#the relief of not being there followed by the absolute dread when someone asks him about Roland | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keouil · 3 months ago

Text

as long as the sun remains the sun

"rise and shine, boys!" mattsun yells over the drowsy first years, banging pots and pans together. "rome wasn't built in a day!" "we're japanese!" tsukishima barks. 5k. iwaizumi/oikawa/kageyama. camping!au. also on ao3.

Asahi is the one who breaks first.

“WHAT THE FRICK!!” came a decidedly shrill, possibly embarrassing, surely pathetic scream from over all the way at the other side of the camp that had Iwaizumi snap his head in that direction and Oikawa inch closer to him almost imperceptibly.

"Don't tell me—" Suga shakes his head at the same time Daichi curses low under his breath, "What now."

A dozen things happen at once in rapid succession.

Noya sprints to the direction of the voice, Hinata close on his tail because he was basically His Tail. Ennoshita scrambling after them after Suga hissed at him to not just stand there and follow. Yahaba quirking an eyebrow at the elementary choice of a curse word, Narita catching his judgment and getting all up in his space until he apologized, Tanaka acting as his back-up.

Daichi, who had so far been in the middle of a passionate rant detailing Karasuno’s dependability when it came to these things—What things, Mattsun interjected. Roughhousing and getting our hands dirty, Suga supplied proudly—when Asahi all but debunked it in less than the time it took for Makki to count heads as soon as they arrived at the campsite.

“Your kid is missing,” Makki comments, looking over the list of attendees.

“Ours?” Oikawa asks, at the same time Daichi stands up, “Probably mine.”

Makki looks back and forth between them, suddenly feeling unsteady on his feet and fumbling around for an out. Iwaizumi knows exactly the reason why, and voices it out loud for everyone to hear: “It’s Kageyama.”

Again, a dozen things happen at once.

Daichi gasps out in horror, head whipping around the campsite.

Mattsun palms his forehead, already dreading the absolutely normal reaction he was absolutely going to get from Oikawa.

Suga decides he wants to permanently end Iwaizumi’s life for the multiple grave offenses he’d been committing against his soul throughout the day: getting the last window seat on the bus, being a loud snorer, breathing near him and making it his problem, choosing gluten-free marshmallows at the rest stop like a deranged psychopath. He told him as much at check-out, You’re a deranged psychopath and I don’t trust my first years with you, Suga admonished. Likewise, Iwaizumi replied, looking menacingly down at the copious amounts of sugary pastries in his basket. And you’re not feeding my first years this shit.

And really it was that bold and unfounded sense of entitlement that had Suga adding another box, more out of sheer spite than anything as he passed him, glaring, Watch me.

"We've been here less than an hour," Makki looks around in confusion, exasperated. "How have we already lost one of them. What exactly could have happened in less than an hour."

Suga and Daichi look at each other.

"Hinata," they say at the same time.

They find Kageyama lost in the woods.

It’s Iwaizumi, best tracker on the team and just generally more adaptable to wilderness survival, who finds him holding onto his duffel bag for dear life under the bark of an ancient looking tree. He apparently challenged Hinata to a race on who can get to the campsite first and got thoroughly sidetracked by the similar looking trees and having ostensibly no sense of direction or self-preservation, huddled in an open area easily accessible to rain or wild animals.

Iwaizumi sighed and mentally noted for later: Teach Kageyama basic life skills, that he then revises to, Make Sugawara teach Kageyama basic life skills.

“Kageyama,” he says, approaching the clearing. Kageyama’s head snaps up and the look of such open relief on his face tugs at Iwaizumi’s heart a little, because it really was so easy, to slip into a senpai complex for someone like him. “You okay?”

Kageyama blinks. "I-Iwaizumi-san," he starts hesitantly, standing up on shaking legs. "I—"

"Got lost," Iwaizumi answers for him. "I know. We've been looking for you for a while."

Kageyama flushes. "You have?"

"You mean you haven't been hearing your vice captain call your name bloody for the past hour?" Iwaizumi tries for a joke. Only it's not really, because Suga was swearing himself raw, if not for Daichi reminding him to preserve his voice for later.

But Kageyama still just blinks, still so disoriented, still so wet behind the ears no matter the facade he puts up.

"Right then," Iwaizumi clears his throat, beckoning him over. "Let's go."

Kageyama all but trips over his feet to follow after him, clutching his bag even tighter to his chest as he hangs off Iwaizumi’s every word.

“The next time you find yourself lost in the woods,” he starts explaining. “Try tracking the movement of the sun.” When he looks over to check if Kageyama was listening, instead notes the absolute gobsmacked expression on his face in return, amends just as quickly: "Oh, he says. “You can just — follow the sunset.”

Kageyama begins vehemently nodding, scrambling to get a notebook out and listing all the other things Iwaizumi was rattling off about when it came to Camping Survival 101. Don't eat this, he points to a patch of enticing ivy. Only drink from fresh water sources like rivers or streams, he adds. But if you find yourself in a pinch, carve out an opening from a tree and wait for the water to follow.

By the time they make it back to camp, Oikawa has half the Karasuno team—and some of Seijoh—in a formation line much like a militant officer does with its army lines, barking out orders to fan out across the different areas of the campsite. Go to the forest, ordered Oikawa at Noya. Try the trail behind the waterfalls, he yelled at Kyotani.

Daichi and Suga sported uniform looks of indignation as Oikawa looked an hour away from splitting his hair out in frustration.

“If someone doesn’t get Tobio back by midnight,” he warns the rest. “I swear to G—”

Iwaizumi coughs.

Oikawa doesn’t turn, doesn’t even acknowledge his return. He senses it, Iwaizumi knows, the change in the air and the very real presence Kageyama takes up in any space. So instead his shoulders just stiffen, tilting his head their way just so.

“I mean,” Oikawa coughs, loudly and not at all awkwardly. “Tobio can sleep in the rain for all I care!” he claps. “Right then, back to unpacking!"

Naturally, as with all order of things, sleeping arrangements go by as smoothly as everyone expects.

“No.”

“At least look at it.”

“No.”

"You didn't even look!"

"I said no."

Yamaguchi looked like he was tempted by the devil himself to throw a log Kunimi’s way. “Oi,” he hisses, growing annoyed. “What’s so wrong with this sleeping bag? It’s the same as everyone else’s.”

Kunimi cast a bored glance at the pack Yamaguchi was holding up, all neatly folded and prepped for use. “It’s orange,” he deadpans. “I hate orange.”

“It’s just a color!” yells Yamaguchi. “It functions exactly the same!”

“Then why don’t you use it?” Kunimi lifts a brow. Behind them, they can hear Hinata yelling at Kageyama to move his sleeping bag by the outskirts of the camp, his longer than usual pack taking up half the space designated for the first years. Kindaichi looked equally awkward trying to fit himself and his belongings in what little space they were allowed to take up. “If it’s basically the same thing anyway?”

Yamaguchi breathes once, twice. “It’s not for me,” he explains slowly. “None of our sleeping bags fit Tsukki. He needs a longer one like Kageyama’s.”

Kunimi crosses his arms in defiance. “And that’s my problem because?”

Yamaguchi has half the mind to call out for Daichi, or Iwaizumi, or literally anyone else who could demonstrate even a modicum of empathy so clearly lacking in Kunimi.

"You don’t even need it!” he gestures wildly to the mint green one by his legs. “You can use the large one like everyone else’s! Tsukki can't use anything else but extra large!”

Kunimi huffs, brushing past him. “I’m not like everyone else,” delivered in the same cadence as a main character in a 2000s romcom who finally decides she's better than everyone and doesn't need a man to fulfil her needs both emotionally and physically.

"What the fuck," Yamaguchi swears under his breath as he stared after him.

He turns his head in time to see Hinata and Kageyama running around and demanding Kindaichi to share his insect repellant spray, along with some of the manga he brought, telling him to not be so selfish and stop hoarding all the survival items. Iwaizumi stops them all with a glare and forces Kindaichi to share, Hinata to shut up, and Kageyama to let him know if he needs anything else.

"What the fuck," Yamaguchi swears under his breath as he stared after them.

By the time dinner rolls around, everyone is either pissy (first years), amused (second years), or elated (third years).

They were all lounging about the makeshift campfire that took all afternoon to build, the warmth of the fire lighting up everyone's features along with the moonlight streaming in through the gaps in the trees. It was unusually cold that night, a breeze in the air that began from deep in the forest until it tapered out to just north of chilly in their site. But even so, the expressions on everyone's faces felt far more frosty.

Oikawa is the first to pick up the tension.

He leans over to whisper as much to Daichi, who was busy arranging the logs in the fire. “I think,” he starts curiously. "Something is going on."

Daichi looks up to survey around the camp, taking stock of his own kin and then some.

Hinata and Kageyama are, predictably, huffing and puffing and very pointedly looking away from each other because God knows what and who has the time. Yamaguchi has been apologizing for the better part of ten minutes, very nearly close to begging to a Tsukishima who hasn't even so much as glanced his way, because God knows what and who has the time. Kunimi and Kindaichi are the only ones who at least look mildly cohabitative, but then again Daichi thinks he’s never seen them be anything but bored and nervous, respectively and in equal measures.

His eyes trail over everyone—in various states of pissed, amused, elated—before giving up and shrugging, “God knows what and who has the time.”

But evidently, Suga and Iwaizumi do.

“Well well well,” Suga cooes, straddling up to where the first years were, sensing turmoil between Yamaguchi and Kunimi. "What say we turn those frowns upside down?"

"Oh god," Yamaguchi audibly groans into his hands. "Please stop."

Kunimi looks on in horror at a grinning Suga, slowly inching away from the fire before Iwaizumi clamped a hand on his shoulder, "Not so fast."

Yamaguchi and Kunimi lock eyes in a rare moment of unity. There was an internal conversation happening in the span of a second, before both of them, as if on cue, break open.

"HE WON'T GIVE ME HIS BAG!"

"HE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Iwaizumi puts both his palms up. "Bedside voices, boys," he chides, stern. Suga instinctively took a step back at the sound, but rights himself on time as he comes up next to Iwaizumi. "Yes yes," he agrees. "What he said."

Across the crackling of the fire, Daichi looks on impassively as Oikawa sports a drool.

"Think we should do something?" Daichi nods to the almost ridiculous scene of Yamaguchi and Kunimi both kneeling by the dirt, heads bowed low in shame as Iwaizumi rattled off about team camaraderie and the importance of communication. Suga was animatedly agreeing along to whatever he was saying and sporting his own That's right! That's right! comments from time to time. "We are technically their captains."

"Captains, shmantains," Oikawa mumbles distractedly, and when Daichi turns to look, notes in annoyance his attention wasn't even directed at the scolding but more so the matters of Iwaizumi's backside in shorts. "We do enough. We work hard. We earned this."

Daichi coughs awkwardly. "Earned what, exactly."

Oikawa doesn't even budge, stars shooting out of his eyes as he gave possibly the most obvious and inappropriate once-over Daichi has ever seen in his life. And he's seen Tanaka with Kiyoko.

"This," he says, gesturing to Iwaizumi and in Oikawa's words, "glorious display of aesthetic athleticism."

They threaten everyone with suicide runs the next morning.

If there was anything at all both third years unanimously agreed on—aside from their perverse sense of ownership over exactly who it was that raised Kageyama, with Iwaizumi putting up a surprisingly good fight—it was the equally perverse sense of joy they derived from torturing underclassmen. The sun was glaringly bright, the blue of the clouds so open, and the ringing voices of their seniors all the more jarring.

"Rise and shine, boys!" Mattsun yells over the drowsy first years, banging pots and pans together. "Rome wasn't built in a day!"

"We're Japanese!" Tsukishima barks, putting the covers back up on his head.

Suga just yanks his blanket from his sleeping bag, earning him a death glare he expertly deflects with a smile that was deceptively way too chipper for someone he swears he heard yelling at Daichi during Golden Week to shut his phone up or he was going to hurl it across the Pacific Ocean.

"Japanese, Yappanese," Makki strolls over to shake Kageyama and Hinata off of their matching sleeping bags. "Today, you're all under our command."

Hinata just rolls over Kageyama.

Kageyama just lets him.

Makki curls a brow, a single foot raised to kick them before Oikawa gets there first, pushing him away. "I got it," he says. "Jesus Christ, Makki, they're children."

"We're sixteen!" bites out Tsukishima again, who was now being forcibly dragged by Mattsun along with Kunimi and Kindaichi to the shower stalls. "And we have legal rights! My brother will hear about this!"

"Your aniki will be glad someone finally put your spoiled ass in place," Daichi declares, trying to separate Hinata from their tangle of limbs. From his peripheral, he can see Asahi gently trying to get Yamaguchi to stop mumbling in his sleep. "He sends his regards by the way! Saeko-neesan too, Tanaka!"

"Tobio," Oikawa crouches, rocking his sleeping bag. "Tobio," he says again, shaking his shoulder. "Tobio," he hisses directly next to him. Nothing. Oikawa breathes once, twice, before standing up and very pointedly bringing a leg up to stamp on him before Iwaizumi, too, beats him to it.

"What the fuck," he swears, putting a hand out to stop him. "So much for them being children!"

Oikawa has his mouth open to retort, before a ball of orange fur snowballs its way past them and lumps itself together again with the black mass that was Kageyama. They hear Daichi stomping over the next second, cursing under his breath at Hinata for once again getting past him.

"Kageyama.." Hinata mumbles into his hair sleepily, and to their horror, sees Kageyama actually melting into the embrace almost unconsciously. "Think... someone's calling.. Let's.. ignore.. if.. Tsukishima."

By the time they wrangle everyone awake and slap water on their faces, Daichi and Oikawa are only too happy to introduce them to the 10-km hiking trail everyone was required to complete.

"Mind," recalls Oikawa, looking over his nails in boredom. "We heard there were some snakes in the more woodsy areas."

"Bears too," adds Daichi, grinning.

"Bears too," affirms Oikawa, also grinning.

Kyotani and Tanaka try to run.

Iwaizumi hauls them both back by the necks of their shirts, all pearly white teeth in the shit-eating grin on his face when he dumps them back on the line. Hinata shudders and rapidly gets his phone out, shaking hands wobbly typing out his last will and testament to an incoherent text meant for Kenma; when a hand shoots out to yank it out of his hands. Mattsun, grinning down on him like a feline cat, as he then began patting everyone down and demanding they surrender their electronics. Next to him, they can hear Yamaguchi pleading for his life to a bored Makki.

Suga doesn't answer to a single one of their cries for help.

Asahi just hid cowardly behind him.

Daichi whistles to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright then,” he grins over the growing crowd and uses their agony to fuel his adrenaline higher. Oikawa was doing the same. “With this, we formally welcome you to the Annual Karasuno-Seijoh Summer Teambuilding Camp!”

Oikawa’s smile fades a little at that. “I thought we agreed on Seijoh-Karasuno?”

“Are you perhaps a secret fujoshi?” Daichi asks innocently.

Oikawa blinks. “I—” he starts, unsurely, ignoring Suga chuckling behind him. “I don’t particularly think so, no.”

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Daichi snaps, turning his attention back to their first and second years who were only growing more creative with their complaints and vain attempts at getting out of the day’s torture activities.

"I sprained my ankle," whines Hinata.

"You're our fastest runner," rebuts Suga.

"I'm allergic to trees," pipes Kindaichi.

"Not a thing," offers Mattsun.

"My sister said no," weeps Tanaka.

"You wanna try that again?" warns Daichi.

Iwaizumi clasps his hands together. "Enough!" he booms. If Oikawa inched closer to him in turn, everyone has the good foresight to keep their mouths shut about it. "Are we doing this or what?"

"Y-yes, Iwaizumi-san!" the first and second years chorus.

Now both Oikawa and Daichi's faces fell.

"Why do they always only listen to him?" wonders Suga, falling into step with the third years at the rear of the line. The first years were ahead, yelling and grovelling and swearing all their seniors rotten. It was music to their ears. "Is it like an alpha thing?"

"Most definitely an alpha thing," muses Makki, who also falls into step beside him. "Have you seen the way even Oikawa looks at him? Omega ass behavior."

They take their first break after three hours.

Or, maybe it was more accurate to say, Tsukishima wouldn't stop grinding everyone's ears about the asthma condition he conveniently picked up within the first thirty minutes despite Suga knowing from Kiyoko no one on the team had such an autoimmune disease, that then suddenly morphed into an apparent life-threatening mutation that was going to kill him and everyone around him if he didn't let his body pause to take a break now, right now, this instant; that had Daichi snapping at everyone to take five.

"Oh thank god," Tsukishima wheezes, falling to his knees.

"Tsukki!" came Yamaguchi's predictable cry of concern no sooner.

Most of the first years are sprawled out on the ground, chests heaving and breaths coming out in pants. The second years look as equally insufferable, but are too prideful to show any form of weakness to the third years who all but look like they just came out of a sports magazine photoshoot. There wasn’t a sliver of disorientation or a hair out of place. Iwaizumi even passed around the loot bags they had apparently so lovingly, out of the goodness of their hearts, prepared for them while they were all sleeping the night before.

Only the best for our cute kouhai! singsung Oikawa gleefully.

Be thankful we even remembered to bring snacks for you forgetful brats! scolded Daichi sternly.

Hinata gingerly brings himself back to life, dragging his aching bones and his pack to where most of the first years converged purely out of a symbiotic survival instinct to band together against exploitative seniors. They were already angrily in a discussion about something, something that sounded much like plotting for the demise of Oikawa.

Or Daichi.

Or both.

"Do you know what they're feeding Goshiki right now?" Hinata seethes in a low voice, eyes darting around in alarm. "Fresh bread and crepes. Crepes. And what has Iwaizumi-san fed us so far?" he frowns down at the loot bag. "Fish crackers. Frog legs. For nutrition. Jesus Christ."

Kunimi grimaces, rubbing at his sore neck. "Welcome to the club."

"Have they always been this insufferable?" groans Tsukishima, angrily munching on a fish cracker.

"Oikawa? Yes," Kunimi replies. "Iwaizumi? Also yes."

"Oikawa-san is usually nicer," Kindaichi offers, breaking off a piece of a protein bar he snuck into his pants that morning to split with Kageyama and Yamaguchi. "But Iwaizumi-san is a dictator, yes."

"Can confirm," Kageyama adds, after mumbling his thanks.

"Shut up!" Tsukishima hisses, yanking his share of the snack and shoving it in his mouth. "They basically pamper you!"

Kageyama points to himself incredulously. "M-me?" he stammers. "Daichi wouldn't give me another blanket because he told me children in third world countries didn't even have a roof over their heads and to not be so selfish, Kageyama. We raised you better than this, Kageyama," he mimes hotly. "And I'm the spoiled one?!"

Now it was Hinata's time to be annoyed. "Remind me again who was it that Oikawa-san made sure to get extra servings of rice last night."

Yamaguchi was only more than happy to pile on. "And who Iwaizumi-san made sure got warm water for his bath."

Kindaichi, surprisingly, also joins in. "And who warned me and Kunimi a day before the trip to be nice to Kageyama."

"Can confirm," is all Kunimi says, stealing Kindaichi’s insect repellant spray from Hinata's pack.

"A little more to the left, Kunimi."

...

"More."

...

"More."

...

"Are you an athlete or what? Tilt further and higher than that! More!"

...

"Daichi-san," Kunimi starts slowly, struggling to hold up the fishing pole that was already struggling to break with how brittle it was. Behind them he can hear Oikawa and Iwaizumi using far less harsher words to Kageyama and Hinata.

"This," he croaks out, "is my more."

They were somewhere by the open river, honest to gods fishing for their keep because someone—aka Iwaizumi—got it inside Daichi's and Suga's heads that real men should earn their keep and not wait to be fed. Nevermind all of them were literal minors and had literal permission slips signed to delegate these seniors with their lives in the event something should happen. Nevermind all of it was legally binding. Nevermind the second years didn't even bat an eye as soon as Iwaizumi got the fishing poles and worms out, apparently already expecting this method of torture from the previous year.

Tsukishima of course put up a riot.

He sputtered out and about as he rallied for the perfectly good rations they had back at the campsite and even volunteering himself for cooking duty if that was the problem. Makki and Mattsun were only too happy to tug him along to the deepest end of the waters, hunking him down and forcing him to wield the longest fishing pole they had. Might as well use that height for somethin', Makki quipped, Rather than just bitchin' and moanin'. Yamaguchi was tasked with the gruesome chore of feeding the live worms to his bait, his features squeamish and disgusted. Y-you can do it, Tsukki!

"Ease up on him a little, Daichi," Suga teases some ways near them, helping Kindaichi keep a line steady.

"I will if he would just tilt to the left," Daichi warns, arms impatiently pointing to the side. Kunimi groans again, digging up some of his reserves to wield the stubborn line that wasn't budging this way and that. "It's really not moving!"

"You're just not tilting hard enough," demands Daichi.

"I am!" cries Kunimi, a bead of sweat trailing down his jaw.

"More!" barks Daichi, insistent. "Unless you're okay with Kindaichi one-upping you?"

Kunimi's head snaps to Kindaichi, who was raising about a 15-inch slapjack hooked to his pole, along with the world's most shit-eating grin he wants to wipe off. Suga was beaming up at him proudly and yelling out his accomplishment for all of them to see and hear. Cries of congratulations and envy are volleyed throughout the stream. He sees foam rise out of Kageyama's ears as he huffed and rolled on his line even more fervently, an amused Iwaizumi telling him to go slowly and Oikawa taunting Hinata to do the same.

"Let this be a lesson to you boys," Suga jeers across the field. "If you have a good mentor, the rest will follow!"

All the third years lock eyes.

They dine on the entire sea that night.

The training camp ends with an old-fashioned bbq party.

Iwaizumi was on the grill with Daichi and Asahi, moving in a routine that’s far smoother and more amicable than the rough patch they started with. They find out Iwaizumi is particularly adept at manning the grill and flipping the meat over, all grunt work and being the only one of the two who actually followed through with his verbal warnings to any of the first years who kept trying to sneak an early bite.

I wouldn't do that if I were you, he warned to a stunned Yamaguchi. Unless you want this knife aimed somewhere lower.

Daichi, in charge of seasoning and Asahi with prepping, deft and nimble hands making quick work of both; don't even bat an eye when they see Iwaizumi set aside three plates he starts unceremoniously piling up with the leaner portions of meat.

Kunimi and Kindaichi are a given—Daichi pleasantly surprised to see him gentle somehow where they are concerned—but it's Kageyama who still comes as a surprise.

"Are they related or something?" Asahi whispers, oiling some of the grill grates. "Maybe cousins? Kageyama does look a little like him."

Daichi shakes his head, rubbing a thin layer of salt and pepper to a piece of chicken thigh. "I don't think so," he admits. "Just former teammates, I think."

Asahi nods along. "And Oikawa?"

"What about him?" pipes Iwaizumi, having overheard part of their conversation as he transfers some leftover charcoal Hinata brought to the pile. "What about Oikawa?"

Asahi flushes a little. "Oh," he says. "It's just that he's — well —"

Iwaizumi gestures for him to go on.

"He seems—" Asahi continues, unsurely. "I don't know. Like he wants to both kill Kageyama in his sleep and feed him until he fattens up like one of those kids from Hansel and Gretel."

Daichi suppresses a laugh.

Iwaizumi just looks amused. "Actually," he surmises. "I think you got everything right. Definitely the feeding part, at least. It’s why he’s threatened me to set aside all the leg parts for Kageyama since this morning,” he chuckles. “But we're working on the killing part."

Everyone is only too happy to be fed normal food for once.

The sun was just shy of setting around the campsite, hues of golden orange and pale yellow streaking the place in a healthy, lovely glow. The sounds of birds chirping and flitting about the pine trees are a welcome break from all the yelling, the wind at just the right temperature to be breezy and warm.

Hinata, especially, is overjoyed with all of it. "Waaa!" he gushes, all bright eyes looking up at Iwaizumi who handed him his plate he filled with extra enoki mushrooms. "This looks soooo good, Iwaizumi-san!"

Iwaizumi blushes, looking away. "R-right," he stammers. "Yes. Um. Eat—well, then."

At his side, he can feel Suga eyeing him knowingly. "You can say it," he says, setting up the drinks. "Hinata is very cute and will feed your senpai ego well."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” mumbles Iwaizumi, assembling the next plate.

The rest of the afternoon goes swimmingly. The sounds of easy laughter and open conversation flowing seamlessly throughout, seniors and juniors alike mingling. Asahi manages to hold a conversation with Makki and Mattsun that doesn't end with him sweating buckets at potentially overstepping anything he says, the Seijoh third years only too happy to know he was also a fan of the Sendai Frogs and was he looking to go pro after highschool, they wonder?

Tanaka and Noya were in a heated discussion with Yahaba and Kyotani, both parties having very spirited opinions on whether Kubota Sayu or Fujino Ryoko were the representatives of 2000s actresses for Nippon cinema. Daichi was giving even more pointers to Kunimi about fishing, Kindaichi not even bothering to hide he was listening in and Suga only too happy to use his distraction as a way to funnel more meat into his plate.

Oikawa was busy fussing over Kageyama in his usual roundabout way, frowning down at the lack of vegetables in his plate and blaming Iwaizumi for sabotaging the child's health intentionally. I know he's our rival and everything, Iwa-chan , Oikawa chides. But doesn't he deserve nutrition too? Iwaizumi gave him an amused look, perhaps knowingly, Oikawa not budging an inch. Iwaizumi relents and goes back to fetch an entire plate full of hijiki seaweeds and cucumbers and seasoned radishes.

Kageyama flushed at all the food and attention, but where those two were concerned, he's long since learned it was best to just let them have their way unless they argue and make it everyone's problem. Again.

Towards the end it's Daichi who approaches Oikawa first, two cups of yuzu in hand. "Think we did okay?"

Oikawa looks over at him, smiling in a skittish way, before accepting the drink. "I think," he takes a sip. "We did better than okay."

"Stellar endorsement from The Great King," Daichi teases. "Want to do it all over again next year?"

"There won't be a next year," Oikawa reminds him, an inflexion of something to his tone.

"Ah," Daichi blinks, and then: "Right."

Oikawa bumps shoulders with him. "But there's still be the next spring, and summer, and winter."

"Tsukishima might actually kill me if I even suggest we do something like this out in the cold," Daichi is quick to stop him. "Like actually kill me this time I think."

"Kageyama doesn't do well during winters either," Oikawa finds himself saying almost reflexively.

Daichi catches on, because of course he does. "Right," he says, smirking knowingly. “Of course.”

Oikawa blinks, unable to look at him. "R-right," he coughs awkwardly, before gesturing to the rest of the crowd. "Well then. Just as long as you stop threatening to make fishermen out of my players, I guess we can clear our schedule for you."

"And just as long as you stop trying to claim my first years as yours," Daichi's spread grins wider. "Then we would be more than happy to do this with you all over again, Oikawa-san."

#iwaoi #oikage #iwaoikage #karasuno #seijoh #kageyama tobio #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #fic

16 notes · View notes

daemon-in-my-head · 4 months ago

Note

1 and 7 for the new asks 😊

Thank you those are the spiciest ones lmfao. Answering my latest abomination.

1. Your hottest Durgetash take. The kinda heat Gortash had to endure in HoH. (But be respectful about it fellas, this means everyone)

I mean this in the nicest, most respectful way possible, but: the durge story line in game is absolute and utter trash I'm so sorry. The absolute lack of reactions from ur companions, the fact that there's no consequences from them except Wyll and the 2 guys you met literally 5 minutes ago, the sudden shift of tone in Act 3 when Durge remembers who they r and immediately goes 'I'm daddy's lil princess and yall can smd'. It's just infuriating atp. Like I love Durge and I do appreciate the vagueness cuz it allows for a lot of topics to be brought up but none of them r really tackled by a game thats praised for handling trauma in a tactful manner. They're made to be the laughing stock and comedic relief and honestly it's just distasteful when you recall that a lot of ppl with certain types of trauma or addiction issues can so greatly relate to them. There was a lot of dark shit they could've expressed with that origin. And they did. But it was cannibalism and necrophilia for the sake of sensationalism and slapstick comedy.

As for Gort it's the remote work I've talked about b4 lmao. They rly just banished the most powerful political leader of the Gate from the Gate and made him work remotely from a shabby fortress outside of the city he's ruling. I know why they did it, I can understand it, but it's still hilarious and probs a hot take cuz like yk that man wouldn't reside there if it wasn't for the scrapping of the upper city.

7. Would Orins premature death have impacted them and their dynamic? How? Why? Why not?

Okay, so first up, there's smth ya need to know to understand this. Elli had a sister, and even if they weren't blood related he considered his foster family to be his, well, family and loved them. And that man, at least pre tadpole, is pretty much aware of what happened when the urge awakened and how he's the very thing he couldn't protect his treasured people from, despite that being his greatest desire.

So in other words, he's 10000% projecting the sister he's killed onto Orin. He's lenient with her and protective over her. To him, she's the sister he could and will save. She's the last bit of family and treasured people he has left. So if anything were to happen to her, he'd snap. Because that man is utterly traumatised and he simply wouldn't be able to deal with another loss like that, but he's also the type to run away so he'd just become the perfect pretty puppet Bhaal would've always wanted and simply cease to exist as a person, wholly devoting himself to the plan just so he can escape this dreadful hell he's forced to live in ASAP. Which, in turn, would also destroy everything Gortash enjoyed about him. Elli would remove himself to the best of his ability and simply become someone following orders without thinking, smth Gortash enjoys in everyone but his equal, which would cause him to withdraw as well. They'd just kinda get miserable by themselves again, completely terminating whatever was before. Cuz Gort can't see Elli breaking to such a degree thx of his own issues and him being a permanent reminder that Gort himself isn't safe even after everything, and Elli simply has 0 capacity for any sort of attachments left. 'If he's gonna lose them anyway, might as well not forge them in the first place' kinda mindset.

Now, if Gortash somehow had his hands in that, and Elli would find out however... Well, Elli considers death to be a mercy, so Gort would probably live to see his age turn three digits, all while he suffers from the Bhaalspawn's wrath. Seeing all he's ever built crumble and fall for no other reason than the elfs spite and desire to destroy the one who took his sister. Like that man would grind Gort down to the point where Gort would even consider his time in HoH a walk in the park, all while Elli ruins himself as well cuz arguably the second he loses someone else he'd absolutely discard any attachments to life and staying alive too. His motivation to obey Bhaal was the promise of control and protection, and without someone left to protect, he'd have no reason left to make sure Bhaals plans don't go up in flames.

If he hadn't lost his memories Orin would still be alive nd thriving simply cuz Elli couldn't kill her and would instead either protect her or die for her sake, no doubt abt that.

#thank u for the ask #and sorry for rambling lol #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #oc: ellifain

8 notes · View notes

uptoolateart · 1 year ago

Text

Dreaming Wide Awake

It’s okay, guys - I’m fixing this mess.

Prologue:

It was perfect. Everything about this day…absolute perfection.

The sun blazed high overhead, so bright that the world seemed to glow at the edges with an almost otherworldly light. His friends swarmed the pool in the back garden, laughing and splashing each other. And after so long yearning to heal the rift that had sprung up between him and his cousin, even Felix was there, with Kagami.

It had been hard, learning the news of his father’s death – especially because they hadn’t left things on a good note. Though…it was hard to remember just what they had fought about, the last time he’d seen his father. Just…there had been something…something he’d been angry about….

But if he could no longer call it to mind, it probably didn’t matter. After all, it didn’t do to speak ill of the dead.

They said time was the great healer, and that seemed to be true. Because here they were, two months later, finally able to celebrate the life of the man who had sacrificed himself for Paris – for the world. The time for tears was over. His father would have wanted him to move on with his life. That was the kind of loving, selfless father Gabriel was.

Perhaps sensing his thoughts, his mother looked up at him, over the pool, her eyes locking onto his. She cast him a warm smile, the kind that always made him feel instantly better, no matter how hard things got. He felt a stab of guilt at the relief he felt that it had been his father and not her. One was bad enough. But if anything ever happened to his mother….

He swallowed and smiled back. Best not dwelling on ‘what ifs’. Best to focus on what was.

Marinette pressed his hand, drawing his attention back to her, at his side on the stone bench. She was the best thing about this day, surrounded by a trellis of roses, her blue eyes sparkling.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘Better than okay.’ He kissed her again, hard and hungrily, unable to help himself.

Laughing, she pushed him away just enough to look at him. ‘Slow down. Sometimes it’s like you think you’re going to get dragged away from me. You know I’m right here. No one’s taking me from you.’

He stared at her, his chest heaving.

He knew. Of course he knew. Even if some strange paranoid part of his brain told him this wasn’t true. Someone wanted to keep them apart, but…he couldn’t think who.

For some reason, his eyes were drawn down to his finger, where he now wore his father’s old wedding band. It was hard to remember just when or how this was given to him. But it was there now and….

Freedom.

The word flashed in his head.

That was the beauty of this day. The magic. He’d never felt so free.

But…did that mean he’d once been trapped? That…didn’t make sense….

Maybe he was just feeling guilty – for not being there in the end. For leaving Ladybug to find another partner, in his moment of weakness, when the most he could do was remove his miraculous and send Plagg to find a new holder. There was some irony in that holder turning out to be his own father. Or maybe some poetry.

The world worked in mysterious ways. All that mattered was that he was here, in this moment, with the girl he loved. There had been pain and sadness but…somehow things had worked out. They had all got their happy ending.

Yes, it truly was perfect.

So what was that niggling feeling at the back of his mind, as if there were something he’d once known but had now forgotten? What was this sense of dread creeping through him at the idea of turning around and staring at the stone wall behind him? That sense that he might look and see something else – something other than a plain stone slab – a carving, perhaps, of a figure that was no longer there….

Full fic at Ao3

Tags:

Follow-up to Season 5

I already had enough long fics to write

Then the season finale made me angry

And now I'm writing this to make myself feel better

The perfect resolution is not perfect after all

Adrien is troubled by flashes of an alternative reality no one is talking about

He's going to get the closure he deserves

Damn the writers for adding more to my plate when I already have enough to do

psychological confusion

#ml fic #ml fanfic #ml au #ml s5 #ml s5 spoilers #ml spoilers #ml re-creation #ml angst #ml adrien #adrien agreste #ml marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #adrienette #ml fix-it #fix-it fic

11 notes · View notes

podiumackles · 3 years ago

Text

Tough Winters | C. Leclerc

in which she caught a bad cold in the inevitable temperature of the strong winters, and he will do absolutely anything to be of service.

not my gif!! credits to the owner.

word count: 2,1k | no warnings but reader has a cold; you know the drill | prompt(s) used: f1

Winter. Though it might have been your favourite season of the year, you absolutely despised the period of time when everybody around you caught a cold. The warm weather quickly turning into the freezing temperatures rarely did any good for humankind, and neither did it turn out alright for you.

You involuntarily woke up from a cough getting caught in your throat, leaving you gasping for breath. Charles shot up immediately, abruptly being woken up by your coughing figure. Your nose was fully stuffed, the itch in your throat gradually disappearing as your coughing came to a halt.

"Hey, hey, chérie," you heard the concerned voice of your boyfriend next to you as he gently rubbed your back. "you alright?" you nodded as you sniffled, trying to find some relief in your nose.

"I'm sorry, I'm feeling rather ill." You replied, carefully laying back down on your comfortable pillow. Charles looked at you with visible concern in his eyes, laying a gentle palm on your forehead.

"You're burning," he concluded as he pressed a soft kiss on the spot his hand had just left. He felt the heat radiate through his lips. "hold on." He had turned on the nightlight before he got out of the comfortable bed, your eyes following his figure as he entered the bathroom.

You had briefly closed your eyes and tried to ignore the dreadful headache that slowly crept up on you, but tiredly opened them when you heard someone enter your shared bedroom. Your eyes fell right into Charles' gaze as he returned with a wet cloth and gently laid it on your head.

"I couldn't find anything to get your temperature with," he started as he pressed a gentle kiss on your nose and set a glass of water on the counter next to you. "though this should help. Would you need anything else?"

"Do we have any painkillers still?" you asked before he sent you a gentle nod, once more finding his way towards the bathroom. Your left hand landed on the cloth that was comfortably laying on top of your forehead, desperately trying its best to cool you down just a tiny bit. Your other hand found its way towards the empty right side of the expensive bed, which still maintained the warmth that your boyfriend's figure had left.

You were cold. You were hot. The swings in temperature had you going crazy, and if you were absolutely honest, you could cry. You absolutely despised being ill. Charles was never totally sure how to deal with it but constantly tried his absolute best to be of service in any way that you need. He clumsily found ways to comfort you, even using the internet as help every now and then.

Luckily, this seemed to be the same as a usual cold, therefore he knew how to help you, having learned from previous times. And besides, he used your own ways and noted how you had helped him whenever he felt the same as you did now.

The Monégasque returned swiftly, providing you with a painkiller that he had previously broken in two. He handed you your glass, offering his help before taking the two halves and handing those as well.

Though you were old enough to know how to swallow a painkiller, you still appreciated his small gesture and took the note not to take any of his actions for granted.

You handed him your glass that still held a tiny bit of water in it before he put it back in its place on your nightstand. Another itch found its way back to your throat, causing you to carefully let out a small cough in the pit of your elbow.

"Are you okay?" Charles asked as he returned to his side of the bed, cautiously lifting your arm which was still laying there. You co-operated with his actions, retrieving your hand to your heated figure as he laid down and allowed his eyes to roam over you.

"I think that is relatively evident," you stated, though you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. He nothing but tried to show how much he cared and was uncertain what to ask you besides that. "However, I'm truly sorry for waking you."

"That is alright, chérie," he assured you, gently pulling you in a tight embrace. He was cautious not to put too much pressure on you but still thoughtfully tried to provide with his comforting presence. "Just let me know if there is more I could do for you."

"I think I'm rather comfortable like this now," you contentedly sighed before closing your eyes, his . He didn't necessarily smell nice, the notable absence of his signature cologne definitely caused that. But he was there, and you were more than happy to just have him near you. "I'll just wait for the painkiller to kick in."

Charles let out a small hum of a cooperative agreement, his generous heart aching at hearing your words and the way you spoke. You definitely sounded ill, your stuffy nose not making that any better.

He pulled you close, the wet cloth resting between your forehead and the collar of his nightshirt. He gradually felt his chest getting damp through his shirt, but he paid it no mind as all he cared about right now was your well-being.

That night, it took you way too long to continue your slumber. Your throat ached and you could barely breathe. You had noticed your boyfriend falling asleep about thirty minutes after you woke him up, but you were more than delighted to notice him drifting off that quickly. You knew he had a busy day of training the day after so you had felt terribly guilty that he had been woken up so soon.

You stayed in his embrace, your mind screaming different things to you as you desperately tried to ignore the prominent pain in your head.

The following morning, you woke up from the deafening sound of the driver's alarm. He shot up panickily, desperately trying to switch it off before you had heard it. His heart beat in his throat, and he let out a sigh of relief once he had successfully managed to silence his phone. He flashed his eyes at your awakened figure, directing you a look of guilt when he noticed it had woken you up.

"I am so sorry, chérie," he started as he laid back down, causing a frown to appear on your face. "I forgot to turn it off last night, just go back to sleep."

He discarded the now almost dried cloth onto the polished floor and hauled you back into his arms. You failed to close your eyes, pondering on the thought of why he hadn't made a move to get out of bed.

"Charles," you instantly started, naturally causing him to pull back to properly examine your tired eyes. "Why are you not getting ready?" He always instantly left the bed after his alarm, quickly getting ready since he always woke up too late to stay under the warm sheets.

"I'm not leaving." He stated adamantly, snuggling your figure closer to him.

"Charles." you started once more, "Why are you not getting ready?" You repeated your previous question, visibly unhappy with his direct answer.

Charles sighed, slightly annoyed because he knew you wouldn't let him stay.

"You are sick, I'm not leaving you." he stated confidently, his eyes remaining closed as you watched his lashes hug the skin underneath them.

You gently pushed him away, careful not to accidentally hurt his feelings with your denial. Of course, you loved him for the fact he would be willing to drop it all if it meant being able to take care of you.

"I don't want you to stay," you said, immediately cursing and mentally slapping yourself for the way your words must have sounded. "I mean, I do, but-"

"I know," Charles cut you off before you let out an anxious breath. "But I don't want to leave you behind, knowing I could be able to help you by staying here."

"That's really sweet," you had gently smiled at him before you sat up, eyes never leaving your boyfriend. "But I'm an adult, you know? I can take care of myself for a couple of hours."

"Are you sure, chérie?" His question sounded challenging, but you knew he meant it seriously. Therefore, you nodded approvingly, kissed your hand and gently placed it on his forehead. He frowned, his chest vibrating at the chuckle he let out.

"What was that for?" He asked before you retrieved your dampened hand and clutched it around your stomach. "I don't want to make you sick by mixing my saliva with yours, you know" you chuckled, to which his frown only increased.

He sat up as well, took your soft hand and carefully pulled you in for a deep kiss. You naturally hesitated, but in the end, you could not resist this man.

"Frankly, I do not care." He stated when he let you go and offered you a sweet smile. You could see the glistering in his eyes and for a second you sincerely regretted ever telling him to go to his training session at the gym.

But then you correctly remembered they must have been waiting for him to arrive, and he was already late. So you caressed his cheek with your right hand, his larger one covering yours and rubbing the top with his thumb.

"Charles," you hesitantly started and a low hum left his lips. "Training." He groaned softly, making you chuckle. The movement made the itch in your throat return, a cough escaping your lips and Charles his concerned frown returned on his face.

You shook your head through coughs, signalling for him to get ready. Luckily, he had obliged and left the bed before you took a sip of the remains of the water that was still firmly in the glass on your nightstand.

After that morning, the day had felt long. Charles wasn't supposed to be away for all too long, three to four hours at most, but after the first hundred and twenty minutes of waiting, you grew to feel independent. You had tried everything to relieve the pressure on your head, the itch in your throat and your stuffy nose, but you failed to get comfortable on the soft sofa beneath you.

You needed the warm presence of your boyfriend, though you were hesitant on telling him that. Therefore, you instantly decided against it. You eagerly grasped your soft blanket and turned on the television, but nothing seemed to be able to provide you with proper distraction. So you closed your eyes in hopes of passing the dreadful silence with more ease.

Charles came home not too long after. Merely sixty minutes had passed, but you hadn't managed to fall asleep in the meantime. You tried opening your eyes, the light coming through the blinds hurting your overly sensitive orbs.

"Chérie, I'm back," Charles carefully called, heading for the bedroom before he stopped in his tracks when he noticed your figure on the sofa. "I brought you this." He offered you a box of tea, the one he knew you always loved whenever you felt ill. You offered him a wry smile as you reached for him, signalling you desired his presence behind you.

"I feel so sick, please give me cuddles." You stated, and he happily obliged your request. Luckily for you, he had showered at the gym. But in all honesty, you couldn't care less if he was sweaty right then.

He eagerly joined you on the sofa, settling on a comfortable spot behind you as he snuggled his arms around your waist and pulled you close. Your hand laid over his protective arms and sighed comfortably.

"You don't want your tea yet?" Charles spoke pulling you from a comfortable silence that had found its way to your mind. You shook your head, though quickly realised he wouldn't have been able to see it properly.

"I just want to sleep right now," you said quietly, closing your eyes as you once more wanted to drift into a peaceful sleep where you wouldn't have to be dealing with your symptoms. "You can make me tea later, okay?"

"Bien sûr, ma chérie." Your heart melted at his words before silence filled the room once more. This time, you were able to drift off into a sweet slumber, your boyfriend providing you with what you missed this whole morning; the warmth of his love in the cold of the tough winters.

————

taglist: @amoregia @bekyf1 @PierreFerme @blueflame2778 @formulahan @agentstarkid @ohmiamia @starxqt @urmumlovesmexoxoxo @youkantebeserious @brynniebear (if your name is crossed, it means i was unable to tag you with the username you provided.)

792 notes · View notes

ssahotstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Push by Matchbox 20 here

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Angry Hotch, some cursing, alcohol use. Not smut in this part. That comes in PART 2

Unlike the others in this series, this will have a second part published tomorrow! I’ll tag this part with it so they can be read together when they’re both completed.

“He hates me.”

You had came to the shocking realization during brunch with JJ and Emily. Your Unit Chief despised you, giving you more hell than any one person should ever have to endure. Granted, you were new, much younger, and he was intimidated by your ability to see the things he couldn't. You'd been right one too many times, and he was infuriated by it.

"He doesn't. He's just..." Emily struggled with the words to say to you, because there was no good explanation. Hotch just couldn't stand you.

"He hates me, Em. It's okay. I've come to terms with it," it was an unfortunate circumstance, because you felt the exact opposite. You wanted his attention, you were absolutely smitten with the man who despised you.

"I'm sorry. I wish we could help," JJ tried to cheer you up, because she knew how you felt about Hotch, but it was no use. You were in constant turmoil, because he'd laugh in your face if you told him how you felt.

"It's fine. I'll be okay." You weren't convinced, but you wanted to change the subject. After two years of listening to him be short, rude and disrespectful to you, it had made you debate transferring out of the BAU. He was nice, even friendly with everyone else, but he never had a kind word to say to you.

"At least we don't have to see him for a day or two," Emily said, excited to have a break from work. You dreaded the day you had to go back and hear Hotch jump on you for breathing the wrong way, or taking a little too long to answer his questions. He'd snap at any little thing you did, for no good reason other than the fact that he was in charge and there was nothing you could do about it.

JJ's phone began to ring, which made all of your moods turn sour. It was most like Hotch, calling you all back into work because there was a case.

"Looks like brunch is over, ladies."

✨✨✨

You were in the conference room in half an hour, ready to be briefed like everyone else. Hotch paid you no mind as he went over the details of the case. A local politician was missing, and you all were in charge of finding him.

"Y/n, you and Reid check out the Senator's office. See if there's anything that could give us a clue about his whereabouts and who he might be with," you were breathing a sigh of relief at being paired up with Reid instead of Hotch, because normally, he sent you with him so he could criticize you to the harshest extent about your work.

You stood up, following Reid to the car. Once you were in the drivers seat, he spoke up.

"That was the first time Hotch has sent you with someone other than him. Are you two getting along now?"

You sighed heavily, because nothing had changed.

"No. He still hates me."

Spencer nodded in understanding as you drove in the direction of downtown. The senator's office wasn't a far drive, and Spencer was good company.

"Maybe not. He was nice today."

"You're confusing acting like a human being with being nice. He wasn't being nice. He was getting me out of his way. He sent me with you so I wouldn't get on his nerves," you explained, Spencer's lips pulled in a tight line across his face. You two were the closest in age, so it made sense that you got along well. He was brilliant, always offering his help whenever you needed it.

"Have you considered asking him why he acts like that?"

You pulled into the parking lot, your hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

"And risk his wrath? Absolutely not."

By the time you were cleared to search the Senator's office, you were mentally preoccupied with trying to figure out Hotch's emotions and the reasoning as to why he treated you so badly. You searched absentmindedly as Spencer went through files, the two of you working quietly together. It was a pleasant change from Hotch breathing down your neck, barking orders and demanding your compliance.

"Woah. I've got something, Spence."

It was a box of Polaroids, all different women, in a hotel that you recognized just by the art on the wall. There were names and dates on the back, ranging from 5 years ago to as recent as a week prior.

"This is The Golden Palace, that hotel in the city." You'd been there once before, and it had been impossible to forget. It was on the fancier end of hotels, and one weekend free of the BAU, you'd taken a small vacation there to unwind.

"We should call Hotch."

"Yeah, you do that," you scoffed, because you'd rather let Spencer take credit for the discovery than talk to him on the phone.

Spencer rolled his eyes before dialing Hotch's number, explaining what the two of you had discovered about the Senator. Hotch told you to bring the photos back so they could be processed as evidence and catalogued, so you headed back towards the academy.

"Just tell Hotch you found the box. He'll just question me if he thinks I did anything worth a fuck," Spencer couldn't hide his surprise at your vulgar words as you rode back in silence. You knew even if Hotch knew that you'd figured out where and what the Senator may be doing, he'd never trust your judgement.

"He's been having an affair. There was a box filled with numerous photos of different women, all as early as last week," Spencer told the team as you poured a cup of coffee. You could feel the icy glare of your boss even with your back turned.

"Anything to contribute, Y/L/N?"

"No sir. Dr. Reid covered it all," you said into your mug as you sat down, JJ watching you cautiously. You already knew you were about to catch his fury because he thought you were incompetent.

"Nice work, Reid."

Hotch's sarcastic comment was enough to have your face burning up and your anger towards him grew by the second. You just couldn't win with him. Reid shocked you by speaking out against Hotch.

"I didn't find the box. Y/n did."

Hotch blinked at you, before directing his attention back towards Reid.

"JJ, you and Reid go back to his office and see what details Y/n may have missed. We can't be sure of anything."

Your mouth fell open, because seconds earlier, he'd been convinced Reid had solved the entire case. You looked between JJ and Reid, who could only give you a solemn look in return as they trudged out the door. Hotch pointed his finger at you, narrowing his eyes.

"You're with me. We're going to check the hotel."

You followed him, trying to steady your breathing as you climbed into the SUV. You even went as far as to shut your door as quietly as possible, so you didn't accidentally piss him off.

"For the record, I think you're missing something, but we're going anyway. If anything, it'll just prove you wrong," his eyes never left the road and you tried to disguise the hurt by staring blankly out the window until you'd made it to The Golden Palace. Hotch introduced the two of you to reception before showing them a photo of Roy Marcus, the man you'd been looking for.

"He's in room 212. Is he in trouble?" The receptionist gave you a key card, and you followed Hotch up the stairs without a word. He was angry that you'd been right, and it dripped from his side eyed glances and his body language. He knocked on the door, face to face with the Senator himself. After Hotch explained briefly that his wife was worried when he never came home, and that you'd been looking for him, you were able to call the rest of the team and tell them that he'd been located. The ride back was awkward, completely silent.

"You were right," Reid said as soon as you stepped out of the elevator, putting his hand up for you to fist bump.

"She got lucky. She found clues that a kindergartner could've spotted. That hardly warrants a celebration."

Spencer put his hand down like a scalded dog, his eyes sad as he scanned your face for his reaction.

"What's your problem?"

The words felt like venom spewing from your lips, all of the rage you'd been feeling for months bubbling up to the surface. Emily and JJ simply watched you confront him in silence, Reid backing away the first chance he got.

"Excuse me?"

"You treat me like some sort of idiot. I don't deserve this. I contribute just as much as anyone else in this room," it was more than bold, it was a bullet to your career, and you knew it. There was no way he'd let you continue to work in the BAU.

He turned to meet your face, his eyes dark and menacing. You'd never been afraid of him before, but you were now, trembling as you took a step back. You crossed your arms over your chest as a shield, waiting on the backlash.

"You are replaceable, just like every mediocre human your age who thinks they deserve special treatment."

His words cut through you, but you tried not to let it show. You didn't want special treatment, you just wanted to feel accepted, and Hotch made you feel less than that. He made you feel inferior, like every move you made was the wrong one.

"Special treatment? You don't even treat me like a human being!"

He was in your face faster than you could track his movements, your legs failing you as you tried to back away from him.

His own voice boomed over yours, terror and panic quickly replacing your anger. His finger was in your face as he told you how insignificant you were, how you'd never be a part of his team, no matter how hard you tried.

"Get out of my sight!" He raised his hand to point his finger towards the door, but by the time you realized he was pointing, you'd already misjudged his actions, stumbling backwards as you fell to the floor, your arms up to protect you from Hotch's fist. You hadn't had time to process the rapid beating in your chest, your eyes were shut tight as you prepared for the worst. Seconds later, JJ's hand was grabbing your arm to help you up out of the floor.

"You're okay. Come on, let me help you," your face was hot and wet with tears as JJ helped you to your feet, trying to help you calm down. Hotch's entire demeanor had changed; his face had softened dramatically from his earlier grimace as he watched the exchange. You refused to give him the satisfaction of looking in his eyes.

"I—I'm sorry, Y/n. I shouldn't have yelled at you," his hands reached out for you but you flinched away, putting JJ between the two of you before he had an opportunity to come towards you. Your mind was made up, however, because you were done taking his less than decent behavior.

"I quit."

You tossed your badge to the floor and made a beeline for the elevator, Spencer quick on your heels. You pushed the button frantically to separate yourself from the rest of them, wiping your face to try to restore what dignity you had left. You were in the parking garage and speeding away before anyone had a chance to follow you.

✨✨✨

"Another, please," the bartender poured you another shot as you fanned the cigarette smoke coming from all directions. Once you had your drink in tow, you made your way outside to the patio to get some fresh air. The music still played softly as you recapped the events from the day to make sure they'd actually happened. Your phone had rang so much after you left that you'd turned it off, not wanting to deal with anyone from the BAU. You had no doubts that Hotch was livid with the way you spoke to him, calling repeatedly to reprimand you for your actions. Even though you'd quit before you left, you were certain he wasn't finished with you, and the thought of having to deal with confrontation again made you drain your glass.

You were halfway drunk, crying into your hands alone at a bar because your boss's ego was too large to treat you normally. You were an outsider to him, and always would be. Everyone inside seemed to be having a blast, but you stood flat against a wall in the dark, tucked in the corner, jobless and embarrassed. Hotch had not only scared you, but his words had killed your spirit, your drive to make a difference in your field. You never wanted to look at another case file again.

You looked to the sky, as if the answers were hidden dotted amongst the stars, with no such luck. It only had partial clouds and twinkling stars, neither of which did anything for your mood. The moon was a semicircle in the sky, hidden mostly by cloud coverage. You'd been expecting rain all day, because it would pair nicely with your shitty mood. You wondered if Hotch had any sort of conscience, if he felt like he'd made all the right decisions in screaming at you. You tried not to let him ruin your night, but you were hurting.

"Y/n? The bartender told me you were out here," you would recognize JJ's voice anywhere, so you stepped out of the shadows, revealing your tear stained face as she brought you in for a hug.

"I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now," it was impossible to describe. It was like shame, only worse. He'd tried to degrade you in front of all of your friends.

"I'm so glad I don't have to come back. You know, maybe if he knew I had a crush on him, he'd be a little nicer. Now I just feel like an idiot for liking someone who had no second thoughts about embarrassing me like that," JJ had known about your feelings for a while, but it was an unspoken rule between the two of you that you'd never mention it to anyone else.

"You're really not coming back? Hotch asked me to come talk to you. He doesn't want you leaving," her voice was laced with concern as you shook your head. You'd never work for him again; you weren't sure you'd even be able to stomach being around him any longer than absolutely necessary.

"There's no way, JJ. It's time to step away from the BAU."

✨✨✨

By the time you left the bar, it was well after midnight. You had no sooner walked out the door and Hotch was stepping out of his car, making his way to where you were waiting for a cab. Your anxiety reached new heights as you braced yourself, taking a proactive step back each time he came closer.

"Can we talk?"

"No. You have no authority over me anymore, and I'm drunk, so I probably won't be very nice to you."

You were as hammered as you could get, trying to wash down thoughts of him screaming at you, with little luck.

"You have every reason not to be nice to me. I haven't been very nice to you," he shot back, watching your feet to make sure you didn't take another step backwards. You kept a couple feet of space between the two of you, just in case.

"No shit. Go home, Hotch. Leave me alone," your voice was already quivering, because on any normal occasion, you would've been happy to see him, bad mood and all. The more he rejected you, the harder you'd worked, and the more you tried to win his affection. You'd realized at the bar that you'd never get his approval, so you set your sights on hating him.

"Please, Y/n. Just let me drive you home. You'll never catch a cab this late," the streets were empty, so you weighed your options before following him to his car, keeping a safe distance between you both. He was volatile, and you never knew when he'd erupt.

Once you were in the car, the tension was heavy. His hand lingered on the keys as he took a deep breath and turned to you.

"I don't like the way I made you feel today. You were afraid of me, and despite what you may think, I don't want that."

You couldn't help but laugh at how nice he was being, his actions and words constantly contradicting one another.

"You just want me to hate you? Is that why you treat me like I'm garbage? Seriously, you don't have to explain anything to me. I really just want to go home. You ruined my day, don't ruin the rest of my night too."

You let him sit with the weight of your words as you travelled wordlessly through the city, Hotch coming to a halt in your driveway.

"Would you consider coming back?"

Your hand was already opening the door, and you stepped out without giving him the satisfaction of an answer. He was following you though, right up to your door as you struggled to unlock it.

"Please just go. You made it really clear that your team doesn't need me."

You got the key in the door, but just as quickly, Hotch was closing it, forcing you to talk to him.

"Please let me explain myself. If you don't want to come back, that's fine too, but at least let me apologize to you."

You couldn't hold it in anymore; between the alcohol and your inability to think straight, you unleashed havoc, telling him exactly how you felt.

"You know, when I started at the BAU, I actually liked you! I wanted to be just like you! I couldn't see your shitty behavior because I was too busy trying to get you to like me back. Now I realize that the only person you like is yourself. I cannot believe I wasted my time having a crush on someone like you—someone who would rather rip another person's self esteem to shreds than admit their own faults. Go home, Hotch." You were able to get inside and slam the door behind you with no protests; in fact, things outside were quieter than ever. You watched through the blinds as he went back to his car and drove away.

The next morning, you woke with a hangover like hell. You'd left your car at the bar, so the first order of business was to get a cab to retrieve it. You'd almost forgotten about the horrible events from the day before, showering and brushing your teeth like normal. It was Sunday, so you planned to take it as easy as possible and look for another job.

You turned your phone on and watched the messages flood in, mostly from Hotch. He'd even asked you to grab breakfast together so he could apologize, but you weren't done being angry with him, and you weren't sure if you ever would be.

Your phone was already ringing, buzzing nonstop as you answered it blindly.

"You answered," Hotch sounded relieved to hear your voice, although he was the last person you were expecting to talk to.

"By accident. What do you want?"

"Can we start over? I'll come get you," you were hardly able to comprehend his offer, but you agreed to talk to him over breakfast because you were starving.

"Fine. Let me get dressed."

"You're serious?"

"Unless you've already changed your mind, which wouldn't surprise me," the sarcasm dripped from your words and he chuckled under his breath at you.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

He offered no further details, so you pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and waited, rehearsing how your farewell speech to the BAU's fearless leader. You'd give him his turn to talk, but you'd never have to obey his orders again. That was the one thing you were certain of.

By the time he'd arrived, you were pacing nervously, regretting your decision to eat with him as soon as you stepped out the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his navy blue t-shirt clinging to his chest. You cursed yourself for letting yourself admire him, but you just couldn't help it. He was impossible to resist.

He offered a small wave, walking around to the passengers side of his car to open the door for you. He closed it behind you and you held your breath, anxious that he was still mad about the day before.

"Can I apologize now?" His arm rested on the console but you offered him no reply. You simply stared back at him and waited on what he had to say.

"You were really drunk last night," he began, and you rolled your eyes, because nothing that he was saying sounded like an apology.

"But you were more honest than you've ever been. I went home last night and tried to remember at least one good thing I've said to you in the last two years, and I couldn't think of anything."

He'd been too busy yelling at you, but you weren't going to interrupt him.

"My behavior has been unnecessarily difficult for you to deal with. If you still want to quit, I'd understand. But I am sorry for everything I've put you through. I know it means nothing now, but you're an exceptional member of our team, and it would be a shame to lose you."

You couldn't look at him, because if you did, you'd break down. The tears were already welling in your eyes, because you'd felt like a failure for months prior. Hotch never praised you, if anything, he went out of his way to do the opposite. It was weird hearing his guard down, hearing him be nice to you.

"I wish I could believe you. You've done nothing but belittle me since I started. You never wanted me around. You don't listen to anything I say, but when I don't have anything to say, you ostracize me for it and call me incompetent. You really hurt me. I don't think I can work for you anymore."

He was disappointed that you hadn't changed your mind, and it was evident by the way his shoulders slumped over in defeat. He started the car, but chose to stay quiet for the first half of the ride.

"What are you hungry for?"

You shrugged and told him to choose, because you were too busy trying not to cry. You'd waited months on him to be nice to you, and it had taken him scaring you for him to realize he was in the wrong. He pulled into a small diner and climbed out, coming to the passengers side to wait for you.

"I come here all the time," you told him, and he let you choose your favorite booth as he slid in opposite of you, his eyes watching you carefully as you scanned the menu.

"Hey, y/n! Good to see you again," Pat, your favorite waitress already knew your order by heart, she didn't even have to ask.

"Hi Pat. Your hair looks really good," she'd gotten a trim since the last time you'd seen her.

"You're the first person to notice. Thank you," she blushed before she went to grab coffee for the two of you, and when Hotch caught your eye, he was smiling behind his menu.

"Smiling suits you," he sat the menu down, his legs touching yours beneath the table. You pretended not to notice.

"I'll keep that in mind," if things hadn't been so tense, you almost would've enjoyed having breakfast with him. It felt strange, but it was something you could've gotten used to under different circumstances. A year ago, you would've been giddy at the thought of being alone with him. Now, you weren't sure how to feel.

"Will you do me a favor?"

He was definitely in no position to be asking you, but you nodded your head anyway, curious as to what he had to say.

"Spend the day with me, and if you still want to go at the end of the day, I'll write a letter recommending you anywhere you want to go. If you enjoy yourself, even a little bit, you'll stay."

"If I decide to stay, I need a lot more from you than one good day."

Pat was back with your coffee, taking your order before Hotch could answer you. Once she left, he was clarifying for you, so you'd know what to expect if you stayed in the BAU.

"I promise to be a changed man. You won't catch any more hell from me."

It sounded entirely too good to be true, but you took his hand and shook it anyway, because he definitely seemed serious. You were willing to give him a chance to turn things around.

"We'll see. I hope you mean that."

Things were quiet but comfortable as you ate. Occasionally he'd comment on breakfast, or say something just to fill the space, but you were starting to feel like he was really trying to make things better.

"This is nice."

You nodded in agreement, happy to finally be getting along with him. He was showing you the side of him that you'd liked all along; the gentler, more easygoing man that enjoyed simple things, like breakfast dates.

"A lot better than arguing."

✨✨✨

She was smiling.

It was brief, but it happened nonetheless. I let her control the radio as I brought her back to my home. I wanted to spend the day doing what I'd been avoiding all along: getting to know her. I'd never even given her a chance; I saw her peppy spirit and desire to excel and tried my hardest to hate her so she didn't draw me in. She'd done it anyway, and through a series of unfortunate events, it became my duty to make her happy again. I'd felt horrible after our exchange in the office, and even worse after I dropped her off the night before.

She liked me, despite the way I made her feel. I'd shut her out, shot her down and put out her spark before she even had an opportunity to shine. Things were okay now; she agreed to come spend the day with me, so it was a start. All night long I couldn't stop thinking about how she'd said she had a crush on me. I thought she might've just been drunk, until I realized she was just being completely transparent with me because she had nothing else to lose. She'd felt hopeless, and I'd planned to spend the day trying to reverse that.

"We can do whatever you want today," I told her, putting the car in park and shutting off the ignition. I stepped around to help with her door, and pretended not to see her blushing. It was cute; the root of all my shitty behavior had been her unnaturally good looks, and irresistible charm. She was the brightest person in the room, and I knew I was doomed the minute she walked in the door.

"I'm kind of hungover so maybe we could be lazy? I had a lot of tequila," she giggled, following me inside as she scanned the place over.

"Even your house is perfect," she mused, and although it took me a second to absorb what she'd said, my breath got caught in my throat, and my palms went clammy. Even now, she thought I was someone worth caring about, and even though I didn't deserve it, I desperately wanted to know more about how she felt towards me.

"I'm glad you like it. You get full control of the tv," I told her, but instead of taking her to the couch, I figured we'd hang out in my room, and she could get comfortable in my bed.

"You always watch tv in bed?"

"Only if you're here. I never let anyone come in my room, so this is me trusting you."

She made a satisfied hum before she kicked off her shoes and climbed in, leaning against the headboard as she flipped through the channels. I mimicked her actions and tried to keep a bit of space between us so she wasn't uncomfortable.

"Something tells me you don't watch a lot of tv," her eyes never left the screen, the remote still in her hand.

"It just depends. I mostly use it for background noise," I admitted, and she told me she did the same thing.

"Tell me something else," she finally turned to look at me, happily chatting away her morning with me. We talked about everything; I told her that she was the first woman to lay in my bed, and the pink rose to her cheeks, her lips curled up in a smile that was more than contagious. She was just as funny and witty as I knew she'd be if I would've given her a chance to show me.

Before I knew it, my head was propped up on my hand as I listened to her tell me about her family, and why she chose the BAU. It became an exchange of secrets that none of the team knew, just the two of us. It felt intimate and I couldn't shake the thought of having her so close out of my mind. It was all I could focus on as we talked, cozy in my bed. It had been ages since I just hung out with another person, and I'd certainly not spent any time with a woman since my marriage ended. It was an unexpected yet pleasant morning as we learned the things about each other that no one else knew.

"This has been an interesting change," even she couldn't help but have a nice time, despite the way she'd felt when the day started.

"See? I'm not so bad," she teased, and I'd known all along what a good person she'd be, I was just afraid of letting her in, so I kept her at a more than considerable distance.

"I feel the need to mention that I never thought you were bad. I was afraid of you, Y/n, afraid of the way you might make me feel something. It was never you."

She simply stared back at me, trying to wrap her head around my confession. It felt like weights being lifted from my body, not carrying around the fear of falling anymore. If it was meant to happen, I'd let it gladly. She was so much more wonderful than I'd ever given her credit for.

"What am I making you feel now?" She had always been bold, but it left me winded anyway.

"Honestly I'm not sure what I was so afraid of. You just make everything better."

"Stop, you don't mean that." She laid flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. I've had a great morning with you. I'm hoping it doesn't end for a while," she peered up at me, rolling back to her side so we could face each other.

"You know, I meant what I said last night. About having a crush on you. I was drunk, but I remember."

It was the moment of truth. My heart began to beat rapidly when I remembered I had to produce some sort of answer to her and I had no clue what to say.

"What do you think we should do about that?"

"We can start by being like this all the time. I understand you have to be strict at work, but if I come back, it would be really nice to get along with you."

I nodded, because she deserved to be able to come to work and not have to worry if I'd snap at her. It would make both of our lives easier to just admit the obvious and work things out together.

"I promise you, things will be completely different. You're a vital member of the team, and I'm sorry that I've made your life so difficult up to this point. I was serious too, about starting over."

"I'm trusting you, Hotch. Please don't let me down."

#aaron hotchner playlist collection #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner #hotch series #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

223 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

General taglist:

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng

3K notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years ago

Text

Marinette was officially done with Hawk Moth interfering in her life. She could take him interrupting school, or her time out with friends (which had become increasingly awkward as of late anyway), or even her moments of being bogged down with projects.

But interrupting her one-on-one time with Luka? First their movie date and now their moment of getting ice cream together? Absolutely not.

As far as she was concerned, this meant war. If Hawk Moth wanted to shove himself into her life like a nosy busybody who couldn’t go five seconds without trying to take away her means of happiness, then fine.

Two could play at that game, and she was feeling petty enough to make the next move. She’d had to mull over the subject for a while to figure anything out, not to stop him for good exactly, but at least put an annoying dent in his plans, much like he always did with her.

She had an idea by evening, and got to put it into action right after school. She was saying good-bye to a few of her friends, and had hopped onto the back of Luka’s bike afterwards, her hands carefully on his waist while he rode off along the sidewalk.

A flicker of black and purple caught her eye, and instead of the usual dread or panic, she grinned to herself.

“Luka! Stop!”

He stiffened, but obeyed, putting full force on the brakes and screeching the bike to a sudden halt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

Hurriedly getting off the bike, she took off her helmet and handed it to him. “I’m sorry, will you wait here for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back!”

Knowing she had to be quick, she didn’t wait for him to reply. She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to place a long, meaningful kiss on his cheek.

If he had prepared a reply, the kiss stopped it, and she ran off to the nearest hiding place while he stared blankly ahead at nothing.

After ducking into an alley and taking a quick look around to ensure it was safe, Marinette opened her purse to let out Tikki, as well with the other kwami necessary for her plans: Kaalki.

“Let’s do this!”

— — — — —

Soon after Pegabug had entered the scene, giving chase to the akuma, Chat Noir wasn’t far behind. Part of her questioned how he’d gotten there so soon, but she squashed the thought just as quickly as it’d come so as to not dwell on the potential identity questions.

“Love the new look, m’lady. What’s the occasion?” he asked in his usual flirtatious tone. “Or did you dress up just for me?”

“Not now, Chat,” she replied shortly, adjusting her sunglasses as she neared the butterfly in question. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“When I give the command, grab the akuma.”

“I—” He blanked. “Grab it?”

“I’ll explain later,” she assured. Squinting at the butterfly, which seemed to be on a straight path, she felt the moment hit like the epiphany of her Lucky Charm. “Now!”

Slightly panicked, but not asking anything more, Chat Noir sped forward. He dropped to all fours to pick up speed, then leapt for the butterfly. In a swift motion, he trapped the akuma between his hands, and Pegabug reeled her hand back as she felt the charge of her power.

“Voyage!”

The portal launched from her hands, manifesting right in front of Chat Noir. He went through and she followed behind him.

On the side of the portal, she landed politely on her feet while he crashed onto the floor, though he managed to keep the akuma contained in his hands.

A startled Wang Cheng stood up from his chair, looking between the two in surprise, but he calmed himself soon after. “It is time?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, walking over and helping Chat up due to his inability to use his hands.

He shook himself of the impact, then glanced at Wang, Pegabug, and finally the night sky out the window. “M’lady, if he means time to explain why you catapulted us to China, then I’m all ears.” His fake cat ears twitched in emphasis.

“Not exactly, but we can do that too,” she assured. Closing her eyes, she whispered a quick, “Kaalki, divide,” to allow the horse part of her transformation to drop. Pulling out her yoyo to grab a treat, she offered it to Kaalki to let her recharge before addressing the issue properly.

“Chat, you remember Wang,” she stated, walking alongside Wang as they traversed the rooms of the house. Hearing Chat’s footsteps behind her, she continued, “We saved him after he was akumatized into Kung Food.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Chat confirmed, still just as puzzled as before.

“Well, he’s the only one I know who’s out of the country.” She grinned slyly. “And out of Hawk Moth’s radius.”

Chat tilted his head. “Radius?”

Ladybug waited to answer until she saw the little habitat that had been set up, exactly as she’d asked for. Wang opened it for her and stepped aside, then gestured to it, which gave Chat enough of a hint to approach and outstretch his arms so they were inside the mini enclosure.

He hesitated, but released the akuma and recoiled quick enough for Ladybug to snap the habitat shut, thus sealing the butterfly inside.

“The butterfly miraculous has limits,” she explained, pointing to the trapped akuma, “and this is one of them. Hawk Moth can’t sense or do anything with this akuma from this distance, and he’s only allowed one at a time.”

“Meaning...?”

“Meaning that he can’t make another until this one breathes its last breath.” She tossed a grateful smile Wang’s way. “So please take good care of it, sir.”

Wang bowed his head in respect. Chat, meanwhile, was gaping.

“Wait, so that means—?”

“It might not be long,” she admitted, “because we don’t know how old this butterfly is, but—” She raised a finger as she made her point. “—as long as it lives and kept in that habitat, he can’t akumatize anyone.”

With a confident walk, she made her way back to the room they’d originally come from.

Chat, still in a state of shock, followed after and kept pace with her. “What about sentimonsters?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Mayura can still send them if she wants, but it’ll go just as badly.”

“Why?”

“For one, sentimonsters follow the orders of the one with the object, and no akuma means that Hawk Moth doesn’t have any control. For two, if I can teleport the feather away before Mayura can de-power it herself, then she’s stuck with no sentimonster for even longer than the akuma. Feathers take a few months to wear out, and I think they know that. Once they realize the risks, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any sentimonsters all by themselves.”

Stopping at the spot where she’d made the portal originally, she tossed a smile Kaalki’s way and outstretched her hands accordingly, calling upon her transformation once again with, “Tikki, Kaalki, unify!”

Chat didn’t even flinch at the flash of light, staring at the floor instead as he scratched his head. “But—uh—” He paused, needing a moment to come up with more questions. “what if Mayura makes her own sentimonster again?”

“Then I’m sending it to the moon,” she answered nonchalantly. “If they want to waste my time like this, then I’m not messing around anymore. Either they come fight me themselves or I’m keeping every akuma and feather I can here, where they can’t do anything with them.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to throw out another argument, but she’s stumped him. His lips pursed as he seemed deep in thought, which evolved into a pout as he asked, “So, I guess we won’t be spending as much time together?”

“What?” Pegabug raised a brow, thrown off by that being his concern.

“A-ah—” He seemed to catch himself, waving his hands in defense. “Nothing, m’lady! You’re a genius, as always, and we still have patrols!”

“...Thanks,” she said neutrally, her mind on anything but him even as he tried to flirt.

After all, there was someone waiting for her back in Paris.

— — — — —

“Luka!”

Marinette beamed in both gratefulness and relief as she saw Luka still in the same spot as before, and even in the same position as well. She ran up to him, grabbing his shoulder again with one hand while she took her helmet back with the other.

She kissed his cheek again, a little more lightly than before but with just as much affection. The contact seemed to bring him back to life, his smile returning to his face as he settled his hands back on the bike’s handles.

“Did everything work out alright?” he asked.

“Mhm. I was just—” She paused, a lie almost reflexively coming out of her mouth before she settled on the closest thing to the truth she could, deciding that he deserved as much. “—taking care of something. Hopefully it works out.”

“Knowing you, I bet it will,” he assured with a fond look.

She beamed at him and put her helmet back on, settling herself behind him on his bike so her hands could rest on his waist again. She heard the ‘clink’ of the kickstand as Luka nudged it up with his heel, and then they were off again.

Happy thoughts of Hawk Moth screaming in his lair as he discovered her plan slowly transitioned into blissful imaginings of all the uninterrupted dates she could go on now. Out of sight, out of mind, just as Hawk Moth deserved to be.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #category: trash #episode: Truth #((A theory I've had on akuma following the trend of ''Startrain''))#((Pettinette still lives on.))#((And in other news Shadow Moth can go shove it.))#Lukanette #Pro LukaMari #((by the way))#((I know he's Shadow Moth now but that doesn't get revealed to them until Truth (the akuma; not the episode) happens.))#((So he's referred to as ''Hawk Moth.''))#((and Ladybug and Chat think that Mayura is still a thing.))#((I had a few alternate paths for this but this seemed like the most fun.))#((AND I got to give Marinette's great-uncle an actual ROLE!))

532 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

* * *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

* * *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor. And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

#ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #ranboo x you #ranboo fanfic #ranboo fluff #dream smp #ranboo imagine #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x reader #fic #fanfic #fanficiton #fandom #fluff #friends to lovers #x reader #request #requests open #reader

441 notes · View notes

ilikekidsshows · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I loved the Adrinette analysis you made...do you think you could make a similar one for Ladybug and Chat Noir over seasons 1 to 3?

I knew I was leaving myself open for this ask, and I kinda dreaded it, because 80% of Ladynoir screen time is dedicated to defeating an Akuma, meaning the characters have something else to focus on rather than progressing their relationship, and most the relationship stuff is just Marinette being really stubborn and refusing to properly look at her partner. In other words, there's significantly more screen time, but also proportionally less stuff going on in Ladynoir than in Adrinette because the characters are superheroes on the job and one party is actively resisting any development happening. It's also a very different kind of arc and relationship to Adrinette where the goal is just the two of them getting closer and more comfortable with each other. Ladynoir has that as well as all the trust issues and superhero team dynamics. Basically, this post is definitive proof that Miraculous has had plot development before season four, and it has had a lot of it. I got almost dizzy with it while compiling this.

Once again, I’m trying to go in a somewhat chronological order to properly track the relationship.

In 'Origins', we only get one-sided Ladynoir stuff. Marinette is new on the job and completely focused on solving the Akuma problem and nothing else. Meanwhile, Adrien actually takes note of his partner. He sees her flounder but ultimately put together a clever plan. He sees her lose faith but ultimately pick herself up and deliver a really badass speech at Hawk Moth. It's really no wonder he fell in love. The number one thing he learned about Ladybug is that she can fail and the second thing was that she could pick herself up again and grab the win anyway. I've brought up earlier in the Top Adrinette Scene discussion that Adrien is very scared of failing, because his father does not forgive failure, so Ladybug being someone who can turn a failure into a win understandably makes his heart go pitter-patter.

Meanwhile, Marinette barely noticed her partner. As I said, she was fully focused on solving the problem, but she was also getting distracted by her own insecurities. Marinette's first experience with Cat Noir was that he was kinda smooth and seemed to be much more confident than Marinette. Her second experience was that he tended to leap before he looked, but was perfectly willing to listen to her say-so. We have a very brief attempt at flirtation from Cat Noir, that Ladybug barely seems to even notice.

In 'Bubbler', Cat Noir actually gets to flirt with his Lady. He's clearly intent on getting her to notice what he's getting at, but Ladybug seems mostly exasperated with him. At this point their partnership is new and Marinette is most likely thinking back to their first case, when Cat Noir was so patient and supportive and not this...much. She still doesn't tell him to quit it, though, meaning she’s trying to accept him being a lot.

'Stormy Weather' has Cat Noir continuing in his attempts to get Ladybug to notice him and this time she responds playfully when they're not right in the middle of a tense situation. She's getting used to this being Cat's way of interacting with her and keeping the mood light.

'Lady Wifi' has the pair discussing the secrecy between them, with Adrien actively making the decision that honoring Ladybug's wishes concerning keeping their secret identities is more important than knowing the identity of the girl he's in love with, that doing so is the proper way to love her. 'Lady Wifi' is also the first time Marinette panics at the idea of something romantic being suggested about her and Cat Noir, when Alya says Adrien might be Cat Noir, that Cat Noir might be the boy she's repeatedly told Alya she's in love with.

'Copycat' shows us for a fact that Ladybug has no idea that Cat Noir's flirtations with her are genuine, and Cat Noir is growing tired of his feelings going entirely unnoticed.

Because of his growing frustration over not being able to communicate his feelings to Ladybug in a manner that she'd take seriously, Adrien goes the extra mile to write her a love poem in 'Dark Cupid'. When he receives a response that appeared with no sender, just a ladybug, he entertains the thought that Ladybug answered his poem and does in fact return his feelings (not realizing that Ladybug would need to know his identity to deliver such a note to him specifically, but Adrien does generally worry less about secret identities than Marinette). 'Dark Cupid' is also the first occasion of Marinette's by-now patented plan "Pretend to be in Love with Cat Noir" to solve problems, except that she was absolutely certain that a True Love's Kiss could occur between them, so there isn't even much room for pretending, but Marinette's denial is so powerful, she'll try.

In 'The Mime' we see Cat Noir actually testing Ladybug's receptiveness to a date, by suggesting that they could have gone to the play together if they didn't have to detransform. Ladybug replies that she has other plans before zipping away, and Cat Noir merely smiles after her. His feelings are growing, and he might still be remembering the love note he got. In fact, this is probably why he says "We are meant to be," in 'Gamer'.

In 'Animan' Ladybug actually does some of her own flirting with Cat Noir by giving him chin scritches. We also see a very straightforward gesture of affection from Cat Noir to Ladybug, when he hugs her in relief after the battle. Ladybug smiles softly at him, seeing that her partner cares about her well-being, while Cat Noir jumps back, embarrassed over his own reaction, or perhaps even afraid of censure. Adrien isn't the type of person to suddenly grab people in a hug, most likely because such "overly emotional" displays are discouraged in the Agreste household. This is the first occasion of Adrien projecting his father's supposed reaction to a thing he does on Ladybug, so he runs away from her.

In 'Simon Says', Cat Noir clings to Ladybug when faced with Gabriel looking at him weirdly (he's trying to figure out if he's Adrien, but Adrien himself never realizes his father was suspicious of his identity). At this point, Ladybug has started to become something of a security symbol to Adrien specifically against his father.

'Reflekta' is the episode where Cat Noir reminds Ladybug that he doesn't just deliver quips and he is actually a hero in his own right, even with diminished capabilities, in response to Marinette almost leaving him behind because he couldn't use his Cat Noir powers, because he'd "just slow (her) down", and then it turns out she couldn't have won without him. However, with the scene of Cat Noir taking the hit, Ladybug also starts on the process of realizing exactly how important her partner is to her success. Noticeably, it's while they're plotting together that Ladybug responds to his flirtation by flirting back, even if not very well (protip, Marinette, demeaning someone isn't funny to anyone but the person doing the demeaning, the other person is not suddenly lacking a sense of humor). Cat Noir is also a bit softer with his overtures in this episode, his cheeky flirtation gaining a bit more intimacy.

In 'Antibug', we can see the lessons Ladybug learned in 'Reflekta' sticking, with Ladybug listening to and valuing Cat Noir's input, unlike how the last time he tried to give her advice in a Chloé situation in 'Evillustrator', when she acknowledged he was right but couldn't bring herself to follow his advice. She also flirts with Cat Noir of her own volition, when she rings his bell. Cat Noir also keeps showing genuine warmth towards Ladybug instead of being just cheeky, when Ladybug compliments him. They affirm their bond after taking down Antibug.

The events of 'Reflekta' and 'Antibug' together influence what happens in 'Volpina', where Marinette is very suspicious of a new superhero showing up, without ever suspecting she could have been an Akuma in disguise. Cat Noir is her partner, and Cat Noir is her only partner. She’s not only learned his value, but has grown possessive over him. There's no need for any outsider. This jealousy over Cat Noir is actually something Marinette doesn't get over during the first three seasons the way she learns to deal with her jealousy over Adrien.

By the time 'The Collector' happens, Adrien has developed enough trust in his partner to ultimately believe her over her suspicions about Gabriel being Hawk Moth. This episode also has the first time Marinette voices concern over Cat Noir's emotional well-being instead of merely physical, who, of course, can't tell her what's wrong because it would break the secret identity clause.

'Prime Queen' has some very nice mutual Ladynoir flirting at the start of the interview. However, they're both mortified when Nadja comes out with the pictures. Cat Noir is confused, because he had no idea that their relationship could even give that impression, he must have been feeling like he hasn't been making much progress in getting closer to Ladybug. Meanwhile, Marinette goes defensive for the first time since 'Lady Wifi' only, this time, even more so. She even runs out on Cat Noir when he, very understandably, wants an explanation why he head to learn from a reporter that she'd planted one on him instead of from her. The episode confirms that Marinette will refuse to, in any way, discuss anything romance-related in relation to Cat Noir, even when there's an innocent explanation, like breaking an Akuma's spell. She's so defensive it's suspicious.

We also have another occasion of Marinette "pretending" to be in love with Cat Noir to solve a problem. While Cat Noir purrs either over the confession, having her close, or both. Marinette also jumped at the chance to "pretend" to confess her love so eagerly, that it left Prime Queen unimpressed. Still, Marinette refused to commit to the "ruse" enough to kiss Cat Noir while he's actually conscious and aware of it, because then she'd have to deal with the aftermath of kissing him.

'Dark Owl' has the first true test of faith between Ladybug and Cat Noir, when both of them have to trust the other not to look while they have to recharge. Although, considering 'The Collector', this is actually the first test only for Ladybug. At the end of the episode, Adrien also genuinely asks Ladybug out on a date for the very first time when they unexpectedly have free time from Owl-sitting, but Marinette preferred to skip off to spend time with Alya since she hadn’t gotten to see her while being so busy with The Owl's antics for so long.

'Glaciator' has Cat Noir planning an actual outing for Ladybug. The thing is, before 'Glaciator', Marinette's response to Cat Noir asking her out has always been that she has other plans, no can do. However, in 'Glaciator', she specifically says: "We'll see," and then she ends up ghosting him because she forgot to even send him a message that she didn't feel like going anywhere. At the same time, Gabriel purposefully stands him up for dinner, causing Adrien to project onto the Ladybug situation so hard that he doesn't think Ladybug even sees him as a real friend. Considering Adrien was under the same impression about Marinette in 'Puppeteer 2', it is typical for Marinette to send these kinds of mixed signals (which is fitting, considering how clear communication seems to be the biggest bullet point in her character development agenda).

On the upside, Cat Noir's compromised emotional state led to him being more frank about his feelings to first Marinette and later to Ladybug, finally making Marinette understand that Cat Noir is actually in love with her and how sensitive her partner can really be and that she can hurt his feelings. Notably, in this episode, Marinette particularly enjoys employing her "Pretend to be in love with Cat Noir" gambit, this time even going as far as kissing him, after finding out he's actually in love with her. Indeed, at the end of the episode, her rejection to Cat Noir is entirely focused on her having feelings for someone else (as well). She never once said she doesn't love him, and, in fact, never claims so in the English dub.

In 'Sapotis' we also see a brief glimpse of Marinette's jealousy over Cat Noir when he welcomes Alya onto the team so warmly but, because Rena Rouge was a teammate Marinette herself chose and trusts, she doesn't feel threatened enough to express it more than by merely keeping an eye on their interaction. 'Sapotis' also starts the arc of Cat Noir starting to lose faith in Ladybug having his best interest in mind when Rena Rouge appears out of nowhere and he's expected to just accept that no-questions-asked.

'Gorizilla' notably has Marinette repeatedly voicing her belief that Cat Noir will show up, something Adrien appreciates a great deal, going as far as blushing over something so simple. He's astounded by the fact that his Lady has faith in him, but it seems he still believes it despite the notion being strange to him.

'Frightningale' really drives home the arc going on in this season. 'Riposte' was the first time we saw Ladybug and Cat Noir seamlessly working together to neutralize an Akuma, but in this episode, they move in perfect synch while fighting Frightningale while handcuffed together. Cat Noir and Ladybug's teamwork has reached phenomenal levels.

I've repeatedly said that 'Syren' is less about Cat Noir and Ladybug's relationship and more about Fu's relationships with his two chosen. Still, this is the episode where Marinette gets put on the spot and comes through for her partner and Cat Noir learns that Ladybug keeping secrets from him wasn't of her own volition, but because of Fu, restoring his faith in her completely.

It's most likely because of the trust Ladybug showed towards him in 'Gorizilla' and their perfectly synchronized teamwork in 'Frightningale' that Cat Noir tries to confess to Ladybug again in 'Frozer'. These two episodes could give Cat Noir hope that he might be winning Ladybug over, especially since, as I said before, Ladybug has not said she doesn't have feelings for him. But she, of course, rejects him, although it's notably with more wistfulness than the last time, especially when she comments how she doesn't think it's possible for the "other boy" to not be a concern. 'Frozer' takes place during the arc in season two that covers Marinette's growing frustration at her inability to progress with Adrien the way she wants to and the discontent shows in her interaction with Cat Noir as well.

The change in how Marinette regards Cat Noir's input in fights between season one and two is especially noticeable in 'Style Queen' and 'Maledictator'. Both times Cat Noir is absent in a fight and this influences how Marinette approaches fighting the Akumas. In 'Style Queen' Marinette tries to play it sneaky but also needs to be saved by Plagg's intervention in his holder's absence. In 'Maledictator', Marinette's plan involved siccing the brainwashed Cat Noir on the Akuma's goons. Cat Noir has become necessary to Marinette, which is why he's able to galvanize her during 'Heroes' Day' by reminding her that the two of them against the world is what's always worked.

Season three as a whole revolves around Adrien losing faith that Ladybug could ever return his feelings the way he wishes and Marinette getting several warning signs about how she could lose Cat Noir. I might even go as far as saying that this season has negative Ladynoir development (in that their relationship grows more frayed and brittle instead of stronger).

A big reason for this new development direction is 'Reflekdoll', which, according to the production codes, happens early in the season. In this episode, Ladybug and Cat Noir learn the worst possible (false) lessons about themselves and each other and they carry those lessons for the rest of the season. In my 'Reflekdoll' conflict analysis, I wrote that Ladybug basically "learns" that Cat Noir is fae-like in that he isn't bothered by mortal things like stress or heartbreak. Cat Noir, meanwhile, "learns" that, while it doesn't matter if Ladybug makes a mistake because she can always fix it, him making a mistake makes him fundamentally less worthy as a hero and a person, so he could never be as valuable as Ladybug even as a person and not only strategically.

'Weredad', meanwhile, is the quintessential evidence episode for Marinette being both possessive and in denial about Cat Noir. She's literally pretending to be in love with him to him, while totally denying to herself that she feels anything for him, all the while she's feeling jealous over him seemingly moving on from her to be in love with her. The reason it's so important that no one but Marinette herself and Tikki know what went down in this episode is that Marinette's denial would never last if someone actually questioned this whole mess.

This is also an episode where we can clearly see the aftermath of what 'Reflekdoll' did to Cat Noir. He's once again projecting his situation with his father onto someone else (this time Tom), but he's also blatantly refusing to fight Tom at full strength, because he feels that it's his fault he got Akumatized, allowing himself to get hurt severely because he feels he's not that important, that he might even deserve it.

'Oblivio' has Ladybug once again do the whole: "How dare you say I'm in love with Cat Noir I am quitting this conversation right now!" routine. Cat Noir also got actual confirmation that something about him made his Lady want to kiss him when their memories had been wiped.

'Desperada' has the semi-infamous scene of Ladybug saying she doesn't need Cat Noir and, while she learns the valuable lesson that yes she flipping does, this is also the episode where Adrien repeatedly fails to use the Snake Miraculous correctly, having to give it up to someone else, feeling like an undeserving failure *turns to look at 'Weredad' and then at ‘Reflekdoll*.

'Kwamibuster' is an episode where everyone keeps telling Ladybug not to trust Cat Noir and she believes it to the degree that she sees him as a bigger threat than a Kwami-targeting Akuma. In other words, Cat Noir being treated like a part-time hero again in season four is because of 'Kwamibuster'.

'Gamer 2.0' is actually an important episode for the Ladynoir dynamic. This is the episode where Marinette takes on way too much responsibility (voluntarily) and is really stressed about it, while Cat Noir dismantles that stress with his good humor and positive outlook. This episode enforces the lesson that was stated outright in 'Reflekdoll': "Everyone has their role", and Cat Noir's role is to be the jokester who makes Ladybug feel better. Also, Cat Noir doesn’t even hesitate to make a sacrifice play for his Lady, because he’s less important.

'Timetagger' foreshadows that Marinette's words of affirmation are losing their effect. She repeatedly says things like "I trust Cat Noir", "You're irreplaceable", "You know you're the best", but she doesn't know how to express her regard to Cat Noir in actions. And it's important to note that Adrien was raised among liars and manipulators. Even if he doesn't doubt Ladybug's intentions, he might doubt the depth and truth of her feelings for him. Because Ladybug is so nice, she might lie about valuing him to make him feel better. Words aren't enough when words are the only thing between you and your insecurities. This is also an episode that feeds into Cat Noir's worthlessness arc, with Bunnyx repeatedly insisting that Ladybug in the future is just awesome, while Cat Noir broke her Miraculous. Even Ladybug shoots him down at the end of the episode when he tries to ask for extra affirmation, claiming he "already knows he's great".

In 'Puppeteer 2', Cat Noir's hope from 'Oblivio' that Ladybug might be starting to be won over by him comes back to bite him when the wax Ladybug gets close to him by pretending to be coming onto him. He only realized she was a fake because she smelled wrong, something that comes back to haunt him in 'Ladybug', when he's faced with a perfect copy, whose only difference to the original is that she's apparently in love with him. The villains clearly know he’s so in love with Ladybug it sometimes blinds him.

With the villains using this clear weakness as an in, it's no wonder that Cat Noir finally makes the decision to move on from Ladybug in 'Heart Hunter'. He tries one more time to test her interest to see if she'd be jealous of him dating and, when she's merely overjoyed, he decides to finally move on to Kagami. However, when faced with the actual reality of Cat Noir giving his attention to someone else instead of her (instead of in addition to her), Ladybug actually finds herself hurt and questions the lack of "My Lady" in Cat Noir addressing her, but she instantly denies it when Cat Noir notices. Denial denial denial...

Aaaaaand that's a wrap! Putting this together made me realize just how interconnected the show really is but no one notices because there aren’t any secret identities being revealed, people getting together or lore being revealed. Even something that seems like a breather episode like 'Gamer 2.0' has a larger role in the arc of developing the relationship between our main heroes.

#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #lovesquare #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml meta #long post #REALLY long

408 notes · View notes

loveislattes · 3 years ago

Text

1 + 10 = Dark and Primal (Predator/Prey) Kink

Summary: Exactly what the title says!

Warnings: Reader is gender-neutral but does own a vagina, primal kink roleplay, semi-public sex, dom/sub, squirting, multiple orgasms, and dirty talk. Ye have been warned!

A/N: This is the first fic drabble to come from the number prompt game!

Tag List:

@when-the-sun-goes-dark

@underthedark13

@fruitypieq

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations/tips and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

“Tell me something,” A deep, rich voice spoke suddenly, “What’s a darling thing like you doing out here, all alone, so late at night?”

Instantly your head whipped to the side, eyes narrowing to scrutinize the tree line for any sign of the stranger, but found nothing other than darkness in return. You were about ready to continue on your trek and blame it on the sleepless night when the intruder let out a rumbling chuckle, the noise echoing around you in every direction.

Hairs now standing on end, you clutched your bag tighter to your body and asked nervously, “Who-Who’s there?”

“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

Your lips suddenly felt too dry, the night too cold, the lamp posts too dim, as you belatedly realized that you’d not seen another person on this sidewalk for way too long. It was just you and this stranger.

“I-I’m just walk-walking,” you stammered pitifully.

Dread pooled in your gut and the sense of being utterly alone and helpless intensified egregiously as one by one all the lamp posts in your line of sight flickered out.

“Ooh fuck,” you whispered.

Finally, your self-preservation instinct kicked in and you took off running. It was a dark night, the moon a sliver in waning crescent and providing almost no light. Every slap of your shoes on the ground felt like a league farther from the man. Even as your heart pounded in your ears and your lungs burned with the taste of blood, you didn’t dare slow down. How far would you have to run? Did you dare take your chances hiding out in the woods?

As soon as hope started to rise, it was quickly dashed back down.

“You humans, so fragile.”

The whispered voice in your ear tore a frantic scream from your throat, fear locking up your legs, sending you tumbling forward. Of course you would fall! It wasn’t until he laughed, a smooth luscious sound, that you realized you were braced tight for an impact that hadn’t come.

“What the…”

When your eyes finally opened, you saw the concrete of the sidewalk uncomfortably close to your face but not touching. And then you were lifted. Darkness shrouded your view as arms tightened around your torso and brought you back to your own two feet. A cool gentle breath caressed the shell of your ear seconds before you felt the familiar shape of a nose against your neck.

“I’m giving you one last chance,” he huffed bemusedly, “Think fast but run faster, little fawn, for it will take all of your abilities to escape me.”

“W-Who are you?!” you gasped out.

As the darkness left your vision and the hands retracted from your sides, he purred almost imperceptibly, “I go by Dark, but you may call me sir.”

Then all at once, you were alone. You hesitantly looked around, eyes wide with fear.

“RUN!”

A fearsome screech of terror scratched your throat raw as you stumbled and took off as quickly as possible. You knew if you stayed on the paved path he’d only catch you just as easily as before. You had to chance the forest.

No matter how quiet you tried to be, it felt like every noise you made called out to him thricefold. Your breaths sounded like alarms in your ears and the forest floor cried out like little spies with every timid step you made.

“Oh little fawn, where might you be?”

“Shit,” you whispered in shock.

How were you ever to evade him? It was obvious he wasn’t human. There was no possible way a human could catch up to you without making noise, could track you so perfectly in a nearly pitch black forest. Of course there were also the insane reflexes, catching you so close to the ground, and his ability to speak clearly to you while being nowhere in sight.

Oh so slowly, you let your guard down as you shuffled carefully through the heavily wooded area and got lost in your thoughts; finding out what he was, felt as important as hiding from him. A soft noise of triumph escaped your lips as you spotted a rather large hollow in the base of a giant tree. Your eyes darted around one last time to make sure you didn’t see anyone before you ducked into the wood shelter.

Just as your back pressed up against the trunk, you heard a twig snap outside. The forest was uncannily quiet, no sound of animals nor wind to impede noises made by either you or him.

“A smart little thing you are, aren’t you?”

Your breath caught as fear slammed your heart into your ribcage like a drum. His voice was close, too close. Another crunch of branches and leaves drew your eyes to the right of your hollow. Even in the darkness of the woods, his black pants stood out against the greens and browns. Your assailant was wearing… suit pants? Despite the silliness of the situation, your nerves only increased as he crept closer and closer to you.

“Where are you?” he sang out lowly.

Hushed humming graced your ears delightfully as he passed you, hands clasped behind his back as if simply taking a nice stroll. You couldn’t control the way your stomach fluttered as the beautiful cadence of his voice filled the hollow. Someone so dangerous shouldn’t sound so inviting.

A quick rush of air released from your lungs as he continued on without incident and relief filled your veins. Head falling back, you let your eyes close and took deep slow breaths.

“It’s adorable that you think you’ve won, my little fawn.”

There wasn’t a word deep enough to describe the bone-chilling terror that flooded your body at the sound of his voice so close. Slowly your eyes fluttered open, only to discover a pair of legs standing in front of your only exit.

“Come out now, admit defeat, and I might even be gentle with you, darling,” he offered slyly.

“Fuck you,” you grit out.

Before you could second guess your actions, you bolted forward, right into his legs. While you were sure you didn't harm him, your actions surprised him enough to allow you the room to shove by. You had made it only a couple feet when hands were on you, one gripping your shoulder while the other pinched around the nape of your neck. A cry of shock and pain fled your lips as he shoved you face-first up against the nearest tree and pinned you with his body. Escape was looking more and more like a fool’s dream and yet you didn’t stop wiggling, trying your hardest to break free to no avail.

“Mmm, I do love it when my dinner puts up a fight, makes you smell all that more delectable,” he purred as his thigh slipped between yours, “And don’t fool yourself into believing I can’t smell just how aroused you are.”

Mortification burned up your face and you bit your lower lip hard to contain the distraught noise that threatened to break forth as he leaned into you. The pressure of his thigh served to further argue his point, your panties soaking up the slick between your thighs.

“P-Please,” you whispered shakily.

“Please what?” he mocked, “Please let you go? Now, you know I can’t do that, darling. I’m absolutely ravenous and you’re ripe for the taking.”

Teeth gently grazed the tender flesh of your throat and sent goosebumps across your flesh.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had such a sweet little human to play with,” he groaned quietly.

Fingers teased the sliver of skin poking from beneath your top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with languid little strokes; teeth mimicking the action against your neck.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this, darling. I’ve smelled your interest since the instant you started to run,” he whispered, giving another gentle roll of his hips.

Before you could contain it, an excited little squeak escaped as you felt the hardening bulge grind against your ass.

“There it is. Give in to me,” Dark murmured, “I promise this will be an experience unlike any other.”

You didn’t dare give an answer. The words felt too wrong on your tongue despite the sudden urge in your body demanding an agreement. As terrifying as he was, there was something about his presence that intrigued you. It felt like there was a war going on in your head as you gingerly wiggled your hips back against him and tilted your head to the side, allowing him full access to your neck.

The moan he gave in return made your knees weak.

In one rough movement, you heard the tell-tale rip of your shorts being ruined and then your hips were lifted in the next.

“Ooh, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, little fawn,” he cooed mockingly as a finger danced across your lips, “It will be all the easier to make you mine.”

That was your only warning before his cock was lined up against your cunt, thick head breeching every so slightly before he slammed in. Tears sprung up into your eyes and you buried your face harder against the bark as a pathetic cry warbled out. It was devastating and heavenly all at once. When he didn’t follow up immediately, you couldn't help but arch back into him.

“What a needy little thing you are,” he chuckled, “I’m going to have so much fun with you before I destroy you.”

Never in a thousand years did you think you’d find yourself in this position, being hunted down and fucked in the middle of the forest, and yet there wasn’t a place you’d rather be in that moment.

Dark’s pace was brutal, the position even more so. Every thrust of his cock rocked you up against the tree, bark scraping and digging at your skin. Every attempt to move back sunk him deeper inside you. It felt like a never ending sea of desire. It wasn’t long until you were begging for more, until the sting of the micro cuts on your skin was just another layer to the destructive pleasure coiling in your core.

“You want more? You want to come? Then touch yourself,” he ordered huskily, “Rub your clit and make yourself come on my cock while I claim you as mine.”

His meaning came through loud and clear. He intended to mark you in the most primitive of ways, in ways no one had before. You’d never let any other come inside you, too afraid of the risks.

“N-No, don’t-”

Fingers dug into your wrist and jerked your hand down between your cunt and the tree, forcing you where you wanted it most.

“It’s no use, darling, it’s too late,” he snickered, “You’re already in the lion’s den and there’s no escape. Not anymore. You belong to me now.”

You could feel his teeth bared a wicked smile against your skin before they clamped down around your throat. Pain exploded and pulsed through your veins with every beat of your racing heart, and yet it pervertedly only urged you faster. Your fingers shook under the duress of all the sensations assaulting your nerves but you worked them nonetheless, too lost to the desire.

His moan rumbled through your very being as you tightened uncontrollably around him, teetering just on the edge of bliss.

“Mine.”

That one word was spoken with such conviction and punctuated with absolute abandon, all sanity lost as you seemingly became a means to an end; a prey to claim and fill.

“Mine! All mine,” he snarled against your shoulder, “Give yourself to me, now!”

His hand came to cover yours and joined in the efforts, frantically abusing your sensitive nub until finally it all snapped.

“Ah f-fuck, D-Dark, oh my god!”

Your ruse slipped as his name spilled from your lips, but you couldn’t care less as everything coalesced with a vengeance. The pain, the pleasure, the emotions. It was all worth it as your pleasure drenched your thighs, a sob falling from your lips in debauched relief. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy rocked through your core as he fucked you through your first climax into another, and then another.

Stifled grunt and moans shifted gradually into full blown snarls of bliss as he threw your hands up against the tree, pinning both with one while his other arm wrapped around your waist and held you in place.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Shot after shot of hot cum filled your core, palpable with every throb of his cock, and you couldn’t resist melting back into him. With a final few thrusts, he released your hands only to pull you in close and hold you upright as he turned, putting himself between you and the tree as you both came down from the high.

“Holy hell,” you giggled, head tilting back to look up at him.

Dark gave a little chuckle and cupped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and directing you up into a gentle kiss.

“I promised the full experience. Was anything too much?” he asked.

“Mm-mm. It was perfect,” you whispered.

As best as you could in the awkward position, you snuggled back into him and pulled his arms around you.

“You can hunt me any time you want,” you admitted cheekily.

#dark/reader #primal kink #predator/prey #kink prompt #smut #fanfic

320 notes · View notes

absolutelyfizzing · 3 years ago

Text

hole-y

George x reader angst/fluff

description - Y/N and the Order head out to deliver Harry to the burrow on the night of his seventeenth birthday. Chaos ensues and when you reach the burrow, you couldn't be more thankful for your friends and family being safe.

warnings - minor talk of gore and injuries, death, general warning for george being an absolute angel. Fem pronouns and reader gets picked up

A/N - so this is the first time ive posted in like months i think which is a little crazy, im so sorry for the delay. This is something that i just really wanted to write, i will be posting some requested writings soon as well as hopefully some more writings outside of just harry potter and marvel.

word count - about 3600

MASTERLIST

You were terrified. The feeling in the pit of your stomach made you want to cry but you pushed it down. There were bigger matters at hand. Bigger things to worry about. One of those things being the possibility of you never seeing your best friend or your boyfriend again. The thought made you shake and when you looked over at Fred and George you knew they were thinking the same thing.

You had been friends with the twins since as long as you could remember. Well actually, you had disliked them when you first met them, they were much too loud for you to get along with and they frustrated you to no end but you somehow had all of you classes and activities with them. They accidentally let loose a prank on you in your third year and you screamed at them before going up to the astronomy tower and crying. They followed you a few minutes later and apologized and sat with you until you stopped crying. Actually they stayed with you until they could make you laugh. From then on, you had a soft spot for the twins and the same happened to them.

You didn't know when you started to have romantic feelings for George, he always said that he started to feel something for you when he was in fifth year and you sneezed so hard you made a nearby owl fly away. You thought that was rather ridiculous but it made you blush all the same. You started dating in sixth year when Fred nearly shoved you two into a closet and told you he wouldn't let you out until you talked to each other about your feelings. Since then you had been the happiest you had ever been in your life and you were forever thankful to Fred who took 100% credit for your relationship. They were your family, all the Weasley's were. Now, looking at everyone you loved in a room, you felt worry rise in your throat. No, worry wasn't the right word. Terror.

George pulled you into his side and he kissed the top of your head deeply.

"I love you. You don't have to do this." He mumbled into your hair and you sighed.

"You know just as well as I do that we both have to do this. It's okay, I'll be with Moody. He won't let anything happen to me." You muttered and then turned so your face was pressed into his chest. "But I love you too." You whispered and a tear fell from your face and into George's shirt. You then pulled away and pulled Fred into a hug. He groaned dramatically.

"No, I'm hugging you. No complaining." You grumbled and he complied, his hand going around your back and smoothing out your hair. You knew he was looking at George, some sort of twin telepathy going between them but you didn't care. When you pulled away, both of them smiled gently at you. Then before you knew it, the polyjuice potion was being passed around. You gave one last look at George and drank the potion and he did as well. It was the worst tasting thing you'd consumed in a long time and as you were keeping yourself from throwing up at the taste you felt yourself get a bit taller. You looked to your side to see two more harry's. You smiled at them and began to change your clothes.

You had agreed to go as Harry with Moody, Mundungus would also be there as himself. You had decided to switch last minute. You all walked out of the house as the minutes ticked by waiting for Harry's protection charm to end. Eventually you all were off with one last longing glance at George.

The battle was one that would haunt you for the rest of your life. As soon as you left there were death eaters on you. All you could do was hold onto your broom for dear life, Moody on the broom behind you and Mundungus on a separate broom right next to you. Before you could think, there was green all around you and screaming from every direction. You just focussed on getting to the Weasley's, a route you knew by heart, and let Moody do the protecting. At some point you looked to your right and Mundungus was gone. When you looked to your left you were horrified to see the dark lord flying next to you. Tears came to your eyes at the realization that you would probably not be making it out of there. Moody quickly began sending spells his way but it was not an even fight. He held off Voldemort for an impressive amount of time but all good things end. You heard the killing curse and saw the green light and you expected it to hit you, you were the target. Somehow Moody got in front of you to stop you from getting hit and you screamed. When Moody's body fell from the broom, yours did too. You hit the ground with a thud and your body immediately screamed in pain. You looked to the side of you and saw Moody's body. Tears were falling from your face but the shock running through you prevented you from feeling whatever damage you took from the fall. You took a breath and gathered yourself. You needed to get out of here. You would have time to scream and grieve later if you made it out of this alive. The death eaters obviously thought you to be dead and Voldemort had fallen back for some reason. You feared it was because he realized you were not the real Harry. Your tears stopped, face hardened, and you stood with slight difficulty. You would have to get to the Weasley's and you prepared yourself to apparate. When you did, your aim had been a bit off. You were in the bog outside the burrow and you could see the light in the distance. There was a panic at the house and you realized that the others had all arrived. Despite the pain in your legs, you began to sprint to the burrow. You noticed that you were yourself again, your hair getting in your eyes as you ran.

"Y/N?" You heard Remus yell and you kept running. Someone pulled you into them and you looked up to see red hair. You had arrived at the burrow and the tears had begun as well.

"Fred, Moody is dead. Voldemort killed him. Mundungus disapparated right at the beginning, I don't know where he went. It was just me and Moody and then he just-"

"Shhh, hey you're safe now, it's gonna be okay." He muttered and you noticed the break in his voice. You suddenly realized that you didn't feel George near you. You pulled back quickly. "Living room" Fred stated and you headed in, Fred following behind you. When you saw George though, you were not filled with relief. In fact you were so filled with dread that you thought you might just throw up.

"Is he..." you whispered. You couldn't finish your question, dreading the answer.

"m' not dead" Came a whisper from the man you loved and tears began streaming down your face as you collapsed next to him and buried your face in his chest. Your breathing was rapid and your heart was racing. It only slowed when you felt a familiar hand brushing through your hair.

"Fred, I'm saintlike." you heard George whisper and you looked at him questioningly but he was looking across the room to his brother. Fred looked concerned and dropped down next to you, a hand going to your back.

"What's wrong with him? Is his mind affected?" Fred asked his mother worriedly. You were also looking to Molly for reassurance but she looked just as concerned as you.

"Saintlike. You see...I'm holy." George spoke again and all attention was on him. "Holey, Fred. D'you get it?" The relief that you felt was overwhelming and you laughed deeply before burying your face once again into the chest of the man you loved.

"Pathetic. Pathetic! With the whole world of ear related humor before you, you go for 'holey'?" Fred laughed with you, his voice cracking with emotion and the tears streaming down your face were now happy ones. You were so thankful that the man you loved was okay and unchanged besides the trauma he would likely carry. And of course that he only had one ear.

The rest of the night would go by in a blur. You were debriefed by Remus who tried to be as gentle as possible in his questioning. You did not leave George's side and neither did most of the Weasley's. However hours later you still hadn't moved or eaten, too scared to leave George. Enough time had passed that everyone told you George was out of the woods and most people had gone to bed. You couldn't leave though. Molly walked toward you, a plate full of food with her. George was asleep and you were staring at him fearfully, making sure that his chest was moving with life.

"You need to eat, dear." Molly whispered and you sniffed a bit.

"I cant." Was all you could say and she sat next to you.

"Well either you need to eat or I will wake George up so he can make you." At this you looked at her. She had unshed tears in her eyes and you suddenly tackled her in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Molly." You whispered into her neck where she was holding you.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" She asked.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him and that I wasn't here to help when he got here. I'm sorry I didn't convince him not to go. I'm sorry-"

"Hey, stop." She asserted and you did, pulling back to look at her. "Now you know why you went. George went for the same reason. You were both very brave and it could have been either of you who got hurt out there. Now you are both alive and okay and so are the rest of my children. I will be thankful for the rest of my life for that. But I still seem to have a kid who isn't taken care of and I need to make sure that she is. So will you please take a breath-" she paused to wait for you to take a deep breath, which you did, "and eat something. Or else I fear my son may have a heart attack when he wakes up. Okay?" she questioned and you sniffled and wiped your nose.

Making one last glance at the movement of George's chest before looking to Molly and nodding. She handed you the tray of food that instantly comforted you and she sat with you while you ate. You were both silent but you were thankful she was there to watch over George while you were distracted. When you were finished she took your plate and stood.

"Now I am going to get some rest. You should consider doing the same." She whispered and patted your hair. You watched her walk to her room and you looked back to the man in front of you.

You weren't sure how long you were sitting there but by the time you came out of your trance to a hand touching your face the fire was nearly out. You looked up at George and he looked sad.

"Are you okay, baby? Do you need anything?" You started to stand up, worried he was uncomfortable. He pulled you down on top of him on the couch and you squirmed, worried you would hurt him.

"Honey, I need you t' stop moving and let me hold you please." He sounded serious so you stopped trying to get off of him. Instead you sighed and moved to straddle his hips and then lay the rest of your body on top of him, your head going to his chest. "Thank you." he whispered. You lifted your head to look at him and he had tears in his eyes.

"Are you in pain, bubs?" you tried to be quiet so you wouldn't disturb the peace in the room.

"No. I'm just glad you're okay." He whispered and a tear fell. You reached up to brush it off and you smiled at him.

"Of course I am, you're the one who got hit by a spell." You reassured but he shook his head.

"You're right that I'm the one that got hit by a spell but Voldemort tried to kill you. You could have died tonight, Y/N." He seemed so sad but you didn't know how to comfort him. You hadn't really thought about it since you got to the burrow, too focused on George. You had yet to really process the fact that Moody had died to save you and without his sacrifice you would not be here with your boyfriend.

"I didn't though. I'm okay." You moved up a bit to kiss the cheek on the side furthest from his injury. "We are both okay." You put your head in his neck and sighed deeply. He took a deep breath into your hair and wrapped his arms around your back.

"We are never doing that again." He grumbled and you chuckled.

"Really? I was planning on taking some polyjuice tomorrow, maybe having another go at it." You smiled and he rolled his eyes.

"I thought I was supposed to be the comedian."

"Not when your last joke was 'holey'. Your comedian title has been revoked."

"Oh shut it, I'd just taken a curse to the head, give a guy a break." He smiled but you both stopped and the smiles dropped while remembering the reality of the situation. "How long have you been up watching me?" he asked gently and you sighed, preparing for your scolding.

"Probably 6 hours or so."

"SIX HOURS? You haven't slept since you got back? Darling you need to go to bed, why on earth did you stay up that long?" he practically screeched and you shushed him as best you could so he wouldn't wake the whole house. You didn't answer his question, instead looking at his chest. "Y/N why wont you sleep?" He asked again, this time more seriously. You felt tears come to your eyes.

"I couldn't-I had to-" you were cut off by your own tears.

"Hey, bubs, whats wrong? I'm sorry, didn't mean t' upset you, bunny." You shook your head at the thought that he had made you cry.

"I was just worried that-" You paused to take a breath, "I thought if I went to bed I might wake up and you wouldn't be..." You felt him shush into your hair. He hadn't really thought about it that way and he felt bad for keeping you up like that.

"Bunny, I am fine. I pinky promise." He pulled away to do just that. As your pinkies were interlocked he made decisive eye contact with you. "I promise nothing bad is gonna happen to me if you sleep, okay?" You nodded a bit and he leaned in to kiss you. "How about we both go to sleep and you can stay right on top of me so you can be with me if anything happens." He mumbles against your lips and you nodded again. He pulled you snuggly into him and put a hand on the back of your head to hold you there.

"I love you." You whispered into his chest, not even necessarily trying to get him to hear.

"I love you too, bunny. Now you need to shush and get some sleep." You huffed and finally settled into him. He couldn't sleep for much of the time you did, he could never admit it but he was quite scared as well. He shared your fears. He was worried he would wake up and you would no longer be with him. He got bits of sleep now and then but he couldn't sleep through the night. You stayed asleep on top of him until he saw the sun come up. He knew you were vaguely awake as your breathing wasn't as slow and you curled into him tighter.

"M' gonna get up to make us some tea, yeah?" You nodded slightly and he took that as an okay to get up. He picked you up gently and brought you to sit on the counter in the kitchen. His head didn't seem to hurt at all which surprised him a bit but he knew his mother was a gifted healer and she worked her magic on him to make sure he would feel okay the next day. He tried to step away from you to make some tea but you did not release him. Instead he was trapped standing in front of the counter, you clinging to him tightly. It was at that moment that the other twin decided to come into the kitchen.

"How's the hole?" He nudged George with his elbow and he chuckled.

"Not bad at all, don't even really have a headache." He muttered, still trying to be moderately quiet as you seemed to be in a half asleep state and he knew you needed all of the rest you could get.

"She doing okay?" Fred whispered, nodding toward you.

"Restless night." George replied and Fred nodded in understanding, moving to prep the tea for George seeing as he was trapped at the moment. When the tea was done, George rustled you awake slightly. "Would you like some tea, m'love?" You nodded and moved to sit up a bit, releasing George and catching Fred making gagging noises next to you.

"Oh shove off." You grumbled and he chuckled. You made a move to get off the counter and George grabbed your waist to assist you. As soon as you were on the ground you made your way over to Fred to hug him properly. You were just so relieved that your favorite people made it out of yesterday alive and Fred sighed and hugged back.

"Y/N, this is 3 hugs in 24 hours. I'm starting to worry about your head. There isn't a hole in it is there?" Fred questioned and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your head and turned it to look at the other twin across the kitchen who stood with tea in his hand, gazing at both of you with a calm and content look on his face. You smiled at him before releasing his brother who gave your hair a ruffle as you turned to look up at him.

"Thanks for being okay." You smiled at him and his gaze softened a bit.

"Right back at you."

The rest of the morning was spent drinking tea and talking, thankful just to be alive. As the family woke up there was more relieved exchanges without the shock and stress that had been present the night before. You rarely left George's side besides to let him get changed and have a private talk with his brother. Eventually Ginny dragged you away to get you cleaned up and changed into clothes that weren't covered in blood and grime. As you walked away the boys began to gather around George. Ron looked at the twins expectantly with a glint in his eye.

"Well? Show us then!" He got out a bit excitedly. Harry smiled as well and Bill seemed to have some jitters. George smirked before a ring appeared in his fingers. It was modest but it was all he could afford and he knew it wouldn't make a difference to you anyway. The boys all shoved each other in excitement and Fred clasped a hand on George's shoulder.

"I know you know this already but I just want to remind you that if you hurt her, all of us wouldn't hesitate to beat you to bits." He smiled but there was not so much humor behind his statement. The rest of the boys mumbled in agreement. George gave them all a look.

"Okay, first of all, I nearly died yesterday. I think you could all stand to be a bit nicer to me."

"We all did, get over yourself buddy." Bill joked and George rolled his eyes.

"Second of all, How come I'm the one getting threatened? I'm your brother."He looked around the group.

"'Cause she's the favorite, obviously." Ron stated simply before leaving the group, Harry and Bill following him, both giving George a teasing smile before they left.

"I think that was rather rude." George grumbled, though there was no malice behind it. He looked over at his twin who simply shrugged and patted him on the back.

"Just the way it is. If you two were to break up, I'm pretty sure she's the one who stays in the family." Fred winked before heading out of the room as well and George took a second to look at the ring in his hand. He heard footsteps and quickly shoved it into his pocket. You appeared in the doorway, hair matted down with water and in comfy clothes, fuzzy socks adorning your feet.

From the doorway you smiled at George who beamed back at you. You felt around in your pocket for a moment where your hands were shoved and when your hand hit the hidden ring there you let out a breath. You stared at each other for a moment, just content to be near each other without thinking about the war for a moment, warm light filling the room and calm in the air, both planning on later asking the other to spend the rest of your lives together.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hp #hp imagines #hp imagine #hp x reader #imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fluff #fluff #angst #weasley #x reader #oops

262 notes · View notes

bubbleteaimagines · 4 years ago

Text

You Can Rest Now

Levi Ackerman Oneshot

Summary: People often wonder why Levi’s so cold. For a man that’s lost everything, it’s not so hard to see

Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: Ansgt, gore, death

Authors Note: I got this idea suddenly and decided to break my heart

there was speculation. there was always speculation, but none more about levi ackerman.

the short man had a notorious reputation. he was cruel, nonchalant and just generally didn’t seem to care.

he was different. cold. so cold in fact, that death didn’t even seem to faze him. he could watch someone die and be fine the next minute.

but was he? it seemed so.

all the recruits admired his bravery and strength, but they feared his attitude.

what had made him so cold, exactly? so...closed up? who or what had turned his heart into stone, causing him to shut out the world around him so easily?

how did he do it?

why did he do it?

what had caused him to snap?

it was simple, really. levi had made a mistake. long ago, when he was foolish enough to still believe in love and happiness in this retched world. long ago before he realized that love made you weak, he make the mistake of loving someone in this cruel, cruel, world.

flashback —

“shit! y/n, they’re gaining on us!”

after three years in the survey corps, you could safely say that those words were anything but a good sign. scratch that, those words were the worst thing to hear out in the field. an omen of death, if you will, but you tried not to think about that as you furrowed your eyebrows and gripped your horse’s reigns tightly.

“how close?” you made the mistake of asking your comrade. a lump grew in your throat as you guys trekked across empty land. no trees, no buildings, absolutely nowhere to even think about using your 3dmg gear.

“i...,” he was at a loss of words. neither of you dared to look back, so he had to go off of the thumping footsteps that were getting closer and closer. “i reckon in the next minute or so they’ll be...”

“got it,” you pursed your lips together, not wanting him to finish that sentence. you knew what was coming. you both did. the very ground beneath you shook due to the titan’s footsteps. the monsters that you had been battling your whole damn life. “you ready to kick some ass, then?”

“always.” his voice was weak, his hands trembling as he reached for his swords. but his spirit had not yet been broken. neither had yours.

the footsteps were getting closer.

“i say we stay in rank but finish this thing off. then we’ll speed up and catch the others in case some more come,” you told him

anxiety pooled in your stomach as you thought about the rest of the soldiers. wrong place, wrong time, you knew that. but you couldn’t help it — your mind flashed images of him and you couldn’t help but feel scared for him, wondering if he had made it back to the wall safe or if he was still stuck on the ground, like you.

levi was a much better fighter than you. he was fast, efficient, and a valuable fighter. humanity needed him, and he had to be kept safe to fight another day.

that was the only reason you guys had been split up. he was on the special forces team, you weren’t. a damn good soldier you were but you were needed on the outer side of the formation, you were needed to protect levi.

after two years, he still hated the idea of you risking your life to protect him. he had fought tooth and nail with you and just about everybody else to keep you safe, to keep you next to him at all times. but commander erwin wouldn’t allow it. he couldn’t, levi was needed to save humanity. you weren’t.

you guys had had this argument time and time again. and time after time, you had reassured him that you would make it back. that he would always find your tired but yet still smiling face waiting for him on top of the walls.

why should this time be any different?

“let’s move!”

before you could even think, you had a ten meter titan lunging at you causing you to yelp and yank your horse out of the way. the beast whined in terror, it’s fear possibly rivaling your own. unfortunately though, that didn’t cause it to go any faster. you were gonna be forced to take it down yourself — you wouldn’t be able to outrun it all the way back to the wall.

“y/n!” your comrade yelled as you were swiped at again. this time though, you stood up on your horse and launched yourself at the titan, your gear lodging itself in it’s shoulders.

“keep moving! i’ll take care of this!” you yelled out to him.

letting out an angry cry, you whipped around the creature at astonishing speeds and aimed straight at the back of it’s neck.

a routine kill, that’s all this was.

fire danced behind your eyes while the creature moaned and swatted it’s hands at you. 36, that was your number of solo kills. and soon, it was 37.

“take that you fat bastard,” you yelled and sliced it right in the weak spot, never missing a beat as you carved up the flesh. blood splattered everywhere from the fatal wound and steamed as it got on your face and clothes. the titan went limp, and soon you propelled yourself back to the ground and back on your horse.

“well, looks like petra and me are tied. can’t wait to tell her,” you grinned as you carried on riding, your partner sighing in relief.

“you really are one of the best, you know that? you totally just saved our asses,” he grinned back at you.

“yeah, and you’d do well not to forget it,” you chuckled. “next time there’s cake, i want-”

“Y/N LOOK OUT!”

there was a scream, and then there was a sudden pressure as an abnormal came leaping out of nowhere and hit you dead on.

you didn’t have time to react. you barely even had time to scream before everything went to shit, your horse flying away from you and you — oh god. your comrade screamed as you flew through the air, and appeared again only as you were clutched in the titan’s mouth.

“w-what?” you couldn’t move. your vision was blurry from the hit but what you could feel was it’s breath. blindingly hot, and rancid. you had a first row seat as you hung from the monster’s jaws, everything from your waist and below clutched tightly in it’s teeth.

“y/n, no!” the strangled cry of your fellow comrade was all too familiar. it was a helpless cry, one you had heard many times from many different people. it was a cry of death, a cry of sorrow if you will. it was the type of sound people made when they were face to face with death.

“son of bitch,” you moaned as you lifted your head up, your (e/c) eyes meeting the bright blue ones of the titan. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

of all the ways to die, of all the times and situations, this just had to be it. with your luck, you were gonna be split in half by the ugliest goddamn titan you had ever seen.

“fuck me.”

dread pooled in your stomach.

as you stared down your killer, as you stared down death itself, only one thought crossed your mind.

“c-comrade,” you glared as the titan opened it’s mouth to devour you. “g-get out of here! you don’t need to see this!”

“y/n no! i’m coming!” he desperately clung to his gear, standing on his horse and preparing to take down the monster that was gonna kill his teammate. he couldn’t let that happen. he wouldn’t.

but you weren’t gonna let him die either. not whilst you were still alive.

“comrade! i said go! i’m the leader of this team so that’s an order!” you screamed at the solider causing him to freeze in place.

“no,” he whispered, watching as the monster’s jaws came down.

it was as if it were in slow motion. the universe dragging it out just so he could witness every detail. the moment you screamed profanities at the titan, promising that you’d see it in hell one day. the moment you ripped off your cape, letting one last piece of you remain on this earth. the moment you screamed for levi, yelling one last time how much you loved him.

the moment the titan’s jaws finally came down, cutting you in half.

everything stood still after that. time stopped completely, and your comrade couldn’t even scream, couldn’t even cry out for you as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your body went limp.

you were gone.

levi paced anxiously as he stood on top of wall maria. he had his hands behind his back, but his eyes were on full alert, searching the terrain in front of him for any signs of life.

for any signs of you.

levi didn’t understand. it had been well past an hour, and everyone had made it back except for your squad.

it wasn’t even a squad, really. just two people — so how could two people possibly be taking this long?

“captain, you should calm down. i’m sure y/n is gonna be fine,” petra placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but it did nothing to sooth levi.

“if they were fine they’d be back by now,” he snapped, his eyes darkening.

he didn’t want to admit it but levi was starting to lose hope. being gone for this long usually only meant one thing — but he refused to think about that. he refused to even let the thought cross his mind, shoving it so far back it was practically non existent. levi couldn’t think like that. he wouldn’t.

because it was no question whether you were okay or not. you had to be, there were no other options. no other scenarios other than you coming back alive and safe.

“captain—”

“silence!”

levi strained his ears as he heard hooves in the distance. he perked up.

it was the sound of a horse, most definitely. in fact, it was the sound of two horses, and in the distance he could see them galloping towards the wall, a titan right behind them and the lone rider.

levi’s heart swelled with hope.

“y/n!”

he was breathless as he ran towards the edge of the wall, igorning his fellow soldiers protests. extracting his swords, he quickly cascaded down the wall towards the person, hoping beyond hope that it was you.

commander erwin held out a hand to stop anyone from following him.

“don’t,” he warned, seeing how levi’s squad was gearing up. “this one’s for him.”

levi had never felt more eager in his life to escape into titan territory. quickly, he flew towards the rider and practically tackled them as he reached them.

“y/n, you—”

levi stopped dead in his tracks. confused, he tilted his head as he saw the grief-stricken face of your partner, but not you. in fact, you were nowhere in sight as the titan’s footsteps got louder.

“soldier, you had someone with you, yes? where is y/n?” levi demanded, completely ignoring the haunted and agonized expression of the solider.

“c-captain...i...,” how did he get the words out? how did your comrade look his captain in the eyes and tell him that you were gone — lost to the titan on a simple mission.

“well? we don’t have all pissant. spit it out,” levi snapped, becoming irritated at the lack of response.

where were you? if you hadn’t come back with your partner, then where the hell where you?

the soilder’s mouth moved but levi barely heard anything he said.

perhaps it was because he wasn’t standing close enough. or perhaps the titan’s thunderous footsteps drowned it out. or perhaps...it was because levi heard something he didn’t want to hear.

“dead?” levi tilted his head as if it were a foreign word. as if he had never heard the word before, when in reality it was probably the most used word in his vocabulary. “what do you mean y/n is...dead?”

the pieces didn’t fit. the word ‘dead’ and ‘you’ were apart of two completely different puzzles; they didn’t fit together. it was too wrong, too confusing for levi’s brain to pick up.

“t-they’re gone, sir,” the solider spit out painfully, letting out a wail. “w-we were on flat ground...the titan came out of nowhere...the abnormal...”

“shut up,” levi held his hand up as the pieces began to mold themselves. slowly, they transformed to fit each other.

“i-i’m sorry sir,” the soldier stammered, “t-they’re gone. they left this behind...but their body—”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” levi growled as anger began to flow through him, his fists twitching. the solider flinched back as levi’s death glare settled on him, burning holes through his skull.

“where do you get off on this? HUH?” levi yelled as he grabbed the man roughly, yanking him off of is horse. the beast whined in fear as the titan approached, but levi ignored it. instead, he focused on the red spots in his vision, pushing away the pain. pushing away the imagery that followed the solider’s words. all that was left of you was a cape...

“i’ll have you executed for this you bastard! you lying piece of shit—”

“CAPTAIN LEVI!” levi’s attention was diverted as commander erwin yelled out his name. briefly, he turned his attention to the wall where his fellow comrades and commander stood, horrified, “YOU HAVE A SITUATION!”

levi tore his gaze away from erwin and glanced over his shoulder. fast approaching was the titan that had followed the solider to the wall. an abnormal by the looks of it, with blood splattered all over it’s mouth.

levi felt his heart stop.

in the moment, it suddenly became real. he glanced at the solider’s terrified face, the cape in his arms that had your initials printed on it, and then back at the titan.

everything hit him at once.

and levi snapped.

“YOU BASTARD!”

he retracted his blades, squared his shoulders, and then zoomed off to battle the titan that that had murdered you. the love of his life.

levi saw red as an animalistic scream left him, his entire vision clouded with crimson as he made his target and slashed. levi slashed until there was nothing more to slash, the titan long dead and already dissolving by the time he was done.

“YOU ASSHOLE! YOU TOOK THEM! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

“CAPTAIN! soldier, you need to restrain him and get back over the wall, NOW!” commander erwin shouted.

more titan’s were approaching. too many people were standing by the walls. too much prey.

but levi didn’t care. he was angry, hurt, and beyond the levels of revenge. his blades were stained with the blood of your murderer. he wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t end them all, right then and there.

“CAPTAIN LEVI! WE NEED TO GO!”

levi ignored the solider’s plea and stood his ground, hatred burning behind his eyes. he’d kill them, he’d kill every last one of them for what they did to you. his life be damned.

in that moment, it didn’t matter that humanity needed him.

he needed to avenge you.

“FALL BACK! DO NOT ENGAGE! I REPEAT, DO NOT ENGAGE! EVERYBODY STAND BACK!”

levi braced himself for the attack. he was running on pure hatred now.

he was dangerous when he was calm. but he was unstoppable when he was deadset on getting revenge for the one person he had left to care about.

“holy shit—”

“no way—”

“did he just?—”

all around levi was blood. crimson red soaked him to the bone, pouring over every inch of his body. it rained on him, like a sadistic waterfall carved out by levi’s sword.

but it wasn’t his.

none of it, not a single drop of the blood was his.

levi sheathed his now broken swords and leaned down to retrieve the only thing not soaked with titan blood. the only thing that wasn’t stained or reminded him of their treacherous, godforsaken existence.

“i did it,” he whispered, clutching your cape tightly. he held the fabric in his trembling hands, holding it over his heart as a way to hold you close— one last time.

“i killed that thing. you can rest now.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman angst #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan #aot imagines #aot #attack on titan x reader

975 notes · View notes

tennessoui · 3 years ago

Note

You kind of already did 31 but pleaseeeeeeee

these ficlets keep getting longer ffs this is 2k

31. One is a sex worker, the other is a client AU

anakin's had his turn as a sex worker in my writing so it's Obi-Wan this time, paired with Vaderkin and i made it more dark than I thought would happen whoops but. warnings are: probably bordering extremely dubious consent even though no sex happens and this is just the lead up. a brief reference to underage sex work, though absolutely nothing comes of it. and vaderkin being a bit creepy.

There is a saying among the workers at the Establishment: if the imperial palace calls for you, you should hope the person that is displayed next to you is prettier.

Obi-Wan has never bought into prayers of any kind and this saying is only ever said with something akin to a worshipful dread. Still, when Ahsoka drapes a cloak of red around his shoulders and whispers those words to him—“May the others be your betters”—he thinks for a second about the nature of prayer and of hope and the futility of both in this galaxy.

“Don’t worry, little ‘Soka,” he smiles from under the cloak’s hood. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He is, after all, one of the oldest workers here, makes most of his money these days tending bar and running the front desk, called in to serve mostly for virgin customers who want a gentler and more experienced hand to guide them in the art of pleasure. He doesn’t think any of the words could be used to describe the Emperor Vader, can’t see the imposing black-suited man interested in the art of pleasure.

Ahsoka can’t look him in the eye, but she hugs him tightly as he boards the shuttle that will take him to the Palace.

The ride there is quiet. Obi-Wan tries to avoid as many glances from the other people as he gives to them. Most of them are young, human. He seems to be the only male above 40. His chances are good.

Maybe he hadn’t been lying to Ahsoka. Maybe, truly, his name being included on the list had been a mistake

Something inside him hesitates though. He’d been out in the Upper levels a week ago, making his way home after one of his rare appointments with an old client turned friend. A child had fallen into the path of a small parade of speeders. A correctional officer had raised a whip. Obi-Wan had reacted on instinct, catching its lash with his forearm. The child had run off. Obi-Wan had stayed. He’d raised his head just enough, eons later, to see the durasteel outside of the largest speeder pass by his prone form, just enough to see the Imperial crest on its hull. Just for long enough to see a glint of a yellow eye from the window.

Bacta had treated his wounds, but his mind had not allowed him to rest easily, caught up in the memory of that eye--had he imagined the interest? Had he imagined it all?

And so to hear his name called tonight--the first calling since The Incident--had felt like the confirmation of all of his most unfounded fears.

Would tonight be the night he died? He had lived a long life. A rough one. Perhaps it is time.

Still, in the back of his head, a selfish, utterly human part of him whispered, may the others be your betters.

---

Those chosen do, often, come back. Sometimes they do not. Mostly they do. Obi-Wan has never truly decided which of these fates is the worse one. Those who survive don’t say anything for days on end, their eyes blank as they stare forward. Their bruises, if they are there, are easy to heal. But something is always wrong with their minds afterwards. And those who don’t come back...well. It’s hard to say what happens to them, where they go. Far away or down below.

Obi-Wan is forced to his knees in between a moderately aged female Togruta and a fairly young teenager. The boy is shaking. He can’t be more than sixteen.

They’re in the Entrance Hall. Obi-Wan has never been here before, but he supposes it makes sense. There will be one person who ventures further into the Palace. The rest will be dismissed out the doors that just shut. No need to bring the scum further in than they have to.

Distantly, like a funeral drum, Obi-Wan can hear the sound of feet falling, making their way closer. Just a single pair. He wants to look up, to watch the Emperor--because it has to be the Emperor--approach, but there’s a Guard behind him, holding his head down.

The footsteps are close now. There’s only ten of them--sometimes, Obi-Wan has heard that there can be as many as twenty or thirty--so the line is short. Vader paces quietly from the first to the last person, before stopping in the middle. Obi-Wan can just see the black of his boots if he flicks his eyes as far as they can go to the left. The boy next to him lets out a muffled sob. Obi-Wan wishes he could offer the kid some sort of comfort, some sort of reassurance that the Emperor will choose one of the other workers, a body more desirable than either of theirs, but there are no words to describe the guilty relief of a suffering passed onto someone else.

On some sort of invisible signal, the Guard behind Obi-Wan wrenches his head back by the hold he has on both the silken hood and his own hair. It’s far from comfortable, tilted so far back. The message is obvious. Submission is not optional. Respect will be shown through any means necessary.

Obi-Wan tries to keep the hulking form of Vader in his eyesight, even though to see ahead of him he has to close his eyes almost completely because of the angle. It’s impossible to see anything from the chest up, but he can still hear. Loud, mechanical breathing fills the halls. Vader stops at each person for no longer than five seconds before he continues down the line. Obi-Wan holds his breath, waiting for his turn. Does he turn his head as much as he can, to try and accentuate the gray at his temples? Does he lower his eyes?

He doesn’t, in the end, do either. Vader is wearing a mask, completely covering his face. He doesn’t even look human, except for the way he cocks his head slightly as he stares down at Obi-Wan. He feels flayed, just under the single look, but he can’t turn away either. He glowers up at him. Five seconds pass. Vader should be moving on by now. The fact that he hasn’t fills Obi-Wan with the sort of fear he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.

“This one,” Vader says through a voice modulator. Obi-Wan closes his eyes in defeat, thinks of Little Ahsoka back at the Establishment, thinks of what she’ll think if he doesn’t make it home.

But the boy next to him bursts into sobs and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see that Vader’s hand isn’t pointing to him at all, but instead just to his right.

But Vader’s face is still pointed directly at Obi-Wan though, head still cocked. The question is as clear as if he actually spoke the words aloud. What will you do about this?

What will he do? What can he do? It’s the street from a week ago all over. A child is in danger. How can Obi-Wan ever live with himself if he doesn’t at least try to throw himself on the blade?

“No!” he says before he can think it through. The Guard behind him jerks his hair back roughly in punishment, but the monster in front of him runs two gloved fingers down his cheek, the pantomime of a lover’s caress. “Me instead. Choose me.”

“Quiet,” the Guard hisses to him, making him wince with the ferocity of the yank he gives his hair. Obi-Wan pants open-mouthed as he tries to think of an argument, of a single reason why the Emperor should not get what he wants, should settle for a washed up whore instead of a younger model. All he can think of is the moral justifications of it, and he’s not sure Vader would care for that line of reasoning.

“I’m asking,” he blurts out. The fingers pause from where they’ve been absent-mindedly touching his beard. “When has anyone ever asked?”

The Emperor takes a step back and seems to consider Obi-Wan, what he has to offer. He tries to preen, to throw his shoulders back and sit back on his heels to show off his body, but it’s hard when the Guard hasn’t let up on his hair. In fact the grip gets even tighter as the man behind him snorts a common insult.

A second later, the hand and the pressure disappear. Obi-Wan falls forward automatically at his sudden release. He scrambles away instinctively, even if that means closer to Vader. Vader who has his hand raised out in front of him clenching his gloved fist tight. Obi-Wan looks behind him at the guard who had held him. The man is scrabbling at his throat. Obi-Wan knows already it will be a futile effort. With Vader distracted by his execution, he turns to check on the boy. He’s looking down, refusing to make eye contact.

Probably for the better.

The Guard falls to the floor. The other nine Guards don’t move at all. Obi-Wan supposes there’s no room for loyalty in a galaxy like this.

“Come,” Vader says, running a hand through his hair. It’s a surprisingly gentle touch, seeing as that hand just took someone else’s life.

Slowly, Obi-Wan rises to his feet and follows behind him, through the twisting halls of the Imperial Palace. He thinks anyone could get lonely here if they have no one to keep them company. It’s so big. Obi-Wan shares his room with three other people, and he frets if one of them is still gone by the time he falls asleep.

This much space would drive anyone mad for another’s touch.

He blinks at himself, incredulous. Is he actually trying to feel compassion for the Emperor? Is it actually working?

The Emperor flings open a pair of elaborate doors without touching them, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s in the bedchambers of the most powerful man on the planet. And to think, he’s wearing mismatched and terribly darned socks.

He resolves to not ask Vader for permission to do anything with his own body for the entire night. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Vader takes off his cape and his gloves.

“Would you like to know my prices before or after?” He asks as cooly as possible.

“Your price is that it’s you here and not the boy.”

“Would you have wanted the boy?” Obi-Wan can’t hide the disgust in his tone.

“No,” the Emperor says succinctly. “But I did want to know what you would do. If you really were the same man as the one in the street.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. “Why would you want to know that?”

“There’s so little good left in the galaxy. It’s fascinating that so much is concentrated in you.” Vader reaches up to unlatch his mask. A cascade of golden curls falls out.

He huffs. The Emperor of the Galactic Empire thinks there’s not enough good in the galaxy. It’s at the very least ironic. “It’s a greedy galaxy, your Imperial Majesty--”

The Emperor turns around to face him, helmet still held in his hands. Obi-Wan is surprised to learn he’s just a man. An attractive man, certainly, young and almost pretty with a perfect arch to his lips and a roguish scar cutting through a thick eyebrow. If he had been one of Obi-Wan’s workers, he’d have taken him under his wing, tried to protect him from the clients who would have paid extra to rough up that face.

He was saying something. Obi-Wan had meant to say something else. Oh. Right. “Good cannot be bought.”

The man in front of him--was it really Vader?--smiles, but it doesn’t reach his yellow eyes. “No,” he purrs, discarding his helmet and stalking forward. “But you can.”

#asks #tw: dubious consent #obikin #my fics #vaderkin #prompt fill

230 notes · View notes