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honeyabyss · 3 years

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Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm

Lucifer:

this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!

so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway

due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed

he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else

so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm

disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself

"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"

he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision

"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."

Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone

he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more

BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back

he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up

from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you

Mammon:

"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"

this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him

he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years

"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"

he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you

"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."

when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)

"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?

He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again

besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing

now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you

he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them

Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls

Leviathan:

phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!

Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long

he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough

so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D

"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"

poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone

he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is

once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice

"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"

Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...

on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon

so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games

Satan:

Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you

Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on

you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well

one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone

"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."

back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that

you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read

now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book

"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"

Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book

even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient

"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"

Asmodeus:

"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"

no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion

whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop

those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...

you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath

"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"

*water sloshing noises intensified*

Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!

"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"

what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though

seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time

"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"

Beelzebub:

"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"

now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now

and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot

he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up

but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day

when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time

when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack

"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"

though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you

of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you

on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you

"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"

Belphegor:

Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!

he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone

Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more

sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed

"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."

he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again

so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...

"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."

he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening

"Zzz..."

he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down

Diavolo:

"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"

as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle

with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!

"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"

this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...

but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas

the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers

so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know

sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now

"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"

surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!

Barbatos:

Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you

so you might not get to hear of him very often

BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him

so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household

"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"

no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."

you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet

the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you

he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break

"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"

Solomon:

Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming

so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option

"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"

Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...

Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?

Oh Lord was that an explosion?!

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"

no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you

he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you

if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you

"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."

Simeon:

Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day

he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then

He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you

"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"

though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself

"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"

over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name

Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself

then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later

Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking

"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"

Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment

Luke:

Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free

he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!

but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company

Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember

"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"

when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self

"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"

Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

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alohajun · 2 years

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♡ TREASURE AS YOUR STUDENT TUTOR

tutor!treasure x tutee!reader | wc : 4.1k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, crack, fluff, me being your local supportive bestie | loki's lines : reposting! i did a little take on this kinda like treasure student tutors teaching their crush of sorts ?? or like falling for their tutee in the process of teaching them kinda way | request : hello darling, may i request a treasure as student tutors?

CHOI HYUNSUK

🐷 the english-language student tutor

🐷 hyunsuk would thank the deities when he found out he was tutoring you

🐷 will be such a giggly mess when he first tutors you bc his stomach is literally overflowing with butterflies

🐷 definitely took this as a sign from the universe since he got to tutor his crush

🐷 would be the type to do lessons outside while going on a walk or smth

🐷 the world is your textbook, and you two are going on an adventure as you learnt more words through the experience

🐷 a very patient tutor, unless you repeat the same mistake multiple times constantly

🐷 but even his tantrums would be cute, so you might piss him off a few times

🐷 intentionally

🐷 hyunsuk would make sure not to force the work on you and have you learn at your own pace

🐷 definitely the type of tutor to reward after an exam

🐷 “if you score well, y/n, i will take you on a date to that restaurant we saw while studying out, okay?”

🐷 sis istg if you don’t get good grades, i will cry for you

PARK JIHOON

🐼 the korean-language student tutor

🐼 jihoon doesn’t seem like the type to tutor anyone at anything

🐼 but when he found out you needed a korean-language tutor, manz would come to class dressed in a suit as if he was applying for a job

🐼 i wish i was kidding about the suit part

🐼 bc in jihoon’s head, first impressions matter (even though you probably talked to him before) and therefore he came to class wearing a suit

🐼 “hey, y/n. i heard you needed a tutor for korean? i could teach you if you don’t mind.”

🐼 and let me tell you, only an insane person would decline this offer

🐼 MANZ CAME DRESSED IN A BLACK SUIT SHIRT TIE COAT AND ALL and you really gonna decline ??

🐼 jihoon is very confident in his teaching methods and surprisingly enough, his occasional flirting and smug comments actually helped you focus more on the subject

🐼 only bc you couldn’t meet his eyes and didn’t look up from your book

🐼 but along the line, you kinda fell for his personality and maybe even adopted a few of his traits

🐼 you might even pull a jihoon and ask him out on a date before he could ask you

🐼 flustered jihoon ; a sight i’d pay to see

KANEMOTO YOSHINORI

🐯 the music composition student tutor

🐯 yoshinori baby tiger best boi i’m sorry i just had to get it out there

🐯 manz actually wanted to become a kindergarten teacher before the whole idol she-bang so i can only assume he’d be a great teacher

🐯 very patient and kind when it comes to teaching

🐯 doesn’t get mad even if you ask him to repeat the same sequence a hundred times

🐯 music composition is something he loves doing, and teaching it to others would make him the absolute happiest person in the world

🐯 you were also a very focused person — doing your very best and giving your all to grasping the concept of music composition thoroughly

🐯 and yoshi would see that

🐯 perhaps would also fall for you bc of your passion for the subject

🐯 but yoshi being yoshi, he wouldn’t say anything or reveal any feelings until you were done with your music composition module

🐯 so after you finish your module (and also pass with flying colors) be prepared for the cutest confession ever

🐯 yoshi would 11/10 send you a recording asking you to rate it bc he wants to use it for a project and you’d comply, ready to do anything for the man who helped you pass your module

🐯 smooth vocals + lyrical rap + amazing composition + a little confession in the end = you falling for yoshi

🐯 “being your tutor was fun, y/n … but since your exam is over, why don’t we go on a date to keep seeing each other?”

🐯 SIR I AM SCREAMINGGGG

KIM JUNKYU

🐨 the practical music student tutor

🐨 like jihoon, junkyu wouldn’t be the type to tutor anyone — but the kid needed his extra credit

🐨 and when his professor informed him he could get extra points if he tutored someone from the junior batch, he’d happily comply

🐨 bc after all, how hard can it be to teach someone practical music?

🐨 and that was when junkyu was gifted with you, his amazing tutee

🐨 no i'm not kidding when i say amazing just hear me out

🐨 junkyu would go through all the basics together with you, working on your vocal training and everything

🐨 except you didn’t need any of that bc you were really good at everything he taught

🐨 “y/n … why do you need a tutor? you are already so good. i don’t know what more i could teach you!”

🐨 you realised your act was up — and that was fine bc you had prepared your heart for this moment

🐨 “well, i kinda like you. and when i heard you were looking for someone to tutor for extra credit, i signed up.”

🐨 junkyu would burst into the cutest giggles, completely in awe at the extent you went to just bc you crushed on him

🐨 “you are such a cute idiot, y/n. you could’ve just told me, silly.”

🐨 yes kiddo, let’s scream together AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

TAKATA MASHIHO

🐹 the liberal arts student tutor

🐹 aka the very cute-looking but very strict tutor

🐹 except when you make mistakes — bc that’s when mashi smiles like an idiot bc he finds you cute

🐹 “noo … media frames is the ability of the media to influence the public. how did you even come up with photo frames? actually don’t answer.”

🐹 teaching you is something mashiho found amusing bc you grasped the difficult concepts with ease, but always jumbled the easiest topics

🐹 as the days passed, you only kept getting worse at retaining whatever concepts were taught to you by mashi

🐹 AND BOI DID HE NOTICE yes he did

🐹 your exams were nearing too, and he was concerned, seeing you couldn’t focus on your tutoring session like you used to

🐹 “hey, y/n? is anything bothering you? ik it isn’t my place to ask or anything, but you aren’t working like you used to, and i wanna know why.”

🐹 AND ON ANY OTHER DAY your heart would’ve swollen bc wah takata mashiho is concerned about you yippee-ki-yay

🐹 but you couldn’t have that today NOPE and why tf not you may think

🐹 WELL THAT’S BC THE REASON YOU ARE DISTANT AND NOT FOCUSING WELL IS BC OF MASHIHO duh ?? like he’s so cute and good-looking and smart and beaUTIFULLL DONNA KESHIKI MO~

🐹 ahem excuse me pardon me i had a little smth in my throat ANYWHO you were distracted by mashiho and since he was so concerned you couldn’t help but tell him the reason

🐹 “it’s not a big deal, but idk i guess i have a crush on you, and i can't stop thinking about you. so it’s just kinda hard to focus when you teach me bc you are too good-looking that you make my mind malfunction.”

🐹 mashiho would nod understandingly, looking at the ceiling as he pretended to ponder over your words — which kinda made you nervous bc you just confessed and this manz seems like he’s tryna analyse your confession like an english teacher

🐹 “how about we make a deal? if you get less than 60s, i’ll take you out for dinner. but if you get more than 60s, i’ll be your boyfriend.”

🐹 girl i will start a prayer circle for you so you get above 60s

YOON JAEHYUK

🦁 the chinese-language student tutor

🦁 why did i choose chinese? idek jae just gives me them vibes

🦁 jaehyuk is overall a sweet guy, but when it comes to teaching, he is a little more strict

🦁 only bc he wants the best for you

🦁 jaehyuk got into tutoring to make some cash in his free time, but he’d definitely give his all to anyone he tutors — bc he’s just nice like that

🦁 but for you … things were a little more special bc he kinda had a crush on you

🦁 and by little more special i mean jaehyuk excessively teasing you and being sarcastic whenever you screwed up

🦁 “aigoo, y/n. don’t you even know what ‘thank you’ is? it’s literally one syllable repeated twice.”

🦁 but if you pout or remotely do anything that depicts you are sad at what he said … instant change of yoon jaehyuk

🦁 “you know what? it’s my bad. i wasn’t a good enough teacher. let’s just go through it again.”

🦁 even your smallest accomplishment is glorified, which actually motivates you to do better bc you feel better about yourself

🦁 and no, jaehyuk isn’t magnifying your progress bc he knows you get motivated

🦁 no, manz does it bc he genuinely appreciates your effort and is proud of how far you have come and are doing

🦁 “do i just have to be your chinese tutor, tho? can't i be your boyfriend who helps you with your chinese while also doing stuff boyfriends do?” he’d confess while rambling one day after a tutoring session with you

🦁 you panicked and went “xie xie” (meaning; thank you) suddenly remembering all the chinese lessons you did with jaehyuk

🦁 “i’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’ for being your boyfriend. say ‘xie xie’ again to confirm.”

🦁 bruh if you don’t say the word istg i will come for your ankles

HAMADA ASAHI

🤖 the art student tutor

🤖 silent, mysterious and very talented ; aka mr robo-sahi

🤖 you heard a lot of rumors from other students, but you brushed them aside and gladly accepted when you found out he would be your art tutor for the last semester

🤖 asahi would be very silent throughout your tutoring sessions, only speaking when you asked a question or to explain smth but even then it’d be very soft ok first rumor about sahi being mute; eliminated

🤖 more tutoring sessions would pass, and though you did better in art, you felt like nothing changed with asahi — he was the same mysterious silent tutor you had in the beginning of these two weeks

🤖 not even a smile or laugh came from this man, but whenever you saw him with his friends, he had a really cute gummy smile rumor #2 of him having no emotions ; eliminated — and even messed around with some meme faces, but none of that came when he was with you

🤖 heck, he always spoke in whispers, so you never really heard his proper voice either

🤖 it was very trustfrating

🤖 truth was that asahi kinda had a crush on you, and being your tutor, he thought he wouldn’t be able to do it if he opened up and acted like he did with his friends — so he did what he did best and put on an emotionless face and had the minimalistic interactions with you

🤖 after around a month of tutoring sessions, you finally got the courage to ask him about why he never smiled or spoke properly when he was with you

🤖 “this is really weird, but you always speak in whispers. and you never smile either. i just want to know if you don’t like me or anything. bc if i’m making you uncomfortable, then we don’t have to do these tutoring sessions anymore.”

🤖 “it’s actually pretty much the opposite. you make me feel very comfortable … and i kinda like you. but you don’t have to say anything about it bc those are my feelings, and you don’t have to be burdened.”

🤖 dude if you don’t take him on a date after this cuteass rambling confession i'm gonna steal your blankets

BANG YEDAM

🦊 the dramatic arts student tutor

🦊 fun fact; i have done elocution from london academy of music and dramatic arts when i was small — it was very fun

🦊 yedam seems to fit the theatre kid vibe, and that’s exactly what we are doing here

🦊 all the newbies to the club were paired with the kids who had done dramatic arts for a long time since the newcomers were a lot for the teachers to handle

🦊 so there you are with your student tutor, yedam, in the corner of the room, going through various emotion cards while you acted out the lines in the paper you held

🦊 yedam was impressed with your skills and knew instantly you’d play a lead role — since he was a lead himself — and a lead knows a lead when they see one ‘;)

🦊 fast forward to multiple tutoring sessions later, where yedam teaches you the various techniques of conveying your emotions using different tones and pitches

🦊 AND YOU ABSOLUTELY EATING UP EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM AND DOING THE BEST YOU CAN which is amazing btw may i add

🦊 with each tutoring session, yedam fell for you more than the last, and it was becoming crazily evident — and if it weren’t for you believing it was only yedam acting, you would’ve figured it out too

🦊 and lucky for you, mr bang yedam had a slipup while acting out a scene with you

🦊 “i feel so confused whenever i think about you, and my head feels like it’s going to explode. you’ll probably think i’m such a sappy idiot, but i can't seem to do anything without you. you are the best part of my day, y/n.”

🦊 your eyes went wide as soon as your name left his lips, surprised bc that was when you realised he wasn’t acting — sure, it could’ve been a mistake, but you knew his body language all-too-well now to know that he genuinely meant every word he said

🦊 you awkwardly held onto the papers in your hand, frozen like a statue even tho you weren’t the one who confessed their feelings

🦊 “yk for a really talented person, you sure can't handle an impromptu confession.” yedam would smoothly try covering it up, making you confusedly look at him

🦊 “that was an impromptu?” you asked, checking bc you still had your suspicions

🦊 “i mean, if you felt uncomfortable bc of it, then we can pretend it was an impromptu. i’m alright with that.”

🦊 sis i'm bouta bust into that club and kidnap you if you are gonna pretend the confession never happened

KIM DOYOUNG

🐰 the practical dance student tutor

🐰 since the practical dance professor was not present, senior students were paired with the juniors to work on the syllabus, since they had more time on their hands

🐰 and doyoung obv didn’t enjoy staying in one place — and didn’t miss the chance to socialize and make friends — so he signed up for the tutor/tutee program

🐰 which he regretted once he saw he was gonna be tutoring you

🐰 you were the nameless person he had a crush on after repeatedly seeing you around school

🐰 wherever he went, you were somehow there, and the repeated incidences — along with a lot of stalker-ish observing from doyoung (which I do not condone unless it’s not creepy and just harmless observing) — the boi kinda fell for you

🐰 he saw how kind you were to everyone and how polite you were when you spoke

🐰 you had the prettiest eyes, the cutest laugh, and the most contagious smile — it’s evident at this point that either i or doyoung have fallen for you

🐰 let’s go with doyoung for this sake of this writing :) <3

🐰 doyoung is a naturally charming and funny person — but for you, he would try 10x as hard bc he really wanted to make a good impression

🐰 a splash *tips over the whole bottle* of flirting while he teaches you the basics of contemporary dancing

🐰 doyoung seems like a very clumsy teacher, kinda forgetting certain steps along the way and only teaching it later on — which would be confusing, but you are smart so you got it down

🐰 11/10 would come up with freestyle dances that require partners (for your evaluation tests) so that you two could spend more time together and get closer yes, quite literally

🐰 his tactics worked bc within a month or so, you had mcfallen for kim doyoung

🐰 but that had its downfalls too bc you lost a lot of focus with all the ddukdduk your heart was going whenever you saw him — so you did what you thought best and asked for a change of tutors

🐰 doyoung would be so surprised bc he was sure you showed an interest in him, so why did you ask for a change? he’d definitely ask you about it

🐰 “well, i might have a crush on you and you being so close isn’t good for my heart, so that’s why i need a change of tutors.”

🐰 “oh, don’t worry about that, y/n. i’m willing to be your boyfriend too. if you accept that offer, then a bonus would be that i can also be your dance partner. how does that sound?”

🐰 yes, it took a few tries for doyoung to get that sentence out and for you to understand it — but the summary is that an offer was made

🐰 and binch you better accept or else your ankles will be compromised

WATANABE HARUTO

🦙 the japanese-language student tutor

🦙 confused kid half of the time

🦙 like sure japanese is his mother-tongue no biggie but where and how does he start

🦙 haruto would be very shy at first — he would barely talk with you and just teach you, not even checking if you grasped the concept

🦙 but along the line as you progressed, making mistakes as you learnt, ruto became less shy around you

🦙 would definitely make more jokes once you let loose around him — bc now he knows you are comfortable too

🦙 occasional under-his-breath “kawaii~” whenever you did smth that was endearing to him

🦙 haruto would be the absolute proudest whenever you finished a lesson and would smile to himself as you cheered for yourself

🦙 except he would slightly tease you — not really showing how proud he was of you for completing the lesson

🦙 “that’s just a beginner’s lesson. anyone can do that. let’s move on to these lessons. now if you complete this, maybe we can consider you as a smart person.”

🦙 you’d definitely work harder bc now learning japanese wasn’t the goal; it was getting a compliment from haruto

🦙 it would be almost a year of learning japanese, and you still didn’t get a compliment from haruto — which kinda demotivated you since your lessons were ending

🦙 “y/n … since you are almost done learning japanese … is there anything you’d like from me once you are done?” haruto would ask one day out of the blue

🦙 you nodded immediately, finally getting the chance. “the day i give my test and walk out, i want you to give me a compliment. is that too much to ask?”

🦙 haruto shook his head, giving you a smile. “okay, deal. now study well to earn that compliment.”

🦙 on the day of your fluency test, haruto waited outside the exam hall until you came. it was an instantaneous test, so you got your results as soon as you did the test — and that was kinda terrifying in a way

🦙 haruto would watch you with observant eyes as you walked towards him, holding your test in your hands

🦙 “I PASSED THE TEST WITH 100% FLUENCY! I DID IT, WATANABE HARUTO! NOW GIVE ME MY COMPLIMENT!” you screamed loudly, not even caring as everyone looked at you in surprise

🦙 “i’m proud of you. i love your determination. it’s one thing about you i fell for. and if you don’t mind, i’d like to take you on a date … and maybe i’ll tell you the other things i love about you.”

🦙 broski you did it and i'm proud of you

PARK JEONGWOO

🐺 the music theory student tutor

🐺 very well prepared for the tutoring session, but don’t worry, it’s only for the first ten classes

🐺 jeongwoo would do his best to prepare for tutoring you, and would even go to the extent of making sure he made a good impression by wearing semi-formal clothes and maybe even some glasses

🐺 you were a very cheery and friendly person, so jeongwoo felt at ease once you two met a few times

🐺 and you got to see the real jeongwoo quite quickly since he was more comfortable

🐺 11/10 would tease you if you ever messed up your notes or got a question wrong

🐺 but like jaehyuk, jeongwoo would quickly fix his comment if he saw you weren’t happy with the way he teased you

🐺 “you don’t know what’s a bar? pfft y/n, you — wait, actually i don’t think i have taught you that before. okay, it’s my fault. i'm sorry.”

🐺 he’s really good at explaining the subject, so you’d catch onto everything easily — which actually made him go through your syllabus slower bc he didn’t want to cover everything quickly

🐺 jeongwoo enjoyed spending time with you, and he needed a little more time to wrap his head around the fact

🐺 definitely kinda seems the type to make up excuses once he realises he might have a crush on you — bc 1) he’s conducting an experiment with himself to see if it’s true, 2) he doesn’t know how to break it to you and 3) he doesn’t know if he should even tell you

🐺 after a week of no tutoring sessions and minimal texting, jeongwoo concluded his self experiment

🐺 he has a crush on you ; confirmed so do i tho

🐺 “maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore. i don’t think i can tutor you, y/n. i might get a heart attack at this rate.” the last few words were very quiet, but you caught on and realised the situation

🐺 and you quickly acted upon it bc you would not lose the chance where your crush liked you back too

🐺 “do you think you can tutor me if i liked you too, jeongwoo?”

🐺 a definite yes and vigorous nods from the boi

🐺 yay you are with the park jeongwoo, yes you are welcome

SO JUNGHWAN

🐮 the general student tutor

🐮 ok general tutor bc you joined your school a term late and your teacher paired you with junghwan to help you catch up before the year-end exams

🐮 junghwan misunderstood the whole thing at first, and simply handed you photocopies of all his notes for the subjects and walked away after bowing politely

🐮 you ran behind him, thanking him for the notes before asking when you two should meet for discussing the subjects

🐮 to which he went ??? bc he thought he was only supposed to hand you the notes ??? what are these discussions you speak of ???

🐮 “well, mr kim said you’d tutor me in the stuff i missed bc some topics can't be self-studied. you are so junghwan, right? did i get the wrong person?”

🐮 confused and surprised super king cow baby

🐮 “oh, no, no. i am so junghwan. i thought i had to just give the notes … um, but we can study together, if you are fine with it? idk how much i can help but we can try!”

🐮 he’d kick his nervousness aside to give you a straight answer, knowing you were probably more panicked than him

🐮 heck, you were a new kid who joined in the middle of the year — that’s scarier than his shyness around new students

🐮 “let’s start from tomorrow! library after school?”

🐮 AND THAT IS THE START OF YOUR LOVE STORY i mean tutoring sessions

🐮 although by the end of the year, you two would definitely have hinted enough for literally EVERYONE AROUND YOU to know that y’all have a crush on each other

🐮 and junghwan’s hyungs and your friends would tell you two about it

🐮 “y/n clearly likes you! and you do too! go ask them out!”

🐮 “junghwan smiles like an idiot every time you laugh. if that’s not a crush, it must be insanity. you got nothing to lose! tell him how you feel!”

🐮 you read it broseph tell hwanie how you feel my job here is done

taglist — @ravenori @jensrose @hotgirlsunoo @nanasdream @twntycm @roseky21 @heejojo @fightmegirl @koishua @silent-potato @lovethyfandoms2 @kpoprhia @woooooooosh8 @milkybonya @enhacolor @yunho-leeknow @yoshiikore @f4ery @candililac @willdieforbeidou @luvbrie @jun-bug @mui890mew @yogurteume (to be added, please send an ask or dm!)

TREASURE MASTERLIST

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 3 years

Text

Is This On?

Also on Ao3

Muggle things weren’t that complicated. If Potter could master them, then so could Draco. Refrigerators were a godsend and whoever invented the telly was a genius. He had figured out the function of a light bulb instantly, it was the electricity itself that he still hadn’t fully grasped. Where did it come from? How did it know when to work? Some things, however, didn’t make any sense no matter how many times it was explained to him.

The internet.

Draco didn’t understand where it began, where it was located or how it worked. All he knew was that he could ask questions to the phone Harry gave him and it would answer back. Sometimes the lady trapped in the phone would send him to the internet to provide information or other times to a little telly inside the phone too.

Which led him to his current predicament.

Harry sometimes used the internet to talk to Granger. There was a little camera on the computer. At least that’s what Harry said but hadn’t really ever showed him much more than that. Could he use it to talk to Harry?

Draco poked the little camera several times, trying to get it to work. He typed in the password that Harry wrote down hoping that would help. When he was met with a photo of the two of them, he tried not to be endeared. Potter would be such a sentimental sap.

“How does this work?” Draco muttered to himself as he stared at the little icons. He couldn’t remember the steps Harry had taken to talk to Granger. Would it even work if he had remembered? He didn’t want to talk to Granger, he wanted to talk to Harry.

“Internet show me Harry.”

Nothing happened.

Draco huffed. It had been a long shot anyway. Reluctantly, Draco pulled out his phone and hit the button that brought out the lady inside. “How do I call on the internet?”

She repeated his question to him as if that was going to help somehow before he was brought to a list of options.

“Skype.” Draco wrinkled his nose. That didn’t sound familiar. He set his phone down and opened the same icon on the computer that his phone had brought him to and typed in Skype.

The first thing that popped up was a little telly. Harry called them videos, but Draco liked that they were little tellies and didn’t care what Harry said. The little telly was boring and showed him too many steps to follow. What drew his attention were more little tellies that he could select from. Some were about Skype too, but others were about all kinds of things.

Make-up. Music. Food. Books. Sports.

There were too many to choose from. So he watched several different little tellies. A lot of them were boring and he ended up either leaving for another one or skipping to the good stuff. Some people weren’t the actors that they thought they were. Honestly, where was the charisma? The charm? He could do it much better.

Draco paused, thumb over the mouse as he thought about it.

He could do it better than most of the people in the little tellies. He had the charisma that they didn’t, he had the charm, the looks, the better smile. And his life was much more interesting than these people. Those with boring lives shouldn’t talk for an hour unless their aim was to put people to sleep. Oh, that was another thought. Were there little tellies to fall asleep? There were little tellies for everything. He rather liked the internet, even if it made no sense.

Draco watched a few more little tellies before he figured he knew enough to do it too. It wouldn’t let him make a little telly until he created an account, which he thought was kind of rude, but it was their rules. A lot of people didn’t use their real name, so he chose not to either. It took him longer than he wanted to find something that suited him.

Slytherin’s Heir.

Finding out that Harry and his idiot friends thought that he had been Slytherin’s Heir had been flattering. Oh, they hadn’t thought that, but they didn’t realize the kind of compliment it had been. What he wouldn’t have given to be Slytherin’s Heir. That kind of power and social status would have made him untouchable.

With his name chosen, it wanted a photo, but Draco didn’t have any photos of him on Harry’s computer. So he didn’t do anything, let the internet do a blank one. Draco’s foot tapped a few times as he realized his account was complete. Now all he had to do was make a little telly.

It took a few times to find the right succession of buttons to find the live option. He didn’t really understand what being live meant, but he did know that meant that he didn’t have to have a little telly already made, that he could create one right there.

“Is this on?” Draco asked, lips pursed as he poked the camera. “I’m not really sure if this is working. Honestly, I was trying to talk to Harry when I decided to make a little telly. Harry’s my boyfriend. Hi Harry.”

Draco waved at the camera with a small smile. He wished he could see Harry’s face.

“Harry’s actually mad at me right now. He’s an annoying prat who likes to think he’s right all the time.” Draco paused; one side of his face scrunched as the thought about what Harry’s reaction would be to his little telly.

“Maybe mad is an exaggeration,” Draco sighed, one hand pushing through his hair. He hadn’t slicked it back in a few days, too out of sorts to feel up to it. His hair fell into his eyes which was an annoying reminder of why he liked his hair slicked in the first place. “He’s more disappointed.”

Draco grimaced as he remembered the last time he had seen Harry.

“He loves me,” Draco whispered, hating that his cheeks were warm. “He says it all the time. At least he used to.”

A long-suffering sigh escaped as he slumped in the chair with wheels that Harry insisted on using even though Draco thought it was a safety concern.

“When I say all the time, I do mean all the time,” Draco grinned. “He didn’t hear that growing up at all and I think he says it so much because he’s trying to make up for lost time. I don’t mind. I like hearing it. Makes me melt a little bit to know that he loves me so much.”

Draco frowned, sitting up straighter.

“You better not tell him that though. That’s embarrassing.” He waved a finger at the camera in what he hoped was a threatening manner.

“I didn’t hear I love you growing up either. It was rare to hear my parents say anything even hinting at love. But the thing is, I’ve always known they loved me. I could see it in the things they did. When my father would show me a new spell or help me with my hand movements. My mother would bring home my favourite sweets whenever she went out. They would stay up later than was presentable with me and listen to the radio.”

The smile on his face was bittersweet. As much as he knew that his parents loved him, it would have been nice to hear it more than they did.

“I guess I picked up their habit,” Draco winced. “I tell Harry I love him… sometimes. I try to tell him more, but the words don’t come easy to me. My parents knew I loved them, and they certainly didn’t need me to say it. But I try to show Harry too!”

Draco’s hands had begun to move in the beginning but were now thrown in the air.

“I make sure whenever he’s on a case to keep his plants watered, even if the one Neville gave him has it out for me and tries to kill me. When he’s having a bad day I make sure his duvet smells like mint because I know he’s going to collapse on our bed and not move for longer than is healthy and for some reason mint is his favourite smell. I don’t really know how to cook that well but the lady in my phone helps me order from Harry’s favourite restaurant and I do that when he’s feeling sad and sometimes when he’s really happy too.”

Draco’s lips turned downward the longer he talked. It bothered him that Harry couldn’t see that he was loved.

“I’m not a people person but I willingly go with him on what he calls adventures around London. Adventure is accurate because wherever Harry goes, trouble follows. Last month we had to run from people with sticks on horses. Harry said they were the law, but I feel like if you were lawmen then you should dress better but that’s beside the point. Then there was this one time we got kicked out of a library. That was more my fault, but Harry was the one who didn’t tell me that the books didn’t talk or yell. Who wants to go to a library with silent books? That’s like going to a gallery where the paintings don’t talk. What’s the point?”

Muggles were weird, honestly. There were a lot of things they did that were smart, and he wished that Wizards would adopt too. But a large amount of what Muggles did was boring. They lived boring lives and he felt bad that they didn’t have Magic to spice it up.

“I try to show with actions how much he means to me, and I thought I was doing a good job at it, but I guess not.” His eyes closed as he remembered the hurt expression on Harrys’ face.

“He told me he wished I would tell him I loved him more. I told him there was no point. Which in hindsight, I’ll admit was a mistake. I don’t take it back, mind you. But I wish I had explained better before he left. I meant there was no point in saying it more if I could tell him through actions. Which I have been doing since I realized I loved him. I thought he knew. I thought he could see how much I love him.”

Draco swallowed around a lump in his throat. He wasn’t worried about their relationship, not really. Harry sometimes needed a few days to cool down when they argued. Only usually, it was anger that was the parting goodbye and not a heartbreaking sadness.

He looked back to the camera, hating that his eyes were wet.

“I love him, so much. I could talk about all the things he does for me that I love. Like the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel loved and whole. The way he holds my hand too tight, like he thinks I’ll pull away. As if I ever would. Or the way I feel like I’m high on liquid luck whenever we’re together. But those are selfish to point out. I don’t want to talk about me when I bring up what I love about him. That’s conceited.

“I love the way he throws a fist in the air when he gets an answer on the telly right. I love his stupid hair that has to be sentient at this point, never lying flat. I love the softness in his eyes when he’s happy, the way they shine so brightly. Almost as bright as his smile. I love how kind he is. I know I give him shit for that, which I should, but there’s a goodness to him that isn’t common anymore, and I love that. I love how much he cares about other people.

“I love how hard he works—puts every ounce of himself into whatever he’s working on no matter how big or small. I love how smart he is, even if he doesn’t see it himself. He thinks of the world in ways that others don’t—a genius to him that fascinates me. I love how much he loves. He loves with everything that he has. He loves people in general. Wants to see the best in them, has a faith that never wavers. His friends are his family, his family is his world and the love he has for all of them is another extension of himself that is everlasting.”

Draco blinked through the wetness as he sniffled.

“I’m honoured to be part of that love. To know that he could care about me a fraction of what he feels for others is overwhelming. I know he loves me; Merlin knows that I do. How could I not? He doesn’t just say it, he shows it. And I just wish that he knew how much I loved him too. I know I don’t say it enough, and I try, I do, but I had hoped that he could see it. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I didn’t show it enough, maybe I didn’t try harder. Maybe I should have done more.”

Draco wiped at his cheeks hating that he let his emotions get the best of him. Especially on his first little telly!

“What hurts the most is that I don’t know how else I could have showed him,” Draco laughed bitterly. “I really don’t. I give so much of myself to Harry, perhaps that’s not healthy, but it’s true. I love him so bloody much and I hate that he doesn’t see that, that he doesn’t know. How could I not love him? Harry, how could you not know that I love you?

“I love you…”

Draco took a deep breath, wishing it wasn’t as shaky as it was as he twirled in the chair. That had to be the reason Muggles had such dangerous chairs, so they could twirl.

“My first little telly wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Draco smiled wryly as he placed his chin on his palm. “I was supposed to charm you all with my good looks and witty personality. And what did I do? Cry over my relationship issues. Like anyone wants to see that. Maybe I’ll tell you the story of how Harry and I fell in love next time. Or maybe the first time we met. Something happier than my tears. Pansy always said I’m an ugly crier—the jealous bitch—so no sad topics next time, I promise.”

Draco leaned forward; lips pursed as he tried to figure out how to turn it off.

“I’m not sure anyone is going to see this. Maybe that’s for the best. I just know I look like a cross between Doxy droppings and Weasley on a good day. I hope you all are having a better day than I am. I’m going to go as soon as I shut this off.”

Draco frowned, clicking a few buttons before he gave up and shut down the whole computer. The simplest solutions were for the best. He spun in the chair one more time facing the rest of their flat, wishing not for the first time that Harry hadn’t taken his happiness when he left.

——

Watching his little telly back was a painful experience. His charm and charisma were there, but it didn’t look as polished as some of the other little tellies he had seen. He’d just have to keep trying.

Draco was about to start a new one when he noticed that there were a lot more numbers than there should have been at the bottom. It had been two days since he had made it, and he expected there to only be his replay.

Not the 819,543 that stared at him. And every passing minute the number grew by the tens of thousands.

Draco double checked that he was on his little telly and not someone else’s before he covered his mouth. Did that many people see him cry? Merlin, what did he do? While the thought was horrifying, what truly scared him was that there were comments.

There were comments.

Oh no.

Draco groaned, already blaming all of this on Harry. And the internet, the internet could take the blame too. With one eye closed, he scrolled down.

NamelessHope 1 day ago Anyone else find this endearing? He’s like an old grandma that doesn’t know how the internet works.

Sorrymum 5 hours ago He’s so cute. Why can’t you be single?

Michael the Sexual Taco 2 minutes ago His partner is trash. It’s so obvious he’s in love. How could Harry not see it?

Bleach 2 days ago First!!!

CubesAreTriangles 13 hours ago Go bottom go!

Potatoes for Life 7 hours ago Nooooo don’t cry! If you cry I’m going to cry

Draco squinted at the comments. Why were Muggles so fucking weird? And what did they mean bottom? Did people just assume things like that? He liked to fuck and be fucked, thank you very much.

Meaty Meat 10 minutes ago Y r u gay

Draco snorted. Okay, maybe Muggles were entertaining.

Casey J 1 day ago I can’t tell if you’re just ranting or want advise. If it’s the former, then ignore me. But maybe Harry does know you love him. I think it’s obvious that you do, so he must know that. Maybe he needs it said too.

Randy Rants 8 hours ago You need couples therapy not the internet

ParsleySnips 2 days ago I totally cried

Pearl’s Pearly Pearls 2 days ago I want to be loved like you love Harry.

SwiperNoSwiping 1 hour ago If you two don’t break up you should do another video with him.

Draco scowled. They weren’t going to break up. A touch of hesitancy filled him at the thought. It had been 6 days since he last saw Harry. Not their worst fight, and he would’ve tried to find Harry and talk to him if it had been completely silent. But Harry sent a Patronus every morning that nuzzled him awake. The Patronus didn’t speak a message but the love he could feel was a message all on its own.

Karla S 1 day ago Am I the only one who caught that he said spell? Is your father a devil worshiper?

Gigi’s my Daddy 2 days ago Little tellies. That’s so cute. That should be our fandom name when you blow up.

Gay4You 20 hours ago I’ve never been invested in someone else’s love life this much. If you and Harry don’t make up I’m going to riot.

Draco looked through several more comments before he pushed away from the computer. There were a few rude ones and a lot more supportive ones, but all of it made him nervous. He didn’t like that so many people knew about his feelings. It was his own fault for making the little telly, but he didn’t think anyone was going to see it!

Part of him was panicking. He could delete it, probably, if he asked the lady in his phone how. But did he want to? Draco bit his lip, unsure what to do. If he deleted it, all those people who saw it would still remember it, so he’d only be stopping new people from viewing it.

Before he could go over the pros and cons of either option, the front door slammed open, causing him to yelp and jump out of the chair.

Hands raised, Draco glared at Harry, who was staring at him intently, chest moving rapidly.

“What is wrong with you?” Draco sneered. “I nearly came out of my skin. If you’re trying to kill me, you almost succeeded. Merlin don’t do that a—”

Draco cut off when Harry marched toward him, eyes still intense. His mouth was still open, ready so say something, but nothing came out when warm hands cupped his cheeks.

“Draco, I’ve always known you loved me.”

Oh no.

He closed his eyes tightly. Harry watched his little telly. How? Why?

“Hey,” Harry whispered, thumbs moving in a gentle caress. “Look at me.”

Draco shook his head. He didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry.”

That had his eyes opening before they widened. “What?”

“We’re so different,” Harry began with a wry chuckle. “Everything about us is different. And for some reason I forgot that. I assumed that our love language was the same. But the beautiful thing about languages is how different they are. I expected yours to be the same as mine and I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Draco hated that his voice wavered.

“You’re right, I do say I love you a lot.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Draco hurried to explain. “I didn’t mean it to sound—”

“I know,” Harry shushed him, a thumb placed over his bottom lip. “I say it because I don’t want you to forget that I love you.”

Draco shook his head, wanting to tell Harry that he could never forget. How could he? But he didn’t want to interrupt.

“When I was little, I didn’t just want to be loved by my relatives, I wanted to love them too. But they hated me, and the feeling was mutual. I wanted to love someone just as much as I wanted to be loved. And I guess I say it so much as a reminder to never forget that. I love you, Draco and I can’t help but say it over and over again.”

“I know,” Draco parroted as he pressed a kiss to the thumb still over his lip. “I love that you say it so much. I don’t want you to stop. Lately, you’ve been saying it less.”

Harry’s eyes closed briefly. “I’m sorry. You don’t always say it back and that hurts. I thought you didn’t want me to say it. I thought—”

“No,” Draco shook his head again, this time more violently. “Please no. I’m sorry. I want to say it more, and I promise I’ll try but please don’t stop saying it if I can’t.”

Harry shushed him again and if he wasn’t so close to crying, he’d probably have hexed Harry for treating him like a scared child.

“You do show me that you love me,” Harry said, eyes soft and full of the love that Draco wasn’t sure he could live without. “All the time and that’s your love language. You show me through actions, and I needed the reminder.”

“I want to give you the love you deserve,” Draco whispered, blinking rapidly, willing himself not to cry. “You deserve to hear it just as much as you give it. And I’m sorry I don’t do that.”

“I don’t need it,” Harry argued, eyes narrowed. “And don’t you dare presume to know what I deserve. I get to decide that, and I’ve already given you my heart. So it’s up to you to keep it safe.”

Draco inhaled sharply. Harry’s love was special. “I want to love you vocally too. I want to love you the way you love me.”

“The way you love me is exactly what I need.”

Draco’s nose wrinkled. “I feel like you’re settling.”

“Not your decision.”

“Harry—”

“Draco,” Harry began, flicking him in the forehead. “If you want to say it more, I won’t object. I’m just telling you that I don’t need it like I thought I did. We’re in love and it doesn’t matter how different we show it. The love is still there.”

“Okay,” Draco sniffled, wiping his nose on Harry’s shoulder when he was pulled into a strong embrace. After days of no contact, he basked in their combined warmth. A feeling he had missed more than he thought possible.

Draco turned his head, mouth near Harry’s ear as he whispered,

“I love you.”

If Harry held on tighter, and Draco felt a wetness on his neck, well that was no one else’s business.

~Fin

———

Short Extra

“Hi little tellies!” Draco waved at their new camera, one that Harry now manned, taking in Draco’s new hobby in stride.

“I had planned an intro like all the rest of them do but that’s so boring. Over here we’re better than everyone else. So I said fuck it and tossed it away. Let’s just get to the good stuff. You’ll never guess what Harry did yesterday. It was so embarrassing.”

“Do you have to embarrass me to so many people?”

Draco grinned, nose scrunching at Harry’s glare. He knew his followers wanted to see Harry, but Harry didn’t want to be in the little tellies like that. Plus, Draco kind of liked that it was just him.

“What do you mean?” Draco blinked, adopting an innocent expression that had stopped working on Dobby when he was three. “I’m just telling my friends.”

“Yeah,” Harry snorted, eyes on the subscriber count that was rapidly increasing. “All 3 million of them.”

It still blew his mind that so many people wanted to hear him talk about his life. He had known from the beginning that he could pull it off. Had always known he had more charm than everyone else on the internet. His little tellies were clearly superior.

And to think it all stemmed from his love of Harry.

-----

This is a story for @rieraclaelin who I know has been having issues reading fic lately so please don't feel like you have to read this at all. I just wanted there to be a gift for you whenever you do feel like readings stories. I adore you!

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Youtuber Draco

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

2K notes · View notes

genshin-impact-writings · 3 years

Note

Hi!! May I have a tall cold brew with peppermint syrup and strawberry drizzle for Diluc please?

Hey there! Thank you so much for your request and your patience. I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go with this one and I also had to deal with writer's block while working on this, so I really hope it still came out somewhat okay. Anyways, here's your drink: a tall cold brew with peppermint syrup and some strawberry drizzle on top! <3

Prompts: angst, character A taking care of character B when they’re sick, “You’re so warm.” + “You’re shivering. Here, take my jacket.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Fever – Diluc x gn!reader

Dragonspine was beautiful at this time of the day. The snow glistened in the golden light of the rising sun and the sky was painted in the most gorgeous shades of orange, red and light blue as the stars and the moon slowly faded until, in a couple of hours, the approaching night would bring them out again.

You craned our neck, using your hand to shield your eyes from the sunlight. In the distance, you could see the silhouette of Mondstadt’s cathedral, its stony façade almost glowing in the sunrise. It was a breathtaking sight, and for a few moments, you just stood there and gazed at the town you had grown to love so much that you couldn’t imagine living somewhere else.

The only thing you’d probably never get used to was that damn cold on Dragonspine. Your breath was pluming in the frosty air, and your fingertips already started to feel numb, although you had picked the warmest gloves you owned when you got dressed for your mission.

It wasn’t unusual that the Knights sent someone to Dragonspine to collect their Chief Alchemist’s newest research date, so you came here quite often and knew what expected you but today was the first time that none of the other knights accompanied you. They were all busy with other commissions and while Jean had asked you to postpone your trip, you had insisted to go today. The data was important; the local alchemists needed them as soon as possible, and you really weren’t known for being unreliable. The only problem you had encountered was that no one was allowed to go to Dragonspine alone. The mountain was too dangerous and unpredictable to explore it on one’s own, so Jean had told you that she’d only allow you to go if you found someone to come with you.

With a barely noticeable smile you glanced at the man by your side, his flaming red hair even brighter against the pale, snowy background. It was rare that Diluc agreed to officially help the Knights with their matters but you knew that he could hardly deny you anything – which was probably the only reason why he was here with you now. Maybe he also didn’t want you to go to Dragonspine completely alone but in the end, you didn’t care much about his reasons. All that mattered was that you could collect Albedo’s data without further delays.

“Ready?”

Diluc gazed back at you. “Yes. Let’s get this done.”

In silence, the two of you made your way uphill. You pulled your scarf up higher to keep the lower half of your face warm but against the harsh, cold wind that steadily grew stronger, the fabric didn’t help much. A few minutes on this damn mountain and you were already starting to shiver. No wonder that most people avoided Dragonspine like the plague.

You hunched your shoulders as another gust of freezing cold wind hit you. With a deep sigh, you said, “I don’t understand why Albedo couldn’t have picked a warmer place for his research. I mean, yeah, the landscape is really pretty and I bet there are a lot of things to discover up here but it’s so freaking cold. I really don’t know how he hasn’t frozen to death yet.”

“Don’t ask me,” Diluc replied, watching you from the corner of his eye. It was obvious that you were cold, not just from the way you tried to adjust your scarf to cover more of your face. Your whole posture told him that the cold gave you a hard time today – a lot more than it did usually.

With a frown, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,” he said and took off his coat in one swift movement, handing it to you without any hesitation. “You’re shivering,” he explained when you gave him a questioning look. “Here, take my jacket. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You stared at his coat. “Are you sure?”

Diluc shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” A faint smile flashed over his face as you raised your eyebrows and gave him another skeptical look. “Just take it, okay?”

“Thank you,” you mumbled while you slipped on his coat over your own jacket, indulging in his comforting scent that surrounded you immediately and the warmth of the soft fabric. You reached out for his hand, both to thank him once again and to drag him along. “We should hurry to get to Albedo’s base camp. It’s too cold to wander around without a coat – even for you.”

Exactly four days later, you knew that it had been a mistake to accept Diluc’s offer. His forehead was covered in cold sweat and he was shivering, despite the pile of blankets you had put over his body to keep him warm. Incoherent mumbles escaped his slightly parted, chapped lips as he tossed and turned in his sleep, suffering from yet another fever dream. It pained you to see him like this, very well aware that it was your fault that he was sick. If you hadn’t taken his jacket, he wouldn’t be in this condition right now.

Barbara had checked on him a couple of hours ago, warning you that it might get worse before he was going to feel better. “His fever is pretty high,” she had said, her hand resting on his forehead. “I can send you some herbs that will help to lower his temperature but other than that, all we can do is wait. But please don’t worry, (Y/N), he will be fine.”

You knew that she was right. After all, Barbara knew exactly what she was talking about when it came to injuries and illnesses, and the medical tea you had prepared following her instructions would surely help him, but still, you couldn’t stop worrying about him. His skin was even paler than usual and even the color of his hair seemed to be duller than normally. He looked absolutely terrible and he probably felt even worse.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled and leaned forward to brush a strand of hair out of his face. Beneath your fingertips, his skin felt burning hot and freezing cold at the same time, and you reached out for the damp cloth on the nightstand to gently dab away the sweat on his forehead. “This is all my fault.”

He mumbled something in his sleep again, a painful reminder that he’d contradict you if he were awake, insisting that the only reason for his condition was his own stupidity. And of course, you’d disagree until the conversation resulted in playful bickering.

But he wasn’t awake. And all you could think of was how much it sucked that you could do nothing to make him feel better.

A couple of hours later, Diluc finally woke up from his confusing dreams. He still felt like absolute trash, you could see it in his eyes, but somehow, he managed to crack a smile when he spotted you curled up in an armchair right next to the bed.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and raspy, but it still made a wave of relief wash over you to hear him talk. “Hey yourself,” you replied and closed the book you had been reading half-heartedly over the past few hours before leaning in to put your hand on his forehead. His temperature was still too high but at least, he was awake now. “You’re so warm… How are you feeling?”

With a quiet groan, Diluc closed his eyes again. “Horrible.”

“Do you want some tea? Or a glass of water?”

“No… I think I just want to go back to sleep.”

“Oh. Okay.” Somehow, a part of you had hoped that he would magically feel better as soon as he woke up but of course that had been nothing more than wishful thinking. A cold as severe as his couldn’t be cured by a few hours of restless sleep, so it was completely normal that his body screamed for more resting time. “Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head.

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll stay.”

“Come here,” he mumbled, shifting a bit to make some room for you in the bed. “Please. I don’t want to be alone. Unless,” a coughing fit interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “unless you’re afraid to pick up a cold.”

With an indignant huff, you climbed into the bed, draping your arm over the blankets in an attempt to hug him before craning your neck to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Get some rest,” you told him softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please consider reblogging. I'd really appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos, @childe-support, @rim0na,@the-gayest-sky-kid

#diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #diluc x gn!reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #diluc ragnvindr imagine

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themaribatpit · 3 years

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Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing. I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy. She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy. Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place. The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity. For Lila, this simply would not stand.

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes. The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone. “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped. She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face. “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut. Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying. “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears. Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand. “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears. It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup. It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations. She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden. On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned. Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night. It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear. She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover. Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought. Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision. Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers. Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all. The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare. She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.” Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons. Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy. Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open. This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending. Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear. It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one. Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city. This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention. She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power. Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims. She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand. Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky. She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down. “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness. She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor. It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it. She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer. Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist. A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her. In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on. If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands. Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask. She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room. She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face. From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.

#maribat lila salt #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #maribat class salt

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amiedala · 3 years

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SOMETHING MORE (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 26: Prove It

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!)

WARNINGS: violence

SUMMARY: “Nova!” Din cries again, and you squint and try to push yourself up and out of the dirt, but you’re wounded and you’re so damn tired. You mean to just take a beat and then hurl yourself up off the ground again, but you get stormed with another hit, and you realize they’ve hit you with tranquilizers again, and it just seems so much easier to surrender. Whoever they’re working for, whoever’s after you, they can take this win as long as you get to fall into this sleep on the way there. Hazily, feeling deprived of your oxygen, you think about Din, and you weakly look up for him, where he’s fighting off the rest of the battalion that wants to spill both of your blood all over Takodana’s ground.

“Run,” you manage, weakly, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the beskar like a laser beam.

His face, still helmeted, still covered, is in front of yours, crystallized, just for a second, but it’s enough. “There’s not a fucking chance,” he says, voice convicted through the modulator, “that I am ever leaving you again.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HELLO MY LOVES AND HAPPY SOMETHING MORE SATURDAY!!! this chapter is...so much. such a wild ride. such a rollercoaster. it's 10k+ words, and almost all of it was written in a single sitting because it just would not stop coming out. my fellow happiness and fluff lovers, we are finally (close) to the other side! with that, i'll stop spoiling the chapter until you can read ;) more notes, as always, at the end!!!

You kiss him. For what feels like hours, you kiss him. He doesn’t push you more than is tongue parting your lips, the hungry way that he sinks up against you, apologetic and raw. Din knows that you’re in control. You know you’re in control. Everything has been flipped on its head, and you hate it, you hate it, you don’t want to wield power over anyone, let alone the man you love, even if he has broken your heart clean through, so when you pull away, he doesn’t follow you.

“I don’t forgive you,” you whisper again, through the silence. He sighs, but not with exasperation.

“I know.”

“I don’t know if I ever will.”

Din’s quiet. You open your eyes, just a flutter of your eyelashes, really, and when you look at him, he’s not staring at you. He’s on his knees, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, like he’s asking for repentance. Or praying. Or begging, but he’s so silent in his grief it startles you. “If you don’t,” he whispers, finally, “I understand. But please don’t—”

“Leave you?” you interrupt. It’s not nearly as bitter as you thought it would be. “Don’t worry,” you continue, quieter, “that’s not my move.”

He winces. “Nova—”

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” you say, earnestly, “really, I’m not, but y—you need to know how much it hurt me. You broke my trust. You gave me family again, a real family, and then you just took it away. I know you thought you were doing the right thing. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But it doesn’t matter, because you did.”

“I know,” Din manages, his eyes opening slowly and catching on yours. “I know, and I think I’ll be sorry about that forever. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, I mean that.”

Because he’s so genuine about it, so honest, it makes you want to get mad and challenge him. But there’s a peace to his penance, his atonement, and it just makes you stare.

“Even if I leave you somewhere,” you say, “you’ll follow me. Right?”

His gaze is complicated. “Yes,” he says, finally. “I’m not letting you get hurt again because of a mistake I made.”

“Din,” you start, and he holds up a gloved hand. You’re so tired. Sotired. You don’t want to fight anymore. It’s exhausting. Trying to grieve and stay angry and constantly be on the run—it’s killing you. Your shoulders ache. The scar carved in your stomach hurts late at night, and even though it’s probably phantom pain—hurting because everywhere else hurts too—that added jaggedness makes it almost unbearable. So you just let it go with the air out of your mouth, just staring at him.

“I’m tied to you,” he repeats.

“You keep saying that,” you enunciate. “What do you mean?”

“Mandalorians choose their families,” Din mutters, “I chose you. That doesn’t go away—that feeling, that tie—even in death.”

“Does it go away when you leave your fiancé in the same place that you started your life with her?” you ask, but it’s tiredly, with no daggers.

Din stares at you. There’s something hidden behind his eyes, something hungry and forlorn and deep and yours. “Not for me,” he says finally, and his gaze lingers on you for just a little too long.

But before anything, you’re saved by the bell again.

“Rebel girl,” a familiar voice floats through the comm, “come in whenever you’re ready.”

You breathe, for what feels like the first time in years, a sigh of relief. “Wedge,” you manage, slinging the helmet back on to talk to him semi-privately. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice—”

“I’ve been trying for days,” he says, and you sink back into the pilot’s seat. “Your frequency was jammed up.”

“Ran into a few Empire ships,” you say, glancing at Din, who’s standing there, half in the shadows, trying to make sense of who you’re talking to. “I got sick of them trying to radio me. Plus, I didn’t want to call you first and send any more your way. How’s the base?”

“She’s shot,” Wedge admits, voice tinny, presumably from turning away to inspect the wreckage of the structure on Hoth, “but she’s standing. No fatalities. They were more interested in you than they were with us, so they just volleyed over a bunch of blasts and then went into warp. No one was seriously hurt,” Wedge repeats, “so let out that breath you’re holding.”

You do. “I’m so glad you’re all okay,” you breathe. “Um, Wedge?” You pause, looking over at Din for a fraction of a second before you barrel on, “did—did you hear from Luke again at all?”

Wedge sighs. “No,” he says quietly. “I’m afraid, honestly. I know Luke can hold his own against a lot worse than Moff Gideon, but—”

“He’s alive, and fine,” you cut him off, all in one breath. “I didn’t see him, uh, but my fiancé did.” At this, Din turns toward you. Just slightly, almost imperceptible, but you notice. “He took my kid. Grogu. Luke took him off to teach him, I think, protect him.”

“Thank the Maker,” Wedge says. It sounds sarcastic, coming out of his mouth, but you know he’s being serious. “And you? Were you able to find your family?”

Din can’t hear the other end of your conversation, not after you put the helmet back on. “Yes,” you breathe, finally, “yeah, I did.”

“I hope you know,” Wedge says, sighing, and there’s that fatherly edge in his voice again, “that if you’re ever in a tight spot, or a bad situation, or, you know, facing up against the dregs of the Empire, I want you to call me. We’re here to help you. And I owe you a favor.”

“Well,” you say, chancing another look over at Din, who is pretending to be preoccupied with the space outside, but he keeps sneaking glances over at you, “I could cash that favor in now, if you’re willing. Do you know where the safest place in the galaxy is for a Mandalorian who can kill troopers without lifting a finger and a Force-sensitive Rebel pilot that has ticked off the rest of the surviving Empire? We need to lay low for a few days. Figure out what the next plan is.”

“Well,” Wedge sighs again, “honestly, the safest place would be with Luke.”

Your heart clenches, staring up at Din. That’s not an option, not after he had to let Grogu go, not after what he just went through. This part of his life—Grogu’s—needs to be his. “That’s not an option,” you repeat out loud, finally, closing your eyes. “Not now, at least. I’d go back to Dantooine, but I really don’t want anyone dangerous following me into the shelter I stayed at.”

“Coruscant,” he says, and you shake your head vehemently, even though he can’t see it. “Joke. Not a good one, sorry. I didn’t mean that. Does it need to be in the Outer Rim?”

“No,” you say, honestly. “Preferably, yes, but if it means no Empire thugs on our backs, we’ll go pretty much anywhere.”

Wedge is quiet. For a minute, you think that the connection just completely cut out and you’re listening to nothing, and then he breathes again. “I can give you the names of some planets. A lot of them are deserted or at least desolate enough. The others are much busier. I don’t think any planet like Dantooine, with cities in places and completely untouched in others, is safe right now. You need to either blend in completely or stay out of sight at all. At least for a few weeks, you need to stay quiet and lay low.”

“I thought,” you manage, your voice lower, “that with Gideon preoccupied, the threats would stop. Not stop, maybe—that seems foolish to assume when it comes to me—but at least that people would slow down. Stop chasing me.”

Wedge sighs. “You’re good,” he says, simply. “Too good. And I mean that as a compliment, as in you won’t kill people unless it’s in self-defense, and I also mean it in the way you run instead of attacking. You play the offensive when everyone’s expecting you not to. You’re kind and you’re giving and even if you didn’t have a target on your back, they’d be looking to exploit you. From Luke’s message…” he trails off and sighs again, and a shadow obscures your vision, and you look up at Din, silently standing over you, “it seems like there’s more danger than we bargained for. You just might be at the center of it.”

You close your eyes, rubbing them until you see stars. You’re so tired. Again, all of the exhaustion in the galaxy seems to be hanging even heavier on your shoulders, and you have to press down on the knots with your thumbs to get them to budge even a little bit. “I’m tired,” you admit, out loud. Din bends down, and you kick your chair to spin a bit away from him. “But don’t you—or the rest of the Alliance—dare to step in now. I can handle Gideon’s men, and I can handle the other troopers. You all need to stay safe and strategize. I’ll call you from whatever planet we end up on next, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

“You,” Wedge says, “are wise beyond your years, rebel girl.”

You sigh, finally looking up at Din. His helmet’s still off, and it’s nearly impossible for you to tear your eyes away from his heartbreakingly handsome face. “I know. Tell me if Luke says anything, and stay safe.”

“The planets,” Wedge interjects softly. You had completely forgotten you had asked for them at all. Your breath catches in your throat. “Malastare, maybe. Naator, which is largely a peaceful planet—”

“I’ve been there,” you interrupt, your heart aching for Naator’s serenity, the hope and love it gave you. It feels like a lifetime ago. “Anywhere else?”

“Wasskah,” Wedge answers, finally. “It’s completely remote these days. One of our pilots flew out there a few weeks ago, and reported no signs of life except for animals. If you want deserted, there’s your answer. I know you aren’t itching to return to Coruscant, especially considering how easy it was to be spotted the last time you were back there, but somewhere busy and metropolitan might be the place to go.”

Your heart sinks. None of these sound like very viable options, due to Din’s past and your own emotional connections to them, but you don’t want to tell Wedge that he’s been unhelpful. Saying a quick gratitude seems like the nicest way to exit the conversation, and it’s just starting to bubble up on your tongue when Wedge speaks again.

“I’ve heard,” he says, and his voice sounds distant. Not like he’s moved away from the microphone of the comm, but like he’s lost somewhere in a memory, “about Takodana. From Luke, and just through the grapevine. It’s supposed to be a refuge, almost, and there’s people from all over. Most seem to be runaways or like they’re trying to start a new life, so I don’t think anyone will pay you excessive mind if you don’t look too long at them either.”

You breathe a massive sigh of relief. “Thank you, Wedge. That’s perfect. We’ll head there. Thank you, seriously,” you repeat, looking up at Din. He’s turned away from you, staring at the space around you. You swallow. “Stay safe, please. And don’t you dare rush into battle without me.”

Wedge’s laugh crackles around the comm. “Take it easy, rebel girl. I mean it.” And then he’s gone.

You turn back, slightly, looking at Din. “Wedge—my friend—he suggested we head to Takodana. It’s supposed to be a safe place for refugees, and no one will look twice at us.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Hey,” you say, a little louder, the toe of your boot knocking into the beskar. “We have a safe place to go.”

“I’m going to put you in danger,” Din says, lowly, “you’re right about that, too.”

You sigh. “I’m the danger. Remember? I’m the one the Empire dregs are after, not you. You’re gonna follow me anyway,” you say, but it comes out softer around the edges than you intended, “might as well save on fuel and travel in Kicker.”

Din cocks his head. It looks silly without his helmet, and even more endearing. Your heart clenches. “Kicker?”

You smile, something small and in the shape of a half-moon. “Kicker, yeah, my ship. She doesn’t like to do anything unless you pound on the dashboard, especially with a swift kick. She’s a rebel, like me.”

Din stares at you, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I—how did you get her?”

You stare back. “You left me, I went to Hoth, Wedge gave me the ship. I earned her, really, with maintenance and rewiring and anything else they needed, and she was too much of a junker for anyone to seriously use her. But I made her fly, and they let me keep her.”

Din looks across the expanse of the cockpit. It’s not like the Crest was. There isn’t as much liminal space in the windows, the starship skinnier and longer rather than deeper and wider, and you’ve filled this place up with so much warmth. You picked up a string of lights back on one of the planets you passed through, and you’ve hung them up. The blankets are a mixture of the ones you picked up from the base on Hoth, old clothes you’ve nested, and the one that Din wrapped up for you on Yavin. His eyes catch on that one especially, and you try not to internalize it. “You hate being a mechanic,” he says, his voice quiet.

Despite everything, you laugh. “True,” you offer, looking over the complicated dashboard. “I’d choose to do pretty much anything over trying to fix something. But it turns out, I’m actually kind of good at it. Who knew?”

A small smile spreads across his face. “I—fuck, Nova, I missed you.”

It’s out so fast that you don’t know how to react. You want to make him work for it, but again, you’re so tired. You blink, and then admit it. “I missed you, too.”

The moment lingers. It’s not interrupted like it has been before, no one immediately showing up on your trail. It lasts for a few seconds too long, and you’re afraid you might just give in if this lasts for much longer, and then Kicker, the strange savior she is, starts bleeping.

“Damn it,” you sigh, poring over the dashboard. “What’s wrong now? You have fuel, we haven’t had to use the blasters recently, we’re not nearing any ships—” you get caught off guard when she screams even louder, a long, high-pitched shriek, and then, like it’s simply time, she stops. You stare, eyebrows furrowed down the middle. “Okay, Kick,” you mutter, “fair play.”

Din looks at you. “Do we need to…do anything?”

You stare out at the open expanse of space. It doesn’t seem crushing anymore, volatile, hungry, You’ve forgotten how it felt to have someone out here in the blinking blackness with you, how less lonely it makes you feel. You swallow. “No,” you manage, faintly. “She’ll scream like that sometimes. If something major happens, we’ll know.”

Din seems to be satisfied with that answer. He makes his way back to the copilot’s chair, relegated to your usual spot. The role reversal doesn’t feel strange anymore—you in charge of the starship, of your destination, of your relationship—but the complete flip-flopping of it makes a tiny smile break across your face. You don’t know exactly where Takodana is, but you know how to get close, so you punch in the coordinates for the Mid Rim and slowly slide Kicker into warp. It’s quiet out here, just the slight shaking of the ship’s faulty stabilizer, and the way that space sounds when you’re hurtling through it, and you fold yourself up on your chair, perching. This has always been your favorite part—well, second favorite, after getting out of a blaster fight up here completely unscathed—just focusing on the space and the way it bends and pushes you through it, like it’s meant for you. Like you belong here.

Din doesn’t say anything. You can feel his gaze on the back of your head, where half of your hair is hanging out of your braid and dancing around your face. His want to push it behind your ears is kinetic, something you can sense all the way back here.

“What?” you ask finally, your voice low and quiet.

“Nothing,” Din murmurs back. You don’t dare to turn around. It’s agonizing, but you don’t. You just sit there, eyes focused on the weird blueness of warp, trying to predict what Din’s going to say before he speaks again, because, at this point, you know that regardless of him being a man of few words, he has more to speak. “I just—it’s nothing.”

And somehow, you know. “You miss him.” Your voice is small. Din sighs, in the acknowledging way that he does, and you know he’s talking about Grogu. “I do too,” you say, voice still quiet. “A lot. So much. Did he…did he seem happy? Going off with Luke? Like it’s what he wanted?”

Din’s quiet. You exhale through your nose, biting down on your lip to steel yourself, and then you swivel around in the pilot’s chair. He’s staring at you, a slight hunch in his shoulders. He looks smaller, more unsure. Even fully dressed in his beskar, save for his helmet, he looks defeated. You try not to let your eyes roam, but you can’t help yourself. He’s hunched over, like he’s wounded. He is. You are. It’s exhausting, feeling this way, being so close and still so alienated. You want to forgive him, especially when he looks like this, but there’s some small, bleeding part of you that can’t let the feeling he gave when he left you—heartbreak, betrayal—go. It lives on, hungry, even when every other cell in your body is screaming at you to forgive him, to go over, to press your lips to his and let it roam.

But you don’t. You can’t. It feels immovable, so you just sit, aching, in the silence.

“I think,” Din says, finally, his words slow, like he’s choosing them very carefully, “that he needed to go. I don’t know if he wanted to; he was miserable after we—I—left you on Dantooine, and when he got stolen, the look in his eyes when I saved him just…” Din fades out, quiets. “He wanted to be home. With me. With you. But when Luke showed up, something shifted. I can’t talk to the kid—Grogu—like you can. But I know him, and I know he knew this was what he was waiting for.”

You swallow, around tears. “Did—did Luke have anyone else with him?”

“His droid,” Din offers, jaw clenching. “And he mentioned something in passing about Grogu not being the only kid he was training, but that was it.”

“Wedge,” you start, staring at your cuticles, “think that with Luke is the only safe place. Especially me, since I’m Force sensitive , and it seems like every menacing person in this galaxy is after me. I don’t know why. Did—when you spoke to Gideon, did he say why they wanted Grogu?”

Din shakes his head. “Cara and I,” he says, finally, “we—we had to go through some unsavory means to find out where Gideon even was. One of their scientists says they needed something from the kid, something in his blood. I—microbes, or something? It started with an M. I stopped listening when he told me they wanted to harvest something from Grogu, because I just wanted to shoot and drop him on the spot.”

“Midichlorians,” you say, voice distant. “That’s what they wanted to harvest.”

Din startles. “That’s it,” he says, and your eyes focus on the hairs that make up his mustache, how groomed they are, how much stock he took in trying to make himself presentable before he found you on Tatooine, without his helmet, without anything. “How do you know that?”

“I…don’t know,” you answer finally, your tone still faraway. “I just do, somehow, that he has them. Anyone with the Force has them, I—I guess. I’m not sure if it’s something that can be harvested, but if that’s what they were after, that’s why Gideon didn’t care if he took me or Grogu.”

Din sighs, low and heavy. “Nova, I—”

“Why?” you interrupt, fingers flailing around your neck, closing around nothing.

“Why what?”

“Why did they want the midichlorians?” you say instead. “Were they for Gideon? Were they for—for someone else?”

Din squints, as if he’s trying to remember. “I don’t think they were for Gideon,” he says, voice low, strange, strained. “But I—I have no idea. The dark troopers they have now, they’re indestructible. It’s insane. One alone nearly pulverized me. Until the Jedi—Luke—showed up, we were all lost. Something is coming, Nova,” he interrupts himself, “something big and dark. I didn’t realize it before, when Gideon was just after us, but I see it now. They’re gearing up for something big.”

“Yeah,” you say, sliding your thumbnail between your teeth, “yeah, I came to that same conclusion when I was on Dantooine.”

Din’s gaze finds his gloved hands, and then, without warning, he starts yanking them off. “I need you to know—” he starts, and then Kicker throws you out of warp. It takes a few seconds for you to find your bearings, to turn yourself right side up, and when you’ve gotten the ship under control, Din’s mouth is closed, and your heart is hammering with the possibility of what it could have been, but you’re too afraid to ask. You throw your focus entirely into calibrating the dashboard, making sure that Takodana is set in the ship’s nav system. For a while, that’s all you do, until you slowly breach the atmosphere, turning your radio on in case you have to signify that you’re arriving, a refugee, as a friendly person and not an enemy. No calls come in, but you coast slowly, glancing around at the ground. There’s a forest, but when you pull out of it, you see a giant lake and a town that looks like it’s functional as more of a city, everything slapped together with random materials, rooms and whole buildings built on the backs of others. It gives you that same eclectic feeling that Dantooine did, and the same sense of community that Naator gave you. You swallow, roughly, past the lump in your throat, and head to the other side for a landing strip, anywhere you can park Kicker out of the way.

Once you’re docked, in a landing bay just as strangely populated as Takodana’s main metropolitan area, you swaddle yourself up in a cloak and the lightweight trousers you got back planets ago, a light tank top over the top, blaster strapped to your thigh. Everything you’re dressed in is simple, inconspicuous. You tuck your hair back behind your ears before you pull the large swath of fabric up over your head, trying to look as unrecognizable as possible. Your fresher is small and doesn’t have the best mirror, so you just try your best to look as normal and unnoticeable as you can.

Din, on the other hand, looks even more conspicuous without his helmet on. You look at him, watching carefully, as he climbs down the ladder and heads towards the gangplank.

“Wait,” you say, softly, grabbing his helmet off the floor. “Wear this, Din. Please.”

It’s the first time you haven’t said his name in anger, so he whips back around and stares at you.

“I can’t,” he repeats, voice troubled. “I—I took it off,”

“On Tatooine,” you remind him, emphasizing the planet’s name, “to a nearly empty cantina in the dark.”

“Not just on Tatooine,” Din says darkly. “When we were trying to save Grogu, we went undercover to Morak, trying to track down Gideon’s whereabouts. I was accompanied by…someone I used to work with. I had to take the helmet off to log into the system, because it required a face scan. Mayfeld—the accomplice—saw it, and so did everyone else in the mess hall before it ended in the shootout.”

“Did—Mayfeld—did he say he was going to blast your face anywhere?”

Din shakes his head. “No. He told me he’d forget all about it.”

“And I’m assuming,” you continue, shifting your weight back on your other leg, so you can put more emphasis on holding the helmet in the air, “that everyone else who saw you died in the shootout. Right? So that’s what, five people, maybe?”

“No,” Din says again. “I—I had to take it off for the kid, to show him my face. Before I left him, I wanted to give him a way to recognize me in the future. So the Jedi saw it, and Cara, and Bo-Katan, and Koska, and Fennec, and Gideon—”

“Bo-Katan,” you say evenly, “is the ruler of Mandalore, and she shows her face all the time.”

“About that—”

“Listen,” you cut in, sighing, wriggling the helmet at him to catch his eyes, “I know your Way is different. But that wasn’t the first time you broke the Creed. You broke it for me first,” you remind him, raising your eyebrow. “You broke it for me first, and you put it back on after. You can wear it again, Din,” you tack on softly, your gaze traveling over his face like you’re hungry, before you can control yourself.

He just looks at you, and then, right when you’re working up a big speech, he takes it out of your hands and slides it over his head. You feel him hesitate, but the second the helmet hisses back into place, you see his stature change, see the way he carries himself, assured and strong. You nod, pulling your makeshift hood up over your own head, and when the first blast of pleasant air hits you, you breathe a sigh of relief.

In the last month—since you were abandoned by your family and chased across the galaxy by anyone willing to hurt you—you haven’t let your guard drop, not once. You were reckless, and a little careless, but you got so frightened of being found, of being discovered, that you’ve been on the run, subconsciously and consciously. But now, on this planet, with Din back by your side, you feel like you can exhale. Not much—your breath still catches horribly in your chest—but enough to not constantly have your thumb on your blaster, your head whipping around to check behind you.

It feels like it did before. In this one small way, if nothing else.

You walk. Din walks. Neither of you say very much to each other, just trying to move as quickly as you can to the town center, casting glances sideways at the people you pass to ensure they aren’t calling after you, or mentally putting the bounty back on your head. Almost no one even acknowledges you, and the people that do give you small smiles before they tuck their heads back on, clearly as anxious to stay unnoticed as you are.

Finally, you arrive on the steps of a giant building that you assume is the cantina. When you walk through the heavy doors, it is indeed in part a cantina, but it also looks like a restaurant, a safe haven, a store, like all of these things are halved and then stitched together. The band is playing a lively tune—more jazzy and jangly than the ones in the cantina on Tatooine—and people are constantly roaming. You find a small table tucked off to the side, and lead Din over there. It’s secluded, and you shift so he can have his back to the bench, his gaze to the room, like always. You don’t even realize you’ve done it until he relaxes, just slightly, and you hide your smile in the palm of your hand over your mouth, gazing out at the people.

There are more aliens than there are humans, species from all over the galaxy, some you’ve never seen before, others you’ve never even heard of. They’re captivating, loud, entertaining. You feel like you could spend weeks in this exact spot and not get bored. Eventually, a server droid comes over and you order a small dish of porridge and the biggest pitcher of water they offer. Din declines anything, but you make him order water, too, and then the droid is gone, and then it’s just the two of you.

“I should find us shelter,” Din says lowly, “a place to stay.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I just figured we’d stay in Kicker,” you say, happily accepting the water the droid brings. “The small fee that the docking station has would be less than any housing we find here, and I have plenty of blankets.”

Din stares at you. Even under the helmet, you can tell. “I have credits,” he whispers, quiet enough that you have to strain to understand what he’s saying underneath the modulator. “We can—stay at a hotel, or something, an inn—”

You blink at him. “One bed or two?”

He balks at you, cocking his head. “Well—”

“I’m messing with you,” you say, grin spreading across your face before you can stop yourself. “No shared bed until I forgive you.”

“Ah,” Din manages, and you can tell you’ve ruffled him. You let the smile linger on your face as he leans back, away from the closeness. “So there’s hope for forgiveness?”

“I never said that,” you answer, diplomatically, looking back over at the crowd, but you have to force your tongue to stop curling into the word yes.

Days pass. A handful, three, or five, but you’re not sure. Din still sleeps downstairs, and you stay snuggled up in your nest of blankets, telling yourself why you can’t go down there, why you’re holding your resolve. Conversation comes easier. Sometimes, you go out walking by your own, and from the best of your ability, you can’t catch him tracking you. Takodana is beautiful—green and lush, and the lake stretches on forever. You go in up to your thighs one night, the water cold but refreshing, and if you close your eyes to a squint, you can pretend you’re on Yavin.

The cantina stays loud and busy, and the people here are kind. Most keep to themselves, but the mingling conversations at meals gives you that social interaction that being on base did, and even though you’re not actively being a Rebel right now, you can feel the energy. Din talks to you, you talk to Din. You find out that the owner of the cantina—town hall, center, whatever it is—is tiny. She’s named Maz, and she sees through everyone’s bullshit. You hear men three times her size try to lie about their gambling or their spending, and she calls them out every time. Her eyes—small but hugely magnified by her glasses—are knowing, wise. Older than you think she is, but you can’t exactly figure out what age she might be. She’s only looked at you a few times, but when she does, you feel her gaze see through some veil you didn’t even realize was there.

One night, you take your food to go sit by the lake. Din follows, at a distance, but you sigh and beckon him to sit with you. There’s a large boulder, and he sits there, facing you, to quickly scarf down his food before anyone can come by, even though it seems like he’s more lenient with who can see him these days. You sit there with him, quiet but strangely comfortable, even after everything. When the sun slips over the horizon, you stand, suggesting a walk through the woods close to where the treeline is. Din doesn’t follow you, so you go alone, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk away. You try not to think of it as metaphorical.

It’s peaceful, serene. On Takodana, the sun takes a while to set. The planet isn’t huge, but it’s not tiny, either, and you know there’s likely more to it than what you’re seeing, especially since Wedge recommended it. The greenery is everywhere, like it was on Kashyyyk, but it’s much less forest than it is a light cover of trees, and you can see through the gaps of the leaves towards other small towns clustered around the major metropolis. It’s not desolate, and it’s not the city build like the one on Coruscant. You walk, your legs aching a little under the rocks and hills, but you’re not in a hurry to really get anywhere, and for once, you’re not running from something. There’s a darker grove of trees up on top of this small mound, so you crack your neck and breathe through your mouth and start to climb it.

Almost immediately, you feel it. It’s the same exact sense of fear and foreboding that encircled you, white and freezing, on Dagobah. That same kind of dark, sacred energy, the feeling of something horrible happening here. Maybe in the past, maybe in the future—you can’t tell. It’s hazy and slick and heavy, and you want to get down the hill, to run back towards where the light is still coasting over the horizon, to find Din, but you can’t. It’s like your legs are frozen in place, like everything you are right now is simply frozen. You try to yell, and it comes out horrible and strangled, and before you can stop it, you’re hurled straight into a vision.

It’s dark. So dark, and then there’s the ignition of a lightsaber blade. You try to pull yourself away from it, unnoticed, but then the tall, dark figure in a mask much more foreboding then Din’s lunges at you. Evil, you think, skittering backwards, watching as the saber lights red and dangerous, flame coming out both sides at the hilt. You hate it. You hate him. It’s a weird feeling, something dangerous and scary in the pit of your stomach, because you don’t know who it is. Who this is. And it’s not a hatred or a fear you feel now, either—it’s something you know you’ll feel later. Which means whatever—whoever—this is, they’re not here yet.

But it’s still terrifying. His voice is loud and booming, full with venom. He’s menacing and scary and big, and he lunges at you again, and when you roll away, the vision changes. It’s not the tall, dark figure anymore—it’s Grogu. It’s Grogu with Luke, and it’s so vivid you can reach out and almost touch him, and then another child moves forward. His ears protrude out from under a mop of black, dark hair, and even though he’s alongside Grogu, giggling and laughing with Luke, there’s something off about his energy. You can feel it. Grogu can feel it too, you can just tell, and you’d be willing to bet the few credits you have that Luke, alongside the two of you, notices it too.

The vision changes again. It’s you, and Din, and you’re in a building. It’s not anywhere you’ve ever been, you don’t think, but it seems strikingly familiar. All the terror, the white and hot kind of panic you felt a second ago, is gone. There’s something fearful in the pit of your stomach, still, but you look over at him, and something quiets. “Are you sure?” he asks, and it’s low, and his voice doesn’t seem like it’s coming from him, like there’s something in the way of you being able to really see him, and you feel yourself nodding. It feels like something in you is unhinging, releasing, being wiped clean. Then, out of nowhere, you’re being hurtled out of the vision, and you roll off to the side, legs kicking wildly until you find solid ground, like everything has been knocked clean out of you, the air, your breath, everything. You scraped your ankle on one of the rocks, but you’re otherwise unscathed, so you take a few huge breaths to replace the rest of the lost air in your lungs, trying to get back to baseline.

You still feel it, how dangerous and awful the energy is, even after being hauled out of your vision. You shiver, just a little, and then slowly start making your way back to camp, trying to figure if you should check the landing bay for Kicker first before you make your way all the way back to the lake, but you hear shouting—loud and violent enough to somehow know it isn’t from the overspill of people in the canina—and your fight-or-flight kicks in, and you’re running. This time, though, you’re running towards the fight instead of away from it, and when you get close enough, you spot the troopers.

They’re wearing that slightly altered armor, like the ones back on Ryloth, and that alone makes your blood seep cold through your veins. This time, you need to strategize. That tranquilizing dart was no joke, and if you’re not careful, you have no doubts that they’ll try to knock you out again. Usually, stormtroopers are terrible shots—these ones, though, these seem ruthless and calculated, and you’re good at evading, and they got you anyway.

You crouch behind a few buildings, eyes chained to where the battle is. You’re tired. Of everything—arguing with Din, keeping people an arm’s length away, trying to make sure that you stay alive at all seconds because there’s a permanent target on your back—but especially from this. Fighting. You close your eyes for a second, trying to let everything run out of you backwards, the molecules that make up your body rising and rushing. You aren’t intending for this to simply be the Force talking, but you feel it swirl up inside you, tangible and real even in its fluidity. In the flash right before you feel fortified enough to go out and start fighting, you see something. Yavin. It’s Yavin. Not the Yavin you just visited a few months back, not the Yavin that greeted you with its greenness and desolation when you were there, but the Yavin it was. Simultaneously, you see yourself flying in the X-wings, hopping across the stone plates in between the grassy knolls, hurtling underwater on the sandy beach, opening your eyes to the current, and, right before it ends, you see your parents’ faces.

And you are every bit their daughter, so you do what you have to, and when your eyes open to the scene again, you’re fighting.

The troopers are clad in white, but their armor seems to be more streamlined. You take down the first few with your mind instead of a weapon, targeting the ones on the edges so that anyone in the thick of it isn’t aware of the ones that are dropping like flies. In and out, you dart, trying to be quick and efficient, jumping from shadow to shadow to stay hidden. You’re not the best at this part, the precision it takes to be undetected and ruthless, but the makeshift hood you have draped over the upper half of your body helps, all the fabric you’re wearing loosely fitted and easy to contort yourself in. You take breathers as you pull troopers to the ground, kicking up a spray of the dusty, red earth to obscure the people you’re dropping, and then disappearing back into the night until the battle rises up against you again.

It’s not like doing barrel rolls in Kicker, and it’s not like faking out TIE fighters in space, but you’re getting the hang of it. You’re faster and more intentional with every one you pull down with the Force, reserving stunner blasts only for when you know you’re about to be spotted.

And then you see him. In the middle of the skirmish, as always, is the glint of Mandalorian beskar. You sigh, allowing yourself to rest for a split second, just watching as Din takes down troopers with his bullets and blasts, no mercy, no mourning. He’s outnumbered twenty to one, and it’s like he has a fully-fledged army in that suit of armor. You’d bet, under the helmet, he’s not even breaking a sweat. And somehow, despite it all, despite everything, you smile. This isn’t the man that left you on Dantooine. This isn’t the man who doesn’t know how to apologize for breaking your heart because his own is just as fractured. This is the man who rescued you on Nevarro, the man who put gunshots into every thug who’s touched you without your consent, the man who calls you the purest thing in the galaxy right before dropping anyone who tries to corrupt you, the man who broke every single one of his rules for you.

So you do what you do best. You make momentary peace with all your hurt, all your grudges, and you run. You run into the flames, into the intensity, making your presence known. And instead of running away, you stand in the heart of the circle, and you challenge the troopers to come at you instead.

Din’s yelling at you to get back, the troopers are attacking you with double the force they were expelling on him, but everything in your mind is vivid and clear. You take down a handful of them with a nod of your head, the glint of intent in your eyes. Finally, the troopers on the very edges of the battle are starting to wake up, so you dive under the legs of others and shoot your blaster to stun. The girl whose hand shakes when holding a gun is long gone. You’re intentioned, measured. You’re barely even exerting any energy, because they’re doing it all for you. All you need to do is evade, to tuck and roll, and you’re so good at playing the offensive that when you have the high ground, no one is expecting it.

“Nova,” Din calls, and you somersault towards him so the two of you can battle back-to-back with the more ferocious troopers that are still standing. You tuck and roll and lose your hood, but you don’t need to be incognito anymore. Your name means to shine. So you do.

For a second—a fleeting, glittering second—the two of you have dropped an entire regiment. You look over your shoulder, just for a moment, and you can tell you meet Din’s brown eyes underneath his visor, and something in you quiets. There’s no uneven ground right now, there’s no tallies. It’s just the two of you doing what you’ve always done best—protecting each other in the heat of the moment, communicating through knowledge alone.

And then the second ship comes in. The second regiment, the relief, they’re more hardened and even more bloodthirsty. You feel your weight in your knees when you stagger forward, thumbing your blaster in one hand, holding out your palm of your other one, dominant and resolute. It’s harder, this fight, because the twenty-five new soldiers are even more ruthless. You get shot. Once, and then twice, and they’re both flesh wounds, but they’re on both of your arms, so your dexterity is broken, beaten down. You fall to the dust, once, then twice.

“Nova!” Din cries again, and you squint and try to push yourself up and out of the dirt, but you’re wounded and you’re so damn tired. You mean to just take a beat and then hurl yourself up off the ground again, but you get stormed with another hit, and you realize they’ve hit you with tranquilizers again, and it just seems so much easier to surrender. Whoever they’re working for, whoever’s after you, they can take this win as long as you get to fall into this sleep on the way there. Hazily, feeling deprived of your oxygen, you think about Din, and you weakly look up for him, where he’s fighting off the rest of the battalion that wants to spill both of your blood all over Takodana’s ground.

“Run,” you manage, weakly, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the beskar like a laser beam.

You want to protest, want him to get out of there safely, want to tell him that okay, yeah, you’re going back on your word, but you forgive him, because if you’re going to be dragged away by some sort of evil entity even worse than Moff Gideon, you want your big bad bounty hunter boyfriend to come after you and slaughter anyone who lays a finger on you, but you can’t get your mouth to move.

Din’s helmeted face bobs down again, and you open your eyes to the visor. You’re horizontal, and so is he, and then he’s pressing his face against your forehead, just like he always did, in absence of his mouth on yours, of an apology, of a saving grace.

“I—” he starts, and then he’s up and fighting again, and you can’t tell if you blacked out or not, but your body is getting kicked and prodded, and you feel like you’re being lifted into the air, but you can’t tell, everything is swimming, unfamiliar hands all over you, and one trooper’s hand curls around your neck, the other one tangled in your braid, forcing your head backwards. You’re thrown back down on the ground, knees slamming into the dust, and when they try to get you to look upward, you train your vision on the stars instead.

This isn’t how you thought it was end. You register all the weapons in the vicinity slowly be trained on you and Din, who’s also held hostage by the other troopers, and when you focus your eyes past him, you see the open gateway to the hills everywhere, and you realize, somehow, when everyone’s attention was on you, Din let everyone in the town escape. You’d be willing to bet not a single one of them were harmed, because his big body of beskar intervened and obliterated every single menace.

And you love him. Maker, you love him, and the thought alone makes something tangible and horrible bubble up behind your eyes. You’re so angry at him, still so exhausted, still so hurt, but you’re either about to have your throat slit by stormtroopers or be forcibly taken to someone who wants to break you limb from limb and drain your blood for your Force sensitivity, so you need to say it. You need to tell Din you love him, even if you don’t forgive him yet.

“It would be merciful to kill you right here,” the trooper in front of you croons. Your vision is still blurry from the tranquilizer and the grip he has on your throat, but you set your jaw and put as much menace in your eyes as you possibly can. “But you’ve made this very hard on us, and I want to drag it out until our master gets to have his way with you.”

He says your real name, the one on the bounty puck, and you grin. “What?” he growls, and you spit blood out of your mouth, look up at the full moon, and suddenly, you’re fortified. Your eyes close, and this time, you don’t see your parents. You don’t see your life flashing in front of you. You see Luke Skywalker taking down the dark troopers. You see yourself holding off Moff Gideon with your own two hands.

And then you see Din with the Darksaber.

It’s a catalyst. And, still, everything suddenly clicks into place. Din wasn’t holding a higher frequency vibroblade way back on Ryloth when he found you. His helmet was off, showing his face to everyone. That’s what he meant when you first landed, here, why he started to tell you about Bo-Katan.

“Before you torture me and send me off to whoever your boss is,” you say, strained, every atom in your body summoning the Darksaber to fly out of Din’s restrained hand and into yours, “you should really make the effort to get my name right.”

“Stun her,” the trooper in front of you spits at the one with his hand tangled in your braid, and you take the moment to square your shoulders, flex your wrist.

“My name,” you whisper, “is Novalise Djarin. And I’m not scared of you, or the darkness you bring.”

The trooper in front of you grabs your throat again, dragging you upwards. Din is yelling in the background, and you can see him struggling against the six men that are trying to contain him, but you close your eyes and call for the saber, silently and clearly.

And the second you’re upright, it does. It flies through the air, metal and wicked, and when it lands in your hand, you ignite the blade. It goes through your cuffs first, then into the arm of the man who’s holding your hair. It’s sudden and violent, and you’re unrestrained as you drop him. The one in front of you is still holding your throat, and you want to drive the blade right into his heart, but you stomp on his foot and send him howling to the ground as you move the saber around, slicing at limbs and fingers and shins, the dangerous flicker of the blade powerful and right in your hands. You don’t kill a single one of them, even though you want to, because Wedge was right. You’re too good to end someone’s life when you can make them regret laying a finger on you for the rest of your days. And because Din was right, too—you are the purest thing in the galaxy. And all the men with their blades and their threats and their fists fight with the darkness that you’ve never let touch you.

Once all of the other troopers are wounded on the ground, you drag the one who threaten you, who closed his hand around your throat, up against the building. You pin him there with the Force alone, and you look in his eyes as he’s choking for the air you’re depriving him of. “You tell your boss,” you say, evenly, calmly, even though the exhaustion is pulling you down, even though the corners of your eyes are still blurred and deprived of oxygen, “that the next time he wants me, he can come after me his own damn self.”

With that, you release him. You stride over to Din, pulling him off the ground with one hand, heart hammering, breath heavy and thick in your throat, your lungs, and you observe the fifty men the two of you dropped.

“Also,” you call out, just to anyone who’s listening, because you’ve earned your right to leave them with something shiny and intentional after they tried to drown out your spark, “my name means light. Think of that the next time when you try to come for me after dark.” You drag Din to his feet, and you’re not even sure if any of the troopers are conscious after you sliced through sinew and bone, but you’re pretty damn proud of yourself. In the window the cantina, you see Maz Kenata, who didn’t flee alongside the rest of her town. Her eyes, magnified by the ginormous inspecting glasses she wears, are trained on you. You smile, saluting her, and she returns it. It feels huge, something cosmic, but she turns away in the silence as you’re trying to catch your breath.

Din slips out of your grasp. You’re still observing the scene, and you pour out the rest of your water canteen on the small fires that are still burning in the wind as you feel him head towards the ground, but he’s not passing out. He falls to his knees, the same position he was in when he pulled his helmet off back on Yavin, and before you realize what’s happening, his fingers are under the rim of the helmet, and he pulls it clean off.

Your breath—just finally replenished—drops away again.

“What are you doing—” you start, and then he yanks off his gloves again, just like he did back on Kicker, and every word that was on the tip of your tongue evaporates into the thin air.

“Let me prove it,” Din says, low and urgent.

You stare at him. “Prove what?”

“Prove that I’ll never leave you again,” he says, and you blink, trying to search for any kind of insincerity in his voice, his face, his words. There isn’t any. “Novalise, I love you.”

You blink at him, stunned into silence.

“I love you,” Din interrupts, his voice low and clear. “I’m not just saying that. I love you. I’m in love with you. I—Nova, you told me to wait to tell you until you saved me, but you’ve saved me every single day. Even when I didn’t deserve it. I should have told you ages ago. I love you.”

You’re sure no one’s listening, so you say his real name. “Din—”

“I love you,” he repeats, his grip tightening on yours, and you fall to your knees in front of him, grinning despite it all, and you press your forehead into his. “I love you, and I’m never leaving you again.”

“I still don’t forgive you,” you say, “but I want you to prove it. All of it. And I have conditions.”

Din nods. “Anything.”

“First—” you start, but then a trooper screams and rises up with a giant gun in his hand, and Din pulls his helmet back on, lunging in front of you. The beskar absorbs the blow, but he’s out of every weapon, so you spin forward, pulling the Darksaber out of your belt and running towards the trooper, slicing his blaster clean in half. When you make it back to Din, he’s on his feet, and the two of you run towards Kicker as the rest of the battalion starts waking up, injured, wounded, hurt, but still determined. You push her into warp as quick as you can, racking your brain for where the hell some semblance of safety is on this galaxy, but you just go and go and go until you’re far enough away from Takodana, far enough away from the people that just tried—and nearly succeeded—to kill you. You sit in the chair, exhausted until Din drags you onto the floor as gently as he can, with alcohol and bacta patches at the ready, and you let him clean and bandage you up, both of you wordless, both of you thinking everything. Your heart aches in your chest, with that cosmic connection, with something more, with everything you’ve missed the last months. You’re breathing again, even with your lungs this depleted.

“Novay’lain,” Din says, breaking through the quiet, “It’s Mando’a.”

You startle, so used to your shared silence, looking over at him. You can’t get over seeing his face in the light, the contours of it, the bump in his nose, his glorious cheeks. Everything about him—it looks exactly like how you remembered him, how you missed him, the man you love. “What?” Your voice comes out cracked, half silent.

“You were right,” Din whispers, voice hollow. “You told the truth back there. The word, unconjugated, means to shine.”

You swallow. “Why didn’t you—?”

“I didn’t know,” Din interrupts, and you swing your whole body around to face him, “I only know fragments of the language, Nova, enough to recognize the speech.”

You stare at him, messy hair hanging in your eyes. Everything around you is blurry and unfocused. All you can see is him, his gorgeous face, the lines written all over it. You don’t have it in you to be mad anymore. You haven’t had it in you since when he first left. All you want to do is hold him, to rush back into his arms and forgive him. It hurts. It still aches, pulses somewhere down deep and brutal, knowing he proposed to you, he showed his face to you, and then he left you. And you know it wasn’t what he wanted, that it tore him apart to do it, but you don’t forget that kind of pain, and it’s still such a beacon inside you. “What does Novalise mean?” you ask, voice quiet, echoing his question back on the Crest, back before he showed you the place he used to call home.

“To radiate,” Din breathes, and you cock your head at him, slowly moving through the momentum to press yourself up against the wall he’s leaned on, enough to reach out and touch him if you wanted to, “to shine in silence.” It’s a mirror image to where you sat together back on the Crest, but this time it’s different. It’s yours. You have all the power here, and all you can do is stare.

“I was right?”

He looks right at you, those dazzling brown eyes, and you feel your heart strike you straight through. “You were always right. About everything.”

“Din—”

“I can’t give you anything,” he interrupts. “I can’t—I’ve shown my face to people, I’ve lost the kid, the Crest, you.” His face looks so much more sheltered here than it was when he showed up maskless on Tatooine, unsure and turbulent with being exposed to the light. “You tried to warn me about it, all of it, and I didn’t listen. And—I thought I’d felt loss before,” Din whispers, and you try your best to not let the tears collecting in the corners of your eyes fall down your face, “but when I lost you and I lost the baby in one massive, ridiculous fuckup, that was worse. Than anything. I mean it, Nova, whatever your conditions are for me to prove that I’ll never leave you again, I’ll abide by them. I’ll do anything for you.”

You swallow, trying to close the gap between you two, but he lifts up a gloved hand, palm flat against your chest. You feel the absence of where your mother’s necklace used to be, and you close your eyes against his resistance.

“I don’t deserve you,” he repeats, guttural. There’s no light behind his eyes. “I don’t deserve you, I don’t—”

“It’s not about deserving,” you whisper, ignoring the way his hands fall dead and flat you. “I lied. I—it’s not about being right, and it’s not about deserving.” He shakes his head at against you. “When did you know?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed into a ridge in the middle of your forehead, “when did you know when you loved me?”

“When you told me your name,” Din says, voice still so fucked and hollowed out.

“My name is Mando’a, Din,” you say, the timbre of your voice wavering. “My name is Mando’a, and your name means noise, and we make each other quiet. I knew it the second I met you, I felt it. There’s no one else. It’s you and me.”

“Novalise,” he starts, and when you try to protest, you have no choice but to talk over him.

“It’s not about deserving,” you say, voice stronger, “it’s about belonging. I belong to you. I know you. Whatever bad you’ve done, whatever mistakes I’ve made, we’ve already been punished for them. I still don’t forgive you, but I’ll let you spend the rest of our lives making it up to me.”

“Nova—”

You get up on your knees, chancing out your hands long enough to poise them in the air around his face. Din makes eye contact with you, and you move forward into touching his face. His eyes close.

“Keep them closed,” you whisper, barely loud enough to be heard, and he nods, just once. You kiss him, sure this time. And with Din’s lips on yours, with forgiveness the next thing on your mind, you’re energized. All the exhaustion, all the hurt, it’s all slipping away as you kiss the man you love, the man that loves you. It’s like everything led you back here.

as always, reply here or send me a message to be added to the taglist!!!

AAAAAAAAAHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!! trying to keep Din and Nova apart these past few chapters was such a huge feat, and attempting to do justice to both of their emotions, feelings, and heartbreaks was so difficult to do when all i wanted was for them to kiss and make up!!!! ultimately, though, i think we've earned the reunion that comes around this chapter, and i'm so excited to share it with all of you!!! <3 we are indeed slowly nearing the end of SM, but i promise, the sequel will be coming almost immediately after! i have this last arc planned, so i'm pretty sure we'll at least have two or three more full chapters, but whenever the last one comes, i will let you know! thank you all so much for everything, for loving my story, for coming with me on this journey!!

CHAPTER 27 WILL BE UP AT 7:30 PM EST SATURDAY, JUNE 26TH!!!

xoxo, amelie

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

Text

About YZY leaving YMJ/JFM with her kids Post-WWX Arrival

Dear Dee, feel free to delete or ignore this or post it, whatever floats your boat. This just stuck in my head after those posts and I had to blurt it all to someone. Thanks for taking the time to read my word vomit.

So I had to do this instead of an ask because it got long and I wasn't sure how many asks it'd need or how short I could cut it down without losing parts of the argument. And then other things came up as I was writing and, well. Well..... >_>;;;;

But you know, after that post/ask you had about YZY fics saying 'Fuck U' to YMJ/JFM & leaving both with her kids, I had a sarcastic 'yeah right' attitude about it. Mainly due to a lot of negation emotions to such an abusive (and delusional) bitch, partly due to how she wouldn't do that since it doesn't seem to be something her sort of character would consider either because she'd think of it as 'losing' (losing what, IDK, it's why I consider her type of person crazy) or she legit wouldn't think about such a viable action.

But then later, in the shower, I seriously went 'Wait, she can't fucking do that' and it wouldn't be about how MXTX uses her as a part of the narrative but entirely about the/their culture in the novel; the actions that have and would be taken in response; and her entire toxic personality as well.

1) We already know that the sects and the cultivation world in general is sexist, elitist and so Capital T 'Traditional' to the point that it's starting to petrify and any deviancy from this is an exception rather than the norm. YZY might be a madame of a great sect (for what that's worth considering how shit of a madame she's been and the titles she's chosen for herself) but she's still a woman even with her high rank and the things she's personally accomplished.

Even if she was in her rights to leave a 'bad' marriage, she'd be the one who'd get scolded more instead of JFM by her natal family, her former husband's family and by their entire society at large even if she had a few singular supporters. Because That's Not How Things Are Done in their society and I do believe that such a thing was rare even when it was accepted method by the upper echelons. Especially since it would have to be done by more than YZY simply deciding that She Wants Out and just- goes and Gets Out. With no serious allegations that would allow her to divorce or separate from YMJ/JFM without the input from her family, JFM's family and, I think, possibly some measure of compensation as well. And no, having or bringing in a 'bastard child' is not a serious enough offence for such a humongous decision. I think something more along the lines of treason or crimes against multiple, high-ranking parties would be more along the lines. Maybe.

And even if she does this, she'd be considered 'Used Goods' (such a terrible comment) and there'd be no other good/proper marriage prospects for a divorced woman with children let alone a woman like YZY with her entire abrasive personality and attitude put off even easy-going JFM.

(If she'd been widowed then it'd be more forgiven but I consider that a Real Bad End since, IMO, it would lead to the sudden and inevitable decline of YMJ either via mass exodus of disciples and/or residents of LP; being merged with another sect due to it's unstable leadership; or create an internal political war 'cause I bet you anything that the YMJ Elders/relatives (if they have any) Would Not Want YZY in charge of YMJ when she's already proven herself such a shit betrothed let alone madame.)

2) Speaking of families, while YMJ/JFM/LP as a whole might be glad to see YZY's back, I don't think her natal sect, MSY, will be glad to see her come storming back after all the effort they put into getting that particular marriage alliance with YMJ. And if she brings her children with her? Oh man, oh boy- mother or not, that could be considered as kidnapping or line theft (is that a thing?) especially if YZY is also seriously considering divorce proceedings and raising them as Yu and not Jiang. That could give leave to, for anyone more unforgiving and maybe JFM if he's pushed enough, disown both JYL and JWY from the Jiangs through no fault of their own (though I'm sure YZY would make it so as well as blame JFM for her own decisions and mistakes).

Therefore, any inheritance or benefits they might gain for being legitimised children of a great sect are forfeited. JYL will likely lose that betrothal with JZX because JGS will drop it like a hot potato and JWY won't be a sect heir because YZY literally decided to remove that by deciding to raise JWY as a Yu, no matter their blood relation to JFM. They leave him, they leave YMJ and everything attached with it. Which is if YMJ/JFM doesn't demand MSY to give back their heir/ess and to punish YZY for her actions. Or send all three of them back for the appropriate reactions/decisions.

Their society would demand no less in reaction because, to them, it would seem like YZY had gone mad and JFM would look weak (or weaker) and imply that YMJ is vulnerable and exploitable if JFM doesn't do something in response to her actions. That's not even getting into what the other smaller sects may try to do in an attempt to curry favour with YMJ or what LLJ or QSW would try in order to destroy or diminish YMJ. And whether JFM chooses to demand his children back or not, it may not change the fact that this may give him reason enough to choose a nephew or niece to be the new sect heir especially if, even after getting rid of YZY's poisonous influence, JWY grows up to be his mother's child more than his father's or even his own person.

Either way, such a thing would bring great backlash on YZY, and MSY as well as the collateral. No one would want to give face to her or her children because it would bring up some very uncomfortable questions and scenarios to the other sects- specifically, what would happen if the female members of their clans/sets decided to follow the footsteps of YZY and leave with their children and heirs. Especially if they use it as an excuse to leave for their own comfort and whims and not some legitimate wrongs and dangers. That would create some more restrictions on women thanks to YZY

3) And lastly, if any one of those idiot YZY stans think that she'd ever give up the status of being a madame of a great sect they'd be as crazy or crazier than her. YZY is all about status and power and face. Specifically, her status, power and face and how people in her reach reflect her or 'insult' her. She is a selfish, terrible, abusive and toxic person and can only see people in regards to how they would benefit her and the elevation of her and in no other way. Especially her family. They cannot be their own person, they can only be an extension of her and gods forbid they go against her.

We can see this in how she treats the people she supposedly loves. JFM? Arguments day in, day out along with accusations and slander of cheating, having one(1) supposed 'bastard' and being 'in love' with CSSR. Which all seems sus as hell. And that's when she's actually there and not out 'night hunting'. Even her 'training' seems to border on unhelpful rather then helpful if my vague recollections of juniors fainting from exhaustion can be relied upon (please call me out if they're not or find proof).

JYL? Berated by not being 'strong' but not helped at all to be 'strong'. It doesn't help that YZY seems to believe in the same standards strength in their society- that is, of martial masculine strength which does not and should not apply to JYL who has been said to be sickly. Which means h should have been learning a different way of cultivation/fighting anyway. If that was something she wanted and had been offered in the first place- which I doubt. That isn't even getting into her repeated generational trauma mess of a betrothal which was decided only by those 'sworn sisters', accepted by her as a way out of her terrible home life and puts her squarely within reach of JGS who we know to be a womaniser, rapist, predator and a possible ephebophile considering we don't know the exact age of his youngest 'conquest' or the age of MZY's mother when they met which could be anywhere from 14 to 21.

JWY? Gods, so much meta on him and his(non-) relationships with his parents that I don't think I can contribute more to it. It's been all said and done. Unless people want me to stir the pot by saying that, maybe, just maybe, YZY resents JWY as much as she 'loves' him.Either because he's her son and yet never manages to 'accomplish as much' as WWX or because he's a boy and therefore, more benefits and allowances than a girl/woman- more than anything that YZY ever got without either a fight or screaming at someone about. *shrug*

So, in conclusion to this sudden an unexpected essay that I wrote(I'm so sorry about that, I thought it would be shorter -.-;;;;), YZY leaving YMJ/JFM with her kids? Impossible. Not without some sort of personality transplant or a complete AU. She's too prideful, too bitter, too angry, too everything negative and little positive. She's a resentful product of the values and restraints of her society taken to the extreme negative with a willingness to inflict her pain on others to an abusive degree. But she's also too obsessed and reliant on those same values and restraints to keep up the image of her status. So her? Giving those up? You'd be more likely to see WRH as a doting grandfather than that.

---

Dee - All of this is true and yes YZY leaving YMJ is highly unlikely. While there will be consequences if she decides to leave, she does canonically lives separately from her husband. They seem to be in a situation where they are married but living separately, which was a common way to end a marriage (at least in spirit) back then. She essentially had all the perks of being Madam Jiang but fulfilled none of the responsibilities.

Afaik, her training the Jiang disciples is a donghua thing? I may be wrong but I recall she spent most of her time nighthunting.

As for taking her children along with her- that's completely impossible. At that point, children were the property of the father. She could leave but she would've never been allowed to take JC.

#submission

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fieryghxul · 4 years

Text

Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut – unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

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[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

▪ ▪ ▪

People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

▪ ▪ ▪

The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #sorry if this is a bit out of character #i try my best #thanks for reading

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

Writing prompt: How about a forbidden relationship AU for Xisang? Might include some character tweaking here and there, but somehow, Jin Guangyao's murder attempt fails and this causes the Nie Sect to essentially go to war with the Jins due to lack of evidence. The rest of the sects pick a side, except for the Lans, who are neutral as Xichen tries to desperately mediate the situation between his sworn brothers before this cold war escalates. To Nie Minjue, this makes him no better than actually siding with the Jins, and so, he cuts ties with the Lans as well.

He can't trust anyone outside of his own sect, he knows that now.

Cue an exasperated Nie Huaisang just trying to keep his brother from losing his mind even further while plotting to take down Jin Guangyao and also falling in love trying to manipulate a certain pretty Lan to help him in the process.

In truth, it was Lan Qiren that Nie Huaisang had been trying to contact. He'd been just as furious at Lan Xichen as his brother when Gusu Lan had announced they would would stay out of this conflict between Qinghe Nie and Lanling Jin.

Almostas furious.

It was hard to be as angry as Nie Mingjue, these days. A side effect of that failed murder attempt. His mind had never fully recovered from nearly falling into a Qi deviation and since that day Nie Mingjue was... different.

Nie Huaisang had figured that what had been caused by music might be solved by music, so he'd written to Lan Qiren. He'd been terrified of the man when he was young, but since the war they'd developed something Nie Huaisang might have been tempted to call friendship, if he'd been the sentimental type. They chatted at discussion conferences, they played weiqi when they had the chance, they wrote to each other more frequently than they did to others...

They usedto write.

Of course, Nie Mingjue had forbidden contacts with enemy sects now. And that meant almost the whole cultivation world these days, but especially Gusu Lan.

Still, Nie Huaisang had managed to send a secret message to the Cloud Recesses, begging Lan Qiren to come meet him at a certain place. He hadn't signed his letter but had dropped some hints as to his identity, and of course he hadn't been stupid enough to directly mention the other man's name either. There was always the chance of the letter being intercepted after all.

And it had been intercepted indeed.

Because when Nie Huaisang went to that meeting point he'd suggested, he found the wrong Lan waiting for him in that hard to find little clearing.

“Huaisang!” Lan Xichen exclaimed when he saw him at the edge of the clearing, before running toward Nie Huaisang and taking the younger man's hands in his own freezing ones. “I was almost sure it would be you, but I couldn't be certain... I'm so glad to be seeing you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Nie Huaisang retorted, too shocked to bother with manners. “You're... why are you here? Surely you don't think you're the person I want to see?”

Lan Xichen's smile, already so strained as to look desperate, fell. His grip on Nie Huaisang's hands loosened for a moment, before tightening to the point of near pain.

“But you wrote to me,” he said. “You said you needed help.”

“I do need help, but not from you.”

When Lan Xichen only looked more confused and hurt, Nie Huaisang scoffed.

“You had your chance to help, er-ge, and instead you told everyone that you had no idea who was telling the truth between da-ge and san-ge.”

Lan Xichen released Nie Huaisang's hands and took a step backward, quickly putting some much welcome distance between them.

“Did you make me come here for this?” he asked, sounding wounded. “I thought...” He paused, and sighed. “Of course you're angry. You have every right to be. But Huaisang, I'm not...”

Lan Xichen sighed again, and glanced around, as if fearing someone might here what he would say next. It was unlikely anyone else would be there. Nie Huaisang had found this deserted place while trying to catch a bird, and had figured out quickly that it was isolated from the human world. So unless Lan Xichen had been followed... and it was unlikely. Lan Xichen had his faults, but he wasn't easy to catch by surprise, not for these things anyway.

“Gusu Lan isn't like other sects,” Lan Xichen explained, lowering his voice. “A Lan sect leader is never a tyrant. Not anymore. I am a figurehead, with the elders making every important decision for the sect.”

“So what, you're saying you're not neutral after all?” Nie Huaisang scoffed.

Lan Xichen severely nodded.

“Jin Guangyao could play that song to perfection,” he said with a grimace. “He could not have made any mistakes.”

“Yes, well, he still...”

“I mean that it cannothave been an accident if he played the wrong song,” Lan Xichen said. “I taught him personally, I made him repeat it countless times, I made sure that he could have played it perfectly even without the score if needed, and he never missed a single note. Which I told the council of elders. They were... not happy to hear my opinion on that matter.”

Nie Huaisang blinked a few times. “But... but why not just tell people anyway? Who cares about some stupid old men, why not...”

“They have Wangji,” Lan Xichen said.

“He's on their side?”

“No. But he's... I cannot explain too much, I have sworn secrecy,” Lan Xichen sighed, clenching his fists. “All I will say is that Wangji has done a great wrong in the past, and while the council of elders have agreed to show mercy, they're now threatening to have him suffer the true punishment for his crime if I act rashly and throw our sect into another war. I cannot let my brother die.”

So you're choosing him over Mingjue, Nie Huaisang almost shouted, only to realise he'd do the same. There was no friend in the world he wouldn't sacrifice for the good of his brother. Already Jiang Cheng, once one of his favourite people, was dead to him for siding with the Jins.

“But you're still here,” Nie Huaisang said. “Why?”

“You wrote that you needed help,” Lan Xichen replied a little too softly, averting his eyes. “Of course I came.”

His cheeks were a little pink, and combined with the rest...

Oh.

Well, wasn't that interesting.

Nie Huaisang took this new information into account, added it to what he knew about the Lans in general, that Lan in particular, and wondered if he could use that to his advantage.

Probably.

A man would do for a lover what he might not do for a friend, and it looked as though Lan Xichen only needed a little push to rebel against his elders.

“You're right, I do need help,” Nie Huaisang admitted, controlling his voice to sound just a touch whinier, the way he always used to do before he was forced out of his preferred comedy by the threat of war. “Er-ge, I really don't know what to do,” he said, concocting a lie close enough to the truth that Lan Xichen could actually do something useful about Nie Mingjue's state, vague enough that even if Lan Xichen betrayed them nobody would know the true state of Qinghe Nie's leader. “I really need help! I'd been trying to reach your uncle, but since you're here, and... I don't know who else to turn to, and if you'reon our side... if I can't trust you, who can I trust, rigth?”

Lan Xichen, bless his sweet and gullible soul, eagerly nodded, and took Nie Huaisang's hands again as if to comfort him. It was almost too easy, and Nie Huaisang could see how Jin Guangyao had gotten so much out of Lan Xichen.

Nie Huaisang was almost sorry for Lan Xichen, who was about to have his feelings toyed with, but...

But nothing mattered except saving Nie Mingjue, and time was running out.

Surely Lan Xichen would understand putting one's brother's life above everything else, wouldn't he?

#xisang #mostly one sided at that point but still #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #might continue later #if I figure out how #forbidden romance au

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fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

Text

just for a day

summary: What’s a little acting between friends? If friends was even the right word.

word count: (idk yet man lol ) 3,373

request: Hello! I just wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! If I may, could I request an 11 x reader where the reader’s friends keep bugging them to get a boyfriend, but they say they already do and they have to ask the Doctor to be their “boyfriend” (kind of like with Clara at the beginning of Time Of The Doctor) and eventually leads to feelings being spilt? If not, that’s perfectly fine!

a/n: this got WAYYY too long and for that i am so sorry lmao. i’m writing and posting this on the same day so if there are many mistakes or it doesn’t make sense that’s on me. anyway, i hope you enjoy this fic!

gif credit: @pavel-chekovs

“You’re back!”

You’d expected screaming. You’d expected yelling, and a fair dose of pterodactyl-esque screeching from the students in your advisory class, but what you weren’t expecting was crying. And lots of it. Nearly every fresh-faced elementary student was in tears, some sobbing quietly and some full-on bawling as soon as you walked through the door.

It was nice, cute even, but honestly a little disconcerting.

“Hi, everyone,” you said, shutting the door carefully behind you. The sight of their crying faces immediately activated your Parent Mode. “Are you all okay?”

“Perfectly fine!” Marih chirped, president of the class and therefore a little more levelheaded than the rest, which earned her a handful of disagreeing sighs. “What? Guys, you look ridiculous crying,” she continued, as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her palms and gave you a toothy grin. “We’re just happy you’re here again.”

You smiled at her, and reached out to pat the top of her head. “That’s great and all, but it’s like you guys haven’t seen me in ages.”

A heavy silence fell over the whole class. You saw students shift in their seats and look down at the floor, suddenly very interested in their black school shoes. Even Jaden, the class’s resident troublemaker, didn’t say a word. Marih cringed, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and smoothed the front of her checkered uniform.

“How long have I been gone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Marih seemed to cringe away at the question. “I thought I was only travelling for a week!”

“Actually,” Marih said, stretching out the word, “you’ve been gone for three months?”

Your mouth fell open. You stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, before you dug into your pocket and fished out your phone – she was right, it had been exactly three months and a week since you’d left the school to go travelling.

You groaned. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

By travelling, you meant time travelling and by him you meant the Doctor. The madman in a box that you’d run off with. You had let him turn your life upside down in the best way possible since he dragged you into the TARDIS, with his stupidly gorgeous smile and eyes and – you were getting off topic. Now you were plotting the murder of the man that you would consider to be the most incredible thing that had ever happened to you.

“Hey, ma’am?” came a soft voice from the front of the room. Karyll, with her tied-back hair and glasses, looked up at you from her seat. “Why are you looking like you’re going to kill someone?”

“’Cause I am,” you said cheerily, shoving your phone back into your pocket. Oh, you were going to have words with him, and they would most definitely not be nice ones. “Have I missed anything big? Were you nice to my substitute?”

A collective wave of disagreement swept over the class, and you couldn’t help but let a smile slip onto your face. These were your babies after all, and if you’d really been gone for three months then they were sorely missing their Second Mom.

Maybe the tears weren’t that much of a surprise after all.

“Okay, good morning everyone! Now, if we’re still on schedule, and I really hope we are, we should be talking about integers…”

The late afternoon sun drifted through the curtains of your classroom, filling the room with an almost hazy glow as you sat with your best friends in a haphazard circle of desks. Your kids had all gone home already, and a little pile of flowers and chocolates sat neatly on your shelves, right beside your lesson plan folders.

Denise leaned forward to look at them, her curly hair falling over her face. She was the elementary students’ science teacher, and was so well-organized it was almost inhuman. She would have liked the planet where everything was arranged alphabetically, you thought.

“I’m jealous, my students never give me gifts,” she said as she leaned away. “Sis, where have you even been?”

“Long story,” you replied, and it was. You weren’t sure if you could fit everything you’d been through – travelling through time, going to planets lightyears away, and of course all of the near-death experiences – into a story that you could tell in under an hour, and you weren’t going to try.

“And you’ve been travelling? By yourself?” Julianne, an arts teacher, raised her eyebrows at you from behind her laptop. “God, that’s lonely. Oh – unless…” Her calm expression morphed into something truly evil in your line of work – mischievousness. “Unless you had someone with you.”

“I mean –” Oh no, this was going to be hard to get out of. “I mean, I wasn’t alone,” you said, hoping the smile on your face was enough to mask your utter fear. You knew exactly where Julianne was going and you hated it. “I was with someone.”

“Ooh,” Julianne said, her grin growing so sly it was sending shivers up your spine. “You’ve been gone three months, has anything happened between you and your travel buddy?”

Heat rushed to your face. If you were a cartoon character steam would be pouring from your ears. “Why would you say something like that?”

Julianne shrugged. “We’ve been telling you to get a boyfriend for so long. You said you’d be gone a week, and then you disappear for three months… that kinda says something, don’t you think, Denise?”

“Definitely.” Denise grinned, and you shot her a helpless look.

“We’re doing this because we love you,” Julianne sang. The light from her laptop was enough to make her look absolutely menacing. “So? Travel buddy? Or more than that?”

The Doctor wasn’t just a travel buddy, and he was so much more than that – but you hadn’t found the words for what he meant to you, at least not yet. Companion was enough for you and him, but even then, there was a weight to that word. And there was definitely a weight to your partnership, but you wouldn’t call it… dating.

Julianne simply waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you. You swallowed. You and the Doctor were a long story too, and Julianne wasn’t going to be happy with “maybe” for an answer.

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend!”

I want to crawl into a hole and die was your inner monologue, and your background music was Julianne and Denise’s raucous laughter. I want to crawl into a hole and never have to face the world ever again.

Smash cut to you, standing nervously in your bedroom, gripping your phone so tightly you were sure it was going to break. Your plans of killing the Doctor for dropping you off late would have to wait. The phone rung once, twice, and you chewed your lip. If he was in the Time Vortex, any version of him could answer the phone and you couldn’t deal with that on top of everything, not today at least –

“Hello?”

You heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of the Doctor, your Doctor’s voice. “Help?” you squeaked out.

“Help?” the Doctor repeated. There was a blaring noise, and then the sound of electricity crackling. Something fizzled and popped, and the Doctor shouted something that sounded like a swear. “Oh, shut it – you – sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh, where are you right now? Are you somewhere?” you asked.

“I’m not somewhere, I’m drifting! Right above Earth, approximately right where you are,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. It quelled your anxiety somewhat. “I’m doing maintenance. Agh – ow! I think I can see the roof of your house through the clouds, unless that’s someone else’s house. What color is your roof?”

You giggled. “It’s brown. You’re in the same time as me?”

“’Course I am,” the Doctor said. You heard the clanging sound of metal being dropped. “I never left.”

The Doctor liked to run off on his own when you were home and have his own mini-adventures. He liked to come back and say he’d spent his time with alien royalty, or something like that. But instead he was staying put, he was waiting, for you. It made the next part so much harder.

“I need you to be my boyfriend,” you said quickly, covering your burning face with your free hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor said simply. Another clang.

Oh? “Just for a day,” you coughed. “I kind of said that I had a boyfriend, and that he was my travel buddy, and now my friends kind of want to meet you. It’s my grade’s family day tomorrow, maybe you could, uh, show up?”

“And be your boyfriend,” the Doctor said.

You nodded, then, “And be my boyfriend. Just for the day. You never have to show up again.”

There was a beat of silence, and for a second you thought the Doctor was going to say no – he had every right to, of course, and you could just lie and say that he couldn’t show up – but the Doctor laughed, cheerful and warm. “Ding-dong! Okay! What time tomorrow? I have to study, I’m a bit rusty in places.”

Your mouth fell open for the second time in twenty-four hours. “You’re serious?”

“Very! Any pet name preferences?”

You groaned loudly, and the Doctor laughed again. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Guess I’ll have to do my own research.”

There was another moment of silence, and when the Doctor spoke again, it was much softer, much less playful. His voice almost sounded fond. “Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly, and the call cut off with a series of short beeps.

Was it a surprise that you barely slept at all? You had spent the whole night with your imagination running at full capacity, your mind latching onto every single thought and concept it could come up with. You slipped in and out of sleep, lying still in bed whenever a possibility popped into your head. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the year – but what was a little acting between friends?

If friends was the right word for it.

You waited for the Doctor behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall and watching the TARDIS fade into this plane. Wind blew into your face as the TARDIS groaned and wheezed, eventually materializing in front of you.

“I’m not late, am I?” the Doctor said, sticking his head out of the TARDIS doors. He grinned widely, his hair falling into his face. You grinned back at him and pushed yourself off the wall.

“You’re early, which is a first,” you said. The Doctor frowned at you, stepped carefully out of the TARDIS, and frowned some more. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I think I’ve earned the right to look at you however I’d like,” the Doctor huffed, adjusting his bowtie. He’d ditched the tweed for the day, it seemed, going with a long green coat that annoyingly complimented his eyes. The frown didn’t last very long, though, because he went right back to grinning brightly at you. He held out his elbow in your direction. “Shall we?”

“Here’s the lucky girl,” Julianne cooed as you walked into the empty canteen. All the tables were pushed aside to make space for all the games you’d be playing – in the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor light up at the sight of all of the streamers and balloons. “And here’s the lucky boy – oh my god, Denise.”

“What?” Denise popped up from behind a large speaker, then blanched. “Oh, now I’m double jealous.”

The Doctor pulled away from you to lightly kiss both of Julianne’s cheeks in greeting. Julianne looked positively starstruck when he stepped back to stand beside you, quickly waving Denise over. Denise had her mouth hanging open, still clutching a microphone in her hands.

“Hi,” you said, gesturing at the Doctor, “here’s my boyfriend.”

The Doctor raised his hand and smiled. “Hello! I’m John Smith, lovely to meet you both. You’re my girlfriend’s girl friends, I assume?”

“Uh –” Denise blinked owlishly. “Yeah, we are.” Then, quietly and to herself, “Holy moly.”

You couldn’t help but grin at their flabbergasted faces. The Doctor rested his hand on the small of your back, and you leaned into his touch as if it was the most normal thing in the universe. That was enough to make Denise stumble into Julianne, who barely even reacted, as she was still staring wide-eyed at the both of you.

“I think we caught them off guard,” you said. The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You did when we met, sweetheart,” the Doctor said smoothly. Sweetheart echoed in your ears and bounced off the walls of your already racing mind. Your heart stuttered in your chest. That was bad.

“Oh, are we doing charm now?” you asked. “Are you trying to be charming?”

“I did say I would study,” the Doctor said.

“You guys are insufferable,” Denise said, but she was beaming at you. “If you could get your hands off of your travel buddy for just a few minutes, I need help with the mics, the families are gonna be here any minute…”

Her voice trailed off as she walked back to the speaker. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss the Doctor’s cheek, feeling his skin heat up underneath your lips. “See you later.”

“…See you,” the Doctor echoed, and bent down to kiss your cheek too. He turned on his heel and walked towards the decorations, softly muttering, “Ooh, balloons! Love a good balloon…”

You stared at him for longer than you should have, watching him poke and prod at the balloons lying on the tables. He put his face very close to one and smiled at his reflection in the plastic. Affection welled up in your chest, and a tiny smile slipped onto your face.

“Look at you, you’re smiling at him,” Julianne chimed, sidling up to you and nudging your side. “That’s disgusting.”

“Says the girl who said I needed to get a boyfriend,” you shot back.

The Doctor went still for a little bit and turned to face you, smiled and winked, then went right back to inspecting balloons. Julianne made a strangled noise, and you made one too. So he was doing charm, and you hated to admit that it was absolutely working on you.

“I meant to say disgustingly adorable,” Julianne said. “You’re so lucky.”

You gave him another glance as you walked away to help Denise with the mics – “help with the mics” was apparently code for “I’m going to tease you more about your new boyfriend” which wasn’t helped by the fact that every so often, the Doctor would look in your direction and just smile, which was enough to make you stumble over your own words and give Denise more teasing fodder.

The parents and their kids eventually filed into the canteen and you flipped into Teacher Mode. You stood next to your students, pinched their cheeks and then greeted all of the parents and got everyone ready for the program. (You didn’t notice how the Doctor mirrored you, standing a little far away and watching, a dumb smile on his face.)

Julianne and Denise were the emcees for the family day, big smiles on their faces as they rounded up everyone for the games. At the mere mention of games, the Doctor was back at your side at an instant, his eyes glittering with excitement.

“Please don’t destroy the kids,” you pleaded.

“No promises,” he replied, and then proceeded to destroy the kids in most of the games.

The first game had Julianne call out for whoever could bring an item of her choice to the table – the Doctor, with his coat that was surely bigger on the inside, had no trouble pulling out whatever was asked. Even when Julianne started to test the waters and ask for increasingly insane items, the Doctor just kept going. He jumped in joy like a little kid at the win, bounding up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You’d just blushed and smiled, ignoring the butterflies that were multiplying in your stomach.

The Doctor holding your hand wasn’t new. The Doctor being close to you wasn’t new. The Doctor being affectionate with you wasn’t new. But now it was all under the guise of being your boyfriend. Of course it felt different, but to your surprise and growing horror, it didn’t feel bad.

The Doctor shouting your name snapped you out of your thoughts. He was standing on a piece of newspaper as Denise started to get music ready, waving his arms to beckon you over. His coat was gone, thrown onto a nearby table, and even without it he was dashing.

“I need you over here!” he yelled, still jumping excitedly. His hair bounced up and down with the movement. “I need a partner!”

You let your feet carry you to him, trying to ignore the stares pointed your way. The Doctor took your hand in his and pulled you onto the newspaper.

“Stay close,” the Doctor said. “I’ve got this.”

Loud, thumping music filled the air. The Doctor spun you around and you squealed in surprise, moving your feet clumsily to the music. Suddenly, it stopped, and the Doctor pulled you back onto the newspaper. It was a tight fit, and you had to press yourself against his body to even stay standing. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy at the contact, and once again you tried to ignore that, too.

“What did I say?” the Doctor breathed, his breath tickling your ear, his smile wide and manic. “Let’s dance!”

The paper got smaller and smaller, and the two of you got closer and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead, and the Doctor had rolled his sleeves up in the middle of all the chaos. In the end, it was just you and another pair of parents, tiptoeing on their own folded pieces of newspaper.

“I’ve got an idea,” the Doctor said, his voice loud over the music. “When the music stops, jump into my arms.”

“Seriously?!” you shouted, and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically. “You’ve got the balance of a drunk giraffe! You’ll drop me!”

“Do you trust me?” the Doctor asked.

There wasn’t any question. “I do!”

“Then jump!”

The music stopped, and in the split second where the Doctor stepped onto the now-tiny folded newspaper, you ran and leapt. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to catch you at all, and in your mind you could already see it – you crashing into him and sending you both tumbling to the floor.

The Doctor’s arms shot out and caught you. Cheers erupted from everyone in the canteen, and behind you your competitors both lost their balance and fell face-first onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around the Doctor’s neck to steady yourself in his arms, feeling him shake slightly as he kept you aloft.

“We won!” you gasped, still basking in all of the cheering. “As expected from my lovely boyfriend.”

The words left your mouth as easily as breathing. You smiled up at the Doctor, breathless from all of the dancing. His skin shone with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his bowtie was askew, but even that was enough to make you throw all caution to the wind – still in his arms, you pulled him down and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from everyone again, but you could care less. The room could be empty and nothing would have changed. As cliché as it sounded, all the mattered was the feeling of the Doctor’s lips against yours. Your hands found their way into his hair and he melted into your touch, pulling you closer to him.

“You know,” the Doctor breathed as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be just for a day.”

“Good,” you replied. You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because I don’t either.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor fanfiction #oh god i spend too long on the intro for this i'm so sorry

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your-denki-kun · 3 years

Text

Gaming

Eijirou X Denki X Reader

A/N: This one-shot is a few months old. I have like 137 drafts of which only a few posted and a few unfinished, so I decided to post at least one tonight. So here it is. It's bad and I know it, but I really wanted to post. Also, I don’t play COD, so don’t come at me being all angry that i got stuff wrong. I write, read and play Minecraft, Sims and that kind of games. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language.

What: Angst, sad, cursing, fluff

Word count: 4.6K+

~3rd person pov.~

After a long day at school you go to sit on your bed after starting your PS4. You get comfortable on your bed and put on your headset. You start up Call of Duty and wait for it to load. Once it's done you go into a random online match and turn on your mic so you can talk with your teammates.

''We're killing these fuckers.'' An aggressive, male voice says, a speaker appearing behind the name; King Explosion Murder.

''Calm down King, they're new to this.'' Another male voice says, the speaker appearing behind the name; Red Riot.

''Yeah King, Red is right.'' Yet another guy says, his name is Charge Bolt.

''Guys, calm down.'' Another male, Spidy Man, says.

''Yeah!'' A girl, Pinky, says.

''Shut it extra's!'' King barks.

''Calm down bro, the game is starting.'' Red says, the numbers on your screen counting down.

''Lets win this shit.'' King says, you can basically hear the smirk in his voice.

As the timer hits zero you run off, walking through the map and searching for a good snipper spot. Once you find one you take out some people, your teammates talking to one another, but you choose to ignore them. As no more people appear you go to look for another spot, taking out someone while looking for it.

''FUCK!!'' King yells as you see he died.

''My ears man.'' Charge Bolt whines.

''Shut it Pikachu!''

''Hey!''

''Guys, focus.'' Red sighs.

They keep talking, but you tune them out once again and keep taking out people. As you shoot someone else the winning screen appears. You smirk as you see you killed the most people. Everyone cheers except King who's just grumbling. You tune everyone back in in order to be able to follow the conversation.

''So manly, BB!'' Red cheers.

''Woo! Finaly someone who's better than King!'' Pinky cheers.

''Nice.'' Spidy says.

''Shut it! We're playing another game!'' King barks.

''No need to be salty.'' You mumble.

''Ohh~'' Everyone except King says.

''SHUT IT EXTRA!!'' King barks.

''Come on King. They're new.'' Red chuckles.

The new game starts and you repeat what you did before. This goes on for multiple rounds, you barely talking and if you talk it's mostly a comment on King. As the night ends you go offline and shut off your Playstation. You get ready for bed and lay down, getting comfortable as you let sleep take over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next two months you keep running into the group of friends and slowly you start opening up to them, actually talking and working together with them. Everyone's scores go up and even King starts accepting you, clearly favoring you over everyone else in the group. That is something the others often complain about.

''King, go a bit to your right behind the wall, I can't get a clear shot.'' You say.

''Got it.'' Is all he says as he aims at the person and kills them.

''Why are you so good at this BB?'' Charge Bolt whines.

''Well, my brother taught me and I play a lot. Red, left, behind the stack of boxes. Like, I play a lot a lot.'' You shrug as you shoot someone.

''Lets just focus on the mission.'' Spidy sighs.

''Got it.'' You all, minus King, reply, going silent once again except the occasional instruction.

Just like always you guys win the round and Red, Spidy, Charge Bolt and Pinky compliment you just like always. You just brush it off and you all start another round. After a few rounds Spidy, Pinky and King have to leave, but Red Riot and Charge Bolt stay. You three play a few more rounds before just deciding to talk.

''So you're telling me none of you guys have ever met?'' You ask in disbelieve.

''Yeah, King doesn't want it and he's always here because we don't play unless he's online. Though that did change since you're here now, but we just never really thought about it anymore.'' Red explains.

''Well, how about we three meet up?''

''Really?'' Red and Charge Bolt ask.

''Yeah, I trust you guys and we can meet up in a public place.'' You shrug, indifferent about your won idea.

''Sure thing.'' Charge Bolt says.

''Great. Okay so I'll tell you guys my number, but don't give it to the others.''

''We don't have their number.'' Red shrugs.

''Okay. So my number is; 0X-XXXX-XXXX.''

''Great, I'll text you. You can make a group chat and we can decide when to meet up.'' Charge Bolt explains.

''Sure thing. Bye guys.''

''Bye.''

You disconnect and wait for them to text you. When they do you save them in your contact list before making a group chat. You name it; Gaming Idiots and wait for them to send something. You don't have to wait long for them to do so.

~Gaming Idiots~

Red Riot Do I need to feel offended?

Charge Bolt No idea bro

You Nah, don't feel offended

Red Riot Okay

Charge Bolt So when are we meeting and where?

Red Riot This Saturday?

You Sure, at the mall in Hosu?

Charge Bolt Sure thing

Red Riot Fine by me

The three of you keep texting for a while until you say good bye because you're almost falling asleep. The rest of the week you guys don't bring up the meeting in front of the others, only mentioning it in the group chat or when you guys are the only ones online. Right now it's Saturday and you're at the mall, waiting for the two males to show up.

You glance around at all the people that are walking around the mall. They both told you what they look like and you did the same. Red Riot said he has red hair and is decently tall while Charge Bolt says he has golden blond hair and isn't all that tall. Red also mentioned something about being buff, which made Charge Bolt jealous because he isn't, or so he says.

As you look around you spot two males, fitting the descriptions you were given, looking around as if they're searching for something. Deciding to test your luck you walk over to them. The closer you get the more sure you are it is them. As you reach them they stare at you, as if waiting for you to confirm things.

''Red Riot? Charge Bolt?'' You ask softly, hoping you're right.

''BB?'' The two of them reply in sync.

''Yes.''

''Cool, we all found each other. Me and Charge Bolt saw each other a bit ago. Have you been here long?''

''Nah, just a few minutes. My real name is (y/n) by the way.''

''Kirishima.''

''Kaminari, nice to meet you gorgeous.'' Kaminari smirks confidently.

''You're the flirt I see. Anyway, what do you guys want to do?''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months go by and the three of you meet up almost weekly. You've developed a crush for the both of them and you have a feeling they have as well. You aren't sure however, but the way you all get flustered and blush a lot is a good indicator. Right now you're on your way to Kirishima's house where you all decided to meet up. You knock on the door and wait.

''Ah, (y/n). You made it. Come in.'' Kirishima smiles as he steps aside to let you in.

''Thanks.'' You smile as you walk past him and into the house.

You take off your shoes and walk further into the house. You soon spot the living room and walk in only to see Kaminari sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table. He smiles at you and waves you over, to which you comply. Kirishima sits down with you guys pretty soon and you look at their nervous faces.

''Something wrong?'' You ask them worriedly.

''We want to tell you something.'' Kirishima starts, avoiding eye contact.

''Okay.''

''We've known each other for a while now and.... We started liking you. Would you be our partner?'' Kaminari blurts out, also avoiding eye contact.

''Of course.'' You smile as you hug them both.

They stare at you in shock for a bit before they start laughing as they hold you close. As you all break the hug after a while you all talk and laugh. When it becomes late Denki walks you home before going to his own house, which you and Eijirou really apreciated. You've never been a big fan of walking outside alone in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

''Guys, we should all meet up.'' Pinky states as you all wait for the new round to start.

''Sure, I don't see why not.'' Eijirou says and you can basically hear him shrug.

''Why not.'' Denki hums.

''Sure.'' You mumble as a reply.

''When?'' Is all Spidy asks.

''What-fucking-ever.''

''Such colorful vocabulary.'' You joke as you roll your eyes.

''YOU WANNA GO?!?!'' King barks into your ears.

''My ears man!'' Eijirou whines loudly.

''How about this Saturday at the mall in Hosu?'' Pinky suggests as the round starts.

''Sure, it's crowded so if any of you are creeps I'll be safe.'' You shrug as you shoot someone.

''Don't worry BB. Me and Red will protect you.'' Denki says in a confident tone.

''You're dead.'' You deadpan as you see his name fade.

''WHAT?!?!'' Denki exclaims loudly.

''Jezus. Could you all quit yelling.'' You groan as you slightly shake your head.

''We both know this was gonna happen BB.'' Eijirou sighs softly, amusement clear in his voice.

''But he didn't have to yell.''

''True, but still.'' Eijirou replies to which you sigh.

You all keep talking until King says he's leaving because it's getting late even though it's only nine thirty, but he always goes to bed at this time. As you shut off your Playstation you hear your phone ding, causing you to smile. You grab your phone and unlock it, seeing Denki send something in the groupchat.

~Gaming Idiots~

Denki<3 But I wasn't kidding, Pichu, we will protect you

Eiji<3 Denks is right. We will

You I know, but it's fun teasing you Denki

Eiji<3 You both looking forward to Saturday?

Denki<3 Mhm! I'm curious as to what they look like

You Well one will have wrinkles from all the shouting and scowling

Denki<3 XD fnwfelsfflwnjk

Eiji<3 That's rude, but it is true

And so you guys keep texting until it's late into the night and you're all barely awake. The next two days you all play every night and you text your boyfriends until late into the night on both days. Right now it's Saturday, about eleven in the morning and you're getting ready. You know Eijirou and Denki will be there soon, so you quickly finish up.

Just as you put the last things in your pockets and bag you hear the door bell ring and a smile appears on your face. You walk over to the front door and put on your shoes and coat. After that you open the door and smile brightly. Your two boyfriends do the same, wearing some simple clothes just like you.

''Hey, Pichu, you ready?'' Denki asks as he gives you a quick kiss.

''Hey, Babes. I'm ready.'' You smile as you walk outside and lock your door.

''Good.'' Eijirou smiles as he gives you a kiss as well.

The three of you start walking towards the mall as you all talk and laugh, memories of your first meeting flooding all your minds. As you all reach the mall you look around, looking for anyone fitting any of the descriptions given to the three of you. You soon spot an annoyed looking, ash blond guy.

''Guys, isn't that King?'' You ask your boyfriends as you point at the guy.

''You might be right. Lets go check if it is.'' Eijirou smiles as he starts walking.

You and Denki follow after him, all of you pushing past people and excusing yourselves. As you reach whom you assume is King a pink haired girl and a black haired guy also walk up to him. You look at Eijirou and Denki and they just nod. Now you are almost a hundred percent sure it's King.

''King?'' You ask as you reach the man.

''Yes, who the fuck are you?''

''(y/n), but better known as BB.'' You smile at him.

''Kirishima, better known as Red Riot.''

''Kaminari, better known as Charge Bolt.''

''Ashido, but you guys know me as Pinky.'' The pink haired girl smiles.

''Sero, but you know me as Spidy Guy.'' The black guy smiles.

''Bakugou.'' is all King says.

''now that we're all here and know names, how about we get something to eat and drink before we just do whatever?'' you suggest as you look at them.

''sure.'' they all reply.

you start walking to your favorite coffee shop which you always go to with Eijirou and Denki whenever you guys are here. Two said males smile once they notice and grin at one another. Cheerful chatter fills the air around the six of you. As you all reach the coffee shop you all order and sit down. You sit in between Eijirou and Denki, Bakugou sits in front of you, Ashido in front of Eijirou and Sero in front of Denki.

''This is so exciting.'' Sshido gushes as she takes a sip of her drink.

''Mhm, I finally have faces with the voices and names.'' You smile as you take a sip as well.

''Yeah, that is nice. We should totally exchange numbers though. That way we can talk without having to play.'' Denki chimes in.

You all keep talking while eating and drinking. Once you all finish Eijirou pays and you all start walking around, walking into random shops and buying random things. As you're looking at some books together with Eijirou and Denki you feel someone stare at you intently, so you look behind you and lock eyes with Bakugou's burning gaze.

''Pebble, something wrong?'' Eijirou asks worried.

''Bakugou is staring at us rather intensely.'' You mumble as you keep staring at him.

''Then ask him what's wrong.'' Denki shrugs as he grabs another book.

You simply nod and walk over to Bakugou, never once breaking eye contact. He doesn't move towards you or away from you as he follows you with his eyes. As you reach him you stand in front of him and look up slightly seeing he's taller than you. He glares down at you, eyes burning with something you can't quiet place.

''Something wrong Bakugou?''

''Why the fuck are you so close with Shitty hair and Dunce face?''

''Can't I be?''

''You fucking can, but it's different. Soy sauce and Pinky are close as well, but you three are acting fucking off.''

''Not everyone is the same Bakugou.'' You deadpan with a soft sigh.

''Just fucking tell me, do you already know the other extras?''

''I d-''

''Ie! Denki!'' You hear Eijirou exclaim, causing you to look back.

You see Denki laughing as he runs off with Eijirou chasing him, a playful yet annoyed look on his face. Sighing you walk away from Bakugou and towards your two idiotic boyfriends. First you grab Denki by the back off his collar, causing him to yelp. Next you do the same with Eijirou. They both look at you sheepishly as you sigh.

''Behave.''

''Yes.'' They both reply.

You nod and let the both of them go. They sigh in relief, but that's short lived as you hit the both of them at the back of the head. They both yelp in pain and rub the back of their heads as they weakly glare at you. You simply smile at them and ruffle their hair. You hear someone stomp over and look behind you to see Bakugou.

''Fucking spit it out!'' He barks as he glares dagers at the three of you.

''Spit what out?'' Eijirou and Denki ask confused.

''Do you guys fucking know each other?''

''Of course, we all game together.'' Denki asks, confused at the question.

''That's not what he means. He means if we know each other outside of the gaming.'' You explain, not looking at him but Bakugou.

''Ah, yeah we do.'' Denki smiles obliviously.

''Denki.'' Both you and Eijirou groan, he can be too dumb for his own good sometimes.

''What did I do?'' He asks worried.

''We promised to meet up all at once and not separately, remember?'' Eijirou asks him.

''Ohhh, right. We did promise that.'' Denki mumbles. ''Oopsie.''

''Dunce face!'' Bakugou barks.

''Back off Bakugou. He might be an idiot, but he's our idiot.'' You say in a low, threatening voice.

''YOU'RE ALL PIECES OFF SHIT!! FUCKING LIARS!! I FUCKING HATE ALL OF YOU!! NEVER FUCKING SPEAK TO ME AGAIN!!'' Bakugou yells as he stomps off and out of the store.

''Well, that happened.'' You mumble, but as you look at your boyfriends you see their teary eyes.

''Ei? Denki?'' You ask as you walk closer.

''He hates us......We promised to always be there and....Now he hates us.'' Eijirou mumbles as he looks at you with sad eyes.

''Ohh, Ei, he'll turn around.'' You shush him softly as you hug him.

''He won't. He's the reason Ear Jack isn't in the group anymore. She kept canceling whenever we decided to all come online and Bakugou blew up on her.'' Denki mumbles as tears fill his eyes to the brim.

''I'm sorry. I didn't know.'' You whisper as you pull him into the hug as well.

''What happened here?'' Ashido asks worried.

''Bakugou blew up on us. Something about hating us and never wanting to talk to us again.'' You explain, holding your boyfriends close.

''I see. Well, it was nice knowing you guys. Bye.'' Sero says as he waves and walks off.

''Bye.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

''Come one guys, cheer up a bit.'' You whisper as you look at your two sad boyfriends.

''We lost our friend, Pichu.'' Denki mumbles as his eyes fill with tears again.

''He hates us. We failed him.'' Eijirou mumbles as he hugs himself close.

They've been like this for two weeks now and it isn't helping you either. You were the one who suggested meeting up in the first place, only the three of you. 'If I didn't ask them to meet up with me, just us, non of this would have happened. This is my fault.' You think as you walk out of Eijirou's house where Denki has been staying since that day.

You walk to the park and google Bakugou's number, finding some social media pages linked to it. After a bit you see a house, with a house number. He's standing in front of the house together with a green haired guy who seems to be the same age. You recognize the buildings and start walking to the neighborhood where those houses stand.

As you walk around you try to find his house, different scenarios running through your mind. After a while you see the house and walk up to it. Sighing you ring the doorbell and wait. After a bit a female version of Bakugou opens the door. You assume it's his mom. She looks at you in shock before smiling brightly.

''Hello, what can I do for you?'' She asks sweetly.

''I’m here for Bakugou. I'm a friend of his and I want to talk to him.'' You explain.

''Come in. KATSUKI!!'' She yells as she turns away from you and walks into the house.

''WHAT YOU OLD HAG?!?!'' Bakugou's voice yells back.

''THERE'S SOMEONE HERE FOR YOU!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!!'' She turns back to you and smiles. ''You can sit in the living room.''

''I'll stand right here, ma'am.'' You smile with a slight bow of your head.

You hear feet stomp down the stairs and look up, seeing and annoyed Bakugou stomping down them. Once he sees you his look turns even more annoyed and even angry. You look at him with a neutral face as the mom walks into the kitchen after excusing herself. Bakugou walks over to you with a burning glare.

''What the fuck are you doing here?'' He hisses.

''It was my idea. I suggested to meet up, just the three of us. I asked if you guys ever met up and they said no. It was my idea. Don't punish them for my mistake.'' You state, meeting his gaze and holding it.

''And why the fuck would I believe you?'' He asks in a skeptical voice.

''I have no reason to lie to you. Eijirou and Denki are hurting, they're devastated that they lost you. Hate me all you want, god you can wish me death, but at least accept them into the games. You don't have to be buddy buddy with them, but they need you.''

''Bullshit.''

''Believe what you want. Deep down you know they're devastated and that it was never their intention to hurt you like this. I caught them off guard and got us to meet, it was my idea. That's all I have to say. Do with it what you want. I'll be leaving now. Bye.'' You say as you turn to the door and walk out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doorbell of your house rings, causing you to frown. You walk over to the door you open it and see Bakugou, causing your frown to deepen. You open the door and let him in. He walks past you, takes off his shoes and walks deeper into the house, eventually sitting down on the couch. You follow after him, frown not leaving.

''What are you doing here?'' You ask as you sit down on a chair facing the couch.

''Where are Shitty hair and Dunce face?''

''At Eijirou's house. They haven't left it after that day.''

''Shitty hair has his own house?'' Bakugou asks surprised, although he doesn't really show it.

''Yeah, me and Eijirou have our own houses. Denki still lives at home just like you.''

''Get them to come over.''

''Okay.'' You take your phone out of your pocket and call Eijirou, putting the phone on speaker, causing Bakugou to frown.

''Pebble, we are not going outside and coming over. You know we aren't in the mood.'' Eijirou's tired voice mumbles after two rings.

''I know, Ei. I know.'' You whisper as your eyes sadden.

''Then why did you call?'' Denki mumbles as you glance at Bakugou who looks shocked.

''There is someone here who would like to talk to you guys.'' You sigh as you hand the phone to Bakugou. ''Hurt them and I hurt you. I'll be at the store. I'll be back in half an hour.''

Bakugou nods as you walk over to the door, put on your shoes and leave. Bakugou looks at the phone as Eijirou and Denki keep calling for you and asking who it is. Bakugou takes a deep breath and shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts. By now it's silent on the other end.

''Is it fucking true it was their idea?''

''....Bakugou?'' The both of them ask softly.

''Answer the fucking question.'' Bakugou groans in annoyance.

''It was. They suggested to meet up. Why are you at their place? I thought you hated us and wanted nothing to do with us.'' Eijirou mumbles defeated.

''They came to my fucking house four days ago and explained it was their idea, not fucking yours. I just wanted to fucking make sure.''

''Okay.'' They mumble softly.

''Oi.''

''Yeah?''

''Sorry or whatever. You guys can join games again and text or whatever. And don't make me fucking regret that shit.''

''We won't!'' The both of them cheer.

The three of them talk until you come home. You're glad to hear their cheerful voices over the phone. Bakugou looks at you with his usual scowl and holds the phone out to you. You shake your head, walk over and mute yourself. Bakugou frowns and it only deepens when he sees your teary eyes.

''This is all my fault. Here is Eijirou's address, you can go there and talk to them face to face if you want. Don't bother coming here again. I'll take responsibility for what I did.'' You whisper as you take the phone, unmute it and take a deep breath. ''Bakugou is on his way to you guys, bye.''

''What the fuck are you doing?'' Bakugou asks as he gets up and stares down at you.

''The right thing.'' You whisper as you walk over to your bedroom and close the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next two weeks you cry a lot, ignore Eijirou's and Denki's texts and calls and when they're at the door you also don't respond. You know you're worrying them, but you can't bring yourself to face them after everything you made them go through. they were heartbroken when Bakugou broke off contact.

''OPEN THE FUCK UP!!'' You hear Bakugou bark as he bangs on your door violently.

''Go away.'' You mumble before walking away from the door.

''I SAID OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!''

''Just go away! Leave me alone! I deserve it! I hurt them so much! It's all my fault!'' You exclaim as tears stream down your face.

''BULLSHIT!! OPEN THE DOOR!!''

''NO!! LEAVE ME ALONE!! I DON'T DESERVE THEM!! IF IT WASN'T FOR ME NON OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!! THEY WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN HURT LIKE THAT!!'' You exclaim as you fall to the ground.

''Fuck it.'' Is all the warning you get before you door falls to the ground. ''LISTEN HERE YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!! YOU'RE FUCKING HURTING THEM RIGHT NOW!! MAN THE FUCK UP AND TALK TO THEM!!''

''No!''

''GOD DAMNED IT DON'T BE FUCKING STUBBORN!! YOU'RE ALL FUCKING HURTING!!'' He yells as he walks over and grabs your collar, lifting you up so you're face to face. ''Fucking talk to them. This shit isn't helping. Go over to Shitty hair's house and fucking talk to them.''

''I can't.'' You whisper in defeat as a sob escapes. ''I can't! I can't bring myself to do it! Whenever I see their picture flash across my screen I fucking break down! I can't!''

''Fuck it.'' Bakugou grumbles before slinging you over his shoulder.

You eyes widen in shock as Bakugou walks over to the door and steps over it, walking out off your apartment. You trash in his hold and yell at him to let you go as you sob and hit his back. He just stays silent as he walks to Eijirou's house. Once he reaches it he harshly knocks on the door, by now you're just limply hanging on his shoulder.

''Hey, wh-(y/n)? Bakugou?'' Eijirou asks confused. ''What is this?''

''Let me the fuck in.''

''Of course.''

Eijirou steps aside and Bakugou walks in, heading to the living room after kicking off his shoes. He throws you onto the couch and walks out of the house again. You just lay motionless on the couch with your face buried in the cushions. Denki and Eijirou stare at you with worry and confusion as they sit on the chairs facing the couch.

''Pichu?'' Denki whispers softly, breaking the tens and awkward silence.

''Pebble, talk to us please.'' Eijirou pleads softly.

''It's my fault. All of this is my fault.'' You mumble as you push yourself up and hug your legs to your chest.

''What do you mean, Pichu?''

''If I hadn't asked you guys to meet up non of this would have happened.''

''We could have said no to your offer, we're just as much at fault.'' Eijirou says in a caring voice.

''I surprised you guys.''

'Iis this why you've been ignoring us?'' Denki whispers softly as he gets up and walks over.

''I just feel so guilty and I....I feel like I don't deserve this.'' You mumbles as you glance at him with teary eyes.

''You do deserve this, Pebble. We don't hold any of this against you and we never will. I get why you feel like this, but there is no reason for you to feel like this.'' Eijirou says with a gentle smile as he walks over.

''You promise?'' You almost whimper.

''We promise. Now are we good again?''

''Yeah.''

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

Could you do "things you said at 1 am" for MarTim? Romantic or platonic is good. I'm loving all these prompt fics so much!

warning for some discussion of canon-typical worms

Tim sets the box of Martin’s things at the foot of the cot in document storage and makes a show of shaking out his arms and hands, even though it really hadn’t been that heavy. Mostly clothes and toiletries and other necessary amenities—though Tim had snuck in a small faux-leather notebook and a picture frame depicting a family he assumed to be Martin’s standing in front of the sea. Martin couldn’t have been more than five in the picture, but Tim recognized his auburn curls and button nose.

If Martin’s going to be stuck in the Archives for the foreseeable future, he may as well have something personal to keep him company, Tim figures. So, he’d packed it away, gathered the rest of the items on the list Martin had provided him with, and brought it all back to the Archives. Sasha was already gone by the time he arrived, and Jon’s office door was shut, though a thin line of light escaped from below it.

He’s been working later and later, Tim’s noticed. And if the cot already tucked away in document storage is anything to go by, he’s also been spending less and less time at his flat.

“There we are,” Tim says, flashing Martin a warm smile. “You’re all set to live in the company of hundreds of years’ worth of dusty documents. Not exactly bedtime stories—unless you prefer the spooky sort—but, you know…”

Tim trails off with a small shrug. There’s an ache beneath it, one that grows stronger when Martin curls in on himself slightly and says, “Better than the worms.”

“Yeah,” Tim says, and some of it leaks out—a guilt so thick it hurts his teeth. Two weeks, and he hadn’t even thought to check on Martin.

“We would have come,” Tim finds himself saying, quiet yet too-loud in the space between them. “If we’d have known, we would have come.”

“I know,” Martin says, his words ragged around the edges. “It- it’s okay.”

“No,” Tim says, surprised at the conviction in his voice. “It’s not. You were trapped for two weeks by a worm-infested woman and- and we just took her word that you were out sick.” Tim feels revulsion bubbling up within him, a sickening nausea. “I texted her. I thought it was you, and I- I was sending her the things I would send you, little jokes and pictures I thought you’d like and offering to come over. But every time, you said no. Said you didn’t want me to get sick, and it was such a you thing to say that I just accepted it! After a week, I should have just come by, if only to see if you needed- Christ, groceries or something.”

Martin hugs his arms tighter to himself. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “I- I don’t know what would have happened if you did.”

Tim knows that Martin’s right. He’d probably be dead. Or worse. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that if he’d just cared enough to check in, Martin wouldn’t have that scared, haunted look on his face that he’s trying very hard to hide. “Yeah,” Tim says, that same guilt laced into his words. “You’re probably right. Doesn’t make it better, though.”

Martin just nods. For a moment, they stand there in silence. Tim doesn’t know what to do, how to make it better. He hadn’t been there for Martin when he’d been trapped and alone and terrified, but he’s here now. He’s here, but he’s never been good at comforting people, at smoothing the pain from someone’s face or knowing the right words to chase away fear and sadness.

So, eventually, Tim shrugs off his jacket, folds it on top of the box, and says, “You know, I have some playing cards stashed away in my desk, as well as quite an impressive selection of crisps and chocolates. I have to tell you, though—I’ve never lost a match of Go Fish.”

Martin’s eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide with surprise. “What?”

Tim shrugs and smiles, a practiced motion that keeps him grounded even when pain and sadness threaten to tear him apart. He hopes it does the same for Martin. “Thought we’d make a night of it. A good old-fashioned sleepover, if you will.”

“Why—?” Martin cuts off, shakes his head once. When he speaks again, his voice is cracked down the middle. “You- you don’t have to stay, Tim. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Tim says, a bit of that guilt pushing into the edges of his words again despite his best efforts to keep it hidden. He lets it take over, for just a moment, and says, “I thought you might not want to be alone. And I’ve been told that I’m excellent company.”

Martin lets out a small, shaky laugh. “Do they?” he says, humored, and something warm spreads through Tim’s chest, nestling next to his heart. “I- I suppose… I’d like that.” He nods hesitantly and repeats, “I’d like that.”

Tim flashes Martin another grin before heading off to retrieve the cards.

They stay up late, into the very early morning even as exhaustion drags Tim’s eyelids down with every passing hour. Tim’s always liked spending time with Martin—on Friday nights at the pub or on the occasional movie night or even just in passing, taking a moment to chat at Martin’s desk before moving on to his own work. He finds himself moving closer and closer to Martin as the night wears on until their thighs are pressed together as they lean against the wall, the cards laying forgotten on the floor in front of them as they just talk. About frivolous things, like the kinds of flowers Tim likes and Martin’s favorite pastries. About personal things, like Martin’s visits to his mother in the home and Tim’s brief affair with Sasha.

The clock rolls over into single digits, and Martin says, quietly, “I lied on my CV.”

Tim looks over at him. His hands are fidgeting in his lap, but his mouth is set into a thin, determined line, like he’d been working himself up to this for a very long time. Martin must sense Tim’s eyes on him because he continues unprompted, “I- I mentioned that my mother is in a home, and- and she’s been unwell for quite some time, so I had to drop out of school when I was 17 to support us. Didn’t have time or the qualifications for a degree, but I needed the money, and- and nowhere was hiring, so I- I faked my credentials. Said I had a master’s in business or English or history—anything that might get me a job that paid enough to support us. For some reason, my lie about parapsychology got me an interview with Elias, and then… he hired me.” Martin sucks in a small, shaky breath. “I- I’m only 29.”

Tim’s reeling a bit. He doesn’t really know what to say—what can he say? Eventually, what comes out is, “You’ve been here since you were 22? Without a degree?” He turns so he can face Martin fully and says, completely serious, “Martin, that’s amazing.”

Martin flushes a bright crimson. “I- I don’t really think it’s- I mean, it’s not really something that I earned—”

Tim puts his hand on Martin’s knee, and Martin’s mouth snaps shut. “To jump straight into an academic job without any prior knowledge? Yeah, maybe it’s not conventional, but it doesn’t negate the fact that you’re just as good a researcher as me and Sasha.”

Martin’s flush grows deeper, and he mumbles, “Yeah, I- I guess.”

Martin’s hands begin to twist around each other again, an uncomfortable gesture, and after a moment’s hesitation, Tim takes one of Martin’s hands in his, trying to offer support and reassurance in the brush of his fingers against Martin’s. He hears the way Martin’s breath hitches as he does so, and affection curls in his stomach. “I’m glad you told me,” Tim says sincerely. “And I hope you know that I’m not going to tell anybody, not unless you want me to.”

Martin shakes his head firmly. “No, I- I really don’t want to be fired. I, er. I kind of need this job.” He lets out a small noise that could almost be a groan if it weren’t so laced with nerves. “Christ, if Jon found out. After the dog incident, I- I think he’d just fire me on the spot.”

“Or maybe,” Tim says, “it might finally convince him to stop berating you for every little mistake.”

“Tim,” Martin says, pleading.

“I’m not going to tell him,” Tim says softly, squeezing Martin’s hand once more to firmly convey his point. “I promise.”

The tension in Martin’s shoulders bleeds out, and he sighs heavily. “Thank you. For- for everything, I suppose.” He pauses a moment before saying, quieter, “For- for this. For staying with me.”

Tim knocks his shoulder against Martin’s and then makes the split-second decision to leave it there, pressed against Martin’s. “Yeah, of course,” he says lightly. “We’re friends.”

“Friends,” Martin echoes, like the word’s unfamiliar on his tongue. After a moment, he squeezes Tim’s hand in return and leans more firmly into Tim’s side. His curls brush against the shell of Tim’s ear, and Tim has the sudden desire to feel Martin’s lips against him, ghosting across his jawline and light against his temple. For a moment, he considers asking—taking Martin’s hand and raising it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Martin’s knuckles and his palm and the inside of his wrist.

He doesn’t. Instead, he gives Martin a wide smile and says, “I like you, Martin. Me and Sasha and- and even Jon, I bet, underneath all that prickliness.” He gives in to his desires, just a bit, and lets his free hand come up to the side of Martin’s face, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “How could we not?”

Martin’s cheek is hot beneath Tim’s hand, and he can feel the motion of Martin’s jaw as he says, quietly, “I… I like you too.”

“Flatterer,” Tim says. He loves the way Martin’s smile at that feels against his palm.

They go to sleep soon after, Martin flat on his back on the cot and Tim sprawled on top of him despite Martin’s protests that we’re not both going to fit, Tim, the cot’s not really built for two. Tim can feel the motion of Martin’s chest as he breathes; he wants to curl up into Martin’s side and stay there forever.

“Goodnight,” Tim mumbles, sleep already overtaking him. Maybe that’s why he lets his lips brush against Martin’s cheek as he says it, a slight enough motion that he doesn’t know if Martin feels it.

He’s not awake for long enough to know for sure. But with the feeling of Martin beneath him, soft and warm and safe, he doesn’t really mind either way.

#tma #tma fic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #martim #martin blackwood #tim stoker #my fic #my writing #christ another 1.8k 'ficlet'#i am apparently incapable of writing short things (esp. short angst)#anyway hope you enjoy some s1 emotional hurt/comfort ft. pining tim :)

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sweetkingdomstarlight-blog · 3 years

Note

Couldn't remember if you were looking for prompts from a specific list but I couldn’t find one so hopefully I can inspire a Lee fic with the dialogue "we don't have to wait" where Lee grows impatient as he drives reader to a dinner date after she finally said yes to him... anyways, luv ya! -Roo

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Reader

Words - 1523

Warnings - attempted mugging, slight choking, character manipulation, implied sex

A/N - Roo! Thanks so much for sending me this prompt, I love writing for Lee. Hopefully it was worth the wait, thanks as always to @buckyownsmylife for beta reading this and fixing my mistakes as usual.

Working at the police station for the last year you got to know the best and worst of your town. People seemed to lay it all out at the station, Mrs Langley came by once a week with a pie and a smile hoping to get some gossip from you, but you were always tight lipped, you gave her a thin smile and sent her on her way every time.

Sheriff Lee Bodecker had been on a campaign to win the town over and become mayor, you thought it was nothing more than a power trip but he couldn't be worse than the man in charge now, he was as corrupt and dirty as the Sheriff but he was also very handsy with the young girls and for that alone you wanted to see him gone.

You were refreshing your mug of coffee when Lee came into the break room looking for you. “Are you ever going to let me take you out, sweets?” he asked you, standing a bit too close and tilting your chin up with his fingers.

“No, sheriff, I can't. It's not a good idea for me to be dating the boss, people will talk about me, saying I only got the job by getting on my back.” You manoeuvred away from him, smiling softly and going back to your desk. You didn’t want to go out with the man, something about him gave you the creeps and you couldn’t put your finger on it but the more distance between you and that man the better.

The next morning went the same as any other, Deputy Greaves brought in the box of pastries, Darlene brought in the large pot of coffee and everyone sat around the table to have the team meeting. As the station secretary it was your job to take notes and so you sat next to the Sheriff thinking nothing of him pulling his chair closer and leaning into your space. You sat absentmindedly doodling little animals on your page as Detective Hill droned on and on about the potholes on main street when you felt it. His thigh was pushed up against yours, you couldn’t move away from him without making it obvious, so you decided to try and ignore it while carrying on making notes.

A few minutes passed and his hand was suddenly resting on your thigh, fingers lazily playing with the hem of your skirt. You looked up at him and saw that he was just staring straight ahead, listening to the speech that still hadn’t ended. His hand started to move, hitching your skirt higher but not touching you anymore than he was. Your face heated up and you were so distracted you hadn’t realised Deputy Greaves had asked you a question, asking him to repeat it you saw the Sheriff smile to himself and move his hand away, clearly satisfied with whatever it was that he was trying to accomplish.

Getting back to your desk, you aren’t sure if you should say something or if you should just leave it, he was the sheriff and he could make your life very difficult if he wanted to. Deciding to ignore it, you quickly type up the notes and get them handed out to the team, before grabbing your purse and rushing to the diner for lunch.

You aren’t very far from the station when someone runs past you and grabs your bag, trying to snatch it off your shoulder, he threatens to hurt you unless you give it up. You scream for help and, seemingly out of nowhere, Lee grabs him and pushes him up against the wall, cuffing him and roughing him up a little.

The sense of relief you feel because he was nearby rushes through you and you can’t stop thanking him. He chuckles at you and smiles down, lifting your chin up the way he always seems to. “You can thank me by going out with me tonight? C’mon sweets, just one night, let me take you out.” You nod and smile a little at him, you can’t really say no, he saved you. Just one night and he’ll leave you alone, he’ll move on to whoever his next infatuation is.

Lee takes the mugger round the corner and quickly uncuffs him, handing him some money and checking he didn’t hurt him too much. “Thanks man, worked a treat” before sending him in the opposite direction and heading back to the station.

After taking a long lunch at the Sheriff's insistence you get back to your desk. Your cheeks warm up a little when you see a small bunch of flowers, the note attached reading “I'll pick you up at 8, dress nicely. LB”. You push the flowers to the edge of your desk and try not to think about it, how was it going to work? You didn’t want to go but couldn’t really say no, you’d just put on a brave face and smile at him politely. One night, that's all, you repeat to yourself once again.

You’re finishing up some paperwork when you hear someone clearing their throat for attention, looking up you see Mrs Langley stood with what looked like a peach cobbler, no doubt here for her weekly gossip. You thought she would somehow know about your date so you tried to not talk at all in case she used her old lady magic on you and made you spill the beans. Lee walked past just as you were deep into her chat about the Henderson boys and their latest prank in the town square, he raised his eyebrow to question you and all you could do was give him a tiny smile, he winked at you, tipped his hat and left to do his patrol.

It was 7:55, you were ready and waiting for him. The dread in your stomach makes you feel even more nervous than usual so you have a quick swig from the brandy bottle you keep in your kitchen. Hearing a knock on your door, you smooth your dress out and answer with a nervous smile. Lee looks good, it's the first time you’ve seen him without his uniform on and you actually quite like it, he almost looks like a normal guy and not the creep you’re used to.

He holds his arm out for you to take and leads you to his car where he opens the door like a gentleman, you make small talk and strangely enjoy being in his company. He seems more relaxed than he is usually. Seeing the diner up ahead, you grab your handbag from the footwell but look at him strangely when he drives straight past. He watches you from the corner of his eye and smirks to himself when you put your bag back down, visibly confused.

Pulling into what looks like some sort of lovers lane he stops the car and turns his body to you, the expression on his face like nothing you had ever seen before. “Lee, what are we doing here? I thought we were going to Jimmys?” He scoffs at the suggestion that he would take you there on a first date where the whole town would be watching.

“You know I'm running for town mayor?” He runs his fingers up and down your neck, making you shiver. You nod at him and try to move away from his inquisitive fingers. “I’m going to need a pretty little wife by my side, everyone loves a family man”.

You lean back and look at him in horror “And what, you think this is the best way to get a wife?” you spit out, shocked when his fingers suddenly wrap around your throat, gently squeezing in warning. His eyes darken as he takes in your form, admiring the pretty blue dress you wore for him. Smirking at the fear in your eyes, he moves his hand from your throat and squeezes your chin.

“I need a wife and a baby, you’re here now, we don't have to wait, I know you want this or you wouldn't have agreed to be here tonight.” He keeps a firm hold of you and uses his other hand to slowly unbutton your dress. Pulling it open he marvels at your white cotton brassiere, rubbing his thumb over your nipple before pinching it, making you gasp out.

He sits back and unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans and underwear down enough to free his hard cock. “Now be a good girl, get over here and take a seat,” he growls at you, grabbing you and pulling you towards him. “You’re all mine now, don’t forget that or I can make you disappear just like wife number one,” he sneers at you, patting the gun he had stored in the door. Getting you into position over his lap he grabs your hair at the scalp. “You’ll make me such a good man sweets, now get to work.” He pushes his chair back and smiles at you as you sink down and whine for him, tears silently rolling down your cheeks.

#lee bodecker #lee bodeckerxreader #lee bodeckerxyou #Sebastian Stan

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solinarimoon · 3 years

Text

A Song for the Sea

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pairing: Finan x OFC

Warnings: some violence, held against their will, forced marriage, hints of abusive relationship

~ ~ ~ ~

Her eyes were like the sea before a storm. Blue and green marbling together. They spoke to him. Of depths hidden under their surface. Of secrets and sadness.

Finan could not keep his eyes from searching for her. He yearned to fall captive to their stare once more.

While walking through the street of Coccham, his eyes were roving every face for a glimpse of those startling eyes.

Osferth at his side, they meandered through the market expecting that they would find them looking to replenish supplies for their journey.

~~~~~

Muireann and her husband, Cael had docked at Coccham a few days prior.

Upon their arrival, Cael asked to speak with the Lord Uhtred. He claimed to be a trader of fur and wished to stay on in the burg a few days while a storm that was following them passed.

He had a large amount of seal skin pelts he was willing to trade for the lord's permission.

Uhtred agreed to allow them safe harbor.

After showing them to the town’s tavern where they could pay for a room for a few nights, Uhtred informed his men that Cael and his wife were to be watched closely. He did not get an honest feeling from them. Sihtric and Osferth both agreed with their lord's appraisal of their new visitors. Finan was glad he was not alone in his judgements either.

Cael had a sly demeanor and Uhtred’s first impression was that he was either a spy (though for whom he did not know) or was looking to cheat the good people of Coccham out of their money. As a young man, Uhtred had experience with men such as these. They were not to be trusted. Several pieces of their story did not sit well with the men. Why was a trader traveling with only himself and his wife? And by boat?

Then there was the fact that Muireann kept her head down and was completely subservient to her husband. Finan knew that many marriages worked in such a fashion but it was not something he ever enjoyed witnessing. He firmly believed marriage should be a partnership. He saw that exemplified in Uhtred and Gisela’s marriage. The same could be said for Sihtric and his wife.

Muireann did not appear to be a threat. Instead, she gave him the feeling that she had something to hide. Some secret kept hidden from the world. This sense became pronounced when Muireann took his outstretched hand to board the dock from their small trading boat.

She had looked up as her feet hit the boards and their eyes locked.

And Finan was lost.

He could become lost in those stormy eyes for eternity and he would not have cared.

She had taken a sharp inhale of breath when their eyes met. Finan knew that she had felt some connection. Some pull. There was a meaning to their meeting on that dock, suspended above the rising waters and murky depths.

“Thank you…” she whispered, leaving her words hanging in the air like mist off the sea.

“Finan. I am called Finan, lady.”

“Finan” She repeated. And he could have listened to her lovely voice speak his name for 1,000 years.

“Muireann!” Cael spoke her name with a harsh bark.

Instantly, Muireann dropped Finan’s gaze and made a hasty apology. She practically ran to her husband’s side as Uhtred escorted them to the tavern.

Finan watched her leave and felt his world shift. He knew something had just changed for him. And Muireann was the cause of that change.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back at the market.

It took several more minutes before Osferth and Finan spied Cael and Muireann at a stall on the far end of the market. Close to the harbor. This was likely so they could keep an eye on their boat and it’s content. Muireann’s gaze was constantly shifting to stare across the water. As they approached, Finan watched her. Her eyes continued to return to the water. Her gaze betrayed a sense of yearning.

“Our lord would like it if you and your wife could join us in the hall for supper.” Finan said as he approached Cael. “He knows you’ll be departing soon and wishes to send you off with full bellies.” His Irish brogue lilted.

~~~~~~

The pair had stayed in the village tavern, paying for one of their upstairs rooms. For several nights, a strong storm had indeed blown through the harbor at Coccham. In that time, one or more of Uhtred’s men had staked a claim drinking and cajoling with the other tavern guests.

Everyone agreed that the couple gave them the sense of concealed secrets. What the men could not discern was if that secret would be of any importance to them or to Coccham.

Finan had volunteered to be at the tavern more than the rest of the men. Sihtric had a family and much preferred spending his free time at home when they were not required to be traveling with Uhtred. And Osferth enjoyed the tavern but would have struck everyone as behaving oddly if he had hung around the tavern by himself. He was not one to drink unless with the rest of the men.

Finan admitted to himself that he was happy to take most of the time at the tavern. The fact was he was desperate to see Muireann again and determine what spark her eyes had ignited in him. He could not shake the feeling that she needed him somehow. And he needed her.

He felt a sense of urgency where she was concerned.They hadn’t said more than a few pleasantries to each other and yet…

Finan did not believe in destiny like Uhtred. Neither did he NOT believe in it. He had never felt the need to put much stock in it either way. But he found himself thinking about it now. On destiny and Muireann’s eyes.

~~~~~~

Back at the market

“That is very generous of your lord. My wife and I would be honored to eat at his table. Please give him our regards.”

“Yes please tell lord Uhtred and the lady Gisela that we look forward to it. Thank you, Finan” Muireann says while meeting his gaze.

The pull was there once again. Just as strong as before. Finan had to stop himself from reaching out to her. Time had slowed and sounds around them had become muffled.

Muireann was shaken from their reverie as her husband called her name.

Cael had shifted to a further stall after giving a farewell to Osferth. Muireann dropped her head and folded her arms across herself as she said goodbye.

“Coming,” she called to her husband.

She took a final glance at Finan and then shifted her eyes towards the harbor. There, several seals were perched on a rock.

“That’s an odd sight,” Finan remarked.

“We don’t usually have seals this far into the harbor. They prefer to stay upstream. Closer to the ocean.”

The seals seemed to be staring at Muireann and Finan. Their dark eyes watching.

Muireann placed her hand on Finan’s arm, gaining his attention once more.

“Thank you again for the dinner invitation. If there is ale there that my husband can enjoy then I will appreciate the company.”

“Is your husband not enough company for ya? And what has ale to do with it?” Finan did not know what prompted him to be so forward. But he simply couldn’t shake the feeling she needed help. And she did offer the cryptic information about ale.

“The amount of his company is not to my liking nor is the quality. He… he is not a kind man. In fact he can be cruel. But when he has enough ale, I can”

But she was unable to finish that thought. At that instant, Cael’s harsh voice broke through their conversation once more, “Muireann do not linger.”

“I must go. I do not wish to anger him.”

With that final comment and all its implications ringing in his head, Finan watched her walk to her husband.

“So your husband is more tolerable when he’s full of ale. We will have to ensure that he gets plenty to wet his palette then.” Finan thought to himself. As he turned to rejoin Osferth and return to the great hall, he did not notice the seal's eyes following Muireann.

~~~~

Dinner that evening had gone harmlessly.

Uhtred kept up a lively conversation with Cael throughout the evening. They mainly spoke of travels and common places they had both visited. The words spoken were amicable enough. But it did not go unnoticed that Cael stifled any attempt Muireann had at joining in on conversation around the table.

He would interrupt her or loudly bring the subject back around to himself. When Gisela and Sihtric both attempted to make conversation with Muireann, Cael answered for her even as she opened her mouth to reply for herself.

The one mistake Cael made was to continue to drink. Finan made every attempt to casually keep Caels cup full. And the man did not protest. As Ceal became inebriated, his controlling demeanor towards Muireann lessened. He began to lose focus on details of his surroundings, like men do when they drink.

Muireann, who had noticed what Finan was doing with Cael’s cup, even began to smile at the conversations around her. Finan saw her shoulders begin to loosen and relax.

“A song for the sea! That’s what Muireann calls it. It’s a song sung to bless sea voyages. She’s the voice of a goddess.”

Somehow the conversation had steered towards superstitions and rituals used in sea voyages. Uhtred had recounted some of the rituals used by the Danes that were taught to him as a child. This prompted Cael to drunkenly proclaim that Muireann’s voice would bless all his travels.

“Sing it for everyone, wife.”

“They do not wish to hear my song,” Muireann whispered.

“I do,” Finan said, across the table from her.

“Yes, please let us hear this magical song,” Gisela urged, smiling gently at Muireann.

Muireann had looked up to Finan after he spoke. Their gaze was locked once again. The edges of their reality began to blur and sounds became muffled once more.

Cael placed his hand on Muireann’s shoulder, “You will sing it for us, wife.” His words were a command.

Slowly, Muireann took a breath. Her eyes were lowered to her lap. As she began to sing, she closed them. A haunting melody that stilled the commotion in the entire hall. The breezes outside calmed and the waves crashed along the shores. The seals jumped and danced in the spray.

“I see your face across the sea,

you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze,

on the ship out on the ocean”

Slowly Muireann opened her eyes and gazed across the table.

At that moment, Finan knew. He was captivated by this woman. He felt it in every sinew of his being.

She continued to sing closing her eyes or resting their gaze upon Finan.

“Sailing across the sea on a big ship on the ocean

The moon is rising in the East, the stars hang down around her

The bow is arrow to the hearts of the ones we wish to come to home to

But the newly-lit night directs this flight, singing 'The ocean road will guide you.'

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

When I awake I'll cast my anchor down and dive below

I'll dive into my lover's arms and warm the ocean's cold

Across the sea into our homes, we'll meet again so soon

You'll be with me across the sea on the ship out on the ocean

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

I see your face across the sea, you're in the waves surrounding me

I hear your voice call on the breeze, on the ship out on the ocean

On the ship out on the ocean, on the ship out on the ocean”

As Muireann’s gentle and soothing voice fades, so does the spell that held the hall entranced.

“Your voice is a gift, Muireann. Truly. Thank you for singing to us,” Gisela told her.

“Thank you, Lady. I do not often sing for others.” Muireann replies as she returned her gaze down to her lap. Throughout her song, if her eyes were not closed, they were connected to Finan’s.

Just then Cael snored. He had fallen asleep, her song acting as a lullaby. His head rested on the table while his hand still held his ale cup.

Everyone stifled their laughter and then continued to eat and talk.

~~~~~

Slowly, the dinner began to come to an end. Muireann kept sending uneasy glances at her husband. Finally, she stood up and asked to excuse herself.

“My husband will not move until dawn, I am afraid Lord. He is a sound sleeper when drunk. I feel this is a horrible way to ..” but her words had been cut off by Uhtred.

“Think nothing of it, Muireann. He can sleep it off here. I have guards positioned and no harm will come to him.”

“Thank you. If you’ll excuse me then Lord Uhtred. I will retire to the tavern. I would like to rest before we depart in the morning.”

“Of course, lady.”

With that Muireann lifted herself from the table and walked towards the door.

Finan was standing by the doorway speaking with Sihtric before he went home to his family. Sihtric had not missed the intensity between the trader's wife and his friend. He cautioned his friend against making unnecessary enemies.

“You don’t understand, Sihtric. She is in peril.”

“Did she tell you that? We all see that he is an ass. She does not seem happy, but many women are unhappy with their marriage. That does not mean she…”

Sihtric’s words are stopped as Muireann approaches them. Both men have noticed her change in demeanor. She breathed heavily and her eyes kept darting back to the still form of her husband.

“Are you alright, Muireann?” Finan asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Finan, I… No I am…” She took a frantic breath. “No, this may be my only chance.” Muireann said.

“Only chance?” Sihtric questioned.

Muireann glanced at him then down to the ground.

“Cael has something of mine. Something precious.” She drew her eyes up to Finan’s and spoke with more conviction. “He holds it captive. He has never given me even the slightest chance to retrieve it,” She spoke. “But tonight, I will,” She finished.

Finan looks to Sihtric and then back to Muireann. Those eyes like the sea. He was drowning in them.

“We will do what we can to help you.” Finn did not know what to make of her words. “We will do what we can to protect you. Sihtric, keep watch on Cael and I will come with you Muireann.” Sihtric’s mouth had drawn to a tight line. He gave a short nod while looking past Muireann towards her husband.

“Thank you.” She took Finan’s hand.

“Thank you both,” she gave Sihtric’s arm a squeeze.

Then she was past them and speeding to the tavern.

Once they were at the tavern, Finan stood outside her door keeping watch.

He could hear her rummaging through their goods, turning over furniture, looking everywhere. He also heard her speaking to herself frantically, in a language he did not know. After several minutes, she opened the door with tears pooling in her eyes.

“It is not here. It isn’t here” Muireann told him. Her words were distraught.

Finan took her shoulders in his hands. “Hey, hey. I will help ya. I will keep you safe”

Muireann was mumbling to herself. Some words in English and others in that strange foreign tongue. She did not hear him.

Finan grasped her chin gently in his hand and tilted her head to look up at him. “Muireann, , it will be alright. I won’t let him harm you. We will find it.” Finan shifted his palm to cup Muireaan’s cheek. His thumb made gentle strokes along the curve of her face.

Muireann’s eyes brim with unshed tears.

She took a long shaking breath and leaned into Finan’s hand.

“I would have liked to have met you that day on the beach, instead of my husband. I do not think I would mind you holding me.”

“I do not understand. Muireann… help me understand,” Finan voiced with uncontrolled concern. He touched his forehead to hers.

The moment was broken when the two heard Cael screaming in a voice hoarse from ale.

“Muireann...Muireann!”

Muireann took a steadying breath then turned and walked down the stairs and out to meet Cael. He stood outside the tavern, breathing heavy and wavering as if standing on waves.

Sihtric was running towards them attempting to keep himself between Cael and Muireann. He had a large bruise forming around one eye and a small line of blood mingled in his hair under his nose.

“Where were you Muireann?” Cael barked at her. He did not attempt to reach her. The two warriors blocked his path.

When she didn’t answer him, he spoke again. His voice quieter and with more malice.

“Where were you?”

Muireann brought her eyes to meet his gaze. She walked between the warriors and took two more steps towards Cael. Still silent.

By now, Osferth and Uhtred were standing watching the wordless exchange take place as well.

Muireann kept her eyes locked with Cael.

Then he understood.

She was looking for it.

And that was when he made his second mistake that evening. Upon instinct, Cael’s eye could not help but flit towards his carefully selected hiding place, the stables across the square.

Muireann didn’t miss his look. And she remembered him visiting the stables with Uhtred upon their arrival, claiming they may carry on their journey on foot. He must have hidden it there.

Quick as lightening, Muireann had bolted towards the stables. Equally as fast, shocking for someone so drunk, Cael lunged forward and grabbed her arm whipping her back. The back of his hand connected with her cheek with a loud crack.

In the next instant, the men were in action.

Sihtric and Finan restrained Cael but not before Finan placed a few well aimed blows to his gut.

Osferth ran to Muirann’s side and helped her rise to her feet. She brought her hand to her temple and gripped Osferth’s arm to steady herself.

“ I will not tolerate someone to strike a woman in my presence,” Uhtred spoke.

“Just let me take my wife and we will leave. You will need never see us again.”

“I will not leave with you,” Muireann spat.

“You must. I hold you. Your will cannot overcome it” Cael spat back.

“Of what do you speak? You hold her?” Uhtred asked.

“She can never leave me. I …” Cael began.

His words were stopped short as Muireann drew a blade across his throat.

As Uhtred had gathered Cael’s attention from her, Muireann had grabbed the dagger from Finan’s belt.

Sihtric and Finan dropped Cael and the warriors all remained silent.

Muireann panted as she watched Cael’s eyes dull and the life leave his body. She looked up to Finan. As he took a hesitant step towards her, she dropped his knife.

Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, Muireann streaked towards the stables. It was as if she ran for her very life. From the still form of her husband, the warriors. From Finan.

When Muireann reached the stables, she wrenched open the doors and sank to her knees in the first empty stall. Buried underneath the rushes, she found it. A small wooden chest, locked.

Muireann picked up the chest and with the strength of five men, hurled it at the stable wall. The chest, weathered and sea worn, cracked into splinters.

Muireann grabbed the contents and ran towards the river. Her breath was coming in gasps and her motions were frantic. Once she reached the river, she continued along it until she reached a clearing with a small beach.

Muireann had removed her dress and was stepping out of it as she heard Finan approach her from behind. Muireann swung around to face him. He was not alone, but he was the only one her heart could see.

Uhtred, Sihtric, and Osferth had stopped at the bank on the top of the clearing. They allowed Finan to walk towards Muireann. She clutched the contents of the box to her chest. So hard that her knuckles were white. Finally, Finan got within arms reach of Muireann.

He stopped and she stared at him with wide, terrified eyes

Finan held up his hands, “We won’t hurt ya, Muireann. I won’t hurt ya.”

“I know. I meant it when I said I don’t think I would mind if you had a hold on me. If you kept me bound to you.”

“What are you talking about, Muireann. I don’t understand. What did he do to you? What did he keep to bind you to him?” Finan’s voice was desperate for answers. For understanding.

“I will return. Near midsummer’s eve, look for me from the river,” She whispered.

Slowly, Muireann backed away and careful to never lose grip of her precious bundle from the box, she slipped her shift from her shoulders. It fell away and lay at her feet.

She never broke eye contact with Finan.

They all watched her.

Transfixed.

Under her spell.

Muireann walked slowly into the water letting herself glide backwards. She was going home. Her head slipped below the surface and they all waited with baited breath.

A few moments later and slightly closer to shore, a seal broke the surface of the water. The sleek, beautiful creature stared at them all with human eyes. Her gaze lingered the longest on Finan. Then she slipped back under the dark waters and was gone. The seals from the harbor slipped away into the depths to join her.

“A selkie” Finan whispered.

“Was that..?” Sihtric asked. The companions had walked up to stand next to Finan on the shore.

“She’s a selkie.”

Osferth stared at Finan questioningly.

Uhtred answered for his brother. “She is one of the seal folk. Shapeshifters. Seals who can shed their skins to reveal a human form,” he spoke, entranced. None of them could believe what they had witnessed. Uhtred continued, “If a man takes a selkie woman’s skin and keeps it from her, she can never leave him. She can not be without her skin. That is how Muireann’s husband was holding her captive”

“We will see her again, Finan. She will return to you.” Sihtric said. “ She looks at you like my Ealswith looks at me. And how Gisela looks to Uhtred. I noticed it in the hall. She will return.”

“Aye,” Finan said, with tears in his eyes. “And when she does, I will not hold her captive. But I will love her. By the sweet lord, our God, I will love that woman.”

A few notes:

Moodboard is mostly stock photography found on Google/Pinterest. The top left corner is Woman in Tattered Dress by the Stormy Sea by Jill Battaglia. The song in the story is Across the Sea by The Wailin’ Jennys.

Muireann - An irish name meaning "sea white, sea fair". Pronunciation is like the surname of the actress Helen Mirren, but with the spin of a w sound after the initial M.

Cael - An irish name meaning “narrow, slender”. Pronunciation is like kale, the leafy vegetable.

#The Last Kingdom #finan the agile #finan #fanfiction

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