the hand burning my flesh, “I promise,” I let out a deep breath, “I’ll show you pain when this is over.” I took a few labored breaths, squeezing his hand, I pulled my hand out of his and took of my new wedding ring, “hold this it’s about to hurt us both once this head starts coming out.” I hissed feeling a sharp pain and then I felt it, it felt like a poop you can’t hold it, it dropped lower and “Alright Mrs.Todoroki, it’s crowning, so just give us a nice push-“

I flexed my lower abdomen and stopped when he said, I took breath, and clenched to Enji’s hand making sure to not squeezed my lower muscles in pain to avoid excessive bruising, “1...2...3... and push.”

I pushed again feeling pressure leaving my inside and pouring out of me, “Breathe,” the Doctor said and she looked up at me, “Someone has definitely been doing their workouts, this is going very quick and smooth.” She disappeared behind my legs and said “Last one,” a paused that felt like an hour, “Push-“ crying filled the room, “It’s a boy! Congratulations! Would you like to cut the umbilical cord Mr.Todoroki?” I let go of his hand but he hesitated, I nodded at him with a smile, the blood drained from him when he saw what everything looked like down there, he took the scissors and quickly cut before coming back to my side, “Placenta is coming.” She sis do felt another wave of pressure leaving me stomach, and I heard a wet plop, and a metallic sound. I shivered but quickly recovered when my necked son was placed on my now bear chest, I held him close and cried, he was a bit bloody still but I was so happy. The tears started falling as I hugged his gently and kissed his head of already bright red hair. “Precious, boy.” I said and gen’s got tried to rub some stuff off his face, he quickly attached to my breast and started to suckle,t tears didn’t stop as I looked up at Enji, he was wiping his own eyes.

“Have you thought of any names? Or should we wait a while?” The doctors said replacing her gloves and smock. “Well,” I looked up at Enji, “Things worked out, so? How about it?”

The doctor looked between us and Enji took the pen and notepad a nurse was holding, he wrote down the name and they nodded and took it, “Well then, I’ll leave you two with him a while longer until your pain has subsided and then we’ll take him to be weighed, and a few other things.”

We nodded and she smiled, “Congratulations, to the both of you.” Once more, after he stopped suckling I handed him to Enji and pulled my gown up, Enji seemed so scared, the baby WASNT small, he had rolls already, and they’re beautiful, but in Enji’s hands, he’s so small. “Hello,” he whispered and tried to cradle it ashore his chest on his forearm, it’s head resting against his bicep and pec. He brought his free hand to cover its torso and side, “I’m your father, I won’t ever leave you, I won’t ever hurt you, I never want to lose you, I’ll be with you always.” Call the hormone imbalance and recent loss of my child, but I was crying, I covered my face with my hands wiping the tears away, so cute.

***

“Enji?” I peeked into my room, nothing, “Enji?” Nothing was in the babies room, “Enji-“ there he was ok his back, on the floor, baby held up in the air, in his hands. The baby was laughing and flailing his arms and kicking. It was cute, I’d bought him an endeavor themed baby onesie, and Enji was wearing his hero costume without the armor. I stayed quiet watching as he stood up, and held the baby up to his shoulder, the baby placing a fist and his cheek on his shoulder, his eyes closed as Enji held him close. “I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

***

“where is he?!” I panicked and looked for my son, who just disappeared. I ran around the house and panic rose through the round when I heard gurgling don’t DROWN PELASE DONT DROWN BABY! Bursting into the master room fight or flight on high I felt stupid seeing Enji sleeping on his back arm circled around and pulling into his side the bundle of fire and Todoroki I was panicking for. The baby cooed moving closer to Enji, I sighed, my adrenaline wearing down, it was cute, especially when Enji turned to his side to hug our son to his chest, and mumbled out, “I’ll become someone you’ll be proud of, someone you can count on always.”

🤍🤍💙❤️💙🤍🖤🤍💙❤️💙🤍🤍

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swtltlmrvlgrl · 3 years

Text

Is it Real? (Part 8)

Chapter Summary: "One door closes, two windows open."

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Warning/s: Moving on; Annoying friend (?)

Number of Words: 1,329

A/N: After the heavy previous chapters, this is more light because I wanted to narrate how the conversation from the previous chapters affected Steve and reader. This is not as emotionally eventful as the previous chapter but I really love how this turned out for the characters.

Y/N = Your Name

Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 (End)

Lighter.

That’s what it feels like.

For a very long time, you’ve been building walls so high up that you didn’t even notice the amount of emotions that have accumulated through the years. All those years you’ve been protecting those walls - enforcing it, strengthening it, making sure that it won’t fall down and break, but those walls had to fall down, to break to pieces and turn into dust. Because no matter how hard you try to make it strong and sturdy, if it’s foundation was weak in the first place, it will never be strong enough. But now you can build a new one, with a fresh cornerstone and solid foundation, and you can fill it up again.

Or maybe,

Hopefully,

Just maybe.

You don’t need to put up walls anymore.

With your head resting on Steve’s chest, you take a deep breath and pull yourself closer to him as you enjoy the rhythmic movement of his chest. After the emotional roller coaster that you went through last night, you deserve a few more minutes of peace before you prepare for work today.

“Hey.” You hear him say, his voice was a little raspy, he must’ve just woken up too. “How’s your head? Does it hurt?”

“Nope.” You answer. “Kinda wish it does though. So I can have an excuse to not go to work.”

Steve chuckles. “As if headaches can stop you from working. You love the children too much.” He gives you small and gentle pats on your head.

“True.” You giggle.

You push yourself up with your elbow as support and let out a grunt. “I’ll cook breakfast.”

Steve moves his hand behind your back to give you support in case you fall out of balance. “You had an hour of sleep Y/N. You don’t need to cook breakfast.” He says, while tucking away the stray hairs behind your ears with his free hand.

“Yeah. But I want to cook for Bucky.”

“For Bucky huh.” Steve raises his eyebrow. “Just Bucky?”

You lightly slapped his chest. “Of course, you’re included. But Bucky… handled the dirty deeds last night. I have to make it up to him.”

“The DIRTY deeds?” Steve teases and lets out an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be maliciously surprised.

“Wha - “ You slap him harder and push yourself up to sit down. “You’re such an exaggerated drama queen!” You laugh. “He helped me while I was spilling my guts out last night.” You say slowly to emphasize what really transpired. You teasingly grunt. “How do YOU have the energy to tease me like that early in the morning and with just an hour of sleep?”

Steve sits up, faces you and smiles. “Waking up next to you gives me energy.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Can’t say I don’t feel the same way.”

Steve ruffles your hair and gets out of the bed.

“I can cook breakfast while you prepare for your work. You can cook dinner for Bucky later.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan.”

You jump out of the bed and the two of you step out of the room, where you were greeted by Bucky’s sleeping figure on the couch. You and Steve looked at each other, he gave you a quick nod and proceeded to the kitchen. You, on the other hand, tiptoed your way towards Bucky. His blanket was scattered all over the floor, you picked it up and lay it all over Bucky’s body. While you were pulling the blanket to cover Bucky up until his shoulder, you felt movement from under the blanket.

Bucky stretches out his hands and holds your hands. He slowly opens one of his eyes and moves his free hand to cushion his head. “You’re okay now?” He asks, his body moving towards the back of the couch to make space for you to sit in.

You smile at him as you sit down on the vacant space, he wiggles backwards a little more. “Yes. Huge thanks to you.” You chuckle. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

Bucky’s hand moves up from your hand to your arm. “Maybe next time you can inform us that you want to get drunk, there is enough beer in the fridge, you know.”

“Never again!” You shake your head aggressively, causing Bucky to laugh. “Do you want to sleep or do you want to eat breakfast with us?”

“Of course I want to eat breakfast with my best friends.” He says, after letting out a yawn. He reaches out his hands, he’s asking for assistance from you to pull him up.

“There’s no way I can pull you up.” You are hesitant, but you still hold out your hands and wrap it around one of Bucky’s hands.

“One.” You say.

“Two…” Bucky continues.

“Three!” You and Bucky shout in unison.

That would’ve been a successful feat but you wouldn’t be Y/N Y/L/N, if you don’t get off balance. Good thing Steve also expected this to happen, you did not notice that he was already on standby behind you and he was able to catch you before you fall.

“Breakfast is ready.”

-----

After the three of you finished your breakfast, you went out for work. leaving Bucky and Steve in the apartment.

Bucky is putting the used dishes in the dishwasher and Steve is wiping the table.

“So…” Bucky starts. “You and Y/N, you two look unexpectedly ... happy today.”

Steve pauses for a second. “Yeah….” He smiles and continues wiping. “Thanks, Buck. For being… patient with me”

“Heeeeeh.” He walks towards Steve’s direction, flips one of the chairs - its back facing Steve. He sits down and positions his elbows on the chair’s top rail. “Are you going to tell me what happened or I’ll beat the story out of you?”

Steve shakes his head and chuckles, he stands straight and looks at Bucky.

“I’m ready, Buck” He proclaims.

“Ready to what?”

“Break the rule.”

-----

The day went by so fast, the lack of sleep (and thankfully a non-existent hangover) did not even stop you from reciprocating the children’s energies. The only thing that you didn’t like about this day was Dot constantly checking up on you.

“Tom’s also asking if you were able to home safely.” She asked during one of those ‘check-ups’. “He told us about a friend picking you up instead.”

“Yeah…” you answered awkwardly. “Bucky. He picked me up. He’s a very close friend, and Steve’s roommate.”

Aside from those awkward moments, the day went by pretty smoothly.

You lock the door of the classroom and proceed to exiting the daycare center. The temperature was a little cold, your hands seek warmth inside your sweater’s front pockets.

Contrary to the cool breeze passing through your skin, you feel really warm on the inside. Warm and light.

It’s been a long time since you felt this way, and you can’t help but smile at that thought. So this is what healing feels like. You’re not running away anymore. You’re just living your life, in the present.

One step at a time, you continue to walk and look up at the sunset-painted sky. You take a deep breath and just take in this newfound sense of self and you can’t help but smile.

As you take your eyes off of the sky towards the direction that you’re walking, you see a figure standing under the street light with his back resting against the post. You immediately recognize him, and it stops you on your tracks. He sees you as well and he walks towards you, stopping at a distance far enough that you can’t touch him, but close enough that you can hear his voice.

“Y/N.” He says.

You take a step forward towards his direction, and then one more. With your chin up, and your chest out, you look straight into the eyes of the person standing in front of you.

No more pretending.

No more running away.

“Tom.”

Part 9 (End)

A/N: Reader was finally able to face Tom on her own, with her own strength!! As much as Steve has been helpful to the reader by accompanying her in facing her feelings etc, but even if she meant it or not, she's been using Steve as her shield, preventing her from really confronting and facing the problem. Let me know what you guys think about this chapter! The next one's probably the last chapter and then an epilogue, but I'm still thinking about it! Haha.

FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED! Leave a comment about what you feel or what you want to see in the future chapter.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers best friend au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers reader-insert #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #is it real?#swtltlmrvlgrl

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iammissingautumn · 3 years

Text

@cinnamonrollorder

Preface: I only read about three paragraphs into what you have down for the au so that I had room to make my own stuff without feeling like I was stepping on what you made (since a lot of Ghostbur is his past). If we have similar things it’s bc we both big brained and I think that’s iconic.

Au is from this post, you can prompt others at here or my inbox.

Hcs:

So, Ghostbur.

Basically folks instead of happy memories he just keeps bad ones.

What really confused people was his kind of.... confusion at mentions of L’Manberg.

T!Ghostbur isn’t very talkative, he’s more keep to himself type. His guilt sits on him like a weight, he’s bitter and sad and doesn’t know how to stop it.

Despite that, just like Ghostbur. He wants to help others.

It takes awhile for him to voice that, to voice anything really.

He spoke but he never said “I want to help you.” Nor did he ever really make any firm beliefs. He scoffed at mentions of Shlatt and disappeared and came back with stacks of wood to give Tubbo. And when everyone was asleep he spent the night building.

He showed his intentions in very small ways, he saw the world he hated, the one he exploded and discarded and he saw the new President be so insistent to pick the nation he found so hard to remember up from the dust. And he wanted to help.

He was still upset. He was upset that Tubbo cared so much. He didn’t understand, told him himself that.

They got in a small argument, it was the most Tubbo had heard him say at once in awhile. There was a flash of fear in his eye when t!Ghostbur got animated and started yelling. “L’Manberg is nothing but a mark on the world that shows how bad I was, how bad I can be! I had one thing Tubbo, one thing! Couldnt even take care of it! Made it with my own two hands and yet the world said I couldn’t take care of it with those same hands and I blew it up for that! That nation. THIS nation is but a reflections of my mistakes! A constant reminder of what I failed to be— of someone I hate that I was!”

“Well... I’m sorry Wilbur but that’s exactly why I like it.” And that’s more awkward then how Tubbo wanted it to come out and the look from t!Ghostbur encouraged him to speak again. “It’s.... you.... did you really forget? Wilbur, we made... I joined your side. L’Manberg’s side after I had stood and watched you sit in the hto dog van. After I reimbursed you for the hassle and saw you killed for singing clown music at Sapnap and the others. I joined after you.... you showed me that the Americans weren’t running things right. I joined after you guys had came into my house and stolen anything to make drugs, and then the next day or so I gave you guys everything I had so we could make more. I didn’t leave when Eret did, nor did I sell out like Manifold had. I knew I could never leave the moment you wrote ‘suck it green boy’ to the sky because I didn’t know if I had ever laughed that hard or felt that happy. And I haven’t left.”

Things are softer between them after that. Wilbur doesn’t remember a lot of what he’s saying, though he remembers reading that book and declining having it in his possession. But he believes Tubbo, and he helps him more afterwards in his small ways that are attempting to be big.

When Tommy got exiled he didn’t have much to say, he just tagged along and helped make him a home. Set him up. He knew Tubbo would rather that he was helping Tommy but knew the other boy couldnt.

After that he kept eyes on both of them, though mostly Tubbo since it was quite easier. Helping him out with what he could, hanging out with his dad in silence. Helping Eret with the museum.

There’s a lot of hatred in his heart, especially towards Eret. But he pushes past it often. Not to find light but to just find some ease. Almost of his energy goes into keeping his feelings in check, though he has dark grey dye he carries around that helps.

One time he ran out of translucent dye to help manage his bitterness and it caused.... quite the scene.

Nothing exploded this time but there was a fight with a handful of people.

Fundy is. Hurt by t!Ghostbur. The last thing Ghostbur fully remembers of Fundy is him taking down the walls.

Tommy gets pissed at t!Ghostbur in exile because he’s such a fucking downer. Eventually tells him to never come back despite Ghostbur having made a home there.

Niki avoids him at all costs.

Eret.... kinda just watches him around. Doesnt really know how to interact. Him and Tubbo are the ones who put the pieces together that Ghostbur only remembers bad things so he’s hesitant to interact and makes their interactions sparse just in case.

Eret has spent most of his time since his betrayal trying to get forgiveness and redeem himself so its hard knowing t!Ghostbur will only ever know him for the worst thing he ever did.

Ghostbur’s sewer still has drugs in it, instead of a library it has blocks of old buildings and he labels them accordingly. He helps Eret with blocks that would be replica’s vs. authentics but sometimes they have to call Tubbo in since he had a clearer mind about it.

Those moments are hard because it’s three of the original four people who founded L’Manberg all attempting to remember it’s history. To t!Ghostbur its like hitting his head against a wall over and over in attempts to remember anything. He’s on the brink of good memories, it always feels strange when he does but he can’t quite reach him and that gives him a special kind of pain.

I hope I did. Literally any of this justice,,, it’s such a heavy au tbh and there’s so much you can explore with it. I genuinely do like the idea of him having generally translucent dye that takes up his feelings, I didn’t come in meaning to put in grey dye but it just worked. Because for canon Ghostbur it’s an act of avoidance, but for t!Ghostbur it’s an act of care and self control. I’ve really enjoyed this like. God. This is sm personally, thank u for sending it in dhdhhdhdb

8/9 translucent emotion controlling dye.

#ghostbur #wilbur soot #villain wilbur #tommyinnit #tubbo #eret #fundy #exile arc #president tubbo #dsmp #Dream smp #mod caden #my writing #hcs #ask game #cinnamonrollorder

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capri-ramblings · 4 years

Note

Ruggie Bucchi x male reader Angst? (it's ok if you're uncomfortable, you can put neutral reader in here! ^^) Reader confess their feeling to ruggie but ruggie reject reader feelings and say sharp words towards the reader. Time passes and ruggie starts to develop feelings toward the reader and starts to regret what he did. I hope it's not too much to ask for this!

This was too long I have to make a separate post for Part 2 lmao but I hope you love this as much I loved working on it even when angst isn't my best skill 😩💖

[A Hyena's Nip] Part 1

Ruggie always kinda knew you had a thing for him. It was in the glances you stole at him when you thought he couldn't see, in every good morning smile you gave to him each time you passed him in-between classes. You also always seemed so... flustered whenever he came near you, but if he was being honest, it didn't bother him all that much.

He did find it a bit weird though, cause he was a guy and you were a guy and there's like a lot of other guys out there that you could be crushing on and honestly, you looked like the clingy type too. The same type of clingy Ruggie always wanted to avoid in girls.

So,it didn't came as a surprise when you went and confessed to him after club activities, telling him how much you liked him and stuff, but it still kinda took him off guard. Ruggie wasn't actually expecting you to pour out your feelings, well, he was hoping that you weren't going to because if he had to be honest,this situation you put him in was very awkward.

He didn't like guys as much as he didn't like girls and not because he doesn't have those kind of urges but because he finds the whole 'i like you,you like me,let's date!' relationship kinda pointless, and time consuming.

You were a good kid though. Ever since you came and got stuck in this school, you always made an effort to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, and there was that time when Leona almost turned his hand into nothing more than dust particles and you practically threw yourself in front of him to stop that from happening. He was grateful, of all the people present then, he wasn't expecting you to come and save him.

Staring down at you now, with your head lowered as your hands fiddled with the hem of your gym wear, Ruggie felt bad that he was going to reject you flat out and he wasn't going to be nice about it too, cause chances are you'll tell him it's okay and that being friends is just enough and when has that actually worked out well for both parties? No. You weren't going to be okay and being friends after telling someone that big of a secret isn't a good story.

He was doing you a favour. Yeah, you'll be down about it, but there's literally a bunch of guys out there other than him. You'll move on and get over him quick. All Ruggie had to do was give you that first push. Even if you'd scrap your knee from it.

"I really,really like you, Ruggie and I know this sounds weird seeing that we're both guys but—"

"But what?" Ruggie cut you off before you could finish and all the nerves you were trying to not acknowledge immediately came washing over you as you saw Ruggie's expression shifted into annoyance.

"If you know that this is weird, what were you expecting? Some kind of fairytale to happen?"

He sounded so harsh despite his voice barely budging, and the words he threw at you made your skin cold. Was he mad? Did you actually went and made Ruggie mad? You were hesitant at first to use this opportunity of the two of you being alone to cleanup after club activities to confess to him, but was it a bad move?

"I,well,I...um.." You tried to speak but your words seemed too far away now and instinctively you averted Ruggie's gaze.

This was a mess. An absolute nightmare. And as if it couldn't get any worst, Ruggie started laughing. He started laughing and you could feel your existence cave in on you.

"Man,look at you! You actually did think some kind of lovey-dovey scenario was going to play out, didn't you?"

One of the things you always found attractive about Ruggie was his laugh. It never failed to make you feel better about a bad situation. But as the realization dawned on you that the same laugh was being used to condescend you...You wanted to cover your ears and run away. If only you could though, it was hard to move when your knees felt like buckling down.

"Hey,answer me." Ruggie nudged you in the shoulder and you winced. "Did you think I was going to feel the same?"

No. Of course not. You had a feeling this was going to happen, you kept denying it but it was often there lingering in the back of your mind. You only hoped for a mutual feeling from Ruggie.

"I'm sorry." You muttered out,lips quivering and eyes burning from the tears you fought back. Your throat felt dry and your chest hurt. Scratch that, your heart felt like it fucking stopped and you regretted ever thinking Ruggie would like you.

"What? Now, you're apologizing?" Ruggie sounded frustrated and looking at you trembling from the rejection kinda ticked him off somehow. Were you really a boy if something as simple as a crush got you all teary eyed?

"Look, I don't know what you were expecting from this whole confession thing, but the bottom line here is that I don't like you that way, and I probably never would." He placed a casual hand on your shoulder then, giving you a slight shake before he pulled away and turned on his heels, his hands folded behind his neck.

"So,just drop it okay? See ya around,kid."

The sound of Ruggie's voice along with the light steps he left behind felt too distant for you to actually hear, but the weight of it all, the rejection and hurt that swelled inside you then, seemed too real to be just a simple nightmare.

As you stood there, motionlessly staring at the ground, you felt your heart shattered in your chest, the bits and pieces of its shards prickling into your flesh.

***

"Hey,____!" Deuce was waving his hand in front of your face, his brows furrowed when you looked up at him all dazed and distant.

"You weren't even listening were you?"

"...Sorry,Deuce. I was thinking."

"And here I thought thinking would only hurt Deuce that way but I guess you guys do share a brain cell after all,huh?" Ace was smirking when he said this, obviously pleased with the reaction he got from Deuce who all but scowled at him.

Another class had ended today, and still, you weren't sure you even heard anything that went on throughout each lesson. Ever since your confession, your headspace had been slightly off. It's like you couldn't even go to your own thoughts without replaying Ruggie's words.

You planted your head on your table with a dull thud and both Ace and Deuce looked to you worryingly.

"You look kinda sick,dude. What about you just skip classes for today?"

"Ace, skipping classes will only get him into trouble"

"What are you? His mom?"

Deuce frowned but turned to you instead, staring at you as if he was trying to read your defeated form, and though you knew well enough that neither one of them would know the reason behind your dispirited self, the fear of them actually finding out still bothered you.

So when you lifted your head, you forced on a smile even when the simple gesture felt like tearing off parts of your own skin.

"I'm fine guys,stop worrying or you're really gonna start looking like my mom."

"Yikes" Ace grimaced. "Definitely not letting that happen,no offense. I'm sure your mom's pretty decent"

Deuce was touching his face when he shook his head and crossed his arms. He still looked worried and unconvinced, and it was starting to give you a churning feeling in your stomach.

"Still,I think you should get some early rest today. You look too pale and your eyes are super red. Didn't you get any sleep?"

No. No you didn't. You spent most of your nights staring blankly at your ceiling while your chest throbbed against your ribcages. You couldn't sleep because whenever you did you heard Ruggie's laugh mocking you and then you'd see him glowering down at you like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.

You heaved a shaky sigh, trying so desperately to keep up your smile despite your voice cracking slightly when you spoke.

"It's nothing,really."

Deuce still frowned,but he let the subject go and the three of you spent the remaining day in various classes as usual before school day ended, and you were heading back to your dorms.

"You could stay and hang with us for a bit, bet Riddle wouldn't mind if we told him you were coming over?" Deuce sent you a sympathetic smile, as if somehow despite how dense you thought he was he knew something wasn't right with you, and for a minute, you wondered then why you hadn't fell for Deuce instead. Maybe he wouldn't have been so harsh.

"Thank,Deuce, but Grim stayed behind today cause he claimed one of the ghosts punched him too hard while they were playing and I think having too much alone time for him would be bad"

Deuce laughed and nodded his head.

"See ya around then, Mr. Prefect"

"Yeah. See ya."

The walk back to Ramshackle Dorm felt like an eternity, and as you placed one foot in front of the other, each step heavy and reluctant, you were beginning to wonder if you'll ever get there without passing out. It's been like this for almost a month now. You were eating lesser each passing day too, which didn't really help your already lethargic self. But every food you ate tasted stale, every small thing you did made you too tired and nothing really meant much point to you now. It all seemed so dull, so terribly agonizing. And all because you believed in that stupid dream of yours where Ruggie Bucchi would return your feelings.

You let out a self degrading laugh before rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth.

"What a dumbass" You said, speaking to yourself. "He's right you know, did I really think he was gonna sweep me up in his arms and say he liked me too? What a load of bullshit."

You stopped, shoulders slumping as the air you tried breathing in turned cold and hard to swallow.

How pathetic did you looked to him then? You couldn't help but wonder. Did he feel weirded out? Disgusted? Did he went back and told Leona and made it their joke of the day? The thoughts spiralled you back to square one and suddenly your throat burned.

Staggering to the closest bush, you fell to your knees and began to throw up.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst wonderland angst #twst ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #male reader insert #ruggie x reader

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klaus-is-the-real-number-1 · 4 years

Text

The day we caught the train (Slytherin!Five x Hufflepuff!Reader)

missvifdor said: It would be for Five Slytherins with a Hufflepuff reader 🤗 they are very opposite in personality but they complement each other. I love Harry Potter and the umbrella academy, so i'm glad you write about both 😄 thank you,

A/N: this was like kinda vauge so i made up like a story line i guess?? Its kinda a mess and really long?? hope this is ok!! I really like these because i used to be obsessed with HP, in this i imagine Five would be from the really posh part of london where, the reader being opposites to him would be from a northern town and theyre both in sixth year which is age 16-17, i had to do so much research for this lol

Words: 2711

Footsteps echoed through the long empty halls as curfew rolled around, the sounds of students rushing to get back to their dormitories after a long night of studying and hushed whispering of passwords was not an unfamiliar sound at this time of night. Pictures were left empty as their residents wandered away out of frame and the castle slowly went to sleep, except for the prefects. As the sun went down, the prefects got up to do nightly patrols to make sure no students were up past curfew, each house prefect patrolled their own areas around their relative commonrooms to catch any wrong doers, not that they were many.

Tonight was your turn, patrolling the basement level and the kitchen corridor around the Hufflepuff dorm room, waiting for anything exciting to happen yet you knew it never would. Hufflepuffs always had a strong moral code and a clear right from wrong, every single patrol you carried out during Fifth year when you were appointed prefect you never caught a single person, now part way into sixth year still not once incident had occurred.

Yet, for some reason, every patrol you had ended up with a certain Slytherin prefect following you around, Five. Five was unusual to say the least, he was a well respected and slightly feared student, cunning and determined, he had a close knit clique of fellow pure blood slytherins, yet for some reason out of everyone in the whole of the castle, he had a soft spot for you. Even though he’d never show it in front of others, during the light of the day he’d sneak in side glances and small smiles, especially in the first few years making sure no comments came your way about your muggle parents or your upbringing.

Exactly on queue, a familiar sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase leading to you corridor only to stop short at the last step. A small ‘lumos’ echoed throughout the quiet hallway before Fives head pops into view, checking it was actually you there before a large smile breaking on his face as he walked into view. “Hey.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?” You smile to him as he got closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

“They know it’s me on, no one would dare try anything.” He smirks knowing he was right, striking fear into everybody, except you. His eyes soften and his tone became gentle when he was speaking with you. He’d always been like that, from your first journey on the Hogwarts express, talking the entire train journey up, secret library meeting when you both realised things weren’t as simple as just being friends. Things got difficult when blood ‘purity’ came into play, when suddenly you couldn’t be friends, which hurt.

The dimly lit hallways excentrated his features, his sharp jaw and high cheekbones cast shadows on his face and neck, yet his dimples still shone through when he smiles and breaks up the harsh exterior that he puts on. Stepping closer, you lifted your hand to run it through his hair, watching his face break out into a smile and wrap his hand around your waist. Small displays of affection weren’t uncommon between the two of you, only increasing through the years of being at Hogwarts. “I’m so glad you stopped gelling your hair back.”

“Don’t remind me.” He rolled his eyes, remembering his poor style choices of his past. You move your hand and run it down the side of his face and across his jaw, taking a second to admire him before dropping your hand.

“I’ve gotta go, my shifts nearly over.” A sad looking smile broke over his face as he slowly lowered his hand from your waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow though.” You say as you lock eyes with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He repeated back to you. He smiled and started walking towards the stairs, just before his foot touched the first step he turned back to you. “Goodnight, y/n.”

Dueling was always one of the most exciting parts of Hogwarts, it was a welcome break from the immense workload that sixth years had to deal with. In sixth year you were expected to be able to cast non-verbal spells, a mentally challenging task where some were better than others. Over the past month your defence class had been working tirelessly on being able to cast successful non-verbal spells with the promise of having a period where you would be duelling, which was exciting for everyone involved, a chance to show your abilities and represent your house.

“I’m going to be pairing you up today,” Your teacher spoke to you all as he was stood on the dueling table, met with a grumble from the students. “With student of the same ability.” He continued, seemingly unaffected by the disappointed sounds of the sixth years. “When I call you out, both of you will come to the stage.”

Cheers and boo’s echoes throughout the room as students from different houses duled, light flying from wands as students desperately tried to conjure spells without speaking, some pulling through well where others barely being able to produce anything at all. Tension rose throughout the room as more people slowly got paired off, everyone wondering who would be the next pair.

“Y/n and Five.”

Smiling, you walk up to the stage and face Five, seeing a small smile emerge from his stern expression. Wands at the ready, you wait for the call to start from the teacher, already knowing your strategy. The air turned heavy and the room turned quite as everyone was ready to watch the duel, you were both the highest achieving students in the class and people were eager to see who would be the best.

Then it started, Five casting the first spell only to have you deflect it, causing a gasp to echo through the room. You knew it would be a risky move to cast a spell that hadn’t been taught, a spell that wasn’t even in the curriculum. It was the only way you had ever found deflecting a spell without having the spell hit your opponent, Five was stunned for a second before hitting back with another spell, only for you to deflect it again and again and again. Waiting for a hesitation from Five to strike and then you got it, a gap in his relentless spell casting when he took a second too long to think about his next spell.

Before he could blink, he was thrown to the floor with his wand flying out of his hand as you hit him with expelliarmus. Cheers erupted from students interspersed with nasty comments from the Slytherin students, you walk over to Five who was winded from his fall on the floor. Offering your hand he goes to take it before hesitating, under the watchful eyes of his Slytherin clique he lowered his hand and picked himself up, brushing down his robes.

“Right!” Your teacher stood up on the stage with you and Five. “Class is dismissed, remember to keep practicing these non-verbal spells.” Your eyes never left Five as your teacher spoke, you felt a stinging sensation wash over your eyes accompanied by a throbbing in your chest at his actions. You shook your head and turned away, unable to keep looking at him without bursting into tears.

“I need you to stay behind.” He turned to you, giving you a stern look only to soften when he saw you in near tears. Slowly, everyone left the room, either going to the library or commonrooms to await their next lesson due to the early finish. Closing your eyes, you gently tapping the lids with your fingertips to try and ease the stinging feeling, you take a deep breath before re-opening your eyes.

“Am I in trouble?” You say as you sit on the side of the duelling stage, legs swinging as you play with your hands.

“Not exactly,” He sighs, sitting in a chair facing you. “Where did you learn that?”

So you start to explain, lying as you went, as you explained you started to immediately regret even casting the spell in the first place. In fourth year you were spending a late night in the library, trying to find any books to help you excel in your classes, you had piles of books in front of you and then one book you opened had sheets of parchment paper interspersed with the other pages filled with spells that weren’t on the curriculum. It was filled with defence spells, jinxes, curses and more, it had been your guide ever since you found it. This, however, was not what you explained to him, simply saying you were doing some reading and found it and were unable to find the book again.

You could tell he didn’t believe you, but sensed that he wouldn’t delve too far into your story. “You can’t pull anything like that again,” He looked at you for a response so you just nodded. “I won’t go any further with this, you can go.”

The rest of the day went slowly, doing everything in your might to avoid Five, you had been patient with him all these years and him not even wanting to let you pull him up because of his little gang looking at him hurt, it stung. You know he’s loyal to his house but after 6 years of always hiding and sneaking around you just couldn’t bare it anymore, couldn’t bare the fact that Five had let this wizarding class war consume him.

Post day was always fun, hundreds of owls flying into the great hall and dropping off post from friends and family at home, some received letters while others got large packages sent in. Bruce was your barn owl, he was large, brown and robust, he would usually reside on your parents farm, being well loved and looked after by your whole family whilst you were away but always knew when you needed him in the castle.

In he came, swooping down with a letter tied to him and landing elegantly in front of you. Petting him with one hand while the other unties the letter, excited chatter filled the room as most other people were doing the exact same thing, wondering what their loved ones had sent them. Carefully opening the letter, trying not to tear the envelope, your eyes scan over the hand-written letter, smiling at all the information that was written in great detail.

At the very bottom they’d attached a photograph of them all together smiling, along with your dog and a few other animals they all looked after. As you were smiling and showing your friends you felt it get pulled out of your hand; turning around, you were met with one of Fives Slytherin friends waving your photo around, calling on his friends.

“Ere’ give it back.” Getting up, you try and swipe it from his hands only for him to hold it higher, scrunching it as he did.

“What are you going to do about it, mudblood-” Before he could finish his sentence the photo was snatched out of his hand by Five, lightly tapping it with his wand and the photo returned to pristine condition before handing it back to you with a small smile.

“Behave.” Five said to him, pulling him away from your table and back to theirs. A smile snuck onto your face as you sat back down, Five had never done anything like that outside the darkness of the library or the nightly patrols, let alone in front of his friends.

Then, very slowly, he started to actively integrate himself into your life, talking to you in class, helping each other with homework after classes and even sitting with you at lunch on a regular basis. Building up your trust for him again, building up your friendship publically even with all the snide comments other people gave him, he ignored them all for you.

As winter rolled round, snow dusted the castle and surrounding areas as if it was a cake getting doused in icing sugar about to be presented for a meal. Cold nipped at your noses as you made the trek into Hogsmeade, students rushing to buy last minute presents for loved ones before christmas break as well as a stream of students flocking to the Three Broomsticks to get their last sips of butterbeer before the train journey home.

The Three Broomsticks was so full that students were being turned away, it was bursting at the brim with some students even even sharing chairs. The atmosphere was buzzing with excited students, conversations so loud that you couldn’t even hear yourself think. Five and yourself had been lucky, opting to come to the pub first thing then doing your christmas shopping, finding a small booth hid in the corner.

“So are you excited to go home?” He was wrapped up in a hoodie and jacket, a discarded hat and scarf lying on the table, leaving him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair.

“I ain’t going home,” You say, taking a sip of butterbeer. “I never have, I’d have to get the muggle train back north, costs around 100 quid each way.” You tap your fingers against the half empty glass. “Canny afford it.”

“You’ve never gone home for christmas?” Sadness was present in his eyes as he locked them with yours but you just shrugged.

“It’s not that bad, it’s like, my sixth year staying so everyone is just used to me now, I get to phone home and they basically give me access to the kitchen and all the teachers who stay put on interest lessons and such.” A breeze caused you to shiver, wrapping you jacket tighter around you. “I also help with the animals.”

Upon seeing you shiver Five leant over the table to wrap his scarf around your neck before gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear; the small display of public affection causing you to blush. Once you’d finished your drinks you head into town, looking down the alleys for all the little shops you could find, looking for the perfect gifts for your family, asking a slightly unenthusiastic Five for a second opinion and just receiving a series of raised eyebrows or nods of his head.

Taking your time to walk back to the campus, Fives hand had found its way into yours, swinging your entwined fingers as you went. As the large castle came into view a bittersweet feeling washed over you, knowing that Five and everyone else would be leaving for the holidays tomorrow while you stayed at the castle. Even if the empty hallways felt like home there was always a pang in your chest on christmas morning, even if it did ease off during the day whilst sat round with friends and teachers, it still made your chest throb.

Joy was evident in the great hall, everyone talking loudly and laughing with their friends knowing they won’t be seen for the next two weeks, an exchange of gifts and cards being passed around. Slowly, everyone faded out to the dining hall, getting ready to get on the Hogwarts express home, you passed around hugs and goodbyes as your friends left the common room, all of them leaving cards and parcels by your bed and made you swear not to open them until christmas day.

All morning you were looking around for Five but were never able to see him and as everyone left for the station you were convinced he had gone. Defeated, you walk through the empty hallways to the great hall for the regular meeting where the staff discuss the rules with the rest of you who had stayed behind. You heard a voice call your name behind you, quickly turning around, you see him. “Five?”

“They needed a male prefect to stay on campus,” He says as he gets closer, grin covering his face. “So I volunteered.” Instead of answering you just throw yourself at him, embracing him in your arms. His arms instantly wrap around your figure, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you, Five.”

#number 5 #number 5 x reader #number 5 fluff #number 5 imagine #number five #number five x reader #number five fluff #number five imagine #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves fluff

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bittybattybunny · 3 years

Note

I hope your not feeling down on your writing skills because I haven't caught up and commented on your latest releases. It's not you it's that I pick too many fanfics to follow and they all update a lot and I've been so busy and I've fallen behind on so many fics from various authors and sometimes my depression just makes me want to lie in bed all day doing nothing and it doesn't help I have to spend my limited spoons helping family everyday. I know these aren't good excuses, but I do sympathize with the lack of energy feeling at least. But your work really does bring a lot of joy to my life. It's so fun keeping up with your various AUs, and your latest one that features Kaya as Spider King has me really hyped because I want to learn more about Kaya, she's so fun! And Ruclipse is such a good comfort ship that just hits all the things I like seeing in a ship. You're so amazing and creative and it's awful that anyone would try to make you feel otherwise! Like your newest OC, Justin Tyme seems like such a lovable dumbass bastard. I love his wild, curly hair and his dapper outfit. I can't wait to see what dumb shit he gets himself into! I know this is really long and rambly, but I hope you know you have fans who genuinely love your work. I don't know if you're still thinking about that one comment you mentioned that got you really down, but honestly, fuck that guy. I don't know what they said but it must have been pure BS to have you doubting your hard earned art skills. I wish I could do more to prove you're awesome and that your fans really admire you, I just hope you don't stop sharing what you love because some rando was nasty for no good reason. Because we love what you do!

It's not like anyone one person nonny so please don't blame yourself. This has been an ongoing thing for a few months actually...

it's just a general thing over all lately like. I mentioned this in dm's with a friend but overall past few months I've had lower engagement overall with my works and it really does a number on my confidence. More so because like your latter point.

yes, I am still very much thinking about that one negative comment. Because that person also has the need to comment on other things and I even had a thing asking why I took a few weeks to update (when reality I posted to another ongoing fic and my TLC chapters are long chapters) and just the fact they could tear into a character (yes it was a comment on a character specifically and not even a main character it's a side character who has an important role for Snatcher's growth as a person down the line) then go saying "why didn't you update" when I posted a double update that week---

Like it lives in my head rent free and I want to literally cry because like the character is a focal in an upcoming chapter and I can't deal with another "why are they back" type thing. because "everyone finds them annoying"

And I'll be honest. it was Kaya. Like I've been trying to have fun with my BCU stuff with her as Spiderking because it's engaging for me and me and @/doodleimprovement even came up with a b-plot involving Kaya and Hattie trying to hook Nell and Marcus together and it's one of the best things as well as Kaya and Nell having a really good relationship.

but because of that one comment it makes me hesitant to do anything with Kaya despite she's one of my oldest ocs, my most thought out ocs and I adore her beyond anything. Like yes she's over powered and such and in TLC rn she comes off as a know it all, but upcoming chapters will show she's just a spacey kid who's trying to fit into a role others decided for her and isn't really as all mighty as she seems. Snatcher even ends up thinking of her as a little sister more than anything. Like fuck I'm even hesitant to share anything on her actual story despite how much work is in it. Like she's my favorite Oc (that's why shes my discord icon, and I'm pretty sure she's my twitter icon as well)

And like the points in the comment just. IDK they didn't fit to her, if anything the points are more suited to be shot at Eclipse.

Which is another thing I just get iffy on. I love RuClipse and everything with it. I love writing and drawing the dorks. But I'm now so afraid if Kaya could be attacked for only showing in a handful of chapters that don't even touch on who she is, when is someone going to finally tell me off on my wolf? who's going to tear into a character I pour a lot of personal shit into to try and comfort myself?

I use Ruclipse to deal with my own romantic heart, they are what I wish I could have so I love to write them, I hurt them but i like to make them happy in the end. Someone who can deal with your highs and lows. No ones perfect but you can still figure it out and love even the negative parts (I am a heavy romantic OTL)

he is in fact a lovable bastard. i have fun plans and he gives me an excuse for why Cel is so tired and having to be the brain cell and how she even wound up working with the time kids when she's so much older than they are. Currently I'm trying to think of how to use him and honestly I think he's gonna wind up hella comic relief fun guy who's just making a mess and do his own side story while Hat and Bow are busy in subcon----

thank you, I don't mind the rambly it kinda gave me a chance to get this off my chest... like I've typed this kinda response up time and time again and I always delete. I feel like I'm whining because I get upset but it's just, I spend so much time making things, I use all my spoons on either working or creating, I just want to know if it means anything but then negativity lives in my head because what's a functioning meat cube??? I try to stay positive but it's hard. Like another thing is Moon Guardian; the reason I haven't updated? because I have had someone bothering me about it. weekly I get asked about how I'm doing on it but it's not from a place of "want to read it" it's because I told them they couldn't post a certain thing until the chapter is done so it feels pressuring to constantly get asked because I feel the only reason they want to post is to boost their thing and I'm just the machine to boost it with my characters and comic.... like it feels they've taken the comic from me and it sucks because I have so many fun things planned. Like I accidentally went off on Nina about a thing with Alpine skyline and Eclipse as well as a thing with a Time Rift and a Jelly ghost.

Sorry kinda went off, just I've sat on this thought train since like early april. I've done my best to ignore it and just keep going but it's gotten really hard with the fact my health hasn't been really great. I've spent a lot of time lately bed bound because I just hurt so badly. if I'm not resting, I'm at my day job which is incredibly stressful rn as I only really work mornings and I see things that are being missed so then i report it and it still gets missed and i can't get it fixed after a point cuz we're back to full service and need the people so I can't nitpick but just.... I'm bitter okay like if I left this shit when I worked I would have gotten yelled at but now we just let it slide??? and this stresses me out which then causes my body to freak out because I'm stressed which puts me in more pain. and then like at work have people acting shocked I have my cane or soemthing and just skfdslkfksdf

so my energy is so tanked. and then the negative comment in my head, no idea if people like things cuz I have no idea if I hear nothing, just has had me doubting why post. Like I should go back to just not posting my stories and sketches or w/e and slink back to my hole like I was before.

idk Its just. a bad night in the house of bun. I've had these thoughts festering and I guess today was the dam breaking. It's probs cuz I'm nervous posting Chimeras because it's a very dark au.

#ask #anon #not art #long post #sorry im just in a bad spot tonight I guess #like i started my day pretty okay but somewhere along the way it nose dived and I'm just trying to not cry in my room

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rosequartzwriting · 4 years

Text

With The Malfoys

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.

“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”

The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”

“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.

Hope you’re doing well darling,

It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!

See you soon, I love you

Signed

-Your mother

You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.

The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.

You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.

You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).

You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.

“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”

She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.

“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”

“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."

You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.

“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.

“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.

“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”

You choked and water went down the wrong way.

“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.

~~~~

Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.

“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.

“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.

“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”

You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”

She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”

“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”

“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”

“I can ask them. I should write them back.”

Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.

"Morning, Princess."

It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.

"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"

"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.

“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.

"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.

He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”

“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”

“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.

"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.

~~~~

“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”

“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.

You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.

Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?

Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.

“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”

You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.

Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.

One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.

Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.

You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.

“Draco.” You whispered.

He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”

You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”

“What?”

“Shh! Listen.”

He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.

“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”

“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”

“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”

“A few years now.”

“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”

“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”

“Maybe.”

"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."

"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."

“They look like they’re plotting something…”

“Just by looking at books?”

“They always look like they’re up to no good.”

“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”

Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.

You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.

While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.

“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”

Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.

The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.

“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”

Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.

“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.

“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.

Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."

"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.

Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.

That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.

~~~~

It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.

“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.

She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"

"I will." You laughed.

Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.

“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.

"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.

"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.

Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.

"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.

"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."

Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.

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