#i just think she’d be good at it but has no motivation other than keeping it going. keeping the equipment clean
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my brain started cooking up narumina high school au and now i kinda have to write it
au where mina is part of a shooting club (don’t know if this is a Thing or sport in japan but it is in some places so) and she’s the Only Member. the only other member (kafka) graduated before they could do it together so . it’s just her now and Has been her ever since her first year (she’s a second year now)
cue: narumi. annoyed. frustrated. angry. at some stupid shit the teacher said about him skipping classes or playing games in class and the baseball club doesn’t want to let him use their bat and he’s not a member bc they have practice and he doesn’t have any other outlet so he’s trudging along the school compounds walking further and further away from the main buildings when he hears a loud Bang
he doesn’t know what it is, but he plays enough games to recognize a gun going off. he doesn’t run, just finds his aimless walking a bit more pointed. more motivated. as he walks in the direction of the noise
there he finds. to his surprise. a shooting range. there are targets placed on the opposite stretch of the …?? grass?? idk i’m visualising a setup similar to archery rn but once i do more research this is subject to change the MAIN part is that the targets all have bullet holes in them and they’re ALL bullseye
he drags his eyes away from the targets and finds the source of the damage.
a girl with short hair he feels like he’s seen before Somewhere and she’s in her pe uniform the jacket sleeves rolled up to her elbows with the little googles and headphones on and narumi watches in (he hates to admit it) admiration as she loads up the gun with such precise accuracy he can’t follow with his eyes and the next moment he hears another resounding bang
“holy shit.” he finds himself saying and in the next moment the pin drop silence as she aims at the next target is broken because she turns to him immediately.
thankfully the gun isnt pointed at him, and she’s kept her arms in position. the only thing that’s moved is her head and narumi sees the pure confusion on her face and wonders if he’s somehow walked so much he isn’t on the school grounds anymore
“oh.” she says, and puts the gun down and pulls the headphones off her head and keeps them resting around her neck. “it’s you.”
and narumi knows what that tone means. she knows him. he doesn’t know her though.
narumi hates to think about how his face must scream confusion because she follows up before he can say anything with: “we’re in the same class.”
he doesn’t attend classes often. or at all really. so that’s why she seemed a bit familiar. like a blurry after image.
“what is this place,” he says, not a question because narumi doesn’t ask questions, he simply gets answers.
“a shooting range.”
“i’ve never heard of a shooting club in this school.”
“because it doesn’t exist.”
he waits for an explanation. because a building so obviously made to host students or whoever with all this equipment and yet there’s no club?? narumi doesn’t believe it. but he doesn’t think she’s lying to him either.
she takes a painfully long time to find her words, or maybe she just doesn’t want to talk to him, because she keeps her eyes trained on the targets far away.
“i’m the only member. so it doesn’t exist.”
narumi thinks he’s heard somewhere that school clubs need a minimum number of members. he never really cared though. since his after school activities consisted of doing what he does during school hours - play games, pick fights, etc. he doesn’t go to school in the first place. so he doesn’t need an after school club.
he looks at the guns lined up. they’re all clean. he looks around him. everything is spotless. no indication of abandonment.
“well. i don’t care about your circumstances,” he says, and points at the gun she was holding. “i want to shoot too.”
he recalls the image of his form teacher, or maybe it was his science teacher, narumi doesn’t know - he doesn’t even know why he came to school today
(but he does. it’s because they kept begging him to attend at least once a week and narumi can’t say no to family)
but that teacher. with his bald head and smoker breath just kept on saying he should be more responsible blah blah he’s almost a third year god what does narumi care? he shouldn’t even have lived this long but here he is! and just thinking about it has narumi balling his fists up in anger.
“you need to be a club member.”
“does that really matter.”
“yes.”
she’s finally looking at him again. and narumi observes how she has really round eyes. a mole under each one. despite looking pretty innocent, she seems to be serious about this, mouth drawn into a frown and eyebrows furrowed.
narumi can’t really be bothered but he has so much pent up energy. and shooting a gun sounds really fucking awesome.
“okay. whatever. just let me shoot.”
she hurries off somewhere, through a door narumi hadn’t really noticed before and he takes off his school jacket, rolling his sleeves up.
he observes the equipment on the table, and then sees there’s spares in a nearby box. those will have to do.
as he puts on the goggles, he looks around for headphones, ear muffs, whatever, narumi knows their purpose - doesn’t need to know what they’re called but can’t find any.
the girl. he doesn’t know her name still. not that it matters. returns with a piece of paper and he almost barks out a laugh
“fill it in.”
“you’re not gonna tell me to wait until it’s approved before i get to shoot, are you.” he glares at her, because narumi seriously doesn’t want to wait any longer. he wants to let out all these restless energy now.
“i’m the one approving new members.”
“you’re not a teacher.”
“i’m a good student.”
he doesn’t know what the fuck that means but it manages to piss him off a bit more so he scribbles his details into the damn form and shoves it at her.
“approve it.”
“say please.”
he feels himself snap.
“are you trying to piss me off?”
she’s not the least bit intimidated. in fact she doesn’t look away from his glare. most people in the orphanage would have run away by now. and she repeats herself, “say please.”
he takes one look at the gun on the table. the guns on display. the painstaking effort of keeping all these equipment clean despite no one using them. the painstaking effort of keeping a club no one cares about alive.
“please approve the fucking form.”
if she has a single thing to say about it, she doesn’t. she doesn’t say anything. takes a stamp out from her jacket pocket and stamps his club registration.
it takes him a bit later to realize he’s joined a fucking after school club.
he’s being handed a gun, similar to the one she was holding and he grabs it. she doesn’t tell him to watch and follow when she starts loading it up. he got the memo the moment she side eyed him and started preparing, much slower than she had earlier when she was alone.
that annoys narumi a bit.
but he follows everything to a tee. commits the steps to his memory. doesn’t know why. doesn’t think he’ll be back. but he makes sure to remember anyway.
she looks around the area for a bit, as narumi feels the weight of the gun in his hands.
while he’s distracted, he doesn’t realize she’s in his personal space until she is, and he has to hold back from throwing a punch.
their heights aren’t that different, which adds to narumi’s list of annoyances from today, and he takes the split second to calculate how tall the girl must be. above 165cm that’s for sure.
how surprising, she’s got a baby face, so narumi had expected her to be shorter.
when her face is finally drawn away from his, he feels the weight of something around his neck and understands what had happened. she could’ve just passed the ear muffs to him though.
what a weirdo.
she puts her own earmuffs on, and narumi mirrors her actions.
she shifts her stance, and he follows.
she shoots and narumi forgets how to breathe.
the atmosphere around her changes for the split second she releases the trigger, and for once - narumi feels fear.
everything seems to move in slow motion, as he watches her. her face. her eyes narrowed. concentration the only thing there and time resumes as the bullet pierces through the air.
narumi doesn’t have to look to know she’s hit bullseye again.
it’s a challenge. to him, at least. he knows she probably doesn’t care about him. but narumi wants to shoot like that too. so he takes a deep breath and steadies himself and pulls the trigger.
“you’re surprisingly bad.”
not a single bullet hit even remotely close to the center of the target.
“aren’t you just absurdly good?! who the fuck hits bullseye consecutively? look at all your targets!” he screeches, tugging the ear muffs off.
“kafka-kun did say i was weirdly accurate…” she muses, has to think about it- as if she wasn’t aware. as if she only had this realisation.
narumi wants to sock her in the eye or something.
he lets out a deep sigh. at least he released his pent up anger. although he’s kind of angry at a whole other thing now.
“so? what the hell are you doing here if you’re this good. there are competitions aren’t there.”
he doesn’t know why he’s making conversation
“i’m just taking care of the club.”
“the club that doesn’t exist.” he points out.
“i made a promise.”
and narumi remembers he’s not the type of person to give a shit. so he shrugs, ending the conversation.
he refuses to ask for help. for advice. so he keeps his eyes on her as she shoots, and narumi thinks there’s no need for her to train at all. her. accuracy is crazy. he doesn’t know why she even bothers coming here.
by the end of the day, two hours later, he’s managed to get a bit better. or so he likes to think.
he can’t believe he stayed until the sun is about to set. in school.
as she starts cleaning up, narumi finds himself mimicking her actions, the same way he has been doing the entire time.
to his own surprise, his back is sweating, and it must’ve taken a bit more effort than he’d considered.
“ashiro!” somebody calls, and narumi nearly jumps out of his skin. he doesn’t get surprised though. so he pretends he isn’t.
ashiro. he says the name in his head. so that’s who she is.
doesn’t ring a bell.
“hoshina.” she says, and despite a friend (?) - narumi presumes, showing up to this side of the school - she doesn’t smile.
in fact, narumi doesn’t think she’s seen her make any sort of expression that wasn’t a straight face or brief concentration.
well. not that he cares.
“who’s that?”
she looks over to him.
and he looks back at her.
“narumi. from my class.”
so she does know his name.
“ahhh the problem child?”
this guy is pissing him off.
“and who the hell are you? club activities ended ten minutes ago, for your information.”
he doesn’t know if they did end ten minutes ago. but it’s when ashiro started packing up. so he assumes that’s the case
the guy laughs - loud and annoying and narumi held back against punching ashiro but he won’t back against this guy.
“you bastard-,” he growls, walking up to him and glares at ashiro who stops him.
she doesn’t stop him. per say. doesn’t say anything really. but she’s moved closer to him. and she has one eyebrow raised.
“whatever.”
he doesn’t know why he stops.
narumi gen doesn’t stop for anyone.
and that annoys him even more. his list is pretty long now.
longer than it should’ve been.
“so you managed to increase your club numbers? good for you.”
it sounds so sarcastic, but narumi knows it’s not. everything just kind of sounds like shit when it comes from that guy.
“i’m not-,” narumi starts, and then stops. that’s twice now. “i’m not.”
ashiro holds the piece of paper up. the fucking club form and points at the stamp in red. “he is.”
“i’m not coming back here.”
“you probably should though? your aim doesn’t seem to be the best.”
the guy says, and damn this fucking bowlcut guy because the next time he speaks narumi will definitely slam this guy face’s into the wood floor.
“hoshina.” she says, and the tone is a warning. narumi doesn’t need somebody else giving out warnings for him. “your aim is just as terrible.”
“but i’m not a member of the club.”
“he’s new.”
narumi doesn’t know if she’s insulting him or defending him. doesn’t think he’d like either option.
the guy shrugs. before looking at ashiro. “are you done? let’s go.”
she nods and turns to him. they walk out together.
ashiro locks up, and narumi leans a little away from her to take one last glance at the shooting range.
“see you tomorrow, narumi.” it’s the first time she’s addressed him by name. even though she knew it.
“i’m not coming to school.”
“you’ll be here though.”
she doesn’t have to specify for him to know she means here - as in the shooting range.
“i’m not coming to school.” he repeats.
she shrugs, like she already knows.
narumi watches as the two leave, talking about something he can’t hear from where he is, still standing by the door of the shooting range.
he’s not coming back tomorrow.
“you’re here.”
“took you long enough. unlock the door.”
“i told you so.”
“shut up.”
#egg boils#let me dump the entire scene that occured in my brain during my shower so i don’t forget#idea bank#what the hell happened this wasn’t supposed to get so long i laughed#my brain…#i’ll copy it over to google docs later#narumina#also mina keeps the club alive bc kafka wants it to stay alive and i Know a shooting club and KAFKA? but idgaf my world#i just think she��d be good at it but has no motivation other than keeping it going. keeping the equipment clean#she doesn’t want other people joining tho. that’s why she doesn’t put posters up. it’s her safe space. her secret sanctuary#and then comes narumi stumbling in. but she doesn’t mind. mina is shocked she doesn’t mind. the only person she hadn’t minded was kafka#and yeah idk maybe they go to competitions together i didn’t think that far
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Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her
⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.
There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background.
Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character.
The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.
This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.
Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.
In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”
When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.
Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals. In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.
You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.
When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.
We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the dinner scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.
While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.
Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.
Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”
Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.
Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness.
It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”
Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:
Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.
When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.
Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her wrongdoings.
Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.
And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.
That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.
#arcane#caitlyn kiramman#character analysis#league of legends#caitlyn#essay#in this essay i will#food for thought#i guess we really are a league of legends#caitvi#violyn#arcane vi#season 2 spoilers
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Falin who cares too much and too little - analysis
Been stewing on Falin thoughts for a while, I know I have an interpetation on her that differs from many but I’m jumping into the fray. I think there’s a lot to be said about what we do see of Falin. This shorter Falin analysis I made is heavily encouraged prior reading. This analysis mainly explores her complex relationship with caring and so it’s sort of structured in two halves, with Faligon at the crux of it all.
Falin cares too little :
A lot of people assign Falin a people pleasing mindset and I… Don’t agree. We never see her care at all about people in her town or at the academy not liking her.
We do see her worrying about what people think of her… ONCE. And Laios comforted her, told her they didn’t matter and she should be proud of herself. She latched onto that hard. That’s why this scene was so important to be included during the dragon fight, relationship-defining; it’s always been them against the world. She grew to not care what others thought, to only focus on her close loved ones. No one else matters.
Laios’ words were her world. Her older brother who taught her how to feel comfortable with herself, who told her, you’re great, others are the ones in the wrong to not see that, I’ll always be with you, always be there for you. Older brother who always made great plans, who always knew more, who was better at wrestling to name the dogs, who she has always idolized. Laios who always spoke of traveling the world, to which she always said she wanted to follow. And she would, she’d follow him even if it meant leaving the academy and all she knew behind, she’d follow him to the ends of the world, and that’s what she did.
She didn’t care about showing to her classes or keeping up such appearances, she doesn’t even think of toning down her jumping into bushes when Marcille recoils, etc. She acts like an obedient pawn often, to her parent’s directives and then following Laios around no matter what he decides to do, but I don’t think the motivation is people pleasing, rather it’s being with & caring for her loved ones, and her go-with-the-flow attitude enhances the impression. Not that it’s as simple as that, mind you, but let’s talk about this for now.
Falin is perceived as selfless because we, the audience, have our perspectives revolving around the main people in her life (Laios, Marcille). They’re the ones she’s devoted to and people who care about her back a lot too, but to people like her classmates or the towspeople she probably must have seemed like someone who didn’t care about the people around her or her surroundings a lot, who just went on alone and did her own thing.
What matters to Falin? From what place does her kindness come from? Is a part of her keeping up appearances? And I think that’s the point, the horror of Faligon as well, that we can’t tell just how in control Falin the person is as the chimera (because we are shown that she’s in there, we just don’t know at what degree), that we don’t know her enough to be able to tell when she’s at her most genuine, her most raw. That even if you do settle on none of her being present as Faligon, we have to at least consider it, consider that she may be able to do something like this and have a part in it, brutal and uncaring. That even the lenses we see her through, the people who love her, may be unreliable.
And this is what’s very interesting about her too, she truly is so idealized by people around her as a saint. She’s so good and kind and caring to everyone etc etc etc. Laios, Toshiro and Marcille all see her as the paragon of goodness in the world. More cynical characters like Namari and Chilchuck have more layered opinions on her, the latter finding her somewhat unnerving because he can’t read her well. But then with that one flashback scene we see that… Her priorities are intensely focused on Laios and Marcille, she doesn’t care all that deeply about anyone other than them (+ maybe her parents). The rest of the party is in the same danger here but only Laios and Marcille who she’s speaking to get the special ,ention, and if they don’t cross her mind then of course she’d be ready to sacrifice strangers through a risky teleportation. That doesn’t make her not kind or caring!! Just that greater good isn’t exactly her priority. Any means is alright if the end result is her loved ones safe, it usually takes the form of healing and caring, but we see she’s ready to fight and make dangerous calls too. To me there’s this aspect to her that she isn’t as pure and magnanimous as everyone thinks she is, both in-world and interestingly enough meta wise as well, and there’s something interesting to that.
People pleasing implies a need to be liked, needs for the motivation to be that. A yes-man, etc. But if we analyze Falin, her general kind, smiling demeanor is more a matter of passivity I yhonk. Conflict avoidance is easier, so she’s friendly and hopefully things’ll be smooth sailing. It’s easy to be kind to classmates even if they act wary and rude if you don’t care about what they think either way. Of course she prefers good things happening to people over bad things, she is genuinely kind, but I think people tend to assign her a very grand altruistic way of life when to her the motivation is pretty self-centered. She doesn’t do what she does because she loves them, but because she loves them.
One situation that’s interesting to dig into for her way of thinking, and what I’m trying to get at, is Shuro’s proposal to her. I’ve seen people saying she hesitated because she didn’t feel comfortable saying no even though she wanted to, "I can’t say no, I don’t want to hurt him", something that sounds sensible and familiar, but it’s actually canon in the Adventurer’s Bible that the reverse was the case, that she didn’t feel comfortable saying yes. Because the offer was tempting, but it’d have been a loveless agreement on her end. And it makes sense she’d want to say yes too, like we see with the Toudens, marriage is very much a political strategical economical thing in their village, there’s even a bit on it on Laios’ Adventurer’s Bible profile about dowries, and both siblings were engaged very early. They lived poorly for a long time, it’s an enticing idea to marry rich, to have not only yours but your brother’s needs met forevermore easily, which at one point in their careers was their main worry and goal. Why shouldn’t she accept a life of leisure and wealth handed to her by a lovely friend?
So her hesitance was "yeah that’s convenient for me, but where it’s everything to him and heartfelt I’m able to be detached because I don’t care about it that much… Can I do that? I’m not reciprocating, not saying yes in the way that matters. Can I do that to him?" Very caring even though it’s not what you’d expect, isn’t it?
And central to my analysis, where I’m going with this is, I feel like that’s the thing with her character, that she doesn’t feel as strongly as she "should" sometimes, or feels a different way than she "should", or at least that she feels that way and others say she does. She didn’t mind suddenly leaving the academy, leaving Marcille behind and not seeing her for 4 years. She acted like it was no big deal that she sacrificed herself after getting resurrected after the red dragon fight. And in both those cases it upset the people around her greatly that she didn’t seem to get why it was such a big deal, didn’t seem to care about how they’d experienced her choices.
So it’s a tendency… And it’s not that she doesn’t care, it’s just that the way she measures what’s good for the ones she loves isn’t the same as what they themselves think it is (like Laios and Marcille not wanting to be apart from her). It’s an overt but quiet kind of care, it’s doing things like following them around and making sure they bathe and have a meal, even if that means she has to be dragged into misery too.
So yes she probably would know "not caring enough/the right way" is one of her perceived flaws, and that informs how she tries to handle her response to Shuro’s proposal. Her not wanting to accept like her first gut instinct, is because she’s thinking about reciprocity, about if it’d be right to go into this knowing that they have different priorities and she might not be able to keep up with the type and amount of emotions he wants/expects from her. And that’s a big part of her character isn’t it, having expectations pushed onto her. Her trying her best, but in her own way that may seem odd or even unfeeling. Not unlike when she exorcised the ghost as a kid too, unblinking and matter-of-factly, and not seeming to understand why people stared the way they did.
Even though she answered his proposal only post-canon, she’d been pondering it for a while even pre-canon and the Adventurer’s Bible explanation was released midstory, so I’m hesitant to assign her much growth about her hesitation and what I went on above, since she still didn’t react "right" with Laios after the red dragon fight (even if she apparently doesn’t remember sacrificing herself) and put herself in that situation in the first place. She hasn’t finished her arc on that flaw of hers is what I’m saying, she for sure still has it, but I certainly think her thoughts on Shuro’s proposal shows awareness, both of herself and social.
And awareness is a big analysis key word with Falin, especially here it can be hard not to conflate not caring with not knowing. How socially aware is she? It’s rather layered, because canonically she wasn’t aware of her ostracization in her hometown at all, and we’re not sure if she knew Shuro was interested in her before he proposed, but she generally seems more socially aware than Laios. She tags along on his caravan job to make sure he isn’t being mistreated (though doesn’t ask he get a salary), she catches social faux-pas more easily like in the genderbend magic mirror omake with Shuro, and interestingly enough she’s very good at empathizing with her parents and understanding their perspective. We see when she’s worried about Marcille coming that she does know about propriety and how appearances shape impressions. Being a chief’s daughter must at least have taught her a thing or two on that front.
She never stands up for herself, but when it comes to defending others she worries, strategizes and explains.
And this sort of understanding is part of why I think she’d notice the expectations pushed onto her like I was saying earlier, notice how she makes people feel when she’s careless. But if she changes anything about herself in response to noticing is for her to choose, and generally I think it’s a sort of inbetween of yes and no: that she becomes more complacent but also more reserved, complying but by hiding more of herself passively. She’s not sure wether to accept or reject Shuro’s proposal, doesn’t want to lead him on? She’ll just be taking a while to silently consider it, try to keep things as they are for the time being. The third, less conflicting option. She doesn’t feel heard by Marcille who keeps infantilizing her? Just bear with it. Retract yourself emotionally. Settle for it.
We see that when she was young she had a tendency to not read a room, and I think that’s here too. She doesn’t get why her nonchalance upset others but that doesn’t change that she doesn’t want them upset or hurt, so she tries, albeit in maybe a roundabout way. She always had a hard time deeply connecting with people, often keeping herself some amount of emotionally distant: erasing herself from the equation, from the two-way trade that relationships are and making it a onesided thing instead, where all their needs and emotions are directed towards her but she only lets out a bit of her own show. She takes everything upon her and deals with it and tries not to give others this same burden, though not on a conscious level, it’s just that she’s learned growing up that she doesn’t have much agency.
Like I went into with my analysis linked at the beginning, I think Falin is used to just taking what she can get and not asking for more, when it comes to social bonds. She’ll take spending time with her mother no matter what it is they do, she’ll follow Laios to the graveyards and stick by him even when he’s pushing her away (because he doesn’t want her borrowing his book or "No copying!" or such). Her father was always distant, cold and uncommunicative, her mother was considered sick from anxiety and the exorcism attempts were the main way they spent time together, at dinner tables there were only her and Laios. The dogs picked on her too even if she loved them— And so did the townspeople, maybe that being normal to her at home is why she didn’t notice the ostracization she suffered.
She’s always been the last to be asked about decisions or what she wants, never asked to play with at recess, neither her father or Laios asked before sending her to the academy or leaving the village. At home, in the hierarchy she was considered to be below the dogs by the dogs themselves, as someone they can disrespect. Dogs learn from example and behavior, so this means Falin must have been pushed around a lot, and that the family didn’t try hard to rectify the dogs’ misconception, likely worsened by Laios regularly wrestling with her as a competition.
So for example when Falin showed Marcille food, it was her way to implicitly ask to have lunch with her without voicing that question, without daring to take up space. Someone’s presence isn’t something you ask for, it’s something that’s bestowed upon you, you can follow them around but you can’t ask them to stay or to come with.
She’s used to her needs and wants not being listened to, so she’s learned to have less wants. Caring less about herself, caring less about other people beyond her safe zone, was a defense mechanism in part. She has a sense of learned helplessness too, like how when Marcille came to take her away from Laios, even though she didn’t want to leave with Marcille it felt so determined and unshakable to her that whatever Marcille decided Falin would have to comply with.
And still, it’s the "marrying you would be awfully convenient if it wasn’t that I’d feel guilty for not loving you back, the way you wanted me to when you proposed to me" and the "I don’t regret leaving the academy and leaving you behind without goodbyes but I’m sorry that you’re so much more upset about it than me". It’s the guilt of not loving people back the way they want to be, with the same intensity or fervor.
It’s the autism it’s the aroace of it all, it’s the emotional stunting and confusion but the pit in your stomach telling you you did something wrong again. The no object permanence even for people you love even for 4 years, it’s the feeling like you’re somehow at fault for someone having fallen for you and not knowing what to do with any of it. I’m not joking btw it isn’t uncommon for autistic people to not see their close friends for a long while, not having missed them all that much and for that to be really hurtful for the other if they notice/ask about it. "Hiii bestie! Oh umm you’re uh more emotional about this than I expected, hopefully you won’t feel alienated by me not feeling as intensely about it…"
So… Yeah. I think she thinks of things and relationships in a different way than most people, and beyond "good things happening to people is good" I don’t think she actually cares about people all that much. I’d argue that Laios shows more desire to connect with others and make relationships. And just like with Laios and his own issues with humans, that doesn’t mean her kindness is a lie or ungenuine or worthless! It just means that like, well it’s pretty straightforward really, she’s not all that social and doesn’t see casual bonds as meaning all that much and whatnot. She does want to see people happy, but it’s not as much like… A conviction or goal. She’s too laser focused on a select few people. "It’s not that they’re bad people, they just aren’t interested in humans."
And sometimes it feels like people get defensive about Falin in a meta way too, like if you ever so much as imply Marcille isn’t her whole world or that she isn’t the kindest soul out there then you’re saying she doesn’t care at all or she’s evil. And that’s actualy exactly the sort of vibe I wanted to get through with my analysis above here actually haha, that she does care and she is kind but it’s not in a way that’s quantified or understood in a way that makes people feel comfortable. In a way, that makes people feel insecure because they don’t have the same logic as her, don’t show love the same. And I think this is another stellar depiction of autism, of parts of it that feels unpalatable to many, if I’m making sense. The fandom idealizes her as well, which isn’t uncommon or surprising for the character embodying the trope of the perfect beloved to rescue.
And disclaimer, as I said in the tags I feel like the details of Falin are pretty vibe based when it comes to analysis, there’s absolutely a valid angle where she does super care about everyone always, feel free to disagree with me on the overarching angle of my analysis. There’s enough supporting evidence to tip the balance either way I think, and the reason I’ve chosen this angle is I feel it’s more compelling for the themes in Dunmeshi of idealization and being different, of desires vs wants, and because I think it neatly ties up Falin’s character arc as I’ll go over throughout the next section…
So.
Not feeling as much as she should. And……. Is this not Faligon pushed to the max?
You can’t tie down a dragon. As the chimera, she gets to just not care about everyone else and be on her merry way.
Part of it I think is finding comfort and freedom in the mindlessness, in not having the burden of feelings and connections and a consciousness (despite still ending up seeking those in a stranger, Thistle). Like when she’s dead in the purgatory as well, she gets to just… Hang around and do whatever. Similarly to when she played in the forest instead of going to class in her academy days. That’s what freedom and peace of mind looks like to her. Why she decides to roam post-canon, if only now with the goal to find herself instead, with her mind in tow and somewhere to go back home to.
There’s excellent analytic framing out there about how of course, Dungeon Meshi has a big theme of grief and letting go, and… Falin was always a symbol narratively, idealized by characters and often underconsidered by them despite their love. It was Falin’s choice to sacrifice herself for Laios, she thought it was worth it, knowing that it would be her end. Her resurrection and the process of it intertwining her soul with a dragon’s wasn’t done with her consent, and the subsequent opening it gave her to become a chimera puppet. She’s stripped of her agency consistently, and so… It’s very noteworthy that the final choice, of wether to go back to life or to stay dead, in that purgatory scene, was up to her. And she chooses life, but I do think about her in those fields and how at home she seemed there. Peaceful, by herself in a vast calm expanse she could explore, free.
Personally, I think freedom is Falin’s own subconscious selfish desire. And though to us becoming the chimera is obviously a shackle, I think it felt like freedom to her somewhat, too.
And if you think I’m going wildly off the rails here I want to talk about Laios’ wish of becoming a monster. And to be clear before getting into it, being mentally a monster is absolutely a big part of the appeal for Laios, it’s something that’s consistently referred to, something especially pointed out in the werewolf monster tidbit with Lycion. Right panel is from that, but left panel is from the extra with Izutsumi where Lycion talks about suppressing souls in a beastkin body, the human or the beast soul.
Finding comfort and freedom in being mindless, less sentient, less aware? While being unaware in her hometown might have saved Falin a lot of heartache although perhaps stunted her emotional growth, it’s always been Laios’ curse.
Actively, through his choices, he seeks to grow closer to people, to form deeper bonds, to understand and be undertood, but… On a deep seated level, what he desires is to leave humanity and civilization behind. He has an irrational hatred for humans, born from the trauma of ostracization, being different, being beaten up and rejected consistently through his life. Running away from problems is easier. He wants to be free from being a social animal from a social species who has deemed him the black sheep, he thinks it’d be simpler to just leave it all behind, people and his own humanity. At its core, to Laios becoming a monster is a power fantasy, a coping daydream of "if only I could be strong enough to never be hurt again, the power to destroy anything I want, the power to go somewhere better, if only it was possible for me to never feel hurt again. If only I could be someone, something, that can never be hurt". "If there’s someone you don’t like, you can gobble ‘em up in one bite. If you could fly, you’d be able to leave this village right now." It’s a childhood fantasy, from a deep sense of being misplaced and a desire to be able to stand fearless, thinly covering up resentment that Laios represses.
But you’ll notice, when the Winged Lion is enticing him in the last page, even now with his lifelong wish of becoming a monster on a silver plate, he still cares about his friends. He still has that sense of responsibility to his friends, doesn’t want to leave knowing they’ll be in danger and alone. The offer that his friends may be left unharmed is already good, but Laios also visibly flinches when the Winged Lion offers to specifically care after Marcille and rid her of her biggest fear. Laios’ care runs that deep. Not unlike with the succubus, he resists temptation until he gets reassured that everyone will be okay. But see, what he desires isn’t to stand alongside Marcille until her last days, it isn’t to stay and see how well his friends will live, it’s to go. It’s to leave. It’s to fly away, a monster both in body and mind. He wants to be free from caring here, wants to not have to worry about his friends, wants to just go do his own thing, but for that he needs to feel safe in the belief that said friends will be safe even without him being there to see it, because despite everything else he cares, he does. It’s again that dichotomy about caring and wishing you didn’t, or not caring and wishing you did.
In the end, it’s Falin who achieves that wish. Both by becoming a chimera during canon, and by going traveling post-canon. In the latter, being both free of human relationships as something chaining you while still being uplifted by them, by the knowledge that there are people out there you love and that love you. It’s a theme that can also be connected with Marcille, because she gets anxious over people she loves getting out of her sight, worrying they’ll get themselves killed, that time is passing while they’re away from her. But before she can get to the point where she can both have her freedom and being uplifted by her social bonds, regaining both her individuality and her connections, she has to get a taste of just one at a time. Before they can find balance in her life, she has to see what it’s like to have what she’s never had on its own. Unapologetic freedom, and power.
No one can blame you for not caring enough or caring right if you’re a fricking dragon!!!! You make the rules when you’re a beast and you can just… Fly away. From anywhere, from anything. And if a dog bites you you can just crush it. Instead of being pushed around by the dogs because you’re at the bottom of the hierarchy, you’re now at the top, the one with the power to be heard and do what you want without consequences.
I think she’s on autopilot. I think she’s on autopilot a lot of the time, even before being a chimera, and it’s partly why her will is so weak compared to regular dragons. (Again, read my shorter analysis.) It’s familiar to slip back into the role of following someone around unquestioningly. And that’s what is weaponized when she’s a chimera, that instinct she’s been nursing all her life to unconditionally support, defend and follow someone. Only now, that someone doesn’t matter in itself, only the symbol of it. She doesn’t mind, either way is fine. Her will is weak after all, because she’s trained it to take as little place as it could.
Falin cares too much
She spends all her time caring for Laios and Marcille alternating that none of her care and emotional energy is left for others, including herself. So she had to get relieved of all of that for a bit, becoming the chimera so she could reset and recenter and remember that she, too, indeed, is there and an important part of her own life.
So you’re probably seeing the duality I’m talking about here, Falin is very self-sacrificial but for specific people in ways that they often don’t recognize or appreciate. She cares but selectively, both in people, putting all her eggs in the same baskets, and in the ways she cares after them. She doesn’t care a lot, but when she does she cares a lot. Falin doesn't have a lot of earthly attachments, but when she does, they're her world.
In canon her arc, especially post-canon, is to grow beyond Marcille and Laios. Her caring for her close loved ones held her back from looking after her own self-fulfillment needs. And this is what I mean when I say she cares too much; she could gain from caring more about the world besides Laios and Marcille, both lands wise and people wise. She cares too little, but her arc centers her flaw around caring too much instead. Her pitfalls that Kui highlight over the course of the story, while of course her selflessness is appreciated for how she saved Laios and everyone, on a personal level is shown to be self-effacing and damaging. She’s undermined by Marcille, without the courage to voice her thoughts and wants, she would dedicate her whole life to Laios. And I mean, it’s text, in the response to Shuro’s proposal extra no less. And she’s so laser focused on her most loved people that she’s fine with being callous and risking others’ lives, even.
Post-canon, she needs to leave to find herself, away from them.
Herself. What if she wants to just be with herself for a while.
And this is me reaching but I feel like, not unlike Izutsumi who learns to feel this sense of never being alone, always having someone on your side what with having two souls, the dragon in her would make her consider herself more. She finds it easier to care after other people after all, and in the purgatory fields sequence she takes care to bring the bit of dragon left with her… Not unlike with Izutsumi, having two souls forces you to think about your identity and figure yourself out. Besides being this sort of duo now, where if she wants to care after herself she can channel it to that other side of her too… In meta dragons are symbols of greed, and I think the bit of dragon would push her to want more and listen more to her desires, primal and self-serving as they might be. The dragon soul which warped her human body with feathers and draconic features, her image of perfection marred, her weirdness externalized in a way that’s not palatable. But she doesn’t care, about if her appearance is palatable for most people, she hasn’t for a while now, and that’s great.
Notes & nuance
I’m struggling with the structure of this post, making my points organized, concise and strong at once. It’s difficult to make any statement without going "things are generally like this, but there’s this time that this contradicting thing happened too" or "it’s ambiguous enough that you should just follow my interpretation for the time of this analysis" haha, so this is the pit where I put all the stuff that wouldn’t fit well in other places but are interesting for Falin’s character. This section is pretty separate from the main thesis of the post, it’s just more Falin observations. The post has reached the 30 pics limit so I can’t just pull it up whenever it’s relevant but I really encourage scrolling up to read the stuff I highlighted in her Adventurer’s Bible profile if you haven’t already.
I think with the shy-looking loner type autistic kid archetype, and knowing she didn’t seem to mind others ostracizing her, it’s easy to lose sight of how she was by no means an unemotional child. In all the bits we see of her as a kid she’s bursting with energy and emotions. Canon confirms Laios leaving the village did affect her and make her lonely and she cried a lot, too. She may not be social in the traditional sense, but she was clingy with her brother, and she also never was all that shy about who she was, wearing her heart on her sleeve.And okay. Okay okay okay. Speaking of appearances. About what I said of her not caring about what people think of her, even seeming defiant with the caravan leader… There’s one istanxe of her caring actually, and it’s about how her face blushes easily. I remembered it as being because Laios’ said it and as I rambled Laios’ words are her world, but actually it’s ambiguous. It’s only Marcille imagining up this scenario where Laios says Falin looks weird because of it, there’s no evidence Laios said or thought that at any point. And on the other hand…
Her Adventurer’s Bible says: "5, Lovely Skin. She isn't particularly careful with it, but Falin's skin is fair and beautiful. Possibly as a result, her cheeks seem to flush easily. Marcille's always saying she's cute, and she secretly has a sizable complex about it." The phrasing makes me think the complex she has over her blushing might have developed because of Marcille more than Laios. "Marcille's always saying she's cute, and she secretly has a sizable complex about it." It could be related to how Marcille gets swept away and infantilizes her, calling her cute wanting her to wear cute feminine outfits etc. Again this feels like it relates to Falin’s struggle to be seen for who she is and what she wants to be seen as, her struggle to be recognized, having ideals and perspectives pushed onto her. Here Falin is insecure over her blushing implicitly because she doesn’t like being called cute over it, but that’s not how she wants people to see her. She doesn’t want Marcille to always see her as her 10 years old adorable friend. Like if your friend said you had puppy energy, it can be flattering, but it can also make you insecure.
Here’s a link to what I mentioned about her being uncomfortable wearing feminine outfits. It does seem to be more about comfort than the aesthetic perse, to me. Interestingly the shirt & shorts don’t seem like they show much more skin than her beach outfit, so maybe it’s more about the shirt and shorts being tight-fitting. Like the skirts and heels they feel stifling. Again a bit with themes of freedom and not wanting an aesthetic pushed onto her. So yes just to reiterate, I think this is more about self-affirmation and how her identity and self-image gets shown to others, rather than wishing to hide parts of her body like her blushing etc for people pleasing reasons. Makeup was a way for her to appear how she wants to and feel more confident. It was a way to take control over her own image. She didn’t keep doing it, the narrator stating the process to be ‘troublesome’. Ultimately she still prioritizes her comfort, and it was a lot of recurring efforts to go through.
And on the topic of appearances… A friend once asked me: "Does she really hide herself or not? I keep thinking about "falin is herself first and foremost" (in her Adventurer’s Bible profile) it’s just so. Hmmmmmmmm... I just keep seeing people say she hides her real self from people when I feel like the issue is more about her charitable traits straying too far into becoming flaws but people around her dont realize that..."
Imo the thing is, I don’t think she hides her identity, but I do think she suppresses her individuality for others’ sakes if that makes sense. In the way that only post-canon does she allows herself to go see what the world is like, but that’s not personality wise it’s needs and wants wise. And I do feel like that’s the closest interpretation of canon, she says it herself she doesn’t know what she wants because everything she’s done was always about Laios or Marcille, but she doesn’t change her demeanor or personality for others. But she *will*, like, not ask for things she wants directly, like sharing lunches with Marcille at the academy, she suppresses her wants, doesn’t ask things from people and doesn’t hope for more, hope for better. I don’t think we ever see her actively repress her personality, except like what, being more laidback than enthusiastic but I do feel like unlike Laios with her it’s less ‘appearing stoic to fit in more’ and more ‘yeah i’ll just chill until I’m needed or something activates my enthusiasm’. To which said friend quoted: "to feel like you belong you need to be useful. when you can’t be useful the next best thing is being convenient."
And speaking of passivity… I want to speculate about Shuro’s proposal some more. Shuro and her got along well though we don’t know how much, or how often they hung out, she even saved him from a nightmare. Why did she take so long answering Shuro’s proposal? Was it an effort to preserve or was she really just that conflicted? Procrastination probably yes, but what is the core motivation of itl Considering she ended up saying no to travel the world instead, I don’t think it was as simple as ‘she wanted to say yes for convenience’. Logically it’s what would have been best, but it’s not what she wanted for herself, but it was and still is hard for her to even know what she wants. Probably, since like she states it was a great offer and she doesn’t think she’ll get proposed to again, it’s that self-effacing tendency that yes it’d be convenient and logical, and that makes her want to say yes even if her spirit isn’t in it, because if it’s convenient then that’s more important than her feelings on the matter. Man also… Obviously Marcille is very vocal about how she shouldn’t get with Shuro, but imagine how Falin’s whole perspective on marriage must have felt when her only friend ever is a Romantic with a capital R who gushes about idealized romances and grand gestures and True Love and doing things with fully pure feelings all the time.
AND speaking of passivity!!! How much Falin is "there" as the chimera, just how much she’s master of her actions, is left ambiguous and intentionally so imo, but she’s for sure there & influencing the dragon’s action to some degree. Having a dragon’s foot on her in purgatory that keeps her from moving for sure visualizes how it must have been like, but there’s Falin calling out to her brother Laios, there’s the kind attentions towards Thistle that are so Falin-like, and most explicitly there’s the Adventurer’s Bible stating "Even after becoming a chimera, she has a soul that's as kind as ever", which I honestly dislike, a fantranslation puts it as "Even as the chimera, her caring nature remains" and either way to me it feels like confirmation that it’s her giving those berries to Thistle. Now, wether or not she has the mental capacity of a chicken or something closer to human Falin, no clue, there has to at least be some kind of mind bond between monsters and the dungeon lord, compelling or forcing them to go along with orders, or calling her to him in distress like with the fight on the first floor. But yes, it’s interesting to wonder what it is that a Falin, with her kind soul but without her human mind, would willingly do. On her profile, she’s described as Thistle’s guardian and servant. The power dynamic between the two are very interesting, I already went into how it might have felt like freedom to her while being fake so I’ll reign myself in and just mention it again. She’s still at the heel of someone, only now it’s someone who doesn’t care about her back. Going from being cared for so strongly that it’s suffocating and they would defy death and the world for you, to being devoted to someone who has not one feeling about you besides your utility as a paw . She has all this care to give and to focus onto others and he has none to send back to her and I think that’s part of it. In a way, being left with only her own feelings and a void, without expectations or feelings or ideals pushed onto her, it might have been soothing in itself, and eye opening. But yes the way I think of it, her care for Thistle isn’t unlike the care she gives the ghosts.
Interestingly, the care she extends for the ghosts is sending their soul to a peaceful death, freeing them, of life and any earthly attachment. Take that as you will with the themes of freedom and burden of life and mind, immortality and becoming a warped version of who you were, and such and such.
But going back on the topic of connections and bonds for a bit, I think academy days Falin & Marcille is super interesting bc we’ve never really see Falin form a connection besides with Marcille and even that is kept pretty ambiguous. When was the point that Falin started seeing Marcille as a friend and seeking her out? When was the "I’ll lay down my life for you" point? I’m so fascinated by how she wanted to share lunches with Marcille but never truly asked, only made little "hey want this? I found it isn’t it cool?" gestures of showing things to her… It’s the only way she knows to ask, or maybe it’s the only way she feels comfortable to. In all the scenes of young Falin and Marcille Falin seems comfortable in her friendship with Marcille, but at the same time… I think we see Falin at her most insecure around Marcille, because she really does care about Marcille and what she thinks of her so much, and while Marcille is a bit of an unstoppable force tornado style (affectionate) Falin is something of a doormat. I’d usually say showing her berries was her earnest way to connect and be like "Hey bestie look at this! :]" , but there’s a real possibility that she was self-conscious and holding herself back.
Friendship and Marcille! Involving Laios into this too but, again with the autism thing of not showing you care in ways that others understand, Marcille being very overtly affectionate and clingy was so so soo important… Marcille keeping on hanging out with Falin and caring after her, and being undeterred/unbothered by Falin not always seeming like she cares all that much back in the conventional way, as in Falin acts nonchalant and a bit like she didn’t mind wether she was there with her or not during her outings to the cave dungeon. Caring and being clingy and so affectionate despite that in such a classic Marcille way is soo needed, because so often people will get discouraged by say, their friend not keeping in contact regularly/well, seeming disaffected or as happy-go-lucky as ever even if you haven’t seen each other in a while or when they’re alone, and yes there’s potential for a strong friendship there but someone like Falin won’t be committed enough to reciprocating attention the same way… I hope I’m making sense but yes this angle in particular strongly correlates to autism. And the way Marcille always initiates physical affection, both Toudens being awkward about initiating touch because they don’t know if that’s allowed, if they’re going about the social interaction the right way, if they’re allowed to ask that out of someone…
Another fun observation to make is about the 4 years Falin and Marcille spent apart. Marcille despite being of a long-lived race treated these 4 years of separation with more gravity than Falin did. Falin brushed it off very dismissively to say the least. But then you remember that the amount of time Falin and Laios didn’t see each other after he left the village was 8 years. Double the years, double the time. And that reminder makes Falin’s actions so starkingly understandable. Of course she wouldn’t see 4 years of separation as a long time if 8 years of separation with her beloved brother is her point of comparison. Of course she’d see it as worth it to leave Marcille for 4 years if it meant ending those 8 years instead, especially if she was worried about him (the reason why she followed him into his caravan job).
A friend always says that while Falin is the center of Marcille’s world, Laios’ is at the center of Falin’s, and I tend to agree.
It’s fun to think of how her career dreams had always been shaped by Laios, even when they were kids. Of course there’s how traveling the world began as a dream they talked about and shared, but there’s how he reassures her by listing cool jobs she could do like traveling exorcist, etc. And then of course, she gave up on her magic academy and career path to follow him and do odd jobs, etc etc.
I should go into the violence of Faligon more tbh, because I think there’s an interesting parallel to how she has no problem wacking things with a mace, wether a ghost when she was a kid or a walking mushroom as an adult. Something that often surprises fans when they remember, I don’t really want to get into the whole " Falin hates violence and hates seeing people in pain to an intense degree. ‘If you die do it somewhere where I can’t see’ style’ interpretation, it has some weight but on the whole I don’t vibe with the theory she has a particular aversion to violence, she seems to be fine resorting to it as much as any other adventurer as long as it isn’t needlessly against ghosts. And Falin’s sudden mace hits are fun to me too because it’s not her becoming a berserker when the need arises as much as her becoming active because something she cares about is threatened, and that brings her out of her passivity from 99% of the rest of the time. Thistle included. Falin always could be violent, she just dislikes senseless carnage. The Shuro party vs chimera fight is a bit ambiguous on it, because you can argue she only attached after being provoked, presumably offscreen as well while the ninjas went off to fight the harpies. Falin becomes the most active when she needs to protect someone, she has no qualms doing whatever’s needed for that, wether it be leaving the academy & Marcille without notice no matter the consequences or what her parents think, or teleporting the party, etc.
I’m working on a post specifically pointing out all the differences between Falin and Laios, but yes I think both of them selfishly desire freedom in different yet similar ways. Falin’s dark secret is "Ethics and risks are optional if it means I can protect those I love" like the teleportation, and Laios’ is "Ethics and risks are optional if I can be free of all this bullshit" aka humanity aka his wish with the winged lion.
Conclusion
Flighted birds have hollow bones. With freedom and wings there comes risks and sacrifices.
Tldr: Falin doesn’t care all that much, she’s very go with the flow. For example if someone hates her she doesn’t really care because that’d require her caring about what they think of her in the first place, and she only cares about her loved ones. She smiles, but it’s more a state of being rather than out of active goodness: she’s canonically very genuinely kind, but it’s more out of a general want for pleasantness than active care itself. She’s passive, and softspoken because that’s just how she seems, but she has no problem hopping into bushes or getting heated if something calls to her enthusiasm or calls for action and a hit of the ol’ mace. Her loved ones needing tending or protective is what makes her go from passive to active. That familiar autopilot mode of making someone the center of her world and following their every move is what made her so easy to be controlled as the chimera, even ferociously defending him with her life. Faligon is most interesting to me with the theme of freedom. She’s shackled to Thistle and out of her mind, but there’s also a sense of empowerment and freedom from expectations and society. She spends all her time caring for Laios and Marcille alternating that none of her care and emotional energy is left for others, including herself. So she had to get relieved of all of that for a bit, becoming the chimera so she could reset and recenter and remember that she, too, indeed, is there and an important part of her own life. There’s a way of caring after others that can be selfish, not unlike Marcille being overly coddling and not listening to Falin. In Falin’s case, I think it was so selfless that it ended up looping back around to erasing her sense of self. In losing sight of herself, that devotion becoming neither quite selfish or selfless but a fact of life and a state of nature, muddled by its lack of direction.
She’s sooo used to never being able to ask things out of others, you get the crumbs of affection and approval that others offer to you unprompted and that’s it don’t hope for more don’t ask for more. (Also reflected in how she follows her loved ones around without complain or personal opinions and how she’s not willing to rock the boat and affirm herself in her relationships like with Marcille during canon)
Falin cares so much, so much and so laser focused on her few loved ones that it blinds her and she loses sight of everything else, she ends up neglecting herself and the rest of the world. As Kui puts it, Falin is herself first and foremost. She just had to remember the importance of that.
-
I see her as an enneagram 9, which can be surprisingly accurate and fun to research through the lense of Falin. Excerpt below from this book, but like my god, good way to put it
That’s it, ty for reading. Even if it’s a bit of a mess, hopefully you’ll have gained a thing or two from it. Falin is a character hard to pin down, but it is very gratifying when you find the way that the puzzle pieces fit together right for your own understanding of the story. Fantranslation of the shuro proposal comic by @/thatsmimi here.
Here’s my spotify playlist for her if you’d like
Sometimes love is about letting go, a lesson a lot of the cast needed to learn. Self-love’s important too, and just like with diets we need a healthy balance.
#I find it hard to express myself right on the topic of Falin. Both because the issue is pretty vibe based and because we don’t#get that many moments with her. So there’s ambiguous scenes up to interpretation addressing a layered topic and like. Save me. Save me#As always falling down the rabbithole of starting an analysis about a specific facet and then needing to explain everything else around it#I’m doomed. I’m getting lost in the sauce.#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#falin touden#analysis#character analysis#meta#autistic reading#aroace reading as well. Sort of. It’s mentioned#The aroace autistic guilt of not caring back in the way/with the intensity you’re expected to#As always this is just my interpretation blablabla#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#She loves like a dog aka unconditionally and happy with eating scraps of affection and attention off the floor#Laios touden#he’s here too bc they are an unit#If you’re not capitalizing on the uncanny vibe autistic effect for Falin’s character u are missing an opportunity imo#Fairy’s child is written all over her. Her cryptic-ness is the point so why am I surprised she’s hard to fully pin down#Even with the graveyard scene it was Falin following Laios… Sob. Laios could feel responsible her powers were found out#I’d like to rework this at some point if i get better at structuring. I’m not satisfied by the level of clarity#Will 90% for sure edit stuff in if i find more to say.#Fumi rambles#Crazy style#I give a TLDR at the end if you’d prefer. It doesn’t have the like evidence/explanations alongside but it makes the main points i think
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Only you.
pairings: Agatha Harkness x Reader
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut, slight fluff, angst, hurt but with comfort, reader has chronic illness, death mentioned, slight violence, mind control, spoilers if you haven't seen Wandavision or Agatha all along, kind of canon, witch!reader, reader struggles a lot, Agatha is obsessed with them, g!n!reader, reader has a vagina, dry humping, degration kink, rough sex, oral sex, top!agatha, bottom!reader, lesbian agatha harkness my beloved.
a/n: first fic I've posted in months, god I miss writing long oneshots, the inspiration is to the fact that I'm obsessed with this milf.
Agatha Harkness had always admired you. From afar, there was no real reason why, unlike most of her motives, she’d always want one thing and one thing only; power. You on the other hand gave her something else much fun.
She was always going to be obsessed with power. That’s just who she is and who everybody else knows. But she likes to think you know her differently, maybe even better. She couldn’t wrap her head around it when she first met you, of course, your arrival in westview was unexpected. With others not hearing of your name in a while, where you have been, what you have been up to. She knew you liked to keep to yourself, it was a skill really. Especially in the witch world.
Yes, it added more energy to those names everyone admires or fears away from, for instance, every witch in history and till this day has heard of the scarlet witch. They've heard very little of you, but your name does travel around.
Since the Salem times.
Maybe you just didn't like the attention yourself, you were a silent one. Despite your magic.
Agatha knows that every witches magic reflects who they truly are on the inside. Just no one would expect it from you.
Obviously, she had checked the most obvious place, Westview. But there was no sight of you, she would have sensed your energy anyway, she just couldn’t feel you anywhere.
After finally returning back to her true self, not the “agnes” from the last three wasted years of her life. Her first thought was wanting to find you.
She used to feel you everywhere, now, it was just a memory.
She wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She knew her mind had been twisted and you wouldn’t have gone that far.
So why couldn’t she feel you?
Agatha started to panic from the worst case scenarios that could have happened to you while she wasn’t keeping an eye on you. Did Wanda do something? No, this doesn’t seem like something she’d do without a good reason. Unlike her, you actually made an attempt to be close to Wanda, to try and be her friend, you were casted the role as her best friend, it only made sense.
She hated that. Watching how friendly the two of you were, how you always were laughing around the other witch, how happy you looked. She wasn’t blind to how Wanda was very touchy with you either.
It made her sick.
If only she had the one book that made her feel more powerful than anything else in this world and it didn’t fall into the hands of her.
But was the dark hold really going to save her?
Why was she thinking so little anyways? Probably the side effects to what Wanda did to her.
She didn’t like it.
She needed to find you.
She had to.
There wasn’t really any reason to explain herself, just her feeling.
-
Sometime, somewhere in Salem, 1600s.
Your body ached.
Everywhere there was pain.
Constant, irritable pain. You couldn’t do anything. There was not much to do when you were bedridden most of your life since you were a kid. You didn’t exactly have the luckiest childhood, where you got to experience going to school, having friends, making memories, first love, first kisses. No. it was just seeing doctor after doctor.
You got sick easily compared to most children, there was never any reason behind it. Some thought it was the usual with the body changing, puberty, growth, but it was more than that. It wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to live like this.
Then one day, it got better.
You were still young, you had just turned 18. A big time for people your age. You were becoming an adult. And finally, for once you could breathe fresh air without feeling any sort of pain.
And of course, that was the year the Salem witch trials began.
On your birthday, you were to be trailed.
Then to be dead.
-
Somewhere, sometime, in modern world.
Times have changed.
There were no burning witches, no more trails, it was even considered more accepted. Instead now, they had guns, more firepower than before.
You’d much prefer the bullet to the head than being burned alive any day.
It was quick and effective. Well, if used right.
You should be dead. Even after your trial, you shouldn’t still be alive. Maybe you should consider being more “positive” . It's kind of hard to when you spend most of your youth in bed.
Now things were different for you, which should be a good thing, but it didn’t feel so. You worked, had your own place to call home, didn’t really bother making any friends, you didn’t care if people thought you were strange to be a loner at your age, you liked that.
Even so, you don’t even know your age. You know you were once 18, then you made it to your twenties or something, and then it all stopped. You didn’t have the ageing effect everyone else got. Witches aren’t immortal beings, though, we possess the power to live longer than humans, we still age, and look “older.”
You still looked like you could be a damn college student. And yet you didn’t feel like you were at all.
God, you were born centuries ago. You can’t even remember your birthday. You usually have to make one up to please those around you, so they don’t have another excuse to make you look even weird.
You didn’t really understand what the big deal was.
Sure, now, there were real life superheroes, straight out of the comics, captain america, Iron man, the black widow, Thor, whoever else there was, there were too many of them.
You wondered why witches didn’t also get this much attention as well. Hell, you could literally move things with your mind, okay, so can some special people with abilities, but they weren’t witches.
They weren’t born with the ability blessed to know witchcraft. Sure, it can be easily accessible, but only you yourself knows that part of you.
It was all rather complicated stuff really.
In all of your time being alive, there weren't that many people who moved you, not quite like her.
There wasn't just one her.
These women who impacted your life more than you could have imagined, changed it for the better or for the worse, you wouldn’t know. The names that were carved into your skin, so you could never forget.
You wouldn’t be able to anyways.
You never spoke of their names out loud, fearing that they would pop up at any moment, you knew that possibility would be low, still, you couldn’t help but wonder.
The connections you shared with them is what you miss the most. And their touch.
You sometimes still see her. Either walking outside of where you worked, in a crowd, in the train, in your apartment, staring at you.
Just in a blink of an eye, a flash of hair the color of scarlet would pass by, then hair dark as night.
It was a never ending torment.
You couldn’t get rid of them.
Even if you had the choice you wouldn’t.
It would probably kill you if you tried.
-
Westview, 2023.
When you arrived, it was late. Most of the residents of this town would have gone to bed already, not you. You wanted to introduce yourself, the new neighbour moving in, this town didn’t seem that bad, everyone so far was nice to you, welcoming.
Then you finally met her.
She came to you first, already expecting your arrival. You were surprised when you opened your door and it revealed a woman standing in front of you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.
“Hi! I’m Wanda, welcome to Westview!” she greeted with a bright smile, your heart immediately warmed at the sight, the sound of her voice soothed you, you felt so relaxed around her, like you already trusted her.
It was your turn to introduce yourself, you did so, shyly.
“What a beautiful name” she complimented with a chuckle, enjoying how flustered you easily got as you avoided her gaze, how you fidgeted with your fingers together.
“May I come in? I made chocolate chip cookies for my boys, I seemed to have made too many, I always go overboard with my baking. Here, try some, I hope you like them!” she grinned, handing you the container of freshly made cookies that made your stomach growl with hunger.
They were even wrapped in a cute pink bow.
You wondered how someone so perfect could exist and breathe the same air as you at the same time, you even questioned if she was really and truly real. But when she leaned in for a hug, you couldn’t resist, and you knew she felt real.
You didn't mean to end up in Westview, and yet here you are.
Wrapped around a certain witch's finger, who wants you all to herself, while she watches, from afar.
-
Shortly after meeting Wanda, you met Agnes.
Though you felt like you already knew her. From somewhere, sometime, you weren’t sure. She looked familiar. You didn’t get this feeling when you had met everyone else, so why was she different?
You soon found out why.
Not very long when chaos struck.
-
You were running, out of breath, you forgot why you were running in the first place. Were you chasing something or was something coming after you? No. You were heading somewhere. The town that was Westview, now turned to shit, as above you, far from your view, two witches fought. All you could think about was one thing only; fuck the dark hold.
Fuck whoever created that stupid overly powerful book. It had ruined everything for you, it ruined the ones you loved.
You couldn’t even do anything about it.
It was so powerful that someone like you couldn't withstand it.
And it was crushing everything you loved.
You wish you could burn it.
It turned the one witch who saved you all those centuries ago into something twisted, dark. She wasn’t always like that, not the woman you first met and knew, fell in love with, who saved you. Who would walk through hell just to get to you. She will still do that, just she doesn't feel the same to you anymore.
In her eyes, you still saw the soft Agatha hidden behind all that darkness. Her heart was tainted, you weren’t sure if you liked this Agatha now or the one you met, you can’t help but fall more in love with her.
And she knows it.
When she heard you cry out in pain, being thrown by the scarlet witch’s power, she stopped. You were her weakness. Wanda saw that.
How her eyes immediately went to you, how your body was in pain, as you groaned out. You were no match for the scarlet witch, so what the hell were you doing? She didn’t think too much of that, her main focus was Wanda, still she kept her eyes on you.
Only you.
Her heart thumped loudly in her ears, there was a loud ringing noise, she couldn’t focus, her breathing turned ragged, out of her own stubbornness, She flew to you, in front of you, you saw an angel, she was far from one.
She cupped your face, it sent a chill down your spine as you let out a shudder, wanting more of her, to be closer, as you slowly moved your body towards her, the best you can with whatever energy you had left inside you.
“No” she whispered, forcing your body to not move, you only managed to look up and see her face despite your vision going blurry, you were so so tired. “I want to make this right, I need to, for you, it’s all I ever want, I need just you, I shouldn’t have left you by yourself, it was cruel, a mistake, but I knew we’d always find each other again. From the vow we made all those centuries ago, now, close your eyes, I’ll make it right, rest, you’ll see me soon” and then she kissed you.
You felt yourself break out in a sob, this made you hate her, made you angry, as you watched her walk away, you couldn’t do anything.
Then everything went black.
-
Sometime in 2024.
Now you can breathe again.
Just a bit.
You have always felt like you were suffocating, or drowning underwater, begging, grasping for air. Your lungs tightening, your throat closing, you couldn’t scream, make a sound, it was the worst torture you’ve experinced. Until you had to watch your lover get erased and completely forget about your entire existence.
You would have preferred getting killed.
But the scarlet witch didn’t show mercy like that.
Even if you begged her.
You wished it was you who had their memory erased, but you remember every single thing that happened. How you got to Westview, when everything turned to shit, it was already going bad from the start, you saw reality break in front of you and everyone else.
You remembered waking up, Wanda was gone, so were her boys and Vision, and you had met Monica, who helped you off the ground in the first place, she was nice, you were grateful she didn’t suspect you to be working with the Scarlet Witch.
Even then you found she was trying to help her, instead of imprisoning her, she wanted to help everyone.
When you had asked her of Agatha, she was quiet.
“She’s… Agnes now. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know why she even apologised to you, knowing Agatha could have quite literally killed her if she wanted to, maybe she felt pity for you, how she saw it in your eyes of you felt for the witch.
Despite it all.
Now you were living quite nicely, the apartment building of where you rented your place wasn’t too loud even during the day, at night, you like to go on walks, enjoying the lack of people around, your neighbour had protested to you going out by yourself but you preferred it that way. You worked in a cute book shop just a few streets from your place, everyday you wake up at the same time, sometime sleeping in longer if you wanted to, as you always went out and got your favourite coffee, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. you’d come back home, slipping out of your work clothes and into something much more comfortable and outside there would be a beautiful sunset.
As you sit at your desk, drinking a cup of coffee, writing down your day in your journal, keeping track of everything that’s happened, adding down stuff you needed to get from the market, what you wanted to cook, or bake.
Then there was a sudden knock at your door.
Weird.
You weren’t expecting anyone coming over, unless it was your neighbour, who often was a bit nosy but she was relatively nice.
Letting out a sigh as you’d hope they would have walked away if you didn’t answer the first knock, but then there was another, it sounded urgent, strange. As you stood up, placing your cup down as you walked towards the door, putting on a smile, you opened it.
The air was knocked out of you in a heartbeat, before your eyes, you couldn’t believe who you were seeing, after all these years, how, why? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.
“Agatha?” you whispered, not wanting to say the name outloud in fear of her disappearing.
She bent down on her knees, her hand reaching out as you grabbed it, your hands shook, she stared into your gaze, helping you stand up.
“How did you… is it really you?” you asked with a gasp, she smiled, walking into your apartment, stepping closer to you as she didn’t let go of your hand. “How did you find me?.”
“My precious kitten, I'll always find you.”
Your heart skipped a beat hearing her voice again, it was real, she was real, her touch, her voice, everything.
You wanted to know how, but you didn’t care. She knew that, she saw it in your eyes, how much hunger there was inside them, your skin felt like it was on fire, you needed her.
“Kiss me” you whimpered, she closed the door behind her using her foot, as she grinned.
Agatha pulled you in closer, you smelt her scent, lavender, she always loved lavender. So did you. It became your favourite. You felt her hands grip your waits, as her lips kissed yours, you moaned, wrapping your arms around her neck. She groaned into the kiss, sending a chill down your spine.
She pushed you against the wall, her lips leaving yours as she kissed down your neck, sucking hard on your skin,causing your body to shudder, leaving a visible mark. You wanted more. You whined, pushing yourself into her more, she chuckled.
“Needy.”
You huffed, “you like it.”
“Touche.”
Her lips found yours again as she hummed, she was enjoying this, teasing you, your Agatha hasn’t changed not one bit. You felt her knee pressed in between your thighs, with the little clothing you wore to bed, you were grateful, moaning as you ground yourself on her leg. She chuckled, her nails digging into you to keep you still as you fucked yourself on her.
“So innocent, yet you fuck like a whore” she grinned, kissing along your jawline, her tongue licking your skin, as your head fell into her neck, you were getting close, she knew this, she wasn’t a stranger to how your body reacted around her, it was building up inside you, fast. You cried out as you came, embarrassingly quick, but she didn’t seem to care, as she lifted you up, you thought she would have used her magic, like she would have done, but you soon realised she didn’t have any.
Agatha didn’t let that stop her from getting what she wants, yeah, she feels more useless and powerful, weak, around you she gained a little of that power back, you made her feel powerful, beautiful.
She pushes you onto the bed, making you lay down on your back, her hands quickly pulling at your clothes as she rips it off, revealing your bare chest, as she admires you, you shy away. It's been a long time since she looked at you like that.
“Gorgeous, you’re so beautiful” she murmured softly, your cheeks heated up as you bit down on your bottom lip. You let her pull down your panties, she moaned at the sight, how wet you already were, practically soaking, your wetness dripping down your inner thigh.
She licked her lips hungrily, she felt like she was a starving dog, about to devour. She kissed up your thighs, using her hand to spread them more wide for her, she stared up at you, you watched her eyes darkened, you missed this, you missed her.
Your hands found their way to her hair, still felt so soft, you always loved running your hands through her hair, she pretended not to like it, but you saw the way she’d lean into you more, asking you to do it again without saying it outloud, she loved it.
Her tongue licked up your cunt, making you gasp as you gripped harder, she kept going, still fucking with you, even now, with her head in between your thighs. You enjoyed it. You didn’t want her to stop as you pressed your legs against her head, forcing her to stay there as she wrapped her mouth around your clit, earning a moan from you as more came out as she sucked on it, she didn’t let go until she made you come as many times as she wanted you to, she loved the way you tasted, how sweet it was on her tongue, as she consumed you.
Your body went limp as you had to practically beg for agatha to stop, you’d reach your limit, and she broke through. She pulled herself away with a wicked grin, your wetness all over her chin, as she leaned into you, kissing you, you tasted yourself on her lips.
You wanted more.
You grabbed agatha by her hips as you moved the both of you so that you were now on top, she smiled, giving a small laugh.
She reached up and cupped your face, her eyes set on you. “Is it your turn for a taste?” she whispered.
You didn’t answer, with a flick of your wrist, she was naked, as you went down on her, kissing along her skin, biting her, wanting to make her cry out.
You won’t stop until you’ve consumed every part of her.
#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness smut#agatha harkness fluff#agatha harkness angst#agatha harkness x you#Agatha harkness imagine#Kathryn hahn
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Part 4: Warning Bells
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)
(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)
Words: 6.1K
TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce
A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3
March 2033
Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team.
It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face.
The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up.
That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.
“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”
“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up.
“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”
“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”
Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”
“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back.
Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again.
Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too.
She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her.
“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”
“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”
“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes.
“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”
“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.
“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”
“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”
Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”
“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.
“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.
“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”
And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.
It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again.
“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs.
It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away.
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”
Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”
And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen,
“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”
Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend.
“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”
“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.
“Welcome home.”
***
Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence.
“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”
“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond.
“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way.
“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening.
“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously.
“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”
“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly.
“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”
“Oh you absolutely are.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”
They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”
“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana.
“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.
Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”
“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath.
“Hey-”
Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that.
“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”
“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”
“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately.
“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips.
The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”
Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”
“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.
She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is.
“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”
“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”
Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”
“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”
Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours.
“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”
“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look.
“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends.
“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”
“I’m not pay-”
“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”
“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”
Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”
The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage.
“You coming Azzi?”
“Mama, are you coming?”
I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them.
“Of course I’m coming.”
***
Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her.
“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”
Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger.
“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”
“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said.
“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly.
Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”
“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”
The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again.
“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly.
She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore.
Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate.
“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple.
“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”
“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did.
“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her.
“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh.
“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”
“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly.
“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.
“Don’t you dare-”
“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”
“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender.
“You started it.”
“Yeah Mama, you started it.”
“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever.
“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist.
“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.
“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel.
Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”
“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows.
“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”
***
Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames.
So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”
“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother.
“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her.
Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”
Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”
“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.
“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”
Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them.
“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently.
“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”
The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”
Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”
“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands.
“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch.
“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”
“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”
“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”
***
Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be. That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort.
Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas.
“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”
It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.
“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them.
Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”
And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt.
“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults.
Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”
“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side.
“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other.
“Perfect.”
And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years.
***
Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe.
The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this.
“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”
“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”
“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige.
“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"
Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”
“Steph-”
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”
Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”
“Azzi-”
“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes.
“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay.
“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”
“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake.
“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”
“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly.
“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”
“Az-”
“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”
Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”
“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”
“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”
Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”
“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”
“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away.
It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.
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⭒ the other woman
christopher sturniolo x poc!reader
summary: an angsty story of regret and selfishness told through different moments in time
warnings: alternate universe (takes place in the early 2000s bcs i’m obsessed), angst, implied sex, cigarettes, cheating (with, not on y/n)
a/n: hiiii srry for ghosting u guys again :/ i finally have motivation to write again!!! send in blurb or one shot ideas pls. unfortunately im putting tgwtt on hold for right now bc i feel writing that series takes so much out of me and i end up not enjoying anything i write. i hope u understand & im sorry to those who enjoy it! anyways i hope this is well received since it’s a bit different than my other works — lowkey tuned into my inner sally rooney bc her angst HITS . luv u baiiii
★ march 2004
there’s a vile and shameful look to you that you’re not so sure you’ve hidden well enough.
your stomach feels overweight and heavy with an extreme amount of pain bubbling and stabbing your insides whenever they decide to pop.
you clutch at the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at your figure and aching eyes (you added some dark eyeliner into your routine hoping to distract from your disdainful mood but you’re starting to think you may have drawn more attention with the dramatic look).
you suck your stained bottom lip into your mouth out of comfort or maybe a need for something to hold as you move to dig for the pack of slightly crumpled cigarettes in your small, wine-red purse.
the door handle begins to rattle unnervingly just as you spark the slim stick to life.
you comically still yourself in your exact position (bent over odd and cupping your hand around the cig as if there was any sudden wind to blow out your flame in your friend's classy bathroom).
"y/n? you in here?!"
your eyes widen first, before they eventually roll. you wave your hands around to cut through the plumes of clogged smoke in the quaint room.
“y/n!”
“someone’s in here!” you reply, taking another puff of smoke and adjusting your hair a bit in the mirror.
“you gonna open up for me?”
“ummm,” you sputter through the cigarette held in your mouth as you adjust your strapless dress with both hands in the mirror.
“y/n.”
you let out a soft groan and quickly smash the cigarette a few times against the french vanilla ceramic sink bowl, throwing what's left of it in the trash. you practically shove yourself against the tiny wall space to the side of the door as you inch it open enough for the two of you to gain a full view of each other.
you smile, “chris.”
★ december 2003
they say the holidays are worst when spent alone.
and despite having three siblings and parents who’d want nothing more than to spend their christmas eve with their son, chris has always preferred to spend the holidays with a beautiful girl — in hopes that she’d gift him the intoxicating feeling of her thighs tightly trapping his face by the end of the night.
so it’s shocking that he’s at your door step, dressed in a suave, ribbed white long sleeve, dark blue jeans, and somehow caught without one of his usual hats slouched on top of his head of fawn hair.
and it’s real fucking odd that you answer the door wearing a dress that fits you extremely well, paired with a cardigan to keep some modesty.
it’s so very weird given that chris has his girlfriend of over a year texting him another apology for abandoning their plans together to visit her family in wisconsin as you both share an intimate hug on your porch.
you try not to think it’s so unnatural for you and chris to go out for dinner, despite the fact that everyone in your small town knows he has a girlfriend who’s notably quite the opposite of you.
thank goodness chris keeps some casualty — leaving you to open your own door when climbing into his beloved truck.
★ february 2004
“okay, um, this is something you can eat and there’s, like, a million types- you like granny smith!”
“oo, apples!”
chris nods excitedly and flips to the next card, “it’s my favorite meal of the day.”
“breakfast!”
“yes, you’re perfect. alright this is casper the friendly-”
“ghost!”
“amazing! ‘kay, i’m always complaining that mine isn’t stiff enough.”
“your dick?” josh jokes.
“fuck off, josh! i’m more than capable…” chris laughs.
“gross! chris?!”
“what?! don’t make it a biggie. now hurry ‘n gimme that answer baby, please?”
“well i’m guessing it’s your mattress?!”
“you have 7 seconds!” nick says while intensely staring at the tiny hourglass.
chris gives an encouraging hand motion for her to continue on that path.
“ummm… your bed?!”
“yes! that’s what i’m talking about!” chris shoots up from his position, on the ground in front of the coffee table, and immediately picks liv up from the couch in celebration.
the group let out plenty of laughs and giggles at the fear in her eyes as she’s lifted up and down excitedly.
cassie yells out, “aw yay mom and dad!” when chris sets her down and kisses her lips.
you try to control your face. your eyes flicker over and see them smiling with their faces so close together. and it drives you a little mad that whatever chris whispered to make her burst into laughter can’t be heard from your spot across the couch, especially not when there are so many conversations going on at once.
it’s just a game. you have no right to be jealous. it’s fucking taboo.
you clear your throat and uncross your legs as you begin to leave from the leather couch, “matt and josh, you can go before me- i’m just gonna grab some water.”
★ march 2004
“smoking cigs again?” chris asks as he steps into the bathroom.
“no,” you lie, resting your hip against the edge of the counter.
he knows you’re lying but doesn’t bother to pressure the truth out of you, he’s not your father. or your boyfriend at that.
“are you doing okay?” he pauses and waits for you to acknowledge him.
you don’t.
he clears his throat, “you look beautiful in this,” he tugs your dress down showing off the cleavage you’d just got done hiding.
“‘m all good,” you answer his initial question while exaggerating a smile.
chris mindlessly nods his head and somehow gets even closer to you, to the point where you have to tilt your head just the slightest bit to make eye contact.
“can i kiss you?” he asks with a genuine glimmer of generosity in his eyes and tone; as if he wanted you to want it more than he wants it himself.
you’re silent. he holds your neck gently and raises his other hand to drag your large bottom lip downward, cooing a tease, “hmmm..?”
you whine a little to yourself — this can’t happen again.
“yes?” chris mocks a little, giving a squeeze to your neck, “say it.”
your eyes droop and suddenly the ache of pain and guilt melts down to a slush of excitement and warmth both inside and evidently outside, if the stickiness of your lace underwear says anything. you nod your head.
chris is so obsessed with your mouth, his thumb doesn't move from your bottom lip as you peek your tongue out to wet it, "yes, please." your words echo off of his lips that now practically hover yours.
even though you've used your manners you manage to deliver it as a command. and it doesn't help that you paired the sentence with your hands running up the hot skin underneath his dark shirt. his mouth hangs slightly ajar as his head nods softly once more and his eyes flicker over your pretty face.
you wait for his response before your eyes lock onto his and you pout, "i thought you wanted to kiss me, chris?"
★ december 2003
“that’s hot,” chris mumbles as he kicks his legs over eachother and stretches out on the longest part of your L - shaped, funky-green couch.
“what is?” you ask as you return to the living room, popcorn cradled in an oversized bowl against your waist.
“pamala anderson,” chris jokingly moans out, biting his bottom lip and covering his lower half with one of your fuzzy throw pillows.
“gross, you perv!” you throw a handful of popcorn at his face — that’s stretched into an adorable smile — and take a seat next to him.
“baywatch reruns are all that nbc play anymore,” you squint with a sigh, taking a swig of the cool bottle of beer chris requested before handing it to him.
“they lost the best thing to ever happen to ‘em, i’d milk that shit too.” he then takes a sip, smirking when a desperate pamala anderson begins to run in slow motion on your fuzzy box television.
“what would liv think of you drooling over some baywatch tits?”
“what would liv think of me replacing her with you for my christmas eve dinner?”
you can’t help but think that ‘replacing’ is possibly the meanest word he could have used.
he smiles and gives a soft laugh when your face doesn’t respond, “joking- don’t spaz on me now…” he rolls his eyes from you back to the screen in front of you.
you swallow and adjust your legs to sit underneath you, trying to get comfortable while remaining in your small red dress.
★ march 2004
“never again,” you remind chris and yourself as you step into your once discarded underwear.
chris nods his head a few times, replying when he finally catches his breath, “right.”
“okay,” you slip your dress back on and chris redresses himself away from you.
chris slowly comes up behind you, kissing your shoulder once and hugging you gently. you want to cry — because in any other circumstance you’d embrace this feeling. but you can’t help but feel dirty.
he whispers with his head buried in the side of your crowded neck, “you know your my best friend, right? i love you.”
and you can’t help the shivers and sobs that decide to escape from your sad, used body.
“shhhh,” he apologizes, “i’m sorry.”
★ december 2003
chris imagined having sex with you plenty of times before — figuring most guys have thought of it with all of their girl friends, at least his friends made it seem true.
though his imagination could never ever live up to your whines and the way your body effortlessly takes him as you bounce yourself on top of him.
you both knew this was a bad idea, it was bad before you ended up back at your place after dinner. chris is an admittedly horny drunk and you’re no better so sharing a few beers while sitting so close to each other was bound to backfire.
only in the morning would some ounce of guilt and regret wash over him, when he’d listen to the cheerful voicemail his unknowing girlfriend left him while he was busy with his fingers in your mouth.
★ november 2004
chris hasn’t spoken to you since you came clean to liv about your disloyalty, six months ago.
he yelled and cried at your doorstep. he told you that you ruined his entire life, that he never wants to see you again.
you convince yourself you never want to see him again, but you tend to miss him in the loneliest times. when you’re sat awake in your dark bedroom.
you still miss his voice and his face.
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#angst#sturniolos#chris sturniolo x black reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets fan fiction#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut
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doing Rennala’s fight again and I feel like I’m going insane because in phase 1 her eyes are golden, but in phase 2 in the illusion Ranni conjures of her, her eyes are their original teal blue. it’s not hard to put two and two together that the egg bewitched her and made her deep in that slumber state. So what drives me up the wall is… why on earth none of her kids help her … ? or why are there no item description even hint at them trying to help their Mother out of that state? or just items suggesting a close tie between them in general ?
I don’t think being locked up in a library enchanted by an egg is doing her any favour. This isn’t even the same as Marika’s situation where none of her kids know she’s locked up inside the Erdtree to even come for her, I’m pretty sure all 3 Carian kids know Rennala’s current state.
Is it because she’d go insane if they take away the egg? Is it because they want her to remain in that state and out of their way? Ranni stated she’d not let Rennala’s slumber be disturbed… is it because the only other option is an even worse fate ??? Is it out of protection for her or something else ???? I mean it’s a pretty popular fanon that Ranni must have hated Radagon, but all the stuffs she did later on… lowkey adds to Radagon’s favour through and through ? Keeping Rennala in that state, killing Godwyn who is the only support Marika has left after Godfrey and Messmer are taken away from her, like… ???
And I’m not even wondering all of these because I think Ranni is secretly evil or self-serving (& even if she turned out to be so… it’s fine!), it’s just things are not adding up and I’ve got ppl asking why I don’t really draw the Carian side often and … this is why? Since I already figure out the motivation and story that make sense to me on Marika & her G + M kids… the fact that I don’t really get the R kids at all results in me having no idea how to portray them in my art? Because I don’t really buy into the popular “oh they all love each other and much more wholesome than the Erdtree side” take at all …(and tbh my hot take for the past 2 years or so is that I don’t think Rennala is a good mother, and after the DLC… a good sister at all. But it is what it is)
#er brainrot#tldr; I don’t like how this side of the lore gives me too many questions….#so tbh I try to avoid touching them at all#but I did the boss fight again today and the questions come barreling back in my head
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- slow ride ch1
feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader
series masterlist | next chapter
warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation
a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee
wc: 2.2k
“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”
When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.
Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”
Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.
You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.
But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.
“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.
“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.
“No way in hell,” You say quickly.
“Please!”
“No,”
“Pleaseee!”
You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.
“…you owe me one,”
You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.
For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.
You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.
The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?
You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.
Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.
You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.
“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”
You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.
“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.
“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.
“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.
“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.
“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.
“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…
“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.
“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.
“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”
“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”
Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.
“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.
“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.
“it’s you, bitch!”
“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”
you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.
“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-
“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.
theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.
then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.
“wait, what’s-“
“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.
“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.
the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.
“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.
once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.
“So impatient, babe,” He grins.
“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.
You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.
“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.
“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.
It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.
“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.
“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.
You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.
You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.
“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.
He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.
“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.
Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.
“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.
He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.
Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.
#!my stuff#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#adam x reader#ok how do i tag this…#first man adam#first man adam x reader#idfk idc#!not sfw#female reader#this is like so cringe LMFAO#it’s ok tho idc😜
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A word of advice – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 1/?)
Y'all voted for this series, so here we go. I promise there will be lots of smut (you know me), but please show some love to this chapter which has no smut in it just yet. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?
Warnings: eventual smut, eventual CM violence, Aaron is an asshole here, authority kink, university professor x student relationship, each chapter will have its own warnings, for this one no warnings needed tho
Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (1.6k words)
Profiling 101 Series Masterlist
Chapter Two
With her eyes set on her phone, (y/n) entered the coffee shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled her nostrils, a comforting sensation that left her relaxing for a few seconds, though without ever taking her eyes off her phone screen. Her eyes kept following the sentences she had read numerous times in the past week, trying to memorise every single word, forcing the readings into her aching head.
It was the first week of the new semester, and while she had enrolled in a few classes with professors that were all too familiar with her, she had almost cried in excitement as she had stumbled upon the course “Profiling 101” – with none other than Aaron Hotchner as a professor. Without even thinking twice (y/n) had instantly enrolled in the class, filled with a giddiness she hadn’t felt in months, all too excited about meeting the agent she had been admiring for years.
(Y/n) could still remember the first talk he had given at her university, accompanied by Spencer Reid and David Rossi, men (y/n) had always looked up to, admiring their knowledge, their work. It still felt too good to be true that she finally got the chance to enrol in Aaron Hotchner’s class, needing to put on her best act, silently hoping that she’d manage to catch his attention.
She was too deep in thought to spare her surroundings any mind, still focused on her reading, not noticing the tall man standing behind her, impatiently waiting for (y/n) to keep on moving, to finally tell the barista her order.
“Excuse me?” His raspy, harsh voice shook her from her thoughts, blinking a few times before her eyes found his coffee coloured ones. A silent gasp left (y/n) as she realised that none other than Aaron Hotchner himself was standing behind her, staring her down as if she was a criminal he was about to interrogate. “You’re wasting our time here, could you please move along? And please, try to start your readings for my class earlier and not only an hour before class starts.”
Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak up, unable to explain to the man she had always looked up to that she was only trying to reread the texts, that it wasn’t the first time she was looking at it. But (y/n) only turned away from him, turning towards the woman behind the counter who shot her a comforting smile, all too aware of the harsh words the tall, brooding man had just spoken.
(Y/n) didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving her, speaking the same order she always got. Her heart was clenching in her chest, pounding with pain and embarrassment, forcing her blood to rush through her veins even faster than before, ears ringing in annoyance. With her eyes staring stoically ahead, she watched the woman prepare her order, pushing it closer to (y/n) as soon as she was done.
By the time (y/n) had reached for her order anger had managed to arise in her system, flushing through her body with quick steps, forcing her lips to part before her mind could even catch up with what she was about to say, “A word of advice, professor Hotchner. If you want your students to respect you, you shouldn’t treat them like you’re the biggest asshole they’ll meet on campus.”
Before Aaron could even try to pierce a reply together, staring at her with surprise tugging on his features, (y/n) had turned from him, stepping out of the coffee shop with a deep exhale of the breath she had been holding. The second the cold October air stroked along her frame, teasing her warm cheeks, (y/n) allowed her disappointment to thump through her veins, wondering if he was always this rude to other people or if she had just been the unlucky one to be met with his bad mood today.
……
If there was one thing (y/n) was known for, it was sitting in the first few rows, scribbling down every word her professors spoke. She was determined, set on her good grades, on the career path she had wanted to follow ever since high school. Not once had she broken her routine, not once had she found herself sitting in the last few rows, but today everything had changed, today (y/n) found herself hiding away from the professor who spoke without any emotions dripping from his words, one with the students that preferred to find shelter in the back of the big room.
Even though she knew that he couldn’t see her in the darkness filling the room, all light focused on him, it felt as if he was searching for her in the endless rows filled with students, eyes actively searching for the woman that had spoken with anger dripping from her words, fuelling the fire simmering inside of him. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding, guided by the embarrassment her own action had shot through her system, knowing that she’d think back to this moment for weeks on end – perhaps even months.
“I need you all to pay attention every week, it’s crucial for your homework, for the things you’ll work on this semester. I’d advise you to show up to every class, you won’t be able to catch up otherwise, especially not since you’ll get the chance to work on active cases.” A few gasps of surprises echoed through the room, and even (y/n) couldn’t stop herself from giving into the excitement once again filling her system. Perhaps she’d still get a chance to make things right with the man she had called an asshole only an hour ago.
“You’ll turn in your homework every Friday, you have time to upload it till 11:59 pm, you won’t get to hand it in later, once you miss the deadline that’s it. If you miss the deadline more than once, you’ll be kicked out of this class immediately. I need you all to understand that this class requires hard work, and as you hopefully also read in the description before enrolling, I expect you to have some basic knowledge about profiling, if not I’d advise you to quickly catch up, you’ll find a list of recommended readings uploaded to your online folders for this class.”
(Y/n) couldn’t help but focus on his appearance, on the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt that exposed his muscular forearms, on the black trousers that seemed to add to his height, making him appear even taller. He was handsome, a man one could only dream of, and yet (y/n) was no longer sure how to feel about him after their run in this morning, momentarily ripped out of the crush she had fostered on him for years.
“And one last thing before I’ll let you go, if you have any questions, you can always email me and I’ll try to squeeze you in for my consultation hours, but please don’t waste my time with questions you can find answers to online. I will see you all next week, please remember to do your homework.”
……
The second (y/n) had entered her apartment, she had opened her laptop, finding her way to the folder for this week's homework. Perhaps she still had some chances to impress the man, turning in the homework as early as possible, instantly getting to work. But while she got to answering the questions that seemed all too easy to her, her mind started to wander, thinking back to her run in with professor Hotchner.
Even at the first talk he had held all these years ago, he had appeared distant, closed off, though not as cold as today, not as angry and annoyed. He had grown older, and yet (y/n) could only think that he was even more handsome, she’d probably never get over her crush on him, on the man she’d dream of when the nights grew darker and the days blurred by all too quickly.
She could only guess that something must have happened this morning, something that had pushed him further into the misery he was guided by, foregoing any kindness he’d normally use to approach strangers. And yet (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she should email him, to apologise, hoping that she could restore the bad image he now probably had of her.
Driven by her need to make things right, (y/n) reached for her phone, typing away a kind though distant apology, overthinking every word that could paint her like a desperate student, hungry for the man’s attention. Before her mind could produce any worst case scenarios that would leave her even more embarrassed, she clicked on “Send”, hoping to smooth the waters she was sailing through, hoping that she wouldn’t sink only hours after leaving her safe haven.
It didn’t take long for his reply to find its way back to her, shaky hands reaching for her buzzing phone, eyes growing wider as she read through the reply that shot heat through her once again.
“A word of advice, miss (y/n),
Don’t go around calling your professors assholes. It’d be a shame to kick somebody who has a reputation of being the smartest student in her faculty out of my class.
Best, A.H.”
#Aaron Hotchner smut#profiling 101#Aaron Hotch imagine#professor Aaron Hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine
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leading lady - bonus 01. chemistry
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it was early in the morning for the call time for the ensemble, let alone it was too early for y/n. most of the time her fridays would be spent sleeping in after a week of classes but here she is, carrying 7 drinks for everyone to get them in the mood.
“if it isn’t our lead making a grand entrance!” dino had noticed y/n’s tired state, wearing a plain shirt and jeans paired with an oversized sweater hanging by her shoulder.
“let her do her own thing first. she’s not an early bird.” heejin was merely behind y/n who had the biggest smile as she walks down towards the front with the rest holding her own drink.
“i got everyone’s usual.” y/n placed the drinks on the other table, far from the papers that are needed for the casting call.
“unnie, how much do we gotta pay you?” hanni was ready to pay for her order but everyone just looked at her as if she was crazy.
“no need, han. think of it as a treat from me to get us in the mood.”
“you sure…?” a weak raise of a thumbs up was all the confirmation hanni got as everyone settled down holding their drinks. yunjin was going through the list of people auditioning and from their retweets, it gained quite the attention.
one thing everyone is aware of, im y/n has such immense power to the point no one is brave enough to say no to her. from a simple retweet of a post, the possibility of sharing a stage with y/n is enough to make people try and take a chance. some were merely side characters, the ones that only wish to see y/n in action - to see violet shine on stage. it was no surprise there were quite a lot of people auditioning for the leading lady, the second lead, and minor characters. a few familiar names did pop up, one of which are close to the ensemble.
yunjin isn’t one to waste time, the girl works hard and y/n could clearly see it. she doesn’t merely pick someone to play as the lead, especially if she knows she could trust that person to bring the same energy from the audition to the big stage. some would expect that the film major would be head of production for the play at the annual event - yunjin seems to fit the role more.
after the quick reminders, people slowly started entering the auditorium. the once quiet place now filled with noise, especially early in the morning; y/n questions how people have that energy when she could barely keep her eyes open. a short nap wouldn’t hurt, right?
before y/n could doze off for a short while, a power nap as one would say. a soft nudge then to a smack on the head was all it took for the girl to look up. she could only smile at the person who reminded her why mornings were bearable before.
“good luck later, boo. just don’t say the script in more than one language.” ryujin, her best friend, has always been supportive in the most unpredictable way possible. from being given a packed lunch with snacks to receiving an entire pack of her favorite candy with cut out pictures of memes of their friend group with notes to motivate. y/n in response flipped her off, only to make ryujin laugh at her.
“so, what unhinged motivational boost are you gonna give me this time, bae?” lia doesn’t pay much attention to the call signs the pair has for each other. it has been that way before they started dating. she’d rather have them have sweet nicknames rather than cursing at each other like in their private twitter.
“i don’t think i could beat the jyp poster from last year. so this time, it’s just a coupon to message me later to buy you lunch or something.”
“thanks, ryu. are gonna study while we do this?” ryujin could only laugh, if there was one thing people feared was that being judged by the pair. being blunt and not afraid to hide their expressions, who wouldn’t be scared and intimidated by them?
“it would be better that way, got an exam next week… i’ll see you later, bae.” ryujin gave a head pat to y/n who was much more cheery compared to earlier. lia could only kiss her girlfriend on the cheek as she finished preparing the set up for the ensemble.
“good luck with that and later, boo.” that was the best mood booster for y/n.
———————————————————
the ensemble had been too kind during the auditions, some were there to truly perform and get a spot somehow.
lily and lia were quite disappointed as no one could bring some of the characters they wrote truly come to life. no one could embody the characters written, not like how yunjin wanted to.
“danielle marsh is up next, auditioning for ariel, claire’s best friend.” soobin looked at the list that was now halfway through.
“dani?” y/n ears perked up, she’s one of the few juniors she has that has the same drive and passion as her. most film majors would choose to be in y/n’s positions rather than be on stage - but that’s just a preference.
“she’s good, i’m surprised she didn’t go for the lead role.” hanni picked up her pen, almost ready to give the girl a complete yes to the role. maybe that’s why they gave danielle one of the few scenes she has with y/n, the first audition with her participation.
“y/n, could you?” yunjin nudged the girl next to her, looking at the stage to see danielle smiling at them and holding the script. she stood up, which had people cheering, the girl who has everyone’s eyes on her finally on stage. where people believed she belonged.
“morning, dani. for formalities, kindly state your name and what role you’ll be auditioning for.” slight bow for formalities, a dazzling smile but not too much where it would be considered creepy, and a proper posture that shows power and authority. it was no longer y/n on stage but rather it was violet.
danielle was smooth in greeting everyone, and y/n could see her as the possible lead. she has the talent to do so, the knowledge and understanding on how to bring the character to life. taking a mental note by how she presents herself, she understands the sentiment hanni has.
“you may begin when ready.” yunjin’s smile has never been this bright since they started. with expectant eyes, y/n mentally prepared herself while danielle fixed her hair and her hold on the script.
“wait, you’re mal? the youtuber, right?” the delivery of the line was smooth, the emotion was there and y/n felt like it was the real deal.
“i don’t refer to myself as a youtuber but- yes.” violet has read these lines over and over, it seemed natural. the script is merely there just as a prop. people were invested, this is the person they were waiting for.
“what are you doing here?”
“i’m actually looking for claire… my manager is currently talking to the principal and-“
“WAIT! CLAIRE? LIKE CLAIRE ONG?! MY BEST FRIEND CLAIRE? THAT GIRL STANDING OVER THERE WITH A HOODIE ON AND AVOIDING EYE CONTACT?” yunjin was already satisfied by the short scene, even if it were just two to three lines, danielle already got her heart. the ariel she was looking for was brought to life by her.
“wow… thank you, danielle. we’ll keep you posted on the results.” as if it were a light switch, danielle was done with her role and is happy to showcase her talent. the younger girl smiled at her senior who could only return the smile and thumbs up. y/n isn’t quite the hugger but if it were danielle asking, she wouldn’t bat an eye for the sunshine.
“you did great, i’m rooting for you.” danielle has much more experience on stage rather than y/n.
“you’re quite the natural, unnie. and thank you.” but to danielle, y/n’s acting was nothing compared to hers. a wave goodbye and the ensemble were back to discussing their thoughts regarding danielle’s performance. all of them agreed to put her as ariel, if someone were close to the same performance she had given, maybe an understudy.
“this is the last for the morning session, then lunch.” lia was keeping track of everything and so far, they could squeeze in one more audition before they eat lunch. everyone was hungry at this point, having not much food or snacks within their grasp as everyone was busy with getting everything ready. y/n was about to sit down until, yunjin had asked her to go back on stage.
“kim minji, auditioning for the role of claire. one of the few that chose the leading lady.” who knew a name could make someone's heart beat faster than it should. or how clammy one’s hand can get. lia had gotten her phone ready to record the performance just for ryujin to watch and tease y/n.
y/n had gotten on stage, it had been quite a long time since she’s last seen the girl up close. everything feeling like she’s back in high school admiring the girl who she kept a spotlight on during her monologue for their play. the same girl that she considered a happy crush for years is now standing in front of her with a shy smile.
to minji, this is a dream come true, seeing violet in person again and not just passing by her like in high school. this is the girl that her brother mentioned seeing working so hard as a model. the girl who edits im nayeon’s vlogs and takes part in making them. the very same girl who she has brushed off thinking it was nothing but deep inside knows - she has a slight crush on im y/n.
there were some old sparks reignited. the feeling of being nervous and jittery around someone, to which both have denied and kept secret for how long.
to yunjin, this was perfection. given that the scene the pair was doing - realizing one’s own feelings. to yunjin, they look like a match made in heaven, they contrast in a way. even after minji’s short introduction for formalities, y/n couldn’t take her eyes off her. the vision is there, everything felt natural.
“ready when you two are.” it was like a snap.
“what’s taking you so long- wow.” y/n turned around to look at minji as if its her first time seeing her.
“uhm… does the dress look fine? it might be too much but it feels right but then again you’re the one paying and i-” minji’s character rambles on as y/n could only be mesmerized by the girl.
“wow… it’s-” the slow steps, as if y/n could imagine minji wearing the dress that yunjin had envisioned time and time again. the prop that she is most excited to see in person.
“too much? yeah maybe i should have gone with the other one.” minji acts as if she’s really wearing a dress, twirling around as if there’s a mirror beside her.
“it’s actually perfect.” y/n places her hand around minji’s waist to stop the girl, a faint smile and a blush on her cheek. maybe that was what yunjin wanted, the real y/n, not violet. not the girl in front of the camera, but the girl she met in her first year.
“you sure?”
“definitely, love… ly. I MEANT IT’S LOVELY, YES!”
the peace and quiet was shortly interrupted by screams and howling of the people watching the scene in front of them unfold. that’s the reaction, those are the leads.
the ensemble could only clap at the performance, yunjin having a large smile on her face as she immediately wrote minji as the leading lady.
they have chemistry unlike what yunjin has seen before.
taglist: [OPEN]
@awkwardtoafault @justme-idle @1luvkarina @bearyanon @khaepriv @lesleepyyy @yoontoonwhs @sserajeans @pandafuriosa60 @mightymyo @haerinkisser @ehcyps @urwy13 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @thefckghost @haerinsloverr
#kim minji#kim minji x reader#kim minji newjeans#newjeans#newjeans imagines#newjeans x reader#minji fluff#minji x reader#minji scenarios#newjeans minji#nwjns#newjeans smau#leading lady smau
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I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You
Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.
Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.
Ghost/Soap
---
“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..
“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.
“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.
“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.
“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.
“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.
Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.
Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.
If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.
“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.
“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.
“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.
“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.
“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.
“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.
“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.
“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.
“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.
—
The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.
“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.
“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”
“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.
“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”
“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.
“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.
Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.
It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.
“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.
“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.
—
He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.
To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.
Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.
“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.
“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.
“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.
He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.
When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.
“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.
“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.
“Never even met me.”
“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.
“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.
“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.
“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.
—
There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.
They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.
“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.
“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.
“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.
“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”
“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.
But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.
“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.
“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.
“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”
“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.
“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”
“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”
He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.
“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”
Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”
He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.
“The men involved?” he asks quietly.
“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.
“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.
“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.
“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.
“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.
“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”
He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.
If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.
He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.
The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”
—
Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.
He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.
They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.
After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.
“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.
“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.
“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.
“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.
“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”
“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.
“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.
“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.
“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.
“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.
“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.
But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.
“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.
“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.
“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.
“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.
“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.
“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.
“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.
“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.
And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”
“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.
“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.
“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.
“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.
“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.
“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.
And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.
Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.
“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.
“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.
And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost x soap#soap x ghost#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#my fic
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All That She Wants Chapter 5: Consequences
Series: All That She Wants
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake, Liam x Olivia
Word Count: 1,094
Rating: M
Warnings for this chapter: none
My other stuff: Master List.
Riley stared down at the plastic stick in her hands as a myriad of feelings washed over her.
Another negative test.
How? It had been 6 months since she’d first set her sights on Drake. They had been sleeping together regularly ever since.
Frequently even.
Disappointment and disbelief were the first emotions. She had conceived Ellie on her honeymoon with Liam. Xander had taken only two months of trying.
Frustration and relief were an odd combination, revealing her conflicted motives. Her original goal of procreation was being thwarted, and that was frustrating.
But another negative result meant she would have to keep sleeping with Drake. Not just sleeping with him, but basically dating him, per the arrangement she had agreed to.
She hadn’t meant to, but she found herself enjoying the dating part. It felt good to be wanted, to be pursued, wooed, romanced, valued.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear him until he was right behind her. “What are you doing?”
Her body jolted as awareness of her surroundings rushed back in. “Liam! I thought you had meetings all morning!”
“I did. But the Duke of Rothsford spilled his coffee on me and I came back up to change.” Astonishment crept into his voice. “Is that a pregnancy test?”
“It’s none of your business, is what it is!” She snapped as she moved her hand behind her back.
“Oh, I think it’s most certainly my business if my wife, whom I haven’t had sex with in months, is taking a pregnancy test!”
“Try a year and a half, Liam!” she bit back furiously.
He looked momentarily taken aback. “Has it been that long?”
“Yes!” She hated the tears that gathered in her eyes.
Liam faltered for a moment. He looked at her with compassion, his hand reached out toward her in a comforting gesture but froze halfway there. His voice was icy as he demanded, “Why are you taking a pregnancy test?”
“I wanted to see if I was pregnant, Liam, that’s why!”
“So, you’re having an affair?”
She gaped at him, the anger in his tone confusing her. “You literally told me that if I wanted another baby, to find someone else to be the father!”
“That was hyperbole, Riley!” Liam was shaking with barely restrained fury. “The Queen of Cordonia can’t just have another man’s baby!”
“Oh, but you can sleep with Olivia and ignore your wife, and that’s fine?”
“I—”
“Exactly. You’re a hypocrite, Liam. What if your mistress got pregnant? Then what?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Liv doesn’t even want children! She took the necessary precautions to prevent that years ago!”
“Wow.” Riley shook her head as anger replaced all the despair and sadness she usually felt when confronted with her husband’s infidelity. “You didn’t even try to deny it.”
His shoulders slumped as his fury abated. “I’m sorry, Riley. You deserve better than I’ve given you. I know that.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“I do love you, Riley. Things with Liv and I are…. complicated.”
“No, Liam, you don’t love me. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have shut me out. Something changed somewhere along the way, and you didn’t bother to let me know.”
“I’m not disputing that things changed. Our marriage became…stale.”
She wasn’t sure which emotion was more prevalent as she took in his assessment of their relationship. There was an ample amount of rage tempered by an overabundance of grief.
She had never stopped loving him. Had never stopped trying.
But the unvarnished truth was that he had left their marriage, at least emotionally, long ago, and there was nothing she could do about it.
For the first time since she had said I do, she admitted to herself that this was not the fairytale they had sold to the press. This was not her happily ever after and Liam was not her prince charming. They had been living a lie from the moment he proposed.
“Why didn’t you just marry her in the first place?” she asked bitterly.
“I just told you…. she refused to have children. I needed an heir.”
“So, you married me for my uterus?”
A defensive note crept into his voice. “You knew the terms. You agreed—”
“I agreed to the marriage terms because I loved you, you fucking unbelievable bastard!”
“Riley, you’re upset. I understand. But once you calm down—”
“No.”
“No? No, what?”
“No, to whatever is about to come out of your mouth. I’m done worrying about what’s best for you! It’s my turn, Liam!”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you have three choices. Either give me a baby, let someone else give me a baby, or let’s just get divorced and I’ll do as I damn well please.”
“Riley, we can’t just—”
“Those are your choices. Even the king can’t force someone to stay married to him against her will. Just imagine the scandal that would cause!”
He struggled to maintain his composure when what he wanted to do was throw things, yell, lock her in the room, and forbid her to leave it. Instead, he took a steadying breath and counted silently to ten before he spoke. “We said forever, Riley.”
“You promised to love me, Liam.”
“Who is it?”
“Excuse me?”
His voice was tight as he searched her face for answers. “Who are you sleeping with? Who is stabbing his king in the back?”
For the first time in their entire marriage, Riley had the upper hand. She gave him a self-satisfied smirk as she tossed the plastic stick into the waste bin. She crossed the room to the door, opened it, then turned back to face him. “You have two days to decide which option pleases you most, my king.” Then she was gone.
“Son of a bitch!” Liam picked up the nearest object and hurled it at the door that had just closed.
Glass shattered against the wood, as water and petals exploded outward.
Who the fuck had been sending her flowers?
He had barely noticed the vases of fresh-cut blooms that had changed every few days, assuming housekeeping had been putting them there to brighten the room. Now the certainty that someone was not just fucking his wife but romancing her took hold.
Something had to be done. A decision had to be made, and it had to be made quickly.
He pulled out his phone and quickly punched in Olivia’s number. “We have an urgent matter to discuss. I need you to drop whatever you’re doing and come to the palace immediately.”
#the royal romance#trr#drake walker#liam rys#trr fanfic#riley brooks#angelasscribbles#the royal romance fanfic#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week#choices stories you play#choices#trr fandom
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X☆☆GIRLFRIEND AIURA ☆☆X
I LOVE AIURA SHE’D BE THE BEST PLATONICALLY AND ROMANTICALLY 💗💗
she’s my fav tdlosk girl ♡
She’s so supportive!! Anything you dream of or want to do she’ll invest in it and cheer you on! She spend money to fund whatever your doing or if it doesn’t require money she’ll be there whenever you practice/train, etc! She’s your number 1 fan/cheerleader and will literally dress up as one if it further motivates you 😂🤗👍 If you get burnt out she gives you pep talks to keep going and believes wholeheartedly you’ll be famous one day! She can use her powers to check if you want? 😙
she’s very blunt- 😭 she says what she wants to say—when she wants to say it, therefore you will always get her honest opinion on something. Don’t bother going to her if you want her to sugarcoat something. Your better off going to teruhashi or chiyo for that 🤷♀️ But if you like straight forward constructive criticism, then she’s your girl! (Literally 😆) don’t get me wrong! She won’t only point out all the flaws in whatever your asking her for advise for, she also praises what you did good on!! <3 I mean she does give others advice on a daily so i reckon she’d be pretty darn good at it.
she love shopping 😍😍 (me too) even if you don’t like it ngl she’s gonna drag you on her shopping halls anyway. It’s not like she can push two carts worth of clothes by herself 😜 she makes you rate her fits out of 10 and models it in front of you before you do. You’d better be paying attention too! Don’t ignore her⁉️😤 (Or she’s making you pay for everything)
obviously she has a stellar fashion sense so if you ever don’t know what to wear, you can always go to her :) she’ll dress you up anyway if she thinks your clothes are too bland so don’t even worry about it at this point. 😭 you just gotta be on par with her taster in fashion!! Like?? How can she look good but her s/o doesn’t???? No way! Your both gonna look like stars 🤩⭐️
you’d best tell her your fashion sense too or else she’s just gonna make you a gyaru as well 😀 (for the record there are male gyaru’s)
she will fortune tell your future together to see if your compatible, she’s a really dedicated girlfriend so she’ll do her best to make the relationship work out. As seen with saiki in the anime, except she fails in courting him- but this time it’s with you and you didn’t fumble the bag so two are already together
if it doesn’t work out she’ll try and figure out why and change it! No way her and her for liferrrrrs/soulmate isn’t going to be together foe eva?? 🤨 wym?
shes pretty stubborn so she’s determined to fix whatever went wrong :P
if she sees a ideal future she won’t stop talking about it
she practically dreams of it 😭💗💗
she daydreams and fantasizes about it more than she realizes. If torisuka found out he’d definitely make fun of her- only to get kicked in to the land of no kids 😂🥋 (🤭😶)
you suppport her in her job, you take her out for a spa if she’s had a rough day. Her clients be getting wild. 😭 Your usually there with her but she’ll rant to you about it after she gets off work anyway because she just needs to get her thoughts out. Not that your complaining, she’s always coming up with the most ridiculous insults that make you laugh, so it’s not unbearable 🤷♀️😂
your gera (aura) looks the most attractive to her!! ⭐️😚 like, she can see them and everybody’s looks different right? Well she romanticizes you (which is ironic because she’s brutally honest if you ask me) so she’s naturally attracted to your aura. Will actively seek you out in a crowd using this. >:3 She’s likely scared you a couple times by the way she turns around, knowing your there, before you call her name….😃
She’s open to using her powers to help others, so obviously any favor you ask of her that require them is no biggie for her! 😼👍
will also use her powers to make sure nothing ever happens to you 😤💖 don’t worry!! Your psychic girlfriend will protect you!
(If it calls for it she’ll get saiki to help since he can do much more than her—maybe torisuka too if the problem is a ghost 😒)
you get to hang out with the psychic trio since she 100% told you about they’re powers 😭
well what did you except? she trusts you! Not sorry Saiki 😜🤷♀️
she makes a lot of money from her job and spoils you with it 🤗 Don’t worry about paying her back she said! Let your psychic girlfriend spoil you! >:D You want clothes? She’s does too!! Let’s go shopping! Your hungry? Let’s eat out! You pick the place ;) You picked up a new hobby and need xyz for it?? She’s bought it and sent the delivery address to your house 💋 (Call her when you open it!! :P 😤)
also for the record she 100% found out you were gonna start dating/accept her love confession through her crystal ball. 😅💞 She was so hype about it and couldn’t stop thinking of you. She did her best to collect as much info on you as possible from her crystal ball and others who knew you.
she probably gives you a nickname that you have a love/hate relationship with. One of those nicknames that annoy you, but only she can get away with it cuz it’s her- so it’s endearing <33
either that or a real cheesy pet name she won’t stop calling you 😭🤦♀️
“Honey-bear!~ come here for a second!”
you always end up running around—getting dragged in her ‘adventures’ while helping others. Saiki too, so he’s likely there as well. She just can’t fight the urge to help those in need! Idk if it’s canon but if it’s not, I hc her to be an actual empath 💗⭐️
Overall you lowkey love her rambunctiousness and especially how she’s not afraid to be herself 😭💗💗
Hopefully you guys enjoyed these hcs of my fav girllll!!!
I love her she’s SPECTACULAR!! 😍😍⭐️
#anime#anime and manga#luffyvace#anime headcanons#fluff headcanons#fluff#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k#the disastrous life of saiki k#tdlosk#saiki k fandom#saiki k x reader#saiki k headcanons#aiura mikoto#airua tdlosk#mikoto aiura#saiki headcanons#saiki x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#gn yall#gn guys#gn <3#gn s/o#i love her#fluffy prompts#fluff prompts#fluff stuff#fluffy#cute prompts
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DRDT EP 13 theories/predictions
figured I should collect all my thoughts in one place b4 the new episode drops…
Levi’s Secret
I don’t think Levi is the killer, especially not after the last episode. Given how he apologized for being unhelpful + derailing the trial, he knows what he’s confessed will cause a big stir but he’s confessing it to be helpful in some way, possibly one or more of the following:
1. He knows talk will turn to motive secrets soon with alibis exhausted, and wants to stop people from thinking whoever’s secret Arei had was the one to kill her before that discussion takes up too much time.
2. He wants to change the topic to motive secrets because he thinks one of the other unrevealed secrets relates to Arei’s murder.
3. The murder he committed is similar in some way to Arei’s death and he needs to confess his secret in order to share what he knows.
4. Or, because of the murder(s?) he committed, he knows more about bodies than Arturo and wants to share what he noticed (Levi autopsy guy from now on??)
While Levi’s almost definitely off the hook for Arei’s murder, I’m still a little worried for him though…
Ace’s (Almost) Murder
I’m really hoping we address this sooner rather than later, especially because I think it has to be relevant to Arei’s murder, since the common consensus is that they were both hung? I’m also a firm believer of the theory that someone else (coughcoughHu) tried to kill Ace and Nico walked in on it and saved him…
The Murder Method
I’m not going to go into a deep analysis of the evidence here, especially since other (smarter) people have already analyzed the crime to hell and back - I just figured I’ll put this here too with the rest of my thoughts. I believe that Arei’s murder was almost definitely done through a complex sort of Rube Goldberg machine, utilizing tools like the playground spinner (hence the tape) and heavy jugs full of water (hence the fish)… I don’t know who this implicates, but hopefully we’ll get more clues soon!
The Possible Culprits
I’m not listing off who I think it is based on who could have committed it and how or anything, rather, this is who I think is narratively the most suspicious right now, in no particular order:
Rose
I really don’t want it to be Rose!! But she’s been acting super super suspicious in the current trial and it’s hard to ignore:
- continuously pushing for people to vote/‘just want this trial to be over already’ (paraphrased)
- hasn’t fallen asleep once, I don’t think?
- keeps repeating ‘I was definitely asleep at that time’ when asked for alibis, instead of just saying no
However, there’s like no reason or motive for her to have murdered Arei, so maybe there’s another explanation…? (Accomplice!Rose??)
Hu
I’m convinced she was the one who tried to murder Ace, with good intentions, so it’s possible she switched targets to another bully? She’s definitely latched onto Nico as someone she needs to protect, whether or not they want her protection…
I know she has an alibi, but she brought it up a little out of the blue, possibly also to protect Nico, and Nico barely agreed with her (it’s also been shown that Nico will fake an alibi so as not to be suspected, which is technically fine since they weren’t the murderer so it just means they aren’t falsely suspected? But it also means they might just agree to Hu’s false alibi to get Ace + the class off their back, which Hu could be using to her own benefit?)
Overall, I’m still not sure about the possibility of this once since if Hu really did murder just to remove someone she saw as a problem, considering what we think her secret is, it seems more likely that she’d give up immediately, “sacrificing” herself for the “greater good”…
Whit
Honestly, I don’t really think it was Whit, but by GOD is he suspicious right now. But then again, he’s always suspicious, and it doesn’t feel like in a murder way? I almost don’t want to suspect him of being the mastermind… it feels more like a red herring (ba-dum-tss)
Other Misc. Thoughts
Secrets
I agree with the common theories on whose secrets are whose, especially since one of those theories has already been proven correct. I do wonder whether any of the other unrevealed secrets will prove to be related to the murder in any way, or if they’re just still unrevealed for personal reasons. Also, as much as I want David to reveal that his secret is surely actually Teruko’s, I think narratively he’ll probably hold on to that for another chapter or two (it’s not like anyone can disprove him…)
Ace
Given that Ace has been oddly quiet the last episode, plus I’m sure his reaction to Levi’s secret is gonna be… something, I think it’s leading up to one of two things:
1. Ace passes out from blood loss and talking putting too much strain on his throat.
2. Ace has a full-blown anxiety attack as the stress of the whole situation finally gets to him.
Teruko
I’m excited for Teruko to school us all on… something! Likely the murder method or the secrets… however, since this episode is the 13th episode, releasing on Friday the 13th, it also seems likely that something really unlucky is about to happen :(
☆ ☆ ☆
Anyway, that’s all! Actually wait hold on I should make a bingo card or something…
aaand here are some cards! totally didn't take me like an hour to figure out how to make or anything lol...
#this took 4ever i hope some of this is relevant lol#doing this keeps me from freaking out over what might happen next lol#drdt#danganronpa despair time#drdt theory#teruko tawaki#levi fontana#hu jing#rose lacroix#whit young#ace markey#nico hakobyan
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🎃 and the word I’m gonna choose is intertwined
Oh you menace! What a word indeed! What to do I said, what what what! Then inspiration struck and I thought oh daffi will like that… so I hope you do, let me know when you worked out what was going on… 😉
It hit 1k, you know, cos it’s me… so under the cut 💜💜💜 just for you and a few other select people …
First day at a new job and even now, even after all this time, all these years, all those jobs he still gets a bit nervous. Which is just plain stupid, it’s not like he can’t handle almost any situation he finds himself in. He has skills. And he’s good looking too, a combination that has helped him out of a tricky situation more than once.
The image reflected in the mirror grins back at him. A quick adjustment of his hair and he’s ready to go. He’s looking good, the uniform suits him if he does say so himself.
A firefighter. Who’d have thought.
It’s a new one for him, he’s not done anything like this before. Should be fine though, how hard can it be? After all Bobby does it and Buck, if the kid can pull it off he’s got no worries, and his own particular skill set might come in useful, might help save a few lives here and there. It’s one of the reasons Bobby’s been asking him to train for years and why he’s thrilled it’s finally happened.
Making Bobby happy is not however the reason he finally put himself through the Fire Academy, it’s not a noble urge to help people or save lives that got him to today.
There’s no altruistic motive behind his choice to join the 118. Ok, yes he’ll be saving people it’s true but he’s not particularly invested in ‘people’ per se, he is however very interested in his people. His family.
Ravi can’t ignore the feeling that’s been getting stronger and stronger over the last year. It’s a feeling that says he needs to stay close to Bobby now, watch over him and the others.
Things are changing he can feel it, lost things are starting to move around in the world setting off ripples he can feel in his blood. The first feeling started growing when Isabel’s grandson came home from war. She’d called him, years ago now, to update him about life and family and he’d felt the pull in his chest when she mentioned the boy. He’d been injured and sent home, was having to think about what to do with his life now. A later update brought more feelings, more worries. Apparently his wife was now gone and the words L A and firefighter had been mentioned. Ravi could feel a new path being set in motion.
Around the same time he was feeling more things around Buck too. They faded for a while and he’d thought things might be going to be ok but the stupid kid is a disaster magnet at the best of times and the feelings started to intensify again several months after firefighter Diaz joined the 118. It’s when he decided there was only one safe way forward if he wanted to keep Bobby and Buck and Iz’s grandkid safe.
Buck worries him more and more everyday, not that he’s said anything to anyone but whenever Ravi looks at him he can feel something the young man lost in the past hurtling towards his future. He can’t work out what it is, every time he thinks he’s getting a sense of it, it shifts, the flavour changes but change is coming, maybe more than one change.
The fact that it’s going to be a dangerous time for the people he loves is the only thing he’s sure of. At least he’s in the right place now.
“Hey old man. You ready? Bobby wants ya.”
Buck’s head appears around the doorframe to the lockers. He still doesn’t know why the walls are glass. Ridiculous decision. He meets the kid’s blue eyes with his most unimpressed glare.
“People will think you’re crazy if you call me that kid.”
Buck grins. “Yeah, well you can’t call me kid either…. Probie!”
Oh shit. He’s gonna have a field day with this isn’t he, the little shit. You don’t have to be a 100 year old witch to know that, the look on Buck’s face is positively evil.
“Don’t even think about it… I mean it.” Ravi’s warning falls on deaf ears. Buck winks and disappears from view.
Suppressing a sigh and regretting, not for the first or probably the last time, the day he let his life get so thoroughly intertwined with two different werewolf shifter packs Ravi Pannikar, Probie Firefighter and bad ass witch goes out to meet his new team.
He knows them all even if they don’t know him. The 118 - Bobby’s pack; Athena won’t be here, or Karen, none of the children but it’s the heart of Bobby's pack waiting for him.
Henrietta Wilson, Howard ‘Chimney’ Han and of course the menace that is Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley, a lost kid he found and saved who in turn saved Bobby.
And now there's Eddie Diaz too, not pack but a part of Ravi’s extended family, not that the young man knows that. He also doesn’t know there’s a spot of magic inside him. Ravi wonders if it’s ever helped him or if it ever will.
Bobby sees him and waves him closer. The 118, Bobby's pack, his pack too now.
All Ravi can do is hope he’s ready when the time comes because…
He looks at them, so welcoming, all smiles and completely unaware of the shifting tides and currents of life and magic surrounding them, pushing them into the path of change.
Something is coming their way, he knows that, it’s what his magic does. Senses, finds lost things and something is lost here, maybe more than one something actually and it’s heading right for these people.
Right now Ravi has no idea if that’s a good or bad thing but right now it doesn’t matter.
He walks forward with an innocent smile and an extended hand to introduce himself. There are many, many things he doesn’t know but there are als two things he does; one that he’ll be here when they need him, and two, that they are going to need him.
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Another chapter snippet pt 2
((your halloween gift sorry...))
“You’re a lot of things but I wouldn’t call selfish one of them.”
“Alright then since you know so well why don’t you tell me- what am I?”
“Defiant.”
“Defiant?” A strange laugh escaped her as she took a step back from the star. “What in the world makes you think that I, of all people, am defiant?!”
“I think that even though you and so many others tell yourself that you don’t deserve better, you don’t truly believe it. If you did then you wouldn’t want things to change. You wouldn’t hate yourself for not being able to accept it or berate yourself for feeling that you weren’t good enough. You wouldn’t want more not for yourself and others and you know that don’t you? That wish in and of itself is defying the very concept of the strict structure that your society seeks to perpetuate. But the people around you that’s become your world, have done nothing more than disappoint you over and over again so much that you can’t help but fear what would happen if you were to take that final step to leave it all behind. But you know it’s there don’t you?”
Shame filled her as she found herself unable to particularly answer before he continued, “In the king's perfectly crafted world of order you’re the entropy he fears. The one he’s tried so hard to convince the world never existed and that’s why he hates you for it.” He grinned an expression that had failed to match his words. “If I were your king, I’d be terrified of you.”
“If you were my king, I think I’d be a little more than defiant,” she grumbled, earning herself a rather hearty laugh from the star.
She hadn’t exactly been joking, but hearing his laughter was a nice change of pace, she’d thought as she smiled in spite of herself.
“I just don’t understand why you would make it sound like a good thing….” she sighed as his laughter died down.
“Isn’t it?” he smiled. “You’re a far more interesting woman than you think.”
Interesting. That was hardly a step up from amusing in her book. In fact, she wasn’t really sure what to make of it- would it have killed him to call her enchanting or tantalizing?! Eh, given what he’d said about the anti-love rules, probably…
But she couldn’t help but feel as if the star were studying her…for what and why was beyond her…perhaps he was still trying to figure out what to make of her.
‘Him and me both,’ she mentally sighed before wrapping the cloak around herself.
“Still…I can’t just up and leave my family like that…I’ve already given them enough problem as is and besides the culture and history of my family’s past and present is permanently ingrained into these lands….if I went to space with you. I could never come back here…”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
She took a deep breath.
What was the point of keeping all these secrets from him? If he’d ever had something of an ulterior motive then what could she do to stop him? Yes, she knew in the past she’d kept all those secrets from him out of a sense of shame and possibly responsibility given her…father’s job. But with all that gone, why even bother? He was bound to find out the truth at the fair which she was admittedly in no state to attend. If anything it was better to tell him now, so she could at least prepare him.
“Cepheus there’s something I need to tell you…”
“This kingdom, its monarch and its people…in its infancy, it was believed that when our king gained the power to grant wishes, that it attracted attention from elsewhere and monsters descended from the skies. Monsters that only the king could defeat and keep the wishes safe from….and ever since then nearly everyone in this kingdom has had a negative view of stars…
“A courtesy of the king’s imagination, I guess,” he sighed.
“Yes….” she paused, taking in the distinct lack of surprise look on the star’s face. “did…did you know?”
“I mean, sort of? Yes?” he tentatively shrugged. “But in my defense, Velius’s rambling, the king’s law of power exclusivity, and even the entire concept of the wish gardens leave very little to the imagination.”
“You knew about the wish gardens?!” she exclaimed as she flew to her feet. “How?!”
The star hesitated, nearly looking embarrassed before he admitted, “When I granted Julian’s wish he was still lurking around it.”
She gritted her teeth. “I meant to tell you sooner, I really wanted to, given how deeply ingrained those sentiments were into our culture but I just didn’t know how, not when I was the reason why you’d ever be stuck in a place like this in the first place…”
“You didn’t see them, did you?”
“See what?”
“There are several murals scattered around the kingdom, each depicting a battle the king underwent while protecting Rosas from…you know…so I just wanted to warn you about them in case we see them tomorrow…”
“I see…well…” the star started after a moment or so of silence. “I appreciate the warning Asha…”
She cast him a wary glance, unable to fully make out his expression as he stared at the cloudy skies above. “Maybe you shouldn’t go….”
“And let you roam around a new place with more possible assassination attempts?” he shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Cepheus! Didn’t you hear Velius? OR anything I just said about the kingdom’s culture and viewpoint on stars? Someone knows you’re here in Hamlet and they’re actively looking to find you. Not to mention that The king’s going to be unveiling the final mural soon for this thing he claims is going to be the ‘new era of Rosas’, so if there was ever a time for the nobles and common folk to be completely insufferable about the topic, then it’s now!”
“Final mural?” the star repeated. Now he sounded curious.
“Yeah, he claims it’s depicting the most vicious star he ever fought.”
“Did he say the name of it?”
She shook her head, “No, but come to think of it, none of the stars he’s ever defeated in any of the murals have ever been explicitly named, none save for…Alderamin.”
“Alderamin?” the star snorted. “He told you he beat Alderamin? Did he do it with a straight face or was he crying?”
“Well he didn’t tell us himself, but the royal playwright who usually gets all of his content approved by and tailored to the royal family made a whole musical number and play depicting the ordeal…”
“Was it good?”
“The song was admittedly catchy, yes, but I don’t think it’s going to be a tune you should be eager to listen to.”
“Fair enough!” the star happily beamed to her confusion. “But you know, the more I think about it, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you just so happened to receive an invite the moment I entered your life, do you? I mean the invitation did say that they were looking forward to seeing you and your guest, as in singular and not ‘you and your family’ or ‘you and your guests.’ They’re expecting you to bring someone in particular Asha, and I have a feeling that if you don’t, they’re not going to take too kindly to my absence.”
Great. So she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. What was she going to do?! At the rate at which things were going, she’d be lucky if the king banished her before the yearly storms rolled in!
But come to think of it, the star did have a point… The timing was oddly strange as was the wording… The singularity of ‘guest’ did imply specificity. A specificity that most likely was the result of the royal family’s suspicion rearing its terrible head�� She hadn’t known just when, how or why they’d put the puzzle together to figure out something was amiss with Cepheus, but now she was more certain than ever that this wouldn’t end well for anyone, excluding the royal family of course.
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