#so if you think I don’t follow you rest assured I probably am very aware of who you are and I enjoy your presence here because I’m a crepe

[corrodedcoughin]

Hi @fastcardotmp3 tagged me in the people you want to get to know better game (thank you btw, big fan hi🫨)

Favourite colour: green

Currently reading: children of paradise by camilla grudova

Last series: …st4, yes that means from last year. I’m so sorry I’m terrible at watching stuff, it’s a wonder I watched stranger things if I’m being honest

Last movie: in theatres was Barbie 🕺 and at home was spree (thank you @djosephqueery)

Last song: didn’t I - darondo on YouTube then I’m scum - idles on Spotify

Currently working on: nothing! Absolutely nothing! And not feeling guilty about it for the first time!

I’m going to tag @xstevex-world @ahhrenata @sidekick-hero @xx-fiction-is-my-realityxx @robbie-verse @resande and @inklessletter but no pressure for anyone, if you can’t be bothered or already done it or whatever just ignore me!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Could I request a fluff fic for Astarion falling for a tav reader who's a bard and an amazing singer? Maybe he can't sleep, so he goes for a walk and finds reader singing to themselves, and he sits and listens, slowly realizing how hard he's fallen for them?

Thank you so much for putting this in my inbox! I hope you enjoy!

Astarion x GN! Bard Reader

I used the songs Nobody Knows Me At All by the Weepies and Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls because I am a cliche.

  The moon glows brilliantly throughout the night sky and the stars don’t seem to realize how lucky they are that they don’t have to deal with feelings and masters and all the other terrible side effects of being a person. 

 In spite of his name sake, Astarion does not have the luxury of being blissfully unaware of the horrors life has to offer. It didn't bother him so much- he took each terrible thing as it came and rolled with the punches. Whatever it takes to keep him alive until the next day- it’s essentially his life motto. 

  Another thing stars aren’t burdened with- the need for rest. 

 Traversing into the Shadow Cursed Lands is the last thing Astarion wants to be doing and while he was already worried for himself, he found he has an entirely other worry weighing heavily on him. 

 Where in the hells are they? He thinks, its been an hour and a half now since they wandered off! 

 He is trying to not be so clingy and weird- you don’t seem to mind his company and his overbearing ness, but the others had been teasing him and he was rather sore about it. 

 They called him a lovesick bat amongst other things and he is not lovesick. You are a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. Granted, no one else needs to know that.

 Sleep continues to elude him as he waits impatiently to hear your footsteps walking back into camp or your scent to come rolling over him from the breeze.

  It’s probably only been 30-45 minutes- realistically- but Astarion has found himself becoming very preoccupied and aware of your safety. 

 You are a squishy mortal- your heart needs to beat and you need to breathe or he will lose you and he can’t fathom the idea of not having you by his side.

 His idle feet drag him to the forest, no longer able to sit and wait for you to make a reappearance.

 I just need to make sure they are safe, he thinks, because otherwise I am not sure they would keep me in the group- yeah! That’s why I’m doing this. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

 While most feel terrified of the darkness of the wilderness at night, he feels comforted and engulfed in it. He loves the sun, but unfortunately, at the end of the day, he is still a creature of the night and that is where he technically belongs.

 He supposes that’s another worry he’s had lately- an intrusive thought really- but what happens when this journey ends? You and the others assured him that they will free him from Cazador forever- Astarion even became a bit emotional when Gale said, “and he won’t find you alone!” when Astarion brought up the dangers of keeping him in the group. 

 You have rallied around him this whole time and stuck your neck out for him more often than not. The two of you have indulged in each other and been enjoying each other’s company, but right now he’s here and you may just not be attracted to the others.

 What happens when everyone gets back to Baldur’s Gate? He’s seen you in pubs before and playing so the bar goers can stay on tune with the singer. You have your own little following of people who crave your attention and while you have told him it all makes you uncomfortable- those people would be a far more appropriate life match for you than a Vampire. 

 Astarion’s ears droop on their own at the thought. He thought he got out of the childish elven habit of slouching his ears long ago when Cazador beat it out of him- you seemed to have brushed off some of the vines. It’s like old parts of a factory are slowly being restored and as it is, he finds pieces of himself he subconsciously knew were there, but are new to him again. 

 For example- he loves a good practical joke just for good fun. He bought a cushion of sorts from Mol and put it where Lae’zel sits- covered with a blanket. She sat down on the log for her watch as quite literally everyone was sitting down to eat dinner. He fell off his seat he was laughing so hard- it was worth being chased up and down a few trees. 

 He also enjoys dancing for fun- you dragged him around the fire during the night of the Tiefling party and taught him more informal dancing and less of the stuffy shit Cazador forces him to partake in. You growled at anyone who tried to cut in- it was rather funny.

 You are also quite the fan of the occasional shenanigan and he finds himself smiling at the memory of your baby hairs stuck to your sweat slicked skin as he kept watch for guards while you graffitied Vlaakith’s painting or when you waved at her instead of bowing.

 Life is fun with you- he forgot why people enjoy being alive so much outside of not feeling ravenous all the time. He feels alive with you and the idea of you and him never seeing each other again for your entire life scares him. He doesn’t want to stumble upon an obituary some time in the future and ‘remember’ the person who saved him.

 He wants to be at your side and it terrifies him, but it would be worse to be away from you.

 Feelings- it’s disgusting and he does not like it. 

 Your scent becomes stronger on a more beaten path and he feels his alarm bells going off- jolting in the direction he believes you are and praying that every God actually hears him as he silently begs for you to be safe. 

  Your melodic voice and the sound of the babbling brook melts the worry in his body. Astarion’s pace slows slightly and he feels that annoying warm glow spread through his body. 

  You are sitting near the bank with your laundry in hand- Scratch and the Owlbear cub are laying down together nearby, one of the pup’s ears upright to hear any intruders. 

 It brings him some comfort that you have Scratch and the little cub- he isn’t sure he would fuck with an Owlbear Cub or approach a Bard with a bewitching voice calling out into the night like a Harpy’s song.

 “When I was a child

 Everybody smiled

No-body knows me at allllll

 Very late at night and in the morning light

  Nobody knows me at all

 I got lots of friends, yes, but then again- nobody knows me at all-“

 You stop suddenly and stare up at the moon and Astarion is completely enraptured with you and your singing. He feels charmed and he is entirely okay with it. 

“I suppose that’s not necessarily true,” you say softly, picking at the grass and smiling to yourself. 

 Oh your smile- he feels himself slowly melt into the grass like a smitten school boy and his own grin dances across his lips. 

 They are talking about you, the thoughts sends shocks of happiness and twinges of guilt, your plan worked.

 He should be thrilled, but he could honestly give a shit less. He is too busy listening.

 “And I’d give up forever to touch you

 Cause I know that you feel me somehow

 You’re the closest to heaven, that I’ll ever be

And I don’t wanna go home right now.”

 If his heart beat it would be pounding in his chest right now. 

 Your face is so relaxed, but he adores the furrow of your brow as you concentrate on hitting all the right chords and remembering the lyrics.  The song is beautiful but he is certain it’s only because you are the one singing it. Anyone else singing a love song would make him feel nauseated. 

 Astarion feels centuries of heaviness roll off his body with every note and sweet omission of trust. 

 He is hypnotized by your lovely fingers plucking the chords and he feels the ghost of your hand in his- you had taken it in your hand while everyone walked through the forest. Your hand had felt perfect in his own and he felt like a young, giddy, new person again. You always make him feel like that though lately. 

 “And I don’t want the world to see me

 Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s meant to be broken

 I just want you to know who I am.”

  Astarion had lost all hope- truly lost it all- before the Mindflayers had kidnapped him. He felt more hopeful once he landed on the beach, but that hope was also laced with overwhelming fear. 

 Lately, he has been more present in his day to day. He is happy and full most days. He wakes up near you or to the sound of your laugh instead of the screams of his siblings or angry commands from Cazador or being yanked out of bed by either Cazador or Godey to be dragged off to the Kennels or Gods only knows where. 

 Astarion has actually been trancing for four hours straight without interruption these days and he even fell asleep a couple of times- his body finally feeling safe enough to completely shut down for a while. He woke up feeling stronger than ever and your heartbeat echoing through his ribs. 

 You had been more than happy to let him share your tent at night after he had barged into your tent after a particularly bad trance. It had been shortly after killing Nere in the Underdark and before entering the Crèche. He has basically been sleeping there every night since and he gets to enjoy your company- and all to himself!

 You with your wild morning hair and sleep ridden breath- it’s a gift he has never been given before. Astarion is grateful for every morning he has gotten to wake up next to you and you are alive- so vulnerable and warm with sleep. 

 He adores the way you tiredly blink at him as you become more aware of the world. You have begun to leave a sleepy kiss on his lips in the morning and he finds himself looking forward to it; and the mornings you forget, he steals a lazy morning kiss from you. It’s like Gale and his coffee, he can’t start his day anymore without that first kiss in the mornings. 

 You continue to sing- your voice strong and full of passion. Happy tears make your eyes glimmer and sparkle under the moonlight and for once, he doesn’t hate being a creature of the night because you make nighttime seem ethereal and lovely; enchanting and whimsical; a luxury to witness. Astarion is positive you could make even the most dingy corners of the world look beautiful from blessing it with your presence alone. 

 You finish your song and he decides he cannot take being away from you for another moment longer so he backtracks just a bit.

“Darling?” He calls out with a fake worried voice, “are you okay?”

“I’m over here!”

 With a big, stupid grin on his face, he half skips half walks over to your spot under the tree.

 You are delightfully rosy with blush and your eyes light up upon seeing him- Astarion doesn’t think that will ever get old. You are the first person to ever genuinely be happy to see him and he laps it up like Scratch drinks water after he has a fit of zoomies. 

“I am so grateful it’s you singing- I began to feel charmed and feared the worst!”

 You roll your eyes at his comment, but smile widely anyway and put your luteto the side, taking his outstretched hand. 

“I am so glad you find my singing appealing,” you say breathlessly, “I will have to work harder to truly charm you next time.” 

“Oh- you may consider me thoroughly charmed, my Sweet,” he presses a kiss to your forehead and you giggle, “anymore and I might become your Thraul.”

“That wouldn’t be good at all!” You exclaim, “you would agree with me on everything and it would be terrible!”

 Astarion throws his head back with laughter- it’s not even all that funny, but the way you embrace his personality and find it enjoyable fills him with so much joy. 

 You pull him out under the moonlight and he cocks an eyebrow at you- you respond with a cheeky grin.

 “Magistrate Ancunín,” you say sweetly with a bow, “I thought I might have seen you across the dance floor this evening.”

 Astarion smiles, “Ah! Your highness- how lovely it is to see you, my Dear. I was so hoping you may be here tonight- everyone else is so dreadfully dull, as you already know.”

“Believe me,” you roll your eyes and wave your hand, “none of them find my jokes or my stories entertaining.”

“Perish the thought!” He puts a hand to his chest in faux surprise, “They should all be sentenced to death!”

 Your eyes widen for a moment before you snort and join in.

“I so agree,” you snap your fingers, “there- it’s all been magically taken care of. I am the most powerful Highness known to the realms, after all.”

“Oh your majesty,” he pretends to be on the verge of feinting, “no one has ever done something so wonderfully romantic like this for me before- however can I repay you?”

“You could repay me by giving me this dance?”

 He hears your heartbeat race slightly and you look a bit nervous. It’s such a bizarre thing for you to feel. Of course he will dance with you. It would be criminal not to.

 Taking your hand- he pulls you to him and wraps your arms around his neck. His fingers greedily cling to your hips as you sway together back and forth. 

 You hum as the two of you have your foreheads pressed together and your eyes closed- the only individuals privy to the moment being the moon and the sleeping animals. 

 Astarion appreciates how your voice always reflects your feelings- the happiness in your tune is pleasant to his sensitive ears. 

 Eventually it’s the sound of the river that you both sway to and he barely catches your sentence.

“I am surprised you came looking for me,” you say with a yawn, “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

 He shakes his head, “I couldn’t.”

“Bad trance?”

“Something like that,” he quickly tries to change the subject, “why are you still awake?”

“I wasn’t able to sleep and decided I wanted to enjoy the moon and the ability to sing so freely,” you sigh, “Gods only knows when we’ll see it again.”

 Astarion hums in agreement- taking your callused hands in his and tracing the line of your hands. This seems to help you relax and it does bring him quite a bit of happiness to be able to help you relax as much as you help him. 

“I- I am really scared,” you look up at him with tears in your eyes, “I’m scared to go into the Shadow Cursed Lands. I have heard the stories and the lands are haunted by the cursed dead- people who had lives- who had stories.

“I am scared I could end up joining them,” your lower lip quivers so adorably, but he doesn’t like the words you are saying at all, “if I make one wrong move or we all get separated-“

“Stop,” he says, his voice thick and his chest heavy with an emotion he can’t identify, “I won’t allow that to happen. I can assure you that you will be rather irritated with me by the time we kill Ketheric- I don’t think I will be able to allow you to be out of arm’s reach.”

 He says it, but the actual reality of the comment doesn’t hit him until a couple seconds later. 

 Fuck.

 You smile brilliantly at him, “I hope you are ready for the same treatment.”

“I would be offended if you didn’t!”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that!”

 You lean forward and leave a kiss on his lips that takes his breath away- he follows you as you pull away, not ready to be without your lips on his. Astarion smiles against your mouth when your breath hitches- he loves that sound.

 And he is terrified to lose you.  

 Astarion fucked up his own plan- well okay, not really, but he did kind of. You have fallen for him, that much is obvious, but he was never supposed to fall for you! 

  The swaying continues- even as your body becomes heavier and heavier with sleepiness, Astarion feels like he’s dreaming and also simultaneously having a nightmare.

 He needs to rid himself of these feelings before they become all consuming- before he goes and does something stupid. 

 Maybe I give myself some space- sleep in my tent tonight? His chest tightens and he cannot breathe,  no, that won’t work. I- I don’t want to do that. I could push them away- get them to break things off with me.

 That thought makes him feel even more ill. Being near you brings happiness, comfort, and warmth- even when he is feeling extremely confused and uncomfortable with his feelings towards you. 

 You see the pieces of him he doesn’t often let others see and instead of despising him, you smile at his jokes. You laugh the loudest out of everyone- even at the jokes that maybe don’t deserve it. You are patient when he is grumpy, unreasonable, and rude. 

 You have become important to him- more important than he ever intended for you to be.

“Let’s go back to camp,” you say with a large yawn, “I need a little bit of sleep- we have a hell of a journey ahead.”

 Astarion helps you pick up your things and he carries your bag for you. You hold his other hand and you both chat as if you have spent years together rather than mere weeks- both of you grinning from ear to ear.

 You eventually wind up in each other’s embrace in your tent and you are snoring softly. Always making music as he likes to say. 

 The nighttime eventually pulls him back into his own trance, but this time, his trance is filled with happy memories of your adventures together with every melody you have ever sung prancing through his head.

[teen-comics]

finally making a pinned post!

Read more for updated account info (long tho) explaining where i’m at now!

First of all this account was originally dedicated to marvel comics featuring teen characters. it was born out of 15 year old me absolutely consuming everything featuring a teen super hero team after reading Runaways (something I sadly have the runaways tv show to thank for!)

that was 6 years ago…. im not sure how long i’ve had the blog but basically i’m an adult now and my interests have broadened. a bit.

now this account coverers yes, Runaways, Young Avengers, Academy X, Gen X etc etc but I also just love reading X-men in general my favourite run being Grant morrisons new x men and the main uncanny x men through the 2000’s. I don’t want to change the name because i’m kinda attached to it and also I can’t think of a better one ! so for now the very inaccurate name stays

I also watched and have since rewatched X men evolution and Young Justice and want to be able to post more here because I did the rewatch with my best mate over lock down and then didn’t post much about it probably because I still felt like this account should be restricted to comics! I don’t think that anymore, or that it should be restricted to marvel! obviously YJ is DC but also -

Fables! again I read the whole thing a couple years ago now so still struggling to actively post but again I want to engage more especially as Fables is like the smallest fandom ever and has basically been forgotten except by die hard fans and people who know Once upon a time was originally gonna be based one “some comic”

so this account covers a lot and don’t let the bio fool you, however, yh i still don’t get along with basically anything current and barely anything past the mid 2010’s i do try and I pop my head in sometimes to see what current marvel comics is producing but I clearly have a very big bias towards the 2000’s and some notable 80’s/90’s faves

(also disclaimer this isn’t any like “marvels gone woke” nonsense the “woke” parts of older stuff is what i love the most abd i sometimes think some issues are handled even better or more realistically than they are now, but i’m also aware the plenty is not. I am Queer, and leftist and that’s about as much personal info as i want to give out but rest assured I just like the vibes of older stuff)

I would like to dive into more DC stuff, especially 2000’s stuff if it’s as good as marvel was then. maybe even check out some of that batfam everyone’s always on about 👀

I want to use this account more, it’s not big and I expect a lot of people have deactivated over the years as a lot of people i follow have stopped posting as well but if anyones still here expect some crumbs of activity that will hopefully mean more posting in the future.

if not i’ll update here again in a year

[elecctricsugars]

indie multi-muse roleplay blog feat. a cast of WHIMSICAL characters directed by redward (they/he). mature themes present. 21+ MDNI. please refer to guidelines before starting a thread with me.

guidelines (mobile users can read them under the cut)✰ muses✰ starters✰ memes✰ blog roll✰ banned fcs✰

Guidelines:

*The following info applies to ALL of the my rp blogs

Multi-ship, multi-verse. Each and every romance played will be in its own verse, so rest assured there’s no infidelity going on between muses.

18+ only but 21+ preferred. 25+? Super bonus points.

I am very friendly but I have limits. I have had to abandon many blogs in the past, including recent past, due to stress from passive aggressive rp partners, self-pitying rp partners, rp partners who only liked me for the gifts I gave them, or rp partners who completely misconstrued information which I supplied for my own boundaries/comfort. With that said, I WILL HARD BLOCK WITHOUT NOTICE IF YOU HAVE MADE ME FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE FOR ANY REASON.

Do not follow me or interact if you think of yourself (the mun) as a satanist or if your muse is a satanist. Additionally, I would prefer not to write with muns who practice witchcraft irl.

I have three personal triggers, please respect them. They are: arachnids, throwing up, phlegm

elecctricsugars is sfw only. no exceptions. adult themes will still apply, though, so please be 18+ when interacting.

I’m not 100% comfortable writing from a woman’s POV, so I probably won’t do a lot of shipping with my female characters.

No god-modding

No killing my muses without plotting

Personals following my rp blogs will be blocked / unless ofc there’s an rp blog attached to it and I’m aware of this.

Minors, do not interact.

I use xkit rewritten, so I can trim posts for you- Just ask :-)

Generally speaking, I’m cool with doubles, same fc, etc. so if you have a twinning idea or lookalikes plot for a thread you’d like to try out, lmk!

All gifs used during rp are saved or edited from various sources and I do not claim ownership of any graphics/icons/gifs excepted where tagged: ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ; ᵐʸᵉᵈⁱᵗˢ

Please don’t use large gifs or the gifs search function. I prefer gifs in the range of 270 x 180. Same with icons- 270 or smaller.

Please don't use problematic fcs - I don't keep up with gossip, personally, but if you know they're problematic then please refrain from using them when interacting w/ me. I try to avoid drama at all costs. No internet personalities/youtubers. Some very close friends (people I’ve known for years) use the latter but that is absolutely an EXCEPTION to this rule. No singers/other either unless they also act. Again, old friends are an exception to this.

I will not ship the Hatter and the Hare romantically. Period.

*TO BE UPDATED AT MY DISCRETION

(last updated 7 Oct.)

[luna-writes-stuff]

Motion Sickness, Xu Shangqi

Yes, I wrote this out self projection. I myself have a very weak stomach and can therefor very easily and quickly catch motion sickness.

For those interested about what motion sickness is and what it means for me: Quick story of it, my stomach cannot stand a lot of motion, especially when my brain is unaware of the direction my body is moving in. I get nauseous and light headed and just feel the bile rising up in my throat. So when I go on long car rides for vacation and I cannot see the navigation, I could easily throw up in the car in a matter of seconds. When I sit on the wrong side of the car, I get sick. When I look anywhere else but outside in the car, I get sick. When the car is taking turns instead of driving straight ahead, I get sick. It’s really annoying and it’s still something I struggle with a lot. I get it on amusement rides, rollercoasters, boats; even when I just move around to quickly or too much. So when I was watching that scene in Shang-Chi where they drive to Ta Lo, all I could think about was how terrible I would’ve been in that situation. And it inspired me to write this (stupid as it may sound.) Yes, I am aware there is medication for this, but it happens a lot of the times and would I keep using and buying it, I would spend way more money than I actually need to. I only use it for long car rides and boat trips.

Fanfic, female! reader

Fluff, bit of angst

Tw: SPOILERS, motion sickness, description of nausea, lightheadedness, description of vomiting, rising temperature, half consciousness, self projected, description of losing consciousness (but not really), Shang-Chi being worried, established relationship, use of Y/N. Also, I could not find the script anywhere, so half of the dialogue is probably wrong.

Summary: When escaping Wenwu’s home, you join the ride to Ta Lo, even as you are aware that you get severe motion sickness in cars and most definitely will end up throwing up later. Shang-Chi knows this and tries to help, but you can’t talk nausea out of someone. Upon arriving in Ta Lo, you’re barely conscious and Shang-Chi gets concerned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shang-Chi asked, as you sat outside the car you just escaped in.

The ride from Wenwu’s home had been difficult to say the least. You got very nauseous in car rides, and you knew that, yet you wanted to be there for Shang-Chi when he would travel to his mother’s village. It was already clear it was not going to be an easy journey, but you insisted on joining the ride.

At the moment, you were catching some fresh air after the eventful car ride earlier. You forced your nausea down, smiling up at Shang-Chi.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” You assured, standing up and taking a deep breath in.

“You know you don’t have to come along.” He tried again, but you ignored his offer.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You insisted, walking back towards the car. Shang-Chi let out a sigh of defeat before opening the door to the passenger seat.

“Actually, Trevor was going to sit there. Seeing as he kind of holds the information and stuff.” Katy said, gesturing towards the man behind you two.

“He can do that from the back.” Shang-Chi said, but you shoo’d him, opening the door behind the passenger seat.

“I can sit here too.” You announced, sitting down before your boyfriend could say anything about it.

“Y/N-“ “Don’t Y/N me.” You interrupted. “If I get sick, it’s my own damn fault.”

He groaned before stepping in on the other side, his sister seated between the two of you.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, looking towards you with a worried glance.

“She gets sick in car rides.” Shang-Chi announced, putting on his seatbelt.

“Don’t worry.” You reassured her, “If I’m going to throw up, I’m going to aim for Shang-Chi. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to throw up?” She questioned, frowning at the statement.

“I’ll try not to, if it’s any consolation to you.” You offered, throwing off your jacket before bundling it up and letting it rest on your lap, holding it against your stomach lightly.

“I hope you’re strapped in. Morris tells us we need to leave now.” Trevor announced, simultaneously making Katy push the gas.

As you’re driving, Katy keeps a steady pace, causing a feeling of relief to wash through you. If this was going to be the pace you’d keep during the ride, nothing could really go wrong.

In front of the car, the trees suddenly started to separate, creating a road for Katy to drive on. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before.

“This is so cool.” Katy quietly awed. You hummed in agreement, staring at the greens out of the window.

“Morris says you might want to speed up.” Trevor announced, looking at the rearview mirror. Katy followed his look, before letting a curse word slip and speeding up. All three of you in the back quickly looked behind, eyes widening at the sight of the trees closing back.

You turned around the second you saw what was happening, not ready to move forward while looking back.

“Take a left.” Trevor instructed.

“When?” Katy wondered, sparing the man a single glance.

“Now!” He ushered.

Katy took a sharp turn at his words, causing you to immediately grab hold of the handle on the door. Xialing and Shang-Chi both fell towards your side, not having prepared for the turn. You let out a little chuckle at the sight of them, but stopped as the familiar feeling of nausea hit you again.

“Right!” Trevor instructed. Yet again, Katy listened to him, taking a sharp right turn as the woods split into two again.

You had yet to let go of the handle, but you figured it might the closest thing you’d get to grounding at the moment. You felt Shang-Chi’s eyes drill holes into your head, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you kept you eyes on the window outside, knowing shooting your glance anywhere else might lead to some unfortunate consequences.

“Right again!” And at those words, the car stumbled around. Your stomach started feeling heavy as your head grew lighter, but you refused to acknowledge it, silently wishing for it to be over soon. You knew what would happen. You brought this upon yourself and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were in this now and you would not complain about it.

“Left!”

The next turn came completely unexpected to you, causing you to lose grip of the handle and the jacket on your lap, your hands trying to hold onto the seat in front of you.

As the car was on a straight line again, Shang-Chi quickly leaned over, grabbing your jacket and handing it to you, before opening your window slightly, allowing fresh air to fill the car. He shot you a silent look before returning to his seat.

“Drive faster!” Trevor urged, looking in the rearview mirror again. The forest seemed to close in behind you in an even faster rate now.

Katy just followed his lead, pushing the gas pedal down all the way. The car was hurled forward as your stomach began to flip. You leant your head against the window, your jacket pressed tightly against your stomach.

“Right!” Trevor yelled, the wind that blew into the car now becoming louder than his voice.

As Katy followed his directions, your clothes began to uncomfortably cling to your body, your hair slowly sticking to your forehead. You felt the bile rising up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, knowing there was no way of stopping now.

As Trevor kept shouting instructions, you began to wonder when this maze would end. It had been more terrible than you predicted. Perhaps the nausea of the earlier car-ride still lay heavy on your stomach, which only increased with the current journey. Or maybe the fact that there were no blinkers or navigation used, made your brain confused and uncomfortable, leaving you with a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Had this been a bad idea?

Definitely.

Would you ever confess it?

Never.

“Close the window!” Trevor yelled to Katy, holding his hands over his ears.

“Do not close the window!” Shang-Chi shot after him, holding his hand beside Katy’s seat, leaving her unable to access the window buttons.

Your head rested against the backside of the chair in front of you, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, but with every following turn, you felt that uncomfortable substance rising back up. Your head felt too light to lift it now, but your stomach forced you to keep it up before everything would come back out.

You let your head fall towards the window, keeping it up in order to swallow everything down again. The sour feeling stung your throat, nearly making you gasp in uneasiness, but you did your best not to show it. The open window that provided you with fresh air, had begun to lose its purpose, now only filling you with a loud pounding in the ears, every other word suddenly passing by unheard. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on the one that clung to your jacket, that you moved your head.

Before even looking, you knew it was Shang-Chi, but there was little he could do for you now. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a bottle of cold water and a plastic bag. You gratefully took the offer, taking small sips from the bottle before placing the plastic bag on top of your jacket, just in case things would go sideways.

Your hands had grown all warm and soggy, nearly gliding off of the fabric. Your shirt was now nearly glued to your back. The hair you had refused to put up earlier was now suffocating your neck with a heat attack. You could feel the sweat of it fall down your body, making you move uncomfortably in your seat. A sharp ringing filled your ears, your vision showing black dots from time to time.

The car increased its speed suddenly. You had no idea what was happening, but you closed your eyes, not willing to look outside anymore. You needed your focus on your body, trying so desperately to maintain it.

Katy’s screaming disturbed the ringing in your ears as you felt an annoying banging against your brain.

And just like that, the car stopped moving. Heavy breathing was heard all around the car, but you had yet to open your eyes. The nauseating feeling was far from over. You figured it was best to continue driving before you would have to experience everything again.

“Everyone okay?” Katy asked, which went answered by multiple hums.

“Morris says to go right through there.” The man in front of you announced.

“Through the waterfall?” Katy asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer.

And then, the car was moving again. You heard the window beside you shut, but you made no intention to open your eyes yet.

“Y/N?” You heard Shang-Chi ask, but you ignored him, waving your hand towards him in a “let it go” manner.

How long the car had been driving afterwards, you did not know. You didn’t look outside, the earlier trip still heavy on your stomach. It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped, that your stomach decided enough was enough, and resorted to throwing everything out.

You were hunched over the bag in your hands, the vomit slowly leaving your throat, much to your discomfort. You felt two gentle, yet unfamiliar hands wrap around your hair before tying it in a simple pony tail.

Your body felt as if it was on fire, your shirt definitely drenched by now. You tried to catch your breath, but you threw yourself back over the bag before you knew it. A second round falling out just as terrible as the first one.

You could hardly comprehend the door beside you opening, followed by a hand slowly, but steadily rubbing your back. You kept yourself above the bag, even though you were fairly sure you were done now. You began tying it, but it was taken from you before you could grab the ends.

As you unbuckled yourself and stood back up, black spots appeared in your vision again, making you stumble outside, before forcing you to sit down, your back against the car.

“Babe, can you hear me?” You faintly heard, making you hum silently, leaning your head against the car too, your eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, the voice now nearer.

“I just threw up twice. What do you think?” You mumbled.

Your statement went ignored, a soft hand being placed on top of your head instead.

“You’re burning up.” He remarked, untying your hair and wrapping it in a bun instead, making you sigh in relief.

“Give me a few minutes.” You stated quietly.

“Can you give me that bottle of water?” You followed up in a whisper. It was quiet for a moment before you felt the cold bottle back in your hands. You finished it quickly, handing it back when you were done.

“Do you need anything else?” He wondered again, his hand softly touching your cheek.

“A cold shower.” You mustered out, throwing your head forward, making it rest against Shang-Chi’s chest. “And a few painkillers.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as his hand rested on your back, making you since slightly at the hot and sweaty shirt now being pushed against your body.

“Can you move yet?” He whispered patiently, letting you go, though he allowed your head to keep resting against him.

“Give me a moment.” You muttered, one of your hands falling to your stomach as if it would calm it down.

“That’s okay.” He answered, shifting a little bit before resting his head on top of yours, one of his his hands connecting with the one that was on your stomach.

“Xialing is doing the talking anyway.” He explained, his second hand falling to your neck and stroking it affectionately.

“Tell me when to get up.” He proposed, letting you pick your time and comfort.

You hummed in response, happy to be in his arms back on solid ground. You tried turning in your position, but your body quickly show down the idea, fresh nausea returning fast.

Shang-Chi understood what you were trying to do, luckily. He grabbed your waist, carefully turning you around, making your back rest against his chest.

“You’re drenched in sweat.” He noticed aloud, though that was the only thing he did about it.

Your head fell back in the crook of his neck, making Shang-Chi smile and rest his head against yours. Your hand tried reaching for his, even though you could not see anything right now.

“You want more water?” He misunderstood, his voice vibrating through his chest.

You just shook your head lightly, grabbing his arm and letting your hand slide down it until your hand connected with his. He squeezed it in comfort, before wrapping his arms around your body, holding you against him tightly, your hands toying with his fingers.

“I’m tired.” You whispered. “Do you mind if I fall asleep right here?”

Once more, Shang-Chi chuckled. “Of course not, babe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sinking into his arms, nausea slowly subsiding as your mind finally drifted off.

You were glad he had been understanding, instead of cocky and full of himself at the moment. He did not mention your stubbornness earlier or your stupid comments. And you were thankful for that. You were far too tired or nauseous to deal with these comments now. They’d have to wait until tomorrow morning. Besides, a cold shower was next on the agenda, whether Ta Lo had that or not.

Taglist: @wlfstxr

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out. 

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

[pinkteapotwriting]

hi!

I was wondering if you could write a smut with period sex with marauders? If you are not comfortable with that I totally understand and I’m sorry to make you feel bad :/

Marauders x fem!reader

Warning : Period sex, fingering, daddy usage, petnames

Word count : 1435

I hope you like it love *mwah*

---

It had been one of those weeks. You were feeling really low, and you took to isolating yourself. Politely declining to spend time with your loving boyfriends and taking some time for yourself. In other words isolating yourself completely. But now, now you were completely overwhelmed with the need for them. It was ridiculous honestly, and you weren’t sure why your emotions were all over the place. Now you had to swallow your pride and go apologize for being so distant with the men you loved.

Knocking on the door to their dormitory was much harder than it should have been, but you had to bury your shame and embarrassment to apologize. When the door opened you were met by a confused James. 

“Bunny? You know you don’t have to knock right? What’s wrong?”

You just stepped in and hugged his middle, instantly his arms were around you and rubbing your back in soothing circles. James cast his bewildered expression to Sirius and Remus but was met with a mere shrug. They didn’t know what was going on either. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

James separated from you and grasped your shoulders to stop you from falling into his chest again.

“Y/N, you’re scaring us. You’ve been distant all week and now you’re here crying and apologizing. What’s going on?”

Maybe you weren’t going about this in the right way. You grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. Remus had been resting against Sirius’s chest reading a book, but now the book was discarded and all eyes were on you as you sat cross legged at the foot of the bed.

Sirius intertwined his fingers across Remus’s stomach, resting on top of Remus’s hands as well.

“Tell us what’s happening love.”

“I’ve just been really sad this week and I don’t know why. I came to apologize for distancing myself and hoping you’d forgive me. I don’t even know what happened and I want to work harder at communicating instead of shying away.”

They all sighed in relief. Remus collapsed dramatically against Sirius, arms splayed out on either side of him.

“Jesus fuck, I thought you were going to break up with us.”

“No no no no no, I’m so sorry I made you think that. I love you all so much.”

James reached out with his arm and pulled you towards him, kissing the top of your head. The affection had you melting, and gravitating towards him without even realizing. You weren’t even aware of the process of crawling into his lap, and pulling him in for a kiss. But you were very aware of his large hands roaming your body. He smiled a cocky grin after pulling away, probably because your chest was heaving. He traced your lips with his forefinger. 

“Hey lads, how long has it been since Y/N has been touched, depending on if she followed our rules?” 

Sirius’s smile matched James now.

“Bout a week.”

“Oh poor thing.” Despite his words Remus didn’t sound that sympathetic. 

Their tones and unreadable expressions were making you much more aware of your desperation, of your need for them. You furrowed your eyebrows at the realization. 

“Oh bunny, don’t fret.” James' words did not have you any less worried. ”We can fix that for you, you’ve just got to do something for us first.”

It was ridiculous how fast they could turn you into puddy in their hands. James guided you off of his lap and moved up to whisper in Sirius’s ear, Sirius then whispered in Remus’s ear, which left you alone at the foot of the bed, emotionally and sexually frustrated.

Then suddenly they were side by side leaning against the headboard, staring at you expectantly. They were lined up in this order from left to right, James, Sirius and Remus. Sirius patted his thigh and beckoned you over with two fingers and you knew he meant business. So you crawled and straddled his thigh.

“What am I supposed to do?” Remus gave you your answer.

“Just move back and forth love.”

“Couldn’t we just-”

“No.” James' tone hardened.

You looked to Remus, but he just shook his head.

“Left us alone pup; we missed you. Now we just want to take our time.”

Sirius placed his hands on your waist and squeezed gently.

“Do you want me to help you bubs? Want Daddy to help you get off on his thigh?”

You were going to just nod, but the continuation of James stern facial expression made you know it was ideal to give a verbal answer.

“Yes please daddy.”

“Alright baby, just like this, remember?”

He led you back and forth against his thigh, catching your clothed clit at just the right angle. James grabbed hold of the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off, darling?”

“Please.”

James just stared at your chest in a trance, not realizing he was completely zoned out. 

“I think Prongs likes what he sees,” Sirius snickered. 

James elbowed Sirius in the ribs.

“Course I do, she’s beautiful.”

You whimpered.

“Pretty girl, you like being praised huh? Look at how wet it makes you, look at Sirius’s thigh. Oh.”

Oh? What was that about, now you were concerned. 

“What’s wrong Jamie?”

“Well-”

Remus held up a hand.

“Y/N, you know how I get kind of distant, emotional and irritable before a full moon?”

“Yeah? I don’t see what that has to do with- oh no!”

Sirius’s pants weren’t just stained with your arousal, oh no. Now you understood exactly why you had been feeling so low this week. Stupid fucking uterus. 

“Sirius oh my god I am so sorry!”

You tried to climb off of him, but his hands held firm.

“Don’t be sorry it’s okay.”

“Sirius let me go, I’ve gotta change.”

“Just a little longer please, you were so close and cumming will make you feel better.”

“O-okay.”

Remus quickly got up to grab a towel, and offered you his hand so you could freshen up in the bathroom. You came out wearing nothing now. James met you halfway and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“So pretty darling. C’mon lie back on the bed now.”

Sirius had changed his pants, and Remus sat against the headboard with a towel between his legs. It was intimidating spreading your legs for Sirius and James, but resting against Remus’s strong chest made it more bearable. Besides, once James had his fingers inside you, your embarrassment quickly subsided. Sirius was holding your hand now as James worked to pull an orgasm from you.

“That feel good pup? I’m sorry we didn’t keep a better track of things, but rest assured we’re gonna take such good care of you this week baby.”

You just nodded as pleasure took you to a different headspace, one where you could cast away all inhibitions in exchange for the three capable men who would make sure you were taken care of. 

Remus cupped your breasts; the feeling of his large hands brushing against your erect nipples only added to your bliss. And then, oh and then, Sirius rested his hand against your abdomen, situating himself perfectly so his thumb could lightly circle your clit.

The symphony of your moans were accompanied with the many praises of your adoring boys, anything to remove the possibility of embarrassment of the crimson towel below you. 

“So pretty love.”

“Fuck, being so good for us hmm?”

“You close love?”

They had missed you so much this week, and they really just wanted to make you feel good.

“I’m- I’m gonna.”

Sirius kissed the back of the hand he was holding while quickening his pace with the other.

“Come on love, we’ve got you. Let go for us.”

Any built up stress that was accumulated through that weak had suddenly dissolved. All you could do was sigh in relief when James and Sirius pulled their fingers from you, finally feeling at rest. God you loved them. But then James had a cheeky grin.

“You know Y/N, your cycle is basically lined up with Remus’s now. Does that mean Remus will be pmsing soon too?”

Remus’s hand collided with James' chest so quickly that it wasn’t the force of the impact that made James fall off the bed, but the shock of the speed. 

You could only giggle.

How did you manage to spend a week apart from them?

You’d try your best to avoid that in the future.

You watched Remus pull James in for a kiss by the collar of his shirt.

Yep, definitely wanted to avoid doing that again.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev  @agalandhermarvelobsession

[spectral-musette]

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

Directly following the Deception arc (Clone Wars Season 4 episodes 15-18), Obi-Wan asks for Satine's forgiveness for letting her believe he was dead.

Just over 2000 words, M in AO3-style rating, probably part of a longer work if I can ever finish it and think of a title.

. . . . . . . . . .

Obi-Wan had not protested very much when Padme offered him the use of her family’s lakeside retreat in the aftermath of the attempted abduction of the Chancellor on Naboo. He had, however, expected a slightly more modest structure than the sprawling villa he’d found upon his arrival. Despite the droids on staff, the place seemed empty, hollow, as though it still echoed with the voices and laughter of a happy family. So fresh from his undercover work, he wasn’t sure isolation was the best remedy for his rumpled spirits after the ordeal, but arrangements had been made, and he supposed he could make the best of it for a few days.

In some ways, he was eager to leave Naboo. The memory of Qui-Gon’s death still cut like a keen-edged blade here. But perhaps that meant he should stay, to meditate on his old grief.

Painful as that prospect was, at least it sounded more surmountable than returning to a Temple that had been mourning him.

He’d have to, eventually. Anakin’s (justified) expression of betrayal and Ahsoka’s wounded demeanor still stung, and he didn’t look forward to repeating these painful scenes with other dear friends, with Luminara, or with Quinlan. But until the GAR red tape was untangled (at least a few days), he was still officially dead, and granted all the freedom of a wandering ghost.

He felt a little like the ghost of his old self after a quick swim as he climbed out of the lake onto the patio by the house. He sat heavily on the flagstones, still warm from the sun even as the stars were coming out. The constellations of Naboo seemed startlingly familiar considering the few times he’d seen them. The span of nearly 15 years felt short tonight. Perhaps it was the mere stubble of hair on his skull, shorter even than a padawan’s. Perhaps it was the ache of his old Master’s absence. He tried to ground himself in the present; as he toweled off his wet limbs, the ugly burn scars from his duel with Count Dooku shone pale in the moonlight, and his face still hurt from the dreadful biotech that had transformed him into the Mandalorian marksman.

It was always Mandalorians, wasn’t it? Proof that the Force possessed a sense of dramatic irony that the brethren of the woman to whom he’d lost his heart seemed to continually haunt him.

The guilt of it weighed like a stone on his chest. The mission had dragged on far too long for Satine not to have heard news of his apparent death. He had hoped it might all be resolved before… Well, it had been an unlikely hope, anyway. Padme almost certainly told her immediately.

There hadn’t been anything for it. To ask for permission to tell Satine the truth before the charade would’ve been tantamount to confessing his feelings for her. Had there only been the censure of the Council involved it might’ve been one thing, but any careless word to the Chancellor’s staff could’ve proven disastrous for Satine and the gossamer-fine line she walked to keep peace and authority on Mandalore. He’d been keeping her safe even as he wounded her.

Just like the old days, pulling her out of harm's way, or shielding her with his body.

Only this wasn’t an accidentally scraped knee or bruised arm. Perhaps it was vain of him to assume, but he knew how deeply she cared for him, how intense her feelings ran…

He’d tried composing a message to her so many times. Even still in the guise of Rako Hardeen, when he caught a moment’s rest, he’d gone over it in his mind, lulling himself into an uneasy sleep as he tried to find the words to ask her forgiveness.

In the end, a forthright Forgive me, was the best he could muster, hastily sent to her private channel as soon as he’d gotten access to a comm unit at the conclusion of the charade. If you’ll listen, I’ll try to explain, but nothing will excuse what I’ve put you through. Know that I am so very sorry.

She hadn’t replied. He checked the comm unit again as he pulled his undertunic over his head, the rough linen soaking up the last of the lake water on his back, seeing only his own message, stark and insufficient.

He didn’t blame her, truly.

He’d slept since sending it, through the afternoon, reveling a little in the luxury of resting when he felt tired, regardless of the local daytime cycles. And he dreamed in disjointed flashes, mostly of her… her grief, her melancholy, her ire… of the glint of tears on her dark gold eyelashes, the quaver of anger in her beloved voice.

He wasn’t sure if he ought to just sleep again, now that night was here. Weary as he was, he felt he could sleep for days.

He heard the door from the house to the patio open. He didn’t look immediately, as it seemed likely to be one of Padme’s droid caretakers, there to ask if he required food or clean linens. But there was no whirring of servos, and the footsteps on the flagstones sounded too soft. He caught a whiff of an achingly familiar floral scent just as he turned.

She must’ve been too much in his thoughts already, his mind too clouded with guilt and regret and weariness to clearly sense her presence.

But Satine stood, silhouetted by the dim illumination of the house, resplendent in the scarlet gown she’d worn the night they’d met in secret on Coruscant, though her hair was loose about her shoulders, pale and shimmering in the moonlight. For a moment she was utterly still, then she merely raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a soft gasp.

He scrambled to his feet, keenly aware that this was not the state in which he wished to appear before his lady. His trousers were still sopping, his undertunic open to the navel, and his hair had barely grown in longer than the stubble on his jaw. But her eyes were only on his, and shining with tears. She took a few steps towards him, then swayed a little. He lunged to catch her around the waist; the last thing she needed on top of all the rest of the suffering he’d caused her was bruised knees. She twined her arms around his neck, and his knees gave a slow surrender too, such that the pair of them sank to the flagstones, wrapped in each other’s arms.

She touched his face, fingertips light along his temple, nails delicately scraping through the short beard on his cheeks, lingering on the cleft in his chin before resting on his mouth.

“I thought…” she began, but then choked on a soft sob as the tears began to run down her cheeks.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said instead, nuzzling his cheek against her hand and then kissing the palm.

“I am furious,” she assured him, tenderly. “I am incandescent with rage.” Her lips were against his, her breath uneven in his mouth.

He tasted it in her kiss, a fleeting note of bitterness and sorrow amid the heady sweetness of her relief and joy, the fire of her desire.

“I am so very sorry,” he repeated, abject.

“Oh, I hope so,” she replied, breathless.

As usual, Satine had the last word, as neither of them could speak for some time after that.

. . . . . . . . . .

She lay on her side, half propped up on her elbow, her head against the pillow and her hair spread across it in a tangle of pale spun gold. The bedclothes were pooled around her waist, and he deeply felt the intimacy and vulnerability they shared in that moment. He thought this image of her would be vivid in his mind for the rest of his days, however long that might be: the pale morning light on her bare skin, her flushed cheeks, the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, the soft swell of her breasts with her sharp, uneven breaths as she tried not to cry again.

Finished with his abridged account of the awful ordeal, he reached out to run the backs of his fingers along her arm.

“Say something,” he begged.

She sat up a little more, her hair falling across her face as she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away from him.

“It might be… easier to accept, if you’d done it for the sake of someone … worthy of all this pain. To protect Anakin or Ahsoka or Padme or…”

“Satine, I can’t decline a mission to protect the Chancellor simply because I dislike the man.”

“It isn’t a matter of dislike. There’s something… so… wicked about him. Manipulative and scheming. Don’t say it’s because he tried to put troops on Mandalore, and don’t you dare say it’s because he’s a politician.” She turned back to him, her gaze challenging.

“No,” he agreed prudently. “I won’t say that. I don’t disagree with you. He’s been a mentor to Anakin and to Padme for as long as I’ve known him, but I can’t help thinking it’s always been somehow for his own benefit. He steered Padme to get himself elected in the first place, and his grip on the office has been white-knuckled since. I can’t very well blame him for the war, but despite his lipservice towards peaceful resolution, the GAR keeps swelling its ranks.”

“I’ll blame him. Unfortunately, there’s no evidence to confirm it aside from my gut feeling.”

He placed a hand on her waist, his thumb tracing around her navel. “I’ve learned to trust your gut feelings. But dislike him, distrust him or not, my duty is to the Republic.”

He started to pull his arm back, but she gripped it by the elbow. He slid his hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

“What of your duty to me?” Her voice was quiet, but not without a note of beskar.

“Is it duty?” he asked. “I thought it was love.”

“Perhaps it’s very Mandalorian of me,” she said, “that we hold our most sacred duties to be to those we love.”

“Satine, I cannot put my devotion to you above the will of the Council or the good of the Republic. Not while I serve the Jedi Order.”

He almost expected her to pull away in anger or distress, but she shifted closer, pressing her face against his shoulder. “I know that. I’ve always known that. But it hasn’t hurt like this before.”

“Not since I left?” he suggested, burying his face in her hair and holding her tightly.

“No. Not even then. It wasn’t losing you, it was letting you go. This was… like I had died too.”

The guilt of it made his stomach turn. “I am so sorry, Satine. If there had been time to find another way… to spare you this…”

“The worst of it is that you knew how it would hurt me,” she accused. “And you still did it.”

“I knew,” he confirmed, regretful. “The Chancellor insisted on knowing everyone who was privy to the plan, and I had no time to even find the opportunity to disobey. I thought… the risk of revealing that you should be told…”

She let out a breath, hot against his skin.

“I think I’d have much rather run that risk than think you were dead.”

“If I’d had time to think it through, perhaps I’d have decided differently. But everything was snap decisions, and my instinct was to protect you.”

“And I can’t even be angry at you for that.”

“Of course you can be angry,” he soothed.

“Oh, what good does it do?” she demanded, lifting her head, fair brow furrowed. “Just wasting time quarreling when we have so little time together anyway.”

“Then you forgive me?” he asked humbly, kissing her forehead.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, stroking his cheek. “I know that I still want you, though.”

“Then I am yours,” he promised, kissing her fingertips.

“At least it’s not an offense that’s very likely to be repeated,” she reflected, shaking her head a little.

“Not very,” he agreed.

“I feel like I ought to extract some promise… some penance. But I expect you’ve punished yourself enough.”

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “The thing itself was terrible too. Not that I’m suggesting that what I went through can compare to-”

“Hush, darling,” she scolded. “It can be terrible on its own.”

“Sometimes I thought my death might end up not being a lie after all,” he said softly.

“Do you want to tell me?” she asked, her fingertips light across his brow.

He shook his head. No, he didn’t want to see how it would pain her, to think of him in danger, forced to behave as an utter villain. “Not now. Not more than I already have.”

She kissed him then, deep and ardent. “Then forget, for a while,” she said, breathless, her lips still brushing his. “Let me forget again. Make me forget.”

She hitched her leg around him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he shifted onto her, into the blissful oblivion where she was the center of the universe and the Force sang in resonance with their love.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter eighteen

Helloooo I almost posted this yesterday as a thank you gift and then I totally got caught up in schoolwork. Gotta love finals season am I right

Anywho, thank y’all so much for 1.7k followers <3 Here’s a long ass chapter that’s a good ol’ mix of fluff and angst xx.

Chapter Warnings: waking-up-together kinda fluff, no sexytimes but there are some ~suggestive~ comments of course, ANGST at the end (i’m so sorry), the end of this case is very near on the horizon

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Aaron wakes you when his first alarm goes off at 5a.m. It’s way too fucking early in your opinion, but you know he wants you to have time to go back to Emily and JJ’s room to get ready for the day.

Still, being woken by a kiss on your forehead is something you can see yourself getting used to. Not to mention using his chest as a pillow all night.

You tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, not caring that the both of you probably have disgusting morning breath right now.

He pulls away first, nudging your nose with his before he rests his forehead on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Good morning, sweet girl.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Good morning.” You close your eyes in your flustered state, burying your face down into his chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I want you to stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” you sigh, opening your eyes to bring yourself back to reality. Then, you hook your arms around his neck, starting to grin. “Same thing tonight?”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Depends on how much of a good girl you are today.”

“Ooh, a challenge,” you tease. “I dunno…I’m feeling pretty bratty this morning.”

You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him in warning.

“I’m just teasing,” you murmur, propping your chin on his chest, giving him your best eyes.

But he isn’t fazed. “I know. I’m keeping track.”

So, naturally, you pout. “Fine.”

“Strike two.”

“I have a feeling this isn’t like baseball. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Are you trying to find out?”

“Mm, maybe?” You grin, but, as always, the FBI Agent part of your brain comes back to life. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs soon, I’d say yes. But I probably should go get dressed.”

“Understood,” Aaron replies, a small grin on his lips too. “I suppose even as your boss, I can’t keep you here.”

“As my boss, we’re technically not even supposed to be in the same bed together,” you remind him with a snort, but seriousness comes over him. “What?”

“We still need to talk,” he says quietly. “Really talk about this, but right now I just want you to know...I don’t regret this. I want this. No matter the consequences.”

“Me too,” you whisper, fingernails gently scratching the base of his skull, your weak attempt at comfort. “Do you think there’ll be consequences?”

He sighs, and you rise and fall with his chest. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “If Strauss finds out somehow, maybe. I don’t know if keeping it from her until she inevitably finds out is better than telling her ourselves, but…”

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a small smile. “But you wanna do this?”

Instead of answering you verbally, he pulls you closer for a soothing kiss, coaxing all your worries away.

“I want to do this,” he says, knowing you need to hear the words from his voice.

“Okay,” you murmur, taking a deep breath. “What do we do about the team?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

You give him a tired look. “Come on. They know.”

“What?” He blurts, sitting up a little, taking you with him. “Rossi knows.”

“And Emily and JJ and Garcia,” you chuckle. “I didn’t even tell them. Emily saw us at dinner one night. JJ figured it out from the phone call a few days ago. Garcia just...knows.”

“What about Morgan and Reid?”

“Are you kidding me? Morgan knows. Have you seen how he irritates the shit out of me every day?”

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “He does it every day.”

“Have you noticed how he’s been doing it especially when you’re around?” You raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re our supervisor! I thought you were a better profiler than that!”

“We have a rule not to profile each other,” he says sternly, obviously a little butthurt that he didn’t see that everyone else knew.

“A rule that none of us stick to, by the way,” you laugh. “We just don’t voice it. But we do. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet,” he admits.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It wasn’t hard. I caught myself profiling everyone. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who does it by accident.”

Aaron only smiles. He’s amazed by you every single day. Sometimes he wonders if you even know how intelligent you are. If you even know the full scope of your mind. Maybe you don’t, maybe no one does.

“But anyway,” you swerve back on track. “I feel like it should be unspoken, but just...no PDA, you know? It’s fine that they know because honestly I think they knew before we knew, but let’s not make it a big deal.”

“Agreed,” he nods. “We still need to be professional.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, glad to be on the same page.

His second alarm goes off, the one for 5:30, and you groan, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Why does it have to be so early?” You mutter, your lips brushing against his skin as you speak. It sends a hot wave through him, one that causes him to promptly shift your body off of him. “What are you doing?”

“You need to go get dressed,” he says. “And if you stay here wrapped around me any longer, I won’t be able to let you leave.”

You grin. “Point taken.”

You roll off the mattress, fully aware that he’s looking at your ass, and at your entire body, marveling at the way you look in his shirt.

“Oh,” you say, doing a dramatic turn, watching his eyes very quickly move back to your face. “Do you have any boxers? I probably shouldn’t walk down the hall in just a shirt.”

He’s scrambling for a pair of his boxer briefs, the thought of anyone else seeing you just like this making his blood boil frighteningly fast.

“Thanks,” you smirk when he hands them to you. And you put them on in front of him, partly for a show and partly because the look he was giving you demanded it. “I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nods. “Try not to spend too much time gossiping.”

“Oh, please,” you shake your head. “They’re getting all the details.”

You’re out the door before he can even catch you, and you just know you’re going to get it later.

+++

Emily and JJ are on you as soon as you open the door, both of them dressed and ready, arms folded over their chests like Moms whose daughter stayed out too late last night.

In a way, that’s completely accurate.

“And where have you been?” JJ asks, fully entering her Mom persona.

“Uhm, a friend’s house?” You play along, trying to inch your way to the bathroom.

But Emily knows your move, and stands in front of the bathroom door. “Is this friend named Aaron?”

“...maybe.”

And the façade falls, because they both cheer, pulling you into a hug.

“Finally!” Emily screams.

“Finally, what?” You laugh. “The night before I was also in his room.”

“Oh, we know,” JJ assures you.

“Finally, you admit it,” Emily clarifies. “So...details?”

“So...we have to be downstairs soon and I need to get dressed,” you walk past them to your bag. After grabbing your clothes, you turn back around to find them still staring at you. “What?”

“You’re in his shirt,” JJ says, still smiling.

“And boxers,” you laugh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up a little. “Guys, don’t make this a big thing.” You pause, heading toward the bathroom. “He was a little upset that I knew everyone knew, and he didn’t.”

“How did he not?” Emily scoffs. “He can be so dense.”

You shake your head, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed and looking more presentable, Emily and JJ are finally getting ready, too. They still watch you like a pair of hawks stalking prey, though. You just hope they won’t make any comments later.

That’s wishful thinking and you know it. But hopefully the comments will be held in at least until you’re all on the jet, heading back to Virginia.

+++

When you walk out of the elevator with Emily and JJ, you find Hotch standing with Rossi, the former looking much more grave than you left him. And he’s on the phone.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, picking up the pace. You glance at Hotch, silently asking, and he nods. “There’s another body,” you fill in Emily and JJ, ignoring the strange look that Rossi gives you.

Once Hotch hangs up, he looks immediately at you. “There’s two bodies. Male and female.”

“What?” Emily blurts. “In the same location?”

He nods. “Same house.”

About this time, Morgan and Reid step out of the elevator, jogging over when they see the team’s faces.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asks.

“Two bodies this time, same house, male and female,” you explain briefly.

Hotch jumps in. “JJ: you, Reid, and Y/N head over to the precinct and get Garcia on the phone. Get her to find everything she can on these new victims.”

You nod, glad he’s not sending you to see anymore bloodied bodies. Just the thought has a chill running down your spine.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s hard not to picture Trevor’s face. It’s hard not to feel the thrill of the possibility of revenge. But you know that’s only the irrational part of your brain. You know you wouldn’t really act on those thoughts.

But they’re still there.

+++

Back at the precinct, you’re dialing Garcia and stirring a cup of shitty coffee. When she picks up, she sounds about as frizzed as you feel.

“Good morning, my angel sent from Heaven,” she sings, sounding far too bright for seven in the morning. “What can I do you for?”

“Good morning,” you chuckle. “We’ve got two new victims.”

“Mm, I know,” she groans, and you begin to hear typing. “Morgan texted me their names, I was waiting for your call.”

“Yep, we just need you to work your magic, that’s all.”

“That I can do,” she replies, no doubt through a smile. “Speaking of magic…”

You already know where this is heading. “Seriously? Who told you?”

“JJ and Emily texted me,” Garcia admits. “But you know I was going to weasel it out of you eventually, anyway!”

“Yes, I know,” you roll your eyes, tossing the coffee stirrer and empty cream and sugar packets in the trash. “Listen, how about this: Once this case is over, we’ll all have a girl’s night at my place with a bunch of junk food and wine, and I’ll give all the details -- whatever they might be at that point.”

You can’t let yourself believe that you’ll still be together because who knows what could happen. Anything could happen. The universe has a bad habit of getting in the way of your love life.

“You know the way to my heart,” Garcia sighs dreamily. “It’s a date. Speaking of dates, it looks like our two victims were married.”

“Married?” You nearly yell. Talk about a plot twist. “And the guy brought our unsub home for a one-night stand?”

“Looks that way so far,” Garcia says with a grimace. “Caroline Merritt, 35, was the CEO of her own company and traveled a lot. It looks like she changed flights yesterday and landed around eleven p.m. She checked her car out of the airport parking lot at eleven forty-five.”

“Great, so she might’ve walked in on our unsub.” You rub your forehead from the stress. “What about the other victim?”

“Jasper Rhodes was 34 and a part-time worker at the local Walmart,” Garcia lists off. “They had been married for three years, but Caroline never changed her last name.”

“Don’t exactly blame her,” you remark. “Alright, which one had allegations?”

“I’m about to burst your bubble, babycakes. Neither of them.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Garcia echoes, just as solemn. “Caroline has a squeaky clean record, aside from one speeding ticket when she was seventeen for going forty-five in a school zone. Jasper also has a clean slate for a record, but he does have one DUI from when he was twenty-two. Nothing else since.”

“It’s been twelve years, so for all we know, he could be sober for a decade now,” you mutter. “Okay. Do they have any connection at all to our other victims? Please say yes.”

“Cross referencing as we speak,” Garcia says, typing furiously. “Almost done… Negative,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “Thank you for being such a wizard, as always.”

“It’s my specialty,” she quips. “So...do I get some details about you and Hotch now?”

“Goodbye Garcia…” You chuckle, ending the call before she can ask anything else.

You walk back into the conference room, shaking your head sadly at JJ who looks up with hopeful eyes.

“Garcia found virtually nothing. Caroline got a speeding ticket at seventeen, and Jasper a DUI at twenty-two. Nothing since. And no connection to any of our other victims,” you relay the information, ending it with a sip of your coffee.

“This unsub is good,” JJ says, exasperated. “How is she always three steps ahead of us?”

“She’s not, really,” Reid says, and you can feel something else coming on. “It’s like she knows we’re closing in on her, so she’s going after those who have no reported allegations. She’s not as far ahead as we think, but maybe that’s what she wants us to think.”

“Reid, dude, you’re sounding like a fortune cookie right now,” you laugh. “I get where you’re going with this. But unless they find some DNA at the crime scene, we’re back to square one again.”

“Maybe…” He trails away, getting up to look at the map.

Something is going on in his head, but you’re not sure what. He’ll tell you when he’s finished with it, you’re sure.

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing. Thinking it’s Garcia, you pull it out and answer without looking, but Garcia’s voice isn’t what you hear on the other end.

“I’m heading back to the precinct,” Hotch says.

“O...kay,” you furrow your eyebrows, mouthing, ‘Hotch’ to JJ. “Why just you?”

“I need to show you something,” he says slowly, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “The unsub left a note.”

“What does it say?” You ask, wondering why it’s like pulling teeth to get him to speak.

“It’s addressed to you,” he finally says, and all the blood drains from your body. “It’s in an envelope and sealed. Your… Your name is on the front.”

You’re not sure what to make of that at all.

“Okay,” you say, your brain unable to really process it. “Okay, we’ll look at it when you get here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t say that to me. You’re scaring me.” You pause. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this note,” he replies, voice quiet. “For this unsub targeting you, and now for scaring you.”

“What does the note say?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t open it.”

“Okay. Just...hurry, I guess.”

“I’m turning into the parking lot now.”

“Okay, see you in a sec,” you murmur, ending the call.

You look up from the phone to find both JJ and Reid staring at you, concern swimming deeply in their eyes. You don’t even have the energy to offer them a reassuring smile. Nothing about this is comfortable for you.

Why would the unsub leave a note addressed to you?

Hotch walks through the precinct doors a few moments later, a man on a mission as he walks directly to the conference room. You’re explaining to JJ and Reid about the note when he walks in, and you fall silent upon seeing him.

He hates that he even called you to warn you, but he had to do something. His mind was racing on the drive. He had to hear your voice, and he knew you were bound to ask why he was coming back on his own, what’s so urgent, so he knew he’d have to tell you.

But the fear in your eyes right now is something he never wants to see again. Ever.

“Where is it?” You say, your voice wavering.

Slowly, Hotch pulls the envelope out of his jacket pocket. It’s in a plastic bag, which is standard protocol for evidence, and you begin searching for a pair of gloves.

You find a pair and start to slip them on, grimacing at the way your hands shake, and using your peripheral vision to see that Aaron is watching you closely.

Once you’re gloved up, he hands you the plastic bag. It feels much heavier than it should.

Carefully, you pull out the envelope, swallowing down the nausea you’re feeling. As Hotch said, your name -- Agent Y/N L/N -- is scrawled on the front in messy handwriting. Fortunately, Reid can examine that, and this letter if it’s handwritten.

You break the seal on the envelope, flinching slightly, and ignoring that you did. But Aaron saw it.

You pull out the note and half of you cries in relief because it is handwritten, and the other half of you feels sheer terror because your business card is taped to the top left hand corner.

“Shit,” you cuss, closing your eyes.

“What?” Aaron asks, taking a step closer, lowering his head to meet your eye level.

“My business card,” you say, opening your eyes again, hating the way things look blurry for a moment. JJ and Reid are just fuzzy figures at the table when you look around the room. “It could’ve been anyone at the meetings. I handed my card to as many that would take it. There’s no way I’ll remember everyone, or even half of them, I mean, I ran out of cards, I had to go stand by Morgan because--”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Aaron stops you, putting both hands on your arms. “Look at me, please.”

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and you meet his brown eyes, finding your peace there like you have so many other times before. You focus on the weight of his hands on your arms, grounding you, bringing you back.

“I know it’s difficult,” he says. “But you need to breathe.”

You nod, sucking in a deep breath a little too abruptly, not even realizing you had been taking shallow breaths in the first place.

“Good girl,” he whispers, so low that he’s almost mouthing it, careful not to let JJ or Reid hear. And it’s not sexual or sensual this time. It’s comforting. “Can you read the rest of it?”

You nod. “I can help you end your suffering. I can help you avenge. I can help you heal. It doesn’t have to be this way.” You pause, looking up from the note, looking between Hotch, JJ, and Reid. “What does that even mean?”

“Did you talk about your experience during the meetings?” Reid asks.

“A little bit, but I barely scratched the surface of it,” you admit. “And I didn’t mention any names. I might hate him, but...I’d never send a serial killer after him.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “We’re not accusing you of that,” he adds gently. “It’s clear our unsub feels a connection to you now. Something you said must’ve resonated deeply with her.”

“But all I said was that he was my fiancé and that I didn’t report him, so that still gets us nowhere. She’s still a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” he says sternly. “We will find her. You’ve already seen her once.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember seeing her, Hotch.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s reaching out. Which means we’re close.”

“Not close enough,” you protest, tossing the letter back on the plastic bag on the table. “I need to take a walk.” You move toward the door, and he’s following you, so you add quietly, “Alone, please.”

Hotch nods, and watches you go, more worried than he’s ever been in his life.

+++

When Rossi, Emily, and Morgan return to the police precinct, they spot you sitting alone on a bench outside the front doors.

“I got this,” Morgan says, hopping out of the car and heading to you, gesturing for Rossi and Emily to head inside. They share a look and nod, disappearing into the precinct to leave Morgan alone with you.

You don’t even look up from your hands when you see Morgan coming over from your peripheral vision.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Derek.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, sitting next to you on the bench, stretching his arm out behind you. “What’s going on? You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me.”

You snort. “I know.”

“So…” He pauses. “Tell me. It’ll save us both a whole lotta time. And it’ll save you a whole lotta stress, sittin’ there with all that in your head.”

You know he’s right. And you know he’s the only one who really gets it.

So, you tell him what’s wrong.

“The unsub left that note just for me. My card was taped to it, Morgan.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? It means I laid eyes on her, maybe talked to her, handed her my fucking card, and I still didn’t know it was her.”

“We’re not superhuman, Y/N. We only see what they show us. She probably put on a mask while talking to you.”

“Well now she’s still out there--”

“Listen to me. I ran out of cards too, remember? We started using yours. I easily could’ve given her your card. Hell, I was there with you, I probably looked at her a dozen times, too. Are you gonna yell at me for not recognizing her?”

“No--”

“Then stop doing it to yourself, you hear me?”

“I just… She feels a connection to me. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re a relatable person,” Derek offers, causing you to glare at him. “Hey,” he raises a hand in surrender. “I’m just being logical. It doesn’t say anything about you. Because a serial killer’s view of you is not who you are. You are who you are.”

“Thanks for the fortune cookie.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, kid,” he replies tiredly. “You know you’re not really mad at me, so don’t take it out on me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you rub your forehead. “I’m just…”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you still need to hear it,” he says. “And I’ll always be here to tell you, got that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “Got it.”

He smiles too, glad to see you’re feeling better. He shoves your shoulder lightly, playfully. “Come on. Let’s get back in there.”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up.

He walks ahead, but you stay still, wondering if you should even ask what you’re about to ask. But Derek notices your hesitation and turns back around, studying you.

“Spit it out,” he says, knowing there’s something.

“The unsub is trying to talk to me,” you say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “So...what if we set up a trap.”

“What?” Morgan deadpans, raising his eyebrows, turning his body to completely face you.

“What if we--”

“Use you as bait?” Morgan finishes, incredulity coating his words.

You nod. “I wasn’t going to word it like that, but--”

He scoffs, looking more and more pissed off as the seconds go on. “Hell no. Are you outta your damn mind?”

“No, I’m not. I’m--”

“No,” he stops you, holding up his hand, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t go there. We will find this unsub, and we will do it without you sacrificing yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be sacrificing myself!” You protest. “You guys would be there. You’d have my back.”

“We can’t predict everything this unsub will do, Y/N, you know that,” Morgan fires back. “And I’ll be damned if I let you throw yourself into danger like this. It’s not happening. You hear me?”

SIghing, you nod. “I hear you.”

“Have you even told Hotch about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t,” Morgan replies. “You’ll just get a lecture and you and I both know you don’t need that right now.”

“I know.”

He pauses, shaking his head. He steps forward, wrapping you in a hug, eyes closing when he feels you burying your face in his neck. “I love you, kid,” he whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but you got this, we got this. And it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Next chapter

[corysmiles]

Could you believe I actually am back with some Runnaway Experiment WRITING??? :D

This takes place very early on in the story, and gives some more insight into Tommy's life before they escaped (in the comics). Enjoy :D

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The experiment was growing years after years, to everyone’s delight. It seemed the first laboratorial human had a decent enough lifespan so that it could be studied in the long run. And so, 14 years, it has been since T0M saw the light of day, and it acted in a similar fashion a 14 year old human would. .

Of course, the many researchers failed to take in consideration an alteration of the most cumbersome. T0M looked human, could understand the english language, followed orders and didn’t complain, asked some questions but the specimen…. was big.

Too big to fit in a human bed.

Too big to fit comfortably in a room.

It went in spurts, which was terrifying the first time. It kept on growing and growing, as scientists hoped it wouldn't take long for it to stop, otherwise, it might lead to a lot of problems. But for the past 2 years, no noticeable change really occurred, which was a relief when the thing was already 25 ft tall. It never seemed to be challenging personality wise, which was a relief, but they still needed to keep him in line.

Hopefully, the Doctor Soot, as well as Doctor Puff took part in daily check ups and made sure he didn’t rebel.

So, every 2 day, they took turns to visit T0M in the room accustomed to its needs.

And both’s reports were excellent! T0M learned more while being as obedient and compliant as ever. Phil couldn’t be more happy with those results.

However, as time went on…. Wilbur failed to mention another kind of teaching he had going on with the subject for the past months.

“And this is called ‘Sadness’.” He held an A3 size paper with a moody smiley drawn on it, the word being written below. “It’s that feeling when our sessions are over and I have to go and you say ‘oh noooo’ in that voice.”

T0M was sitting on his knees in front of him, paying the utmost attention to what Wilbur was showing and saying.

“I hate that one.” He pouted.

“I know,” Wilbur chuckled. “No one likes to feel sad. But it’s a part of life.”

A single hum. Wilbur’s smile turned more sympathetic.

“Do you remember the other ones?” He stood up from his place and put the sheet in one of the dark grey metallic drawers.

T0M nodded, excitedly. He took his hand and poked his fingers as he counted. “ there’s “Happiness”, it’s the good one. And “Disgust”, it’s when I have to eat the weird green stuff.”

“Brocoli”

“That. And then there’s excitement, it’s when I smile real big because you come early.”

Wilbur clapped “Wonderful!” T0M’s eyes were shining stars at every approval from Doctor Soot. Even though T0M’s enjoyment was very appreciated and contagious, but it could be a bit… much, to handle at times.

“Since you understand the basics, I think it’s time for us to start a whole new lesson.” He clapped.

T0M gasped and cheered from the top of his lungs “YEAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”, throwing his arms in the air and effectively making the room shake from the sheer volume of his voice. When he looked back at the scientist, his eyebrows were pinched and the brunette was covering his ears and curled up, almost in pain.

“...Doctor?” He brought his head close to the man who, after making eye contact, scrambled back until he hit the same drawer he put the papers in earlier. T0M looked at him confused, face still too big in Wilbur’s peripheral.

“I… Tom, I appreciate your enthusiasm when we do our lessons, but if you could prevent yourself from screaming, it would be nice.” He tried in the most gentle voice he could muster without it shaking.

“What’s screaming?” T0M asked, crouched so his face was almost on the ground at eye level with him. He brought a hand closer to the doctor who was still breathing heavily. When his head shot to look at the hand, his body on alert, he froze before saying.

“... Is it a moment when I can’t touch you?”

Wilbur’s eyes were locked on the now frozen hand for a good second before returning to T0M, nodding. “Uh, yeah.”

“... Okay.”

The hand retracted in the following seconds, and soon, he was back in his initial position.

The doctor thanked before regaining his composure. He looked back at T0M, and his expression held remorse. A guilt twisted Wilbur's guts at the view. Thing is, as T0M grew up, people quickly realised he was the equivalent of clingy. He would constantly grab people into hugs and had a hard time keeping his voice down which resulted in a large noise blocker investment. And so they had a rule. T0M couldn’t make any sort of physical contact with anyone without being given explicit permission first. Obviously, most workers considered T0M as a test subject and therefore, wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

Wilbur, though, was not in the same vein. Once he realised how empathic and emotional and human T0M was, he started teaching him things a human teen should need, and started giving him a sort of affection a human teen should have. Which included some sort of physical affection.

When T0M was sad, he would sit next to him or pat his back. It quickly evolved as Wilbur accepted being held by the boy and brought to eye level as long as he was careful when doing so, and ever later, they would hug and wilbur would try to brush his hair at times.

Still, that didn’t make him immune to any of T0M’s carelessness which’s consequences were amplified ten fold due to his scale.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked pitifully.

“I- no, it’s not your fault. It can just be a bit overwhelming is all.” Wilbur explained.

“... what does that mean?”

“It means… when something is ‘too much’. Like when you want to bring Techno very close, but he keeps reminding you about the rule.”

“Oh.” T0M let his head fall. “... I don’t like that.” Wilbur scratched his head. “I want to be so close and show that I’m very happy and it’s all inside and I can’t let it out.”

“Well, here, it’s a bit more of the opposite. When outside, there is a lot and you’re incapable of letting it in.”

“... I’m sorry Wilbur” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, I’m not angry.” reassured the brunette. “I just have sensitive ears.”

“...Everyone has sensitive ears.”

“Well, when you’re a small guy like me, you’re sensitive on pretty much all fronts.”

“... It’s not fair.”

“What’s that?” Wilbur perked.

“When I stop getting big and strong, I want to hug you with all of my will. Like you do with me. It feels nice. I want you to feel nice just like that. I want you to be overwhelmed with happiness. I want to hug you so, so bad but I can't and it's shit. I don't want to be strong, I hurt you if I’m strong. I want to hug you."

Tommy vented, more to himself, and when he looked at Wilbur, his eyes shined, not with joy.

"Oh Tommy…."

It ached. It ached Wilbur to his core that something as simple as a hug was something he craved and still couldn't get. Because he knew. He knew all of the things T0M was missing out on. All the life he could have lived if he was granted freedom. How much he could live and appreciate. It kept him awake at night.

But he was here. Trapped. In a room barely tall enough to contain him, treated like a circus monster. And the worst thing was, T0M wasn't aware of it. Of all the life he wasn't living. How his life was no life and how he thinks this absence of everything is what life should be.

Plato would probably laugh in his grave.

"I promise you. One day, you will be able to do that. I promise you that I'll find a way for you to hug me just like you are a small man too. I promise you that I'll make you discover all of those joys of life, Tom. I Promise you. I will help you. And I'm sorry for not being able to provide it sooner. And I'll apologize for all the years it took for me to get it."

They stared at each other, and Tommy nodded, throat tight and eyes wet.

"And a promise makes sure that it's gonna happen." T0M croaked.

"Exactly, tom." Wilbur smiled. "You are going to live many more things."

The bell rang, and both faces fell a bit.

"I'll see you in 4 days, Tom. We're gonna have a little recap over the emotions you learned and then I'll teach you about relationships."

"Oohh, that sounds nice! What is it?"

As Wilbur packed his little bag, he looked at T0M and simply replied "it's all around you. But I'm not gonna spoil the next session. On that note, I wish you a nice week, Tom."

"Have a nice week, Wilbur! " T0M waved with a smile. "It's nice talking to you."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Tom."

And thus, they parted. As Wilbur walked down the immense corridor (just tall enough Tom could run through them.) He wore a satisfied smile. His small steps resonated, the only sound in the room, yet peaceful enough for his ears to listen to them as carefully as silence. Halfway through, the sound was doubled.

"Helloooo."

"Oh, hey techno! How are you?"

"Doing fine. You seem very happy."

"I am. I made some good progress with T-he subject. I feel like he's learning well. The next tests should have fabulous results."

"Ahh, wonderful. Let's make sure it doesn't learn too much though." He joked.

And at that, Wilbur chuckled, his hand on the man's shoulder. "Oh don't you worry about that, my friend. I can assure you that'll never happen"

"Amazing" techno replied, deadpan. Both nodded their conversation away and walked the rest of their ways.

As he got further away, the doctor's smile turned to an amused grin. His steps resonated, so much smaller than what could be, in a corridor in which the boy just next door should walk through.

"Don't you worry about a single thing."

MEL YES I ADORE THIS AU SO MUCH ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Poor Tommy but at least Wilbur is helping him :”]

[eirikaanemo]

Can You Keep A Secret?

Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness

Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.9k Words

Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?

Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.

You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!

Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.

Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.

Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.

It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.

Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.

What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you

It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.

The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.

The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.

Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.

After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.

He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.

One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.

Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.

When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.

Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”

“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.

Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.

“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”

The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.

It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.

Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”

There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”

You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”

Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.

You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

[blu-joons]

When Your Child Gets Accepted As A Trainee ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Just by the look in his eyes you could tell that Jin was far from impressed when your daughter came home and let you know that she’d been offered a contract. Whilst you were pleased, his head could only shake at such an idea.

As your daughter looked across at him, he leant forwards. “I’ve been there, it’s not always as nice as people think it is.”

“But it’s what I want to do.”

“I know that,” Jin sighed, unable to look away from the excitement in her eyes. “But there’s a very clouded vision of being a trainee for most people.”

You let go of a sigh, “Jin, she’s always wanted to follow in your footsteps, and now you’re telling her no.”

“It’s not that I’m saying no, I just want her to really be able to think this through.”

“What’s there to think about?” Your daughter challenged, “what haven’t you told me about being a trainee that could possibly be bad enough to put me off.”

“A lot,” Jin frowned, resting his hand against the crown of his head, “I never told you the bad stuff because I was scared that it would put you off.”

As her eyes flickered to you, your head slowly nodded. “I think there’s a lot that maybe you still need to find out abut being a trainee sweetie.”

“So, tell me, but it still won’t stop me reaching my dreams.”

Yoongi:

The discussion of your daughter being a trainee was a ticking time bomb, and so when it finally erupted, you were far from surprised. It took Yoongi some time to really come to terms with what was being said.

Eventually, he crept back down the stairs after calming himself down. “I’m still not exactly thrilled about all of this.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be ecstatic.”

“But I do want to try and find a way to agree to this that we can both be happy with,” he spoke up, taking a seat at your side, opposite your daughter.

Her head nodded, “I want you to be happy for me, even though I know deep down you’re worried about me, because of you.”

“It’s just that I’ve been there, it’s not always as happy as you think it might be.”

“Nothing is easy,” she argued, her argument something that neither of you could deny. “And I’m prepared to put all the hard work in, just like how you did.”

“Of course,” Yoongi acknowledged, “and I know becoming a trainee and an idol is something you’re more than capable of achieving too.”

Her smile slowly grew, “it’s only because I’ve got your genes,” she complimented, desperate to get her father a little more on side.”

“Flattery won’t get me to agree to this straight away, but nice try.”

Hoseok:

Seeing Hobi’s car directly outside of the company building was a nightmare for your daughter. She was yet to sign her contract, but that didn’t stop Hobi making sure he was there every morning and night to keep her safe.

As she got into the car, she let go of a heavy sigh. “You don’t need to do this; home is only five minutes down the road.”

“How else am I supposed to keep you safe?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” she argued, placing her seatbelt around her figure. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to be picked up by my dad every day?”

Hobi shrugged back at her, “I don’t care, all I want is to make sure that you’re safe, even if you can’t see that.”

“I can see that, but it doesn’t mean I’m pleased about you being parked right outside.”

“Until I’m entirely convinced that this trainee business is good for you, I’ll be here every day,” he responded, refusing to listen to any of her protests.

“I remember the good days when you used to be fun,” she muttered under her a breath, a comment that stung harshly at Hobi as he pulled away from the company.

His head turned to look at her, “how about I prove to you that I can still be a fun dad? Just a dad who has your best interests in heart.”

“That depends, are you going to take me for food, or not?”

Namjoon:

The idea of your daughter becoming a trainee was never one that truly appealed to Namjoon, but he wasn’t prepared to fully stand in the way of your daughter’s dreams. Just enough, that he knew the ins and outs of everything.

The first time he met the trainees she worked with, his eyes looked everywhere. “So, have you got a leader yet, I want to meet her.”

“No, we’re all just equals right now.”

“But is there someone in charge?” Namjoon continued to push, “I could give them some advice, so I know that they’re going to protect you properly.”

Your daughter pushed his side, “you’re not giving anyone here one of your lectures, I’ve heard enough of them myself.”

“But how else will they know how to do their job? You’re all still learning.”

“Exactly, we’re all still learning,” she frowned, “therefore we don’t need you to come with your advice. I thought you said that you’d trust in me with this?”

“I do,” Namjoon assured her, “but as your dad, I’m bound to have concerns, especially when I know exactly how you’re feeling right now and how hard it is.”

Her hand moved up tor rest against his arm, “please, just maybe take a step back. You have to trust in me dad, whether you’re pleased or not.”

“I know, I guess it just feels like you’re growing up a lot now.”

Jimin:

Knowing just what he was like as a young trainee, Jimin couldn’t help but worry. He remembered how everyone’s eyes would always stare when a female walked in, and how the same would probably happen to his little girl.

When he came home one day with an oversized hoodie, you were hardly surprised. “You have to have this on you at all times.”

“Why am I ever going to need this?”

“Men,” Jimin stated as he placed it in your daughter’s lap, “I won’t have a single one of those trainees staring at you like I remember we all used to.”

Her head shook, handing it back to him. “No one’s going to stare, and if they do, it’s hardly like anything will happen.”

“Even if nothing happens, people still shouldn’t stare. It’s not fair on you Y/D/N.”

“But you used to stare?” She challenged, rendering Jimin silent. You couldn’t help but let go of a light chuckle at how stumped he had become.

“It’s human nature Jimin,” you reminded him, “just because she’s your daughter isn’t going to stop people looking at her if they want to.”

His head shook rapidly, “you’re young, these things shouldn’t be happening. Wear the jumper and then no one will get a look in with you.”

“I’m not wearing your stupid jumper; I can handle myself.”

Taehyung:

Being a trainee was far from easy, Taehyung had learnt that first-hand. But he was a male, aware of the stereotypes that surrounded females, aware of the stereotypes that would probably end up about his daughter.

He wanted to be please, but the concerns just kept eating away at him. “What are you worried about?” You asked him one evening.

“Her, and what could happen.”

“Judgement?” You queried, slightly relieved when his head nodded. “I’m worried too, but this is always something that she’s wanted to do Tae.”

He sighed gently, “I’ve seen it though, the way so many females are treated, no woman deserves that, especially her.”

“Don’t you think she’s old enough to stand on her own two feet a little bit?”

“I can’t stand back and let her put herself at risk,” he vented, resting his head against your shoulder, “I’ve been there, it’s not pretty.”

“What about all the good times too?” You then quizzed, “you’re not telling me you’ve only got bad memories of being a trainee, are you?”

His head shook instantly, “it was a good time, for the most part. It always is when you’re a guy, but what about when you’re a girl?”

“I’m sure she’ll be alright, if not, she’s got you in her corner.”

Jungkook:

As soon as he heard rumour that the company wanted to sign up your daughter, his mind wondered back to the days of him being a trainee. He was young, like her, and incredibly vulnerable, a position he didn’t want her to be in.

As he met your daughter that evening, he couldn’t keep himself quiet. “Are you truly sure that this is what you want to do?”

“Why are you trying to put me off?”

“I was in your shoes once,” Jungkook whispered, staring away from her. “And I don’t think I can tell you how hard it really was sometimes for me.”

Her head nodded, “you’re always the one that tells me sometimes you have to go through hardship to get to where you want to be.”

“But are you really prepared to go through the true hardship of being a trainee.”

“Kook,” you sighed as you walked up the stairs and heard the lecture that he was giving her. “She wants to do this; you know she’ll be looked after.”

“Of course,” he hummed, trying to ease his mind, “it’s just I was that teenager at the back of the room, and the last thing I want is the same for you.”

Your daughter moved across to wrap her arms around her father, “I promise I’ll be alright; you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I’m always going to worry about you, I’m your father.”

---

Masterlist

[rhysismydaddy]

can you write a canon rowaelin oneshot where aelin’s pregnant and it’s nighttime so while she’s sleeping, rowan talks to the baby through her stomach and sings a lullaby? and maybe add a scene where aelin’s water breaks and rowan freaks out or something?

It was about two minutes before Aelin’s favorite part of the day.

She could hardly wait, but she had to remember to stay calm and still and everything else someone who was asleep would be. 

Luckily, she knew she didn’t snore, so all she had to do was stay quiet and keep her eyes shut.

A small task that became so much harder when--two minutes later, at exactly 10:30 like always--she felt her husband slip into bed next to her. 

It’d been getting harder and harder to actually stay awake this late as her pregnancy developed, but she still found herself fighting the fall of her eyelids every night, despite knowing she should sleep.

Cool air kissed her skin briefly as he settled next to her and kissed her cheek. Like she’d done even before getting pregnant, she turned on her side so he could snuggle her from behind and wrap his arms around her.

This was home to her, here in his arms. 

Rowan’s head tucked into her neck, and she sighed sleepily, something she didn’t even have to fake.

After a few moments, her husband’s hands began to rub over her stomach lightly. 

She was wearing one of his t-shirts, one that barely fit over her anymore, and hadn’t bothered to wash her hair that day, but she’d never felt more beautiful than when he smiled against her neck and started to talk to the child they’d created together.

He silently slipped further down the bed, resting his head on the curve of her hip, but kept himself wrapped around her so she could continue stealing his warmth.

Aelin’s ears strained to hear as he started whispering, but she resisted the temptation to move closer, knowing it would give her away.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, so we have to be quiet,” he murmured, big hands cradling her even bigger belly. “But soon, we’ll be able to do this in person. You’ll be here by the end of the week, from what they tell us.”

Tears burned in her eyes at the excitement in his voice as he said, “I can’t wait to meet you, Firefly.”

They’d found out they were having a girl two weeks ago, and he’d been ridiculous ever since, buying pink onesies, hanging matching twinkly lights in the nursery, reading a how-to book about raising girls.

But the one thing they hadn’t prepared for was what they were going to name her. They’d argued about it, and then one day he just started referring to their unborn child as Firefly. 

It was a nickname that stemmed from him calling her Fireheart, and it made her almost cry every time he said it. 

“Your mother’s the most important woman in my life, but you... you’re my baby girl.” She could hear his smile. “You’re going to be just like her. You’ll be strong, and beautiful, and will drive me absolutely crazy.”

Silent tears escaped, even as she remained perfectly still. 

“But I can’t wait to see what traits of mine you have, too.” He pressed his lips to her stomach in a feather-light kiss, then whispered, “I love you so much, little Firefly. Now go to sleep.”

Rowan resumed his big-spoon position and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to cradle both her and their child. 

“That goes for you, too, Fireheart.”

Aelin grinned and snuggled further into him, murmuring, “I love you, Ro.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you, too.”

~

“Are you serious?” 

She nodded. 

“You want lemon gelato for lunch?”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, prompting her to ask, “Why not?”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “You hate lemon, babe.”

Aelin groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. She’d forgotten about that. “Take it up with her. She’s the one demanding it. Little brat.”

He scowled. “She isn’t a brat. And she can have as much lemon gelato as she wants just as soon as she’s born.”

Her stomach reminded her once again how empty it was.

“Rowan, I swear I’m going to stab you if you don’t go get me something to eat.”

Her husband just smiled. “It’s moments like these when I’m reminded why I agreed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“A very short life, if you don’t-”

A container of gelato landed on the counter in front of her, along with a spoon. 

With narrowed eyes, she checked the label, then demanded, “How did you know?”

He laughed. “You talk in your sleep.”

“Eavesdropper,” she mumbled, ripping into the container and taking a huge mouthful. 

See, this is why pregnancy was strange to Aelin. Nine months ago she’d hated lemon, and now this stupid container of gelato was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

“I love you,” she said around a mouthful, grinning when he came to press a kiss to her cheek. 

“And now she’s sweet,” he teased, brushing her hair off her forehead. 

Then he went tense, and every bone in his body seemed to still as he said seriously, “Aelin. Look down.”

“I can’t see past my belly, dummy. Just pick up whatever I dropped.”

His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before he spit out, “You... your water broke.”

She leaned over slightly to look at the floor, seeing that there was in fact a wet spot beneath her. “Huh.”

She took another bite of gelato.

“Huh?” he asked incredulously, leaving the kitchen and starting to run around the house. He threw things in the bag he’d affectionately deemed The Baby Bag, yelling at her to get ready.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating, only pausing when Rowan burst into the room and demanded breathlessly, “What are you doing?”

“Eating. Can you hand me the pizza from last night?”

Because who was she to question her daughter’s cravings?

“Aelin, we have to go! You’re in labor.”

Reaching the bottom of the container, she sighed. Why did they make pints so small these days? “I’m aware.”

“So then get in the car!”

Her always calm and collected husband looked about ten seconds away from ripping his own hair out, which made her smile. “Labor lasts hours, Rowan. I assure you, I have time to eat a slice of pizza.”

“I’ll order you a whole, brand new, hot pizza at the hospital.”

She considered this, tapping her chin. “Fine.”

Then she turned and waddled down the hallway to their room.

“Wait!” he called out, coming after her. “What are you doing? The door is the other way.”

“I’m not going to the hospital in a wet dress, Rowan. It’s called standards.” Ignoring his angry little growl, she changed into a clean dress. “Zip me up, please.”

He zipped the dress in a flash, almost ripping it, then grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the door. 

“Wait, I need shoes!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes bright with panic. “Babies don’t care if you wear shoes when you birth them.”

“If you think I’m walking across a hospital floor with no shoes on... grab those, will you?” She pointed to a pair of sandals, not feeling like bending down to get them herself. 

Rowan roughly put her feet in them, making her frown. “I’m not really appreciating this attitude, you know. You don’t need to manhandle me.”

His jaw was tight from where he was grinding it, but he still sounded perfectly civil as he said back, “I just want to get to the hospital.”

Aelin sighed, patting his shoulder. “It’s been five minutes. We have time.”

He looked a little relieved... until she said casually, “Plus, worst comes to worst, you deliver her in the tub. All doctors really do is stand there and catch the kid.”

His mouth fell open, and the attitude came swooping back in. “I am not birthing this child in our bathtub, woman. Now, you can walk to the car yourself, or I will carry you, but either way we are leaving right the fuck now.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned and slowly made her way to the door, pausing when she came back into the kitchen. “You know, cold pizza actually sounds better-”

Rowan swooped her up, the ten pound bowling ball in her stomach seeming to be no issue, and walked toward the front door. 

“Rowan! Put me down, you buzzard!”

He set her in the passenger seat, gripped her chin, and set a serious kiss to her lips. “You’re so sweet.”

Her hands fisted in the hem of her dress. “I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re going.”

“No!” she exploded, pushing him away and trying to get out of the car. “No, no, no. I can’t go yet, I need more time, I-”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he slipped a hand over her mouth to shut her up. “You can do this, Fireheart.”

She was crying, although she wasn’t sure when that had even started. 

She shook her head.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You can do this. You’re going to be a great mom. I may be freaking out about actually getting to the hospital, but I’m not scared about what follows.”

Aelin gave him disbelieving eyes.

"If I wasn’t sure, one hundred percent positive, that you could do this, then yeah, I’d be scared. But you’re going to do great. I know that, and so do you.”

He took his hand off her mouth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re great at everything. This won’t be any different.”

That made her smile, even as she rolled her eyes. 

“I am pretty amazing,” she agreed softly.

“Yes, you are. But I’d really like to do this in a hospital room instead of our driveway, and you’re probably half-way dilated by now, so-”

It was Aelin’s turn to cover his mouth with her hand. “Let’s go meet Firefly.”

She didn’t even know the name of her child or how the hell they were going to pull this off, but under the steady weight of his gaze, Aelin knew that no matter what, they’d figure it out together.

~

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Memories of 2020 - Initial asks and a small discussion

*cracks knuckles* Here we go.

If any of you have spent any amount of time today on any ARMY sns platform, I’m sure you’ve seen the mess which, as seasoned ARMY, I can tell you was the exact same mess we see...every single time. I can’t particularly say I’m surprised by any of it, especially when watching the entire process, as in the first clips hitting the TL and then the rest slowly following suit like a flood building steadily as the hours went by.

From anon: be ready for insecure vminies 😂

I’m pleased to report it wasn’t actually as bad as I expected, though now that I’m typing this I probably jinxed my own luck and the flood of asks will come soon enough, but maybe not. I’m holding on to the latter.

Based on the cycle in which these things happen every time, as in that the first clips that hit the ARMY spaces are Xkook ones, followed by vmin and other ships, and lastly more OT7 content, I expected our asks to go haywire after that clip, you know which one I mean. But we’ve only gotten two (?) about it, kind of, so I guess most people understood that it was just for laughs and nothing serious that anyone would have to get insecure over.

From anon: Sigh. This is my first memories of bts as army and i'm already tired of how all of twitter seems to be about 1 j*/k*ok moment now. There were so many j*n/kook m*ments and hugs and a sweet h*pe/k*ok backhug moment and a good number of vmin moments including slow dancing so why is the focus always on that one ship?

Here’s the thing, maybe my TLs are just well curated, I don’t know, but on mine no one really focused on that moment? Even non-shipper OT7s just briefly had a chuckle and then moved along to other things, awww’ed at vmin moments, there was lots and lots of talk about J*nk*ok being super cute and there being so much content when it comes to their interactions, there was a lot of chatter about basically every duo and OT7 moment. I know ship specific spaces went nuts, Xkookers butting heads like their lives depend on it, but outside of them?

“All of twt” is an exaggeration and I know, believe me I do, that Xkookers have the ability to make it seem like everyone just cares about their moments because they themselves (the shippers) are loud and seemingly everywhere, but when you look past them, that isn’t the case. Shippers have a tendency to generalize, especially those who follow a lot of their fellow shippers, but when you step outside of shipper spaces, things look very differently.

Like anon said, though I’d like to preface this by saying that I haven’t seen the entirety of Memories of 2020 so I can only go by what I have seen though I’d say I’ve seen nearly everything that was posted on twt or at least as much as I could find (including Xkook things), there were a lot, and I mean a lot, of amazing moments between basically all the members, regardless of who your favorite duo might be, I’m sure there was something for you there. Even those who are supposedly a rarity. And even as vminnies, this time around we had a feast with so many amazing vmin moments, some funny ones, some random ones, some super cute ones, whatever you want, there is something there for you to find. And the same can be said about so many other duos, we even got Yoongi and Hobi FaceTiming each other, and Yoongi saying they look like a couple while looking at the pictures Hobi chose for the coffee truck he sent to Yoongi’s Daechwita MV filming set.

There’s one discussion I’d like to get out of the way below the cut, but after that I will have another post very, very soon in which I want us to just have some fun and look at vmin, namjin and the other moments because there is just so much to find. And this is just day one of people having the DVDs, these discussion will continue for a while because, like I mentioned before, Memories are a treasure trove for OT7 content and fun stuff, and there’s more than eleven hours worth of it to be watched, discovered and discussed.

But, okay, let’s get into that moment since anons wanted to talk about it and know my thoughts on it, so let’s do just that. And yes, other anon from a while ago, I remember you once mentioning how I shouldn’t talk about other ships and shouldn’t “debunk” them and their moments, though I’d hardly call this debunking, but as I said many times since our first post, I’m ARMY before I am a vminnie and namjinist, and our blog is called thoughts on Bangtan and, as far as I’m aware, both JK and Jimin are part of Bangtan, so I don’t see a reason why I can’t show my perspective on it and also voice my grievances with shippers when it comes to that moment. And, before anyone comes into our asks to yell at me for being toxic/problematic or only doing this to make my ship look better or whatever, no, that isn’t the point, like at all. 

“Debunking” moments makes literally no difference whatsoever in the grand scheme of things and doesn’t affect reality, all I am doing is having a chat just like everyone else. I’m not even asking you to agree with me, you’re more than welcome not to, I can’t and won’t stop you. Also, just so you know, my initial reaction was just to laugh amused by it, no hard feelings, so I’m not the bad guy.

That being said...the Xkook moment.

Here’s the thing, when it first surfaced many hours ago, the moment itself was cut down to show just the moment of Jimin leaning close to JK and JK leaning back and turning his head away so his cheek faced Jimin...and cut, some even cutting off the video before JK turned his head. That’s it. People, as in shippers, freaked out, and everyone else had a good laugh and moved along to other things, even vminnies were joking about it and everything. I saw none of my fellow vminnies getting angry or insecure about it. Then, as time went by, someone else posted that scene but this time also showing the things leading up to it, so putting it into context instead of removing it. With the context suddenly the whole thing looked and felt completely differently since moments prior Jimin was pretending to stab JK with the pointy end of his mic and then acted as though to check if he was d*ad, as in the end of the scene. Turns out it was just for giggles and not some grand romantic moment in a room full of people and a camera close to their faces.

By that time, of course, those who cared most about that moment had long decided what meaning this holds and didn’t care once context was shown. Gifs and art had already been created, the yelling was loud, and the fights between Xkookers were reaching levels of toxicity I hadn’t seen in a while, which was disgusting and fucked up the say the least. But, the thing is, I don’t think the moment itself was the issue. In context and as rational ARMY you know it was just Jimin playing around with JK as they usually do, things we’ve also seen other members do in similar (though not quite like this) fashion, and after eight years since debut and nine of knowing each other, this isn’t shocking or new in any way. No, the issue were Xkookers and the way they treated this moment, some even going as far as taking screenshots and editing them to make it seem like they were about to kiss, as in they changed the placements of their heads to fit their narrative, as well as others making gifs where they play the moment backwards (leaving out the part where JK leans his head away and to the side) and thus they created their own version of the moment which was different from what had actually happened.

That is my biggest issue with this whole thing. The blatant manipulation of moments to create narratives that don’t match reality, twisting them and using them in stupid pointless fights. But imagine vminnies were to do any of that, all hell would break loose and we’d be attacked without mercy because how dare, and yet they don’t follow their own “logic” and “rules”. It’s more than okay to find any and all moments cute, we all do, to make jokes and whatnot, but twisting context, manipulating it and basically creating your own version of it goes too far. 

Take what we are given as what it is, instead of what you want it to be.

So, now that that’s done, please fellow vminnies and ARMYs, don’t be insecure or let people ruin your mood and fun over it. It’s not worth it. Instead let’s check out and have a talk about some of the fun vmin and OT7 moments we got, along with other ones, including my reply to another anon when it comes to namjin. Of course what I will mention in the post (HERE) is basically just the tip of the iceberg since tumblr has a limit on pictures and everything, so just know there is so much more still left to see than just that.

Before I’ll go, for those who still feel a little insecure/doubtful/whatever else, while I was working on this post and the other one, another anon sent in this well timed vmin ask:

From anon: I have to say this as a Vmin supporter. Whatever is going on with Vmin we can rest assure what they is special/untouchable. They graduated HS & college together, going for Bachelors together. Jimin-ah I like you the most. I want to live with my lovely Taehyung for the rest if my life. Their future is together, friends/soulmates or more they said it. I won’t tear down other members closeness (good for them) their bonds don’t erase Vmins. I’m just happy with the moments Vmin allow us to see.

[7spaceace7]

By Fireflies’ Glow (Bagginshield)

Soooo I made a Bagginshield fic based off of this post and it’s on my Ao3 if you prefer to read it there, but here it is! The firefly scene didn’t make it into the movie’s cuts, so I made it myself and made it gay for good measure.

Word count: 2237

Warnings: None, unless you count unreasonable amounts of pining

Rivendell’s magnificence only extended into the evening, after the last light of day passed over the mountains surrounding it. Streaming waterfalls cascaded over the cliffs below, leading into rivers and streams down past the elven borders. Dusk crept up on Eastern skies in parallel to the setting sun, until the moon above followed its path high into the sky. Where there was sunlight cast into the water, silver moonlight now shone upon its surface. Bilbo had never seen an evening so beautiful, not in all his years. 

The beauty of Rivendell had so captured him that the hobbit had spent nearly all his time wandering about the kingdom. While his dwarrow companions dined together, Bilbo explored the main halls of Rivendell, and the hobbit was quick to continue his self-guided tour just after Thror’s map had been translated. There was no doubt that Bilbo had fallen in love with the Valley of Imladris. He had to see as much as he could before their journey picked up once more.

At least, that was his excuse to distract from the real reason he had put distance between himself and the others. In truth, he did not feel welcome at their table. Bilbo was acutely aware of his outsider status to the dwarves; he may have been a contracted burglar of this company, but the hobbit knew he was still viewed as little more than a burdensome stranger without any experience of the larger world. The worst part was that he couldn’t blame them.

It was no secret he was inexperienced. What he had in his skills of gardening and baking (the best cakes from scratch in the Shire, you see), he lacked in the practical adventuring repertoire of sword fighting and travelling across Middle Earth. He was a Baggins of Bag-End after all, such respectable hobbits didn’t just up and leave on journeys with strange dwarves who ate his pantry stock.

But then, Bilbo supposed he wasn’t a respectable hobbit anymore. He had left that title behind as soon as he grabbed his signed contract and rushed out of his rounded door all that time ago. Instead, he was a member of a perilous quest to slay a dragon and reclaim a dwarven kingdom. However, the title of “adventurer” didn’t seem to belong to him either. 

Another rounded corner of the path led Bilbo to find himself back where his exploration had started in the gardens. He hadn’t meant to come this way again, but it seemed his feet had started wandering on their own when the hobbit became lost in doubt. Bilbo didn’t mind, though. 

The gardens of the elves were some of the most enchanting he’d ever seen. Hedges encircled the area, trees sprung up their lanky limbs that seemed to welcome all who ventured there. It was well-kept, organized, and filled with flowers of all colors he’d only ever seen in books. The colors seemed to glow by moonlight as well, transforming into translucent blues, purples, and greens. Bilbo used to daydream about places like these from reading his books, wondering what it would be like to live in a place where such beautiful things can grow. Lord Elrond’s offer of staying in Rivendell returned to his mind.

“Master Baggins,” Came the rough voice of Thorin Oakenshield, pulling the hobbit from his thoughts in surprise. Bilbo’s head turned to see that the gardens had already been occupied by said dwarven king, who sat upon the backless, stone-carved bench alone. He held an expression that Bilbo could not place. At the least, it was not a glare or look of disdain toward him as usual. “I was beginning to think you’d run off. You made quick leave after reading the map. You weren’t at dinner, either.”

“You’re right, I was..”The hobbit shifted to his other leg. The words didn’t find him to explain that he didn’t think himself welcome in their company. Exploring didn’t seem much like a Baggins pastime either, so Bilbo’s sentence hung unfinished. “I didn’t realize someone else was here. I expect you wish to be left alone, I’ll take my leave-”

“The others are resting,” Thorin said before Bilbo could take even a step away. His gaze turned away from the hobbit and back to the open trees. “I couldn’t find sleep.”

“...So you came here?” 

Thorin bowed his chin in a nod. The halfling recalled many sleepless nights of his own being comforted by the fresh air found in his garden back home. He allowed himself to wonder if this was something he and the dwarf had in common.

“I never took you for a lover of nature.”

Perhaps on better terms, Thorin might have seemed amused. “I assure you, I am not. The gardens just happened to be far enough away from the sounds of Bombur’s snores.”

“I see. It is rather peaceful. In the gardens, I mean.”

“Indeed.”

Moments of silence stretched between the unlikely pair while the two admired their surroundings, even if Thorin wouldn’t admit to elvish work capturing his attention. Bilbo remained awkwardly at the steps of the garden where he was first stopped. He didn’t mind standing since Hobbits had more resilience in being on their feet for long amounts of time, but to Bilbo’s surprise, Thorin made room on the bench beside him. 

The halfling’s lips twitched in figuring what to say, should he say anything at all. Finally he decided that he ought to try and test the waters. If Thorin was offering him a place to sit, he would take the opportunity and see where it took him. The Tookish part inside told him that this could be his chance to reconcile their strained first impressions. Bilbo walked over and took his seat at the far end of the bench.

“I have my own garden, back in Bag-End,” He started, after the silence became too heavy to hold any longer, “You might have seen it when you arrived that night. It’s certainly not as impressive as this, but then I’m just one hobbit compared to many elves. Besides, it has all the flowers I really need, all of my favorites. The Shire has perfect weather for my hydrangeas best of all.”

The dwarf didn’t speak as he watched him ramble. Bilbo didn’t think Thorin much the type for listening about gardening techniques and therefore spared the details, but a quick glance over to the dwarf proved that he was, indeed, listening. Still silent as ever, but this was a bit different. The exiled king seemed at peace for once. Like he was grateful to hear of a hobbit’s silly affinity for plants instead of a mountain kingdom to be reclaimed.

It was a sight Bilbo found himself having trouble looking away from. He willed himself to focus on the fireflies gathering around the bushes instead. 

“Gardens were not to be found in the mountain,” Thorin’s voice softened at the mention of his old home. He always regarded the Lonely Mountain with careful, almost protective, thought. Bilbo’s eyes settled back on the dwarf and clung to every word. “Nothing grows underground, of course. No grass or soil to grow it, and there was no true light, save for the forges and fires burning.”

“None at all? Did you never go outside..?” Bilbo asked. He had known dwarves were the type to mostly stay underground, but such a concept still seemed so foreign to him. Hobbits were known to spend practically all of their time outdoors, and there was light everywhere he could remember. Thorin, however, shook his head.

“Dwarves in that time were born into the darkness of caves. They grew used to seeing rock instead of sky, and I was no different. From the moment I could walk, my time was devoted to training, watching my grandfather as he ruled so I could one day take his place. Learning of the kingdom and its people, of how to protect and serve them, everything a young prince must know,” Thorin explained. His eyes cast toward the ground as he hunched over, deep in thought. It seemed a painful memory sprung from his words without his meaning to. “There was no time for anything but such duties, especially as my grandfather’s health began to fail...” 

Thorin trailed off with regret held in his eyes. 

“There was little I knew of the world outside of Erebor’s halls, and that’s how it would have stayed were it not for the snake residing there now,” The exiled king finished with bitten words. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry to hear it.” 

“I have no need of your pity,” Thorin’s words were said without malice. Instead, they were filled with shame, like he believed he did not deserve sympathy. Like this horror was his fault, somehow. “Especially from someone who knows a very different life.”

“Actually, it doesn’t sound completely different.” 

The dwarf’s taken aback look was all he needed to continue.

“I mean, I certainly wasn’t an heir to a kingdom, but in the Shire you didn’t go much of anywhere else. Sometimes to Bree if you were the type, but that would get you odd looks from the rest of town, and by no means were you considered the respectable sort. In fact, I’m sure by now I’ve probably been declared mad beyond all reason, going off on adventures with strange dwarves and a wizard.”

The light brown curls framing Bilbo’s face bounced when he chuckled. Thorin found himself wondering why he noticed this. 

“Hobbits simply don’t care much for learning what outside the Shire borders holds. We don’t get visitors, and we don’t do any visiting of our own. So..I suppose in that regard, I understand not knowing much else but what expectations you’ve been born to,” Bilbo finished with a hesitant smile. It was a smile simply for Thorin in that moment, reserved for his eyes and his eyes alone. And yet, the dwarf looked away, startled by its intimacy.

“I see both our clans have deemed us mad, then,” Thorin said, clearing his throat to hide the sudden topic shift.

“How do you mean?”

“The other dwarrow leaders called our quest a fool’s death sentence. I made mention of it before we left your home, but in truth they did not use as-- encouraging-- words as I led the others to believe,” The words of mockery bounced back bitterly to the forefront of his mind. “They believe we won’t make it alive to even reach the mountain. It is why we take on this task alone.”

Bilbo’s mouth twitched in thought again. “Well,” He began, “Perhaps they’re right.”

Thorin’s shock bubbled up instantly, paired with a list of insults in Khuzdul that he had half a mind to repeat from the aforementioned dwarrow council. The hobbit knew that look and raised his arms in defense.

“What I mean to say is, yes, perhaps you won’t reach the mountain, perhaps that’s how we’re fated to finish, but,” Bilbo took a breath, calmed his nerves, “It is still a noble cause to see through the end. And I know each of those who’ve followed you this far would agree. Anyone who doubts you hasn’t got the courage to see it as such.”

Thorin’s eyes softened. He looked down at the smaller creature, such a curious thing by anyone’s standards. A hobbit of the Shire, fond of books, green gardens, and the comforts of home, and yet it is he who has remedied his doubts of his birthright. 

“...Thank you.”

Bilbo simply nodded. Even if he himself wasn’t fit for this journey, he truly did hope these dwarves would succeed. They’d all lost so much when their home was taken from them. Especially Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield, who’d braved unfathomable death and destruction and still stood, facing up against an almost impossible task. And here he was, thanking a small hobbit for mere words. 

Their lives could not be more different-- and still, they were familiar. 

A soft, shining glow from the middle of the garden grove brought their attention away from one another. Dozens and dozens of fireflies had snuck their way closer and completely surrounded the pair on the bench. Their patterns blinked and glimmered for all to see, with shimmering water nearby to exemplify the view. Thorin, surprisingly, was the one captivated most. His cobalt blue eyes shimmered from their reflection, trained on their light.

“Perhaps you were right. About us being raised too differently,” The hobbit mused. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the king become a prince again. “I don’t remember being so enthralled by the nightly fireflies.”

Thorin chuckled. A small, but genuine, bout of humor. Honestly, it almost shocked  Bilbo into the next age.

“Forgive me. I suppose I just never stopped to notice them before. Not in all my journeys across Middle Earth,” His smile lingered. Bilbo’s brightened. 

They held such a gaze for some time in comfortable silence. At first meeting, Thorin had sized up the simple hobbit for a commoner, unfit for the wilds of the journey the company had planned to cross. And perhaps that was still the case. Only time would tell if Bilbo was truly a loyal member of this quest, but for now, they had this moment to share.

That is, until Gandalf’s voice was heard passing along the bridge mentioning the dwarven king by name.

[creativelyderangedme]

Checking Sources

I’m taking a stab at the trope I’ve seen all over the place recently. But with a different twist. Oneshot - might continue if I get the desire.

“Ladybug?”

Paris’ spotted heroine jumped slightly after being pulled from her thoughts. She’d been staring out over the city’s glittering lights, lost to the maelstrom of voices and recalled memories swarming her mind with a thoughtful (at least she hoped it was) frown on her lips. So much so, that she hadn’t noticed when her leather-clad partner had shown up to sit next to her on a night he was supposed to be taking off.

When the hell had he gotten there? She wondered, looking around quickly for any indication of how long she’d been stuck in her own head. 

“Hey Chaton, what are you doing out here? It’s my night to patrol.” She asked as another entirely panicked thought came to mind - that she’d been so dazed she’d missed the tell-tale signs of an Akuma.

But, before she could freak out any further, she took in Chat’s relative ease - or at least, he didn’t look like he was on the verge of jumping into a fight. He did seem apprehensive, though. She could tell in the way it tensed and squeezed his shoulders together like he wanted to be close, but wouldn’t dare come in contact with her.

Which made her wonder if she’d said or done anything recently to give him the idea he was overstepping his bounds. Or maybe he was mad at her for something? And wasn’t that just the icing on the cake that was her day? 

First, Lila had caused a major scene that got Marinette detention for the rest of the week (it all happened so fast, she barely remembers what the hell had even happened). Now she was having a panic attack over whether her partner was mad at her for something she didn’t remember doing? Who else was she going to piss off today?

“What’s your stance on sharing your identity?”

Panic attack on momentary pause, a dark brow shot up at the question, and if she wasn’t so wary of the way he’d said it with that uncomfortable look on his face, she probably would have been angry. But he seemed so off tonight that it was throwing her usual emotions for a loop. So, choosing not to go off on her partner, she sighed heavily, trying to keep her focus on him despite the bubbling irritation, “Chat, I’m sorry, but we’ve talked about this. Our identities are a secret for a reason.”

For the first time since he sat down (she thinks), she sees him glance her way if only slightly. The uncomfortable look on his face had softened a bit but he still has something unreadable in his eyes that makes Ladybug anxious, “So... you’ve never shared your identity? With anyone? Not accidentally or otherwise?”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say his words were a little accusatory. 

Which, okay first off, what the fuck? And second, why was he suddenly giving her the third degree? 

Again, though, the entire display was throwing her and she knew she had to be rational about this. 

“No. Of course not. I promised you didn’t I? Once Hawkmoth was defeated, you would be the first person I told.” She stated as calmly and resolutely as she possibly can. She’d been clear from the start where she stood on the subject. 

As soon as the words left her mouth, Chat Noir visibly relaxed. Shoulders slumping and a breath heaving from his chest as he nodded, “Right. Right, of course.” He finally managed to turn to look at her and the discomfort was quickly hidden by a small smile.

The shift in his attitude was almost as disconcerting as his arrival.

“What is this about, Chatton?”

That smile faltered a bit as he looked away from her again, “There’s this-” he began but his words died before he shook his head, “No, it’s - it’s nothing. Sorry for bothering you about this. It was stupid.” 

Chat made to stand, but Ladybug caught his wrist before he could get away, “Obviously not if it brought you out here as upset as you looked. I know I can be a real stickler about the secret identities thing, but Chat, I’m not doing this to hurt you. I promise!” She implored, feeling like she’d missed something major. “If you’re being hurt or-”

Blonde hair flew as he shook his head quickly, “No, no. Nothing like that. Really. I know why you do. I won’t pretend it doesn’t suck, but I get it. Really, I do.” He tried to assure her, and while it did seem like he understood and he was being honest with her, he was still hiding something. Something that had driven him to come out and ask her these strange questions.

“Then what was all of this about?”

He had the decency to look apologetic at least as the corners of his mouth pulled up and he shook his head again, “It’s too personal - talking about it might give me away, Bugaboo, but I really am sorry about this. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Ladybug’s eyes darted back and forth as she watched him closely, but eventually, hesitantly, she let go of his wrist and allowed him to get up.

The whole conversation left an unsettling anxiousness over her and a rather uncomfortable tenseness in the air between them as he backed away and saluted before she even had the chance to say anything - disappearing into the night.

That unease followed her home and through her restless sleep and when she woke up the next morning, she couldn’t help but let it consume her thoughts. Distracting her as she made her way to class earlier than usual.

Distracting her so much, in fact, that she almost didn’t notice the crowd gathered around two individuals crammed into her usual seat next to Alya giggling and talking loudly.

Almost.

As much as she hated it, Marinette had developed something of a sixth sense for the Italian exchange student Lila Rossi. A personal radar to warn her of the liar’s presence.

And it was going off big time.

It wasn’t uncommon for Lila to try and steal her spot when she could. Usually, it resulted in some sort of argument between Marinette and Alya when her supposed best friend defended the other girl for just wanting to hang out, and why didn’t she try being nice to the girl for once?

This time, though, Marinette was quickly made aware of three things:

1. Lila wasn’t alone.

2. Whoever this other girl was, she and Lila were already very close and that didn’t bode well for anyone - especially Marinette.

3. Adrien, who was an unfortunate captive in the crowd around his desk, looked really uncomfortable - more so than usual as he openly frowned at the desktop in front of him, trying not to associate with the things going on around him.

What the hell was going on? Marinette had only been gone from class for one afternoon! 

Alya was the first to notice her entrance to the class, giving her an unsure look from her seat (she had been pretty mad at her yesterday for whatever it was that landed her detention for the week), causing a ripple effect as Lila and her ‘guest’ looked up at her too, quieting down and catching everyone else’ attention.

The unfamiliar girl sized the noirette up before speaking, “Is this the girl you were telling me about?”

Lila put on her biggest, fakest, puppy-dog eyes and nodded softly, watching Marinette like she might lunge at her any second now. 

Like parting the red sea, the unfamiliar girl stood from her place at Marinette’s desk and the crowd around her gave her room to move, allowing her to make her way to stand haughtily before her. The girl was a tad taller than Marinette, but the platform sandals she wore made it so Marinette would need to look up at her slightly. She had dark, almost black, shoulder-length hair that hung loosely, but the color of her brows made it clear that it wasn’t natural. She’d dyed it, recently too, if the lack of root discoloration was any indication.

Marinette watched her approach with a raised brow, unimpressed by the superior gleam to the girl’s blue-green eyes.

“I heard you’ve been bullying my best friend.” She said, authoritatively, her hands propped on hips clad in Gabriel branded jeans.

There was a collective gasp among her classmates like this was some big reveal in a soap opera. 

The class rep merely blinked a moment, brow still raised because who the fuck even was this girl and why was she squaring up to her like she even had a chance? Actually, no, she didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Marinette asked, but her tone gave away how few fucks she actually gave about the girl’s answer.

“For your information, it’s Bianca. I just transferred yesterday. But don’t change the subject. I’ve heard that you’ve been bullying my best friend Lila.”

Before Bianca had a chance to say any more, Marinette gave her a deadpanned look, “Well, sorry to inform you, but your best friend is a liar.”

Lila could immediately be heard breaking out into sobs somewhere in the background but Marinette was quickly losing interest in this conversation. 

“I don’t think she is. I think you’re the liar. In fact, I think people like you are what’s wrong with Paris. Always trying to hurt others so they get Akumatized and I have to clean up your mess.”

I’m sorry, what? 

That had Bluebell eyes snapping to focus on the girl in front of her. Interest piqued. 

“I’m giving you one chance. Stop being a menace to society or my partner and I will take action.”

There was quite a bit to unpack from that. Like... a lot. Menace to society? Partner? Take action?

Who did this girl think she was? Ladybug?

The one thing that seemed clear to Marinette after reviewing the word choices in her own head a few times, was that this was not a friendly recommendation.

“Are you threatening me?”

She probably should have sounded a little angrier. In fact, anything would have been better than bored. But she just couldn’t find the energy. 

A triumphant smile spread over Bianca’s face, as she disregarded the lack of fear in Marinette’s voice, “I don’t threaten people. But that is a promise.”

Marinette was left to blink at her a little longer. 

Because what even was happening here? What on earth had she done that the universe saw fit to drop this steaming pile of bull on her morning?

And why did it feel like the girl was hinting at something she wasn’t picking up on? Why was her body telling her that she needed to react while her brain was taking its sweet time to catch up with everything?

“Dude,” someone from the peanut gallery stage whispered, finding it in their heart to give her a helping hand, “That’s Ladybug!”

Lila shushed them loudly, “Guys, not everyone is supposed to know! We don’t know who we can trust!”

Oh.

oohhhhh!

Wow. When she’d made that comment in her head before, she’d been joking but... seriously? Did she really just?

“You’re Ladybug?” Marinette asked, wanting to clarify and make absolutely certain that she hadn’t just imagined that last forty-five seconds of her life.

Bianca’s chin raised, literally looking down her nose at Marinette, “Normally I wouldn’t share that information with someone like you.”

Behind her, Adrien stood from his seat looking absolutely livid, but Marinette barely had a moment to even register the malice in the gaze he pointed at Bianca before - 

Pfft...

Marinette covered her mouth with her hand to stop it, but nothing could hold back the onslaught now. 

They were giggles at first, tumbling from her in waves as she tried to clear her throat and treat this seriously. But before long, she couldn’t help it. She was laughing out loud, doubling over, completely ignorant (maybe not completely, but she didn’t care at this point) to the looks of confusion on the faces around her.

She made the mistake of looking back up at Bianca and that only renewed her laughing fit until it literally brought her to her knees, clutching her sides as she laughed so hard she cried.

Fucking cried.

It was a solid five or six minutes before she could breathe again. Sitting back up, wiping the tears from her eyes, she beamed at the girl standing awkwardly before her, “Wow. Thanks. I really needed that.”

She cleared her throat, clearly unsure of the strange behavior. She couldn’t blame her for that. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“All of it. Really.” She stood up from the floor, making a show of dusting off her pants before turning her full attention back on the girl. 

Because this was going to be fun.

“So, Ladybug, tell me this; if I’m such a menace to society, why would you entrust me with a miraculous?”

Bianca's smirk faltered, her eyes darting over to Lila for a moment, both of them looking a little lost for words. As was everyone else for that matter.

Even Alya, whose mouth hung open at this revelation. But the reporter flew to her phone, swiping quickly, "when?! There were no new heroes! How do we know you're not lying?"

Oh good. They were playing right into it. One thing you could always count on with sheeple... they always follow.

"Huh, well, then I guess if you can’t believe me at my word, it would be pretty easy to fact check." Her tone was a bit forced on those words and the reporter had the decency to look taken aback, "You could always just ask Ladybug, here."

"Well I-"

"Or you could ask her partner. Seeing as how he saw me transform."

Bianca's mouth snapped shut. It was still hit or miss whether or not Marinette was bluffing. And it's easy to claim something like that when the only other person who could confirm or deny the facts was not present.

This had been Lila’s game the whole time. The difference was, Marinette wasn’t lying.

But neither of them could take that chance.

Because neither of them knew what she knew.

And Ladybug was definitely in this room, but it wasn’t who they all thought it was.

"I asked her to give you a chance. Because I wanted to help you. I thought being a hero would make you a better person. But you just kept bullying me!"

"E-exactly."

Ah, so they were going to go this route, hmm? She could work with that. And given Lila’s proclivity for being Akumatized, maybe she could mess with Hawkmoth too while she was at it. 

Because it was only a matter of time before someone was targeted.

"How very generous of you, Lila," She said in her sweetest voice possible, but even to her own ears, it sounded fake. How did Lila keep this up all the time? “But, that’s not what you said on the tower when we fought that Akuma together.”

"What did you think I would say when you were obviously unfit to be a Hero! I didn’t want to risk you turning on me.”

“You didn’t think I was unfit when I helped save you and Chat Noir.” This time, it felt a little more realistic when she put the hurt look on her face, glancing away.

In the process, she caught sight of Adrien giving her a strange look. One she couldn’t really put a name to. But it was different than all of her other classmates. Why did he seem so much more confused than the others? 

The girl scoffed, "leave my partner out of this." She demanded, and it felt like a desperate attempt at redirecting the conversation. 

Fine. She could work with that too.

"You... do know that your 'partner' is my best friend, right?" She turned an apologetic look to Alya she only half meant, "sorry Als, but - you know," Marinette pointed between the two of them indicating the distance that had grown between them. They weren't nearly as close as they'd used to be. And while they were still friends, Marinette had a hard time categorizing her as her 'best friend'.

And the implication wasn't wasted on the reporter either. She was left staring wide with bewilderment and hurt. But Marinette was less positive it was because of not being best friends anymore and more that she hadn't told Alya that she spent time with one of the heroes she loved to chase.

"My partner would never hang out with someone like you."

God, she was just a broken record, wasn’t she? Did she really still think she was bluffing?

With a scoff and a soft shake of her head, Marinette pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped through her pictures until she found what she was looking for.

She wasnt trying to be smug about the way she flipped her phone around so she could show the class, but she definitely couldn't help the little smirk that pulled at her lips as the class gasped again, pulling closer so they could study the photo.

A photo of her and Chat Noir sitting a little too close together on her chaise lounge. Marinette sticking her tongue out at the camera, while chat gave the overly kawaii victory peace sign over his left eye like he was straight out of an anime. It was one of her favorites. They'd spent nearly the whole night binging on shows together after a particularly stressful day. The pictures had been a side effect of too much sugar, not enough sleep, and good company. And for some reason when Chat found out she’d been Multimouse, that increased her ‘coolness factor’ and they had something in common.

Of course, she couldn’t tell him that wasn’t the only thing they had in common.

Either way, it had brought them closer together as friends and they hung out often. 

Which was a reprieve given that most of her friends had abandoned her anyway. 

As Bianca stared a little blankly at the picture, a number of voices all began to pick up around them.

"You're actually friends with chat noir? That's so cool!"

“Does that mean you hang out with the other heroes too?”

“What is Chat Noir really like?”

"Wait, then that means you really were a hero? I thought heroes had to keep their identities secret."

That’s the one she’d been waiting on. Quickly silencing the others with a pointed look back at Bianca, "They do. But I'm not a hero anymore, am I Ladybug?"

"I-I..."

"Why was it again that I’m not allowed to be Multimouse again?" She put a thoughtful finger to her chin, but she felt her own fire building in her core, “I’m pretty sure it was nothing to do with being a menace to society.”

She tapped her chin a few more times, looking around deep in thought. Catching another glimpse of Adrien studying her carefully, but she refused to let his perfectness distract her because fuck these people.

Fuck the high road.

If he was going to be mad at her for standing up for her alter-ego then fuck him too.

But he didn’t seem mad. 

In fact, as soon as she locked eyes with him, a slight smirk pulled at his lips. It was roguish and totally out of place on his angelic face, but goddamn did it do things for her.

But the smirk paired with the slightly raised brow aimed at her said, ‘Yes, what did Ladybug say?’

It’s sarcastic and playful and familiar in ways her heart is not ready to admit.

But that would have to come later.

Marinette spun back to the imposter, narrowing her eyes dangerously, "Oh right! Because I'd accidentally revealed my identity to Chat Noir. Because identities are supposed to remain a secret."

"W-well th-there are exceptions!" Bianca tries to defend, but Marinette isn’t going to let her.

“No, I think you, just like your supposed best friend, are a liar. You’re not Ladybug. You don’t know a damn thing about Ladybug. Because if you were, you’d already have been beaten. You’ve been in this classroom all of what, one day? And the entire class already knows your ‘identity’? We’re all lucky you aren’t one of the heroes, otherwise, Hawkmoth would already have won!”

She was fuming now. All of the emotions finally catching up with her. She thrust an accusatory finger at Bianca, making the girl stumble back slightly, “You don’t know a damn thing about what it takes to be a hero. What they have to sacrifice to keep people safe. Besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t even know each other's identities - why the hell would Ladybug share something like that with a classroom full of people who’ve been Akumatized at least once and not share that with her own partner?!”

Whatever fear she’d instilled in the new girl quickly swapped for something much closer to fury as she reclaimed her balance and advanced on Marinette with a fire burning in her eyes. “How dare you call me a liar, you little fucking brat!” 

Surprised at the outburst, Marinette didn’t move when she saw Bianca raise her hand to strike her, instead, closing her eyes and bracing for the blow.

A blow that never connected. 

A gasp brought Marinette to peak open her eyes before they widened at the scene.

Bianca stood where she had previously, hand raised and poised to strike. But just behind her, Adrien had moved - impossibly quick, seriously when the hell had she gotten up? - and grabbed the girl’s arm, hand clutching tightly at her, keeping her still.

“A-Adrien!”

“That’s enough.” He hissed at her, voice low and threatening. “If it wasn’t clear before, it definitely is now. You’re not Ladybug. She would never raise a hand to a civilian like that!”

“B-but - !” Lila tried to come to her ‘friend’s’ defense but was silenced when he shot her an equally terrifying look.

“I’ve had enough of you trying to turn everyone against Marinette. I knew you both were lying when you ‘accidentally’ revealed Ladybug’s identity to me yesterday, but I didn’t have proof to prove it. You’ve been lying to everyone about everything!”

Wait... The way he’d said accidentally... why did it seem so familiar? 

Her thoughts of the blonde-haired, green-eyed model were very suddenly replaced with thoughts of a similarly blonde-haired, green-eyed superhero who’d come looking for her on his night off, asking if she’d ever ‘revealed herself, accidentally or otherwise’.

“Adrien! Y-you’re hurting me!”

Marinette’s eyes were drawn to the boy’s hand, still tightly clutching Bianca’s in a vice grip that would likely leave bruises.

But that’s not what she was focused on. Instead, it was the familiar shape of his silver ring that drew her eye. Familiar because she’d seen him wear it since the first day she’d met him and never took it off. 

Except for the day they’d done the shoot for her website.

The day she and Chat had to switch Miraculouses.

Adrien.

Adrien was Chat Noir.

Her kitty had been there the entire time.

That’s why he’d been so angry. That’s why he’d looked so upset. That’s why he’d come looking for her and asking such strange questions!

Because Lila and her lackey had chosen the one person who’d know for a fact that they were lying.

And if she thought she couldn’t love him any more than she already did, she was sorely mistaken.

“What is going on in here?!”

Great.

She didn’t pay much attention to the chaos that ensued after Madame Bustier had walked in the room. Lila and Bianca had claimed Marinette attacked and Adrien had stepped in to help her and they were both sent to the hall because a number of people started speaking up and coming to their defense, suddenly not blinded by Lila’s lies any longer.

But now, she was standing in the hall next to her crush and her partner. 

“I’m so sorry Marinette.”

Her thoughts came to a startling halt as she turned wide eyes on him.

“I shouldn’t have ever told you not to call her out. I was stupid. I just hope you’ll forgive me someday.”

Marinette couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips, because how could she not have noticed? Model or not, that was the heart of her partner beating in that beautiful body of his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Adrien. Besides, at least you checked your sources.” She chuckled, finding so much irony in that statement. If he hadn’t come looking for her, she probably wouldn’t have put it together.

He turned a confused look on her.

The smile she turned on him in return was brighter than she’d given anyone in some time, “I told you, didn’t I? You’d be the first to know.”