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vanteguccir · 2 months

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All Too Well | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Chris misplace his priorities.

Warning: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.

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Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.

At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.

Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.

At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.

With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.

That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.

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Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.

And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.

"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."

Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.

And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.

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"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."

Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.

"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."

Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.

"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."

Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.

"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"

Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.

"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"

Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.

"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."

Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.

"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.

With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.

"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"

Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.

The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.

And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.

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The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.

His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.

Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.

The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.

As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.

Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.

With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.

On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.

When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.

"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.

Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.

Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.

"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.

Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.

Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.

"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."

Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.

"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.

The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.

"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."

"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.

She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.

"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."

Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.

"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."

Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.

"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."

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My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @sturnsjtop

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lizziela · 1 month

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Instagram AU - Aaron Hotchner and Y/n

Instagram AU with our Boss-man Aaron Hotchner and our darling Y/n!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Y/n

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: date night or date night?

ladypen_garcia: miss girl, you are SPOILED!!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia I know, right??

jjjareau: are those new shoes???

y/n_l/n: @/jjjareau what can I say? he spoiles me 🙃

em_prent: what do you say about wine and girls night??

ladypen_garcia: @/em_prent YEEEEESSS TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!! Who are the handsome guy!!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia 🙈🙈

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: such a cuddlebug

y/n_l/n: such a cuddlebug!!! (and socks thief too)

ladypen_garcia: oh my, is this Bowie??? he is so grown up!!

y/n_l/n: I know!! He isn't so small anymore! 😭😭

em_prent: why is mr. boss cuddling with Bowie??

drreid: @/em_prent I didn't know he liked dogs...

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: another day, another date!

rossidav: the pizza's looking good

y/n_l/n: @/rossidav not as good as yours, but still good!

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n 🤨🤨

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner 🙈

derekm: mama, what are you doing? didn't know you were into arts?

ladypen_garcia: @/em_prent @/jjjareau should we have an emergencial girls night??? why did sir boss answer the comments like this??

em_prent: @/ladypen_garcia you are the hacker of our friendship

ladypen_garcia: @/em_prent and you the profiler

em_prent: @/ladypen_garcia fair

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: my boys

y/n_l/n: OUR boys!!

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n ditto!

ladypen_garcia: THE WORLD IS COLLAPSING WHAT??????

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia what can I say, I love a good Hotchner 🥰🙈

ladypen_garcia: @/y/n_l/n miss girl you owe me some explanation!!!

em_prent: @/ladypen_garcia me 2

jjjareau: @/em_prent me 3

rossidav: finally the cat is out of the box!!!

aarhotchner: @/rossidav took them long enough

derekm: @/aarhotchner talk about them, I knew it all along

ladypen_garcia: @/derekm WHAT??????? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS????

drreid: @/ladypen_garcia Don't worry, Garcia. He didn't know!

So... here we go! Took me long enough to post my first fic/au from CM!

Welcome to my little brain, it is filled with our Boss-man!

Images are from Pinterest!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds au

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augustjustice · 9 months

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Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #i watched the end of season 2 for the umpteenth time this evening #remembered i always wanted a steddie scene parallel to the jopper smoking scene outside the snow ball #and then wrote this in a fevered haze over the past two hours #so apologies for any mistakes and messiness

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astrophileous · 7 months

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Happy birth month to you, Zara!! 🎉

I'd like to request a Derek Morgan x BAU!reader fic (angst, maybe leading to smut) where they are on a bombing case and as usual Derek, being our ever loving and stubborn explosives expert, stays with a target who activated the bomb trigger. Maybe reader is as stubborn as Derek and stays with him and it becomes a thing and all that pent up adrenaline and tension just 🤌🏼🫴🏼 😅

maybe some fluff after too 🥹

Thank you so much love!! Thanks for requesting as well ❤️ I hope you like how this turned out 💕

Warning(s): fem!reader, explosives, profanities, verbal altercation, 18+ nsfw content minors dni, handjob, angry sex (starts out that way at least), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, lmk if I missed anything

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek was beginning to think that the universe was out to get him. It was the only logical explanation he could come up with for the situation he found himself stuck in: standing next to a minivan with an activated bomb underneath its driver's seat. The owner of the car, a woman by the name Pansy, was gripping his hand like a vice, cutting off circulation to it completely, but he couldn't care less about that. Getting blood into his hand was the least of Derek's worries right now.

"How's my baby?" Pansy suddenly asked amidst her tears.

Derek glanced at you, who had been trying to unbuckle the infant from his car seat for the past couple of minutes. One wrong move and the car would explode in the blink of an eye, obliterating everything in its immediate vicinity. This knowledge loomed at the back of your head as you languidly lifted the baby into your arms.

"Got him," you breathed out. You dashed away to take Pansy's son to safety, and despite her not being out of harm's way yet, Derek could feel the tightness of her grip around his hand loosening even if just for the tiniest bit.

Not three minutes later, you came back with a box of tools in your hand. Derek didn't like the grim expression on your face as your gaze flitted his way.

"The bomb squad isn't coming," you muttered.

"What?" Pansy exlclaimed. Even quiet as you were, there was no way you could say anything to Derek without Pansy hearing about it. The woman panicked as her eyes scampered repeatedly between you and Derek. "What are you talking about?"

"Pansy." Derek's voice came with a reassuring squeeze, a silent request for her to calm down. He turned to you again immediately, "What do you mean, they're not coming?"

"Land access is out since the bridge collapsed during the last bombing. They're sending in aerial support, but with everything that's been going on, it'll take at least 30 minutes, which is a time we don't have," you lamented, extending your hand to present the toolbox to Derek's face. "Hotch gave you the go-ahead."

With a curse under his breath, Derek accepted the box with his free hand. You slid in next to him so you could peek into the car.

"Pansy?" Frightened blue eyes scuttered towards your face. Despite the current predicament, you managed to offer her a somewhat genuine smile. "Hey, how are we holding up there? My name's Agent (Y/L/N), I work with Agent Morgan in the FBI. I wanted to let you know that your son is safe. He's with the rest of our team right now."

Pansy hiccuped around a sob. "He's safe?"

"One hundred percent." You nodded. "Listen, Agent Morgan here used to work with the bomb squad. He's gonna defuse the bomb so all of us can get out of here safely. But in order to do that, you need to let go of his hand, okay? Here, you can hold mine instead."

Your last statement caused Derek to turn his head around so fast, you were sure he would have gotten a whiplash. The incredulity was thick in his voice as he asked, "Sweet girl, what are you doing?"

You didn't look at him once. In fact, your eyes were still glued to Pansy's face when you said, "I'm not leaving you."

But Derek knew better.

You weren't saying that sentence to Pansy.

You were saying it to him.

In any other situation, Derek would have admonished you for your stupid decision. But right in that moment, in front of Pansy who was this close to spiraling, and with time completely against his side, Derek couldn't do anything else but relent. Reluctantly, he let go of Pansy's hand and allowed you to take his place. With another deep breath, Derek kneeled next to the car and began to work.

11 minutes and 16 seconds; that was how long it took for Derek to carefully disarm the explosive. Pansy sank into your embrace as soon as Derek removed the device from her seat, bringing it as far away from the crowd as possible as you took the young mother to see her infant son.

After neutralizing the threat, you received word from the rest of your team about the identity of the UnSub. Following a strenuous chase, you eventually closed the day with an arrest, ending the nightmare of the case once and for all. You marked it as a win in your book.

Back at the hotel, everyone scurried to their respective rooms in no time, eager to wash away the residual horror of the case with a cold shower and slept the exhaustion off before the team had to catch an early flight back to Virginia the next morning. You, too, had been dreaming about the plush mattress waiting for your arrival back at your room. But before you could reach the familiar door to your hotel room, your steps halted when warm fingers suddenly encircled your wrist.

"We need to talk," Derek said sharply. He didn't give you a chance to say anything before leading you towards his hotel room.

"What's this about, Derek?" you questioned once the door shut behind Derek's back.

"I can't believe you'd do something reckless like that, (Y/N)."

You frowned at him in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You stayed back knowing there was a bomb! You knew what could've happened. You didn't have to be there, but you stayed anyway. What the fuck, (Y/N)?!"

"That's what this is about?" You scoffed incredulously. "You're mad at me because I did my job?"

"That wasn't part of the job and you know it, sweetheart. You could've been killed."

"I know that! God, you don't think I know that?!"

"You knew? Oh, good! So you knew about the chances of you getting killed in that situation, but you still went ahead and did it anyway. What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I don't need to fucking explain myself to you, Derek." You stepped further into the room, trying to draw as much distance from the man whom you considered your best friend for the past two years of you working with the BAU. His hostility was foreign. You mourned the absence of his usual warmth as you wrapped your arms defensively around your torso. "What about you, anyway?"

"Me?"

"You act as if I was the only one putting themselves in danger, but you were there, too. You could've been killed as well. A little bit hypocritical, isn't it?!"

"That's different."

You rolled your eyes. "Of course it is. Why? Because your hero complex wouldn't allow you to share the stage with anyone else?"

"(Y/N)—"

"Or is it your trust issues that force you to do anything on your own?"

"Stop it—"

"Oh, I get it! Maybe you're no different than those other alpha males out there! Is that it? You want me to leave all the dangerous and scary jobs to the big, strong men—"

"I said, stop it."

A gasp stumbled past your lips when you suddenly found your back connecting with the wall, trapped between the concrete surface and Derek's muscular chest. There was no way to run. Derek's stare was sweltering as it pierced right through your soul.

"Have you always been this insufferable?" Derek growled.

"I don't know. Have you always been this chauvinistic?"

"You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?"

"Well—" you puffed your chest out, leveling your own stare with his unyielding one, "—why don't you make me?"

The atmosphere thickened inside the room.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek had suddenly lunged forward, claiming your lips in a kiss so heated unlike any other you had ever known.

Derek domineered every single one of your senses. Your body only knew his touch as his palms roamed your curves and edges. The kiss was a battle of desperation, a mess of tongue and heaving breaths that span your world off its axis.

When Derek's mouth strayed to your neck, nipping around the spot right below your ear, you swore your bones melted into liquid inside of your body.

"So goddamn aggravating," Derek griped against your ear. "You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?"

"You're just gonna keep talking? Or are you finally gonna put that mouth to a good use?"

The smirk on your lips was wiped away instantly when Derek kissed you again. He maneuvered the two of you towards the bed, where Derek laid you down with a gentleness that contradicted the spite he had shown so far. Clothes were being shed at an inhumane speed, and before long, you found yourself sprawled naked underneath Derek's impressive frame.

Your hand wandered southward as Derek peppered kisses across your chest. The moment your fingers wrapped around his length, Derek's whole body shivered in response.

"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" he muttered.

You continued to pump his shaft, enjoying the melodic sounds Derek was making as your pace grew faster with each second. Mere moments later, however, your movement was halted when Derek's fingers tugged at your wrist.

"Slow down, pretty girl. I wanna be inside of you when I cum."

His declaration was sealed with a kiss.

Using an unbelievable display of strength, Derek then manhandled you to your front, forcing you to rest on all fours as he settled on his knees right behind the sensual curves of your ass.

"Shit. Look at this pussy," Derek remarked crudely. You moaned into the bedsheets when his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, collecting the wetness without ever grazing the number one spot where you needed him the most. "Beautiful, sweetheart. You're so fucking gorgeous."

"You can tell me about how gorgeous you think I am later, Derek. Just shut up and fuck me already."

"Impatient girl." Derek chuckled.

You yelped when his palm landed a harsh slap to each one of your ass cheeks. The sting was chased away instantly by the feeling of Derek's cock prodding around your entrance. The two of you moaned in unison once his length went in, filling every inch of your channel until he was sheathed to the hilt.

As Derek started to move, the lump of arousal in the pit of your stomach increased in size. The drag of his cock felt delicious against your throbbing walls. Derek moved inside of you at a sedulous pace. The grip he had on either side of your hips felt like a promise of fresh bruises that you couldn't wait to wake up to once morning arrived.

With a particularly harsh thrust into your soaking pussy, Derek sent your brain gyrating into the stars.

"Derek, please—ohhh. Feels so good."

"I know, pretty girl. Fuck. Gripping my cock so well, sweetheart. You hear that? Hear how wet you sound?"

You nodded wordlessly, your ears assaulted by the squelching sound of your combined arousal as you pressed your face against the mattress. Derek drove into you even faster, hitting the same spot every single time that had you blabbering incoherently into the sheets.

"D-Derek? I'm—mmpphhh, I'm so close. S-So close... oh fuck."

"Yeah? You're close, sweet girl?"

Derek's arm went around your torso, then, holding you up beneath your breast without ever relenting his movement. His breath tickled your ear in this new position, and you held onto the muscular arm holding you up in fear of collapsing from the continuous strike of pleasure.

"Do you wanna cum, sweetheart? Wanna cum for me?"

"Y-Yes! Please, please, please, Derek. Please, wanna cum so bad."

"Okay." Derek's other hand slid down your abdomen, all the way past your navel, until the rough pad of his fingers found your swolen clit. He began to rub it aggressively, earning a loud cry as you writhed in rapture. "Go on, then, pretty girl. Cum for me. Just let it go, sweetheart."

Your whole body convulsed as you slammed head first into your climax. Derek held you close through it all, stroking your damp skin and whispering sweet nothings as you came down from your high. Not long afterward, his own release caught up to him, pushing Derek to empty everything he had into the warmth of your tender hole.

Once minutes had passed, Derek carefully pulled out from you before gently laying you down on the bed. You were lost too deeply in the post-orgasmic bliss to notice that Derek had disappeared into the bathroom. The fog in your brain only started lifting when Derek returned and spread your thighs apart, using a damp wash cloth to clean up the mess that the two of you made on your upper thighs.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked after he tossed away the cloth, squeezing your thigh affectionately.

"Tired. But good," you answered with a smile. "So... we should probably talk about what just happened, huh?"

Your question caused Derek's shoulders to tense, but he relaxed them again when your fingers reached out for his hand.

"Sorry I yelled at you," he offered sincerely. "You don't know this, pretty girl, but I made a vow to myself a long time ago to protect you. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, I know that. But as long as there's air in my lungs, I will spend every day of my life trying to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

You nodded meekly as your heart constricted in its cage. Derek left a kiss to your knuckles before settling down to lie beside you.

"You're not the only one who made such a vow, Derek," you revealed quietly. "I also made one to myself that I would never drop your hand in the face of danger. I would never abandon you like that. I'd rather give my life than live in a world where you no longer exist."

"Don't say that. You don't mean it."

"But I do. I mean it with all my heart." You stroked Derek's cheek with the tip of your fingers, admiring his handsome face as his eyes stared at you intensely. "Wherever you go, I go, Derek."

"Wherever you go, I go as well," Derek promised, tightening the sanctity of the words with a kiss. "What you did was still stupid, though, so you better never do that again in the future."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we please pause this conversation 'till morning? I'm literally about to pass out right now."

Derek grinned upon hearing your statement. "I fucked you real good, didn't I?"

You punched him on the shoulder. "Asshole."

Derek laughed wholeheartedly before pecking your pouting lips. "Only for you, pretty girl."

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mumms-the-word · 2 months

Text

Gale and Mystra (and Mystra, and Mystra...)

I did a rabbit hole deep dive into this a few days ago and I have Thoughts. Prepare for long/researched explanations (and by researched I mean I read a lot of wikis and scraps of lore books/novels)

So Mystra dies in the Forgotten Realms something like three times (the “official” number is wibbly because there are many writers messing with Forgotten Realms lore and they don’t always agree). She dies in -339 DR, and then again in 1358 DR, and then kind of again a few months later. Allegedly she stayed dead until 1479-1480, which is roughly 12 years prior to the events of Baldur's Gate 3, but didn't get her body back until 1487, which is 5 years before BG3, which takes place in 1492 (if we're going by the Baldur's Mouth Gazette year).

So...what do we do with that and the current popular theory that Gale was groomed as a child?

If it sounds complicated, don't worry, it's more complicated than you think. Welcome to my TEDTalk. More under the cut.

Mystryl, the first goddess of magic (like, ever) dies hundreds of years prior to the events of BG3 during the Karsus/Netheril debacle. Karsus tried to steal her deity/power and succeeded only to realize his mortal body/mind couldn’t contain or control that much power. Mystryl sacrificed herself (her essence, her power) to keep it out of Karsus’s incapable hands. The Weave went wonky for an indeterminate but brief amount of time, during which the floating cities of Netheril crashed to the ground. This happens in -339 DR, over ~1700 years before BG3. Gale tells us a brief version of this story in his standard dialogue. It's also established lore in campaign books.

Mystryl was reborn as Mystra (still in -339 DR), and this Mystra lasted for AGES. This Mystra is the mother of all magic, the Mystra we basically think of as BG3’s Mystra. This is the Mystra that met and claimed Elminster as one of her Chosen (later they became lovers, it's a whole thing).

But this is complicated. Because in 1358 DR…she dies too.

Long story short, for a brief moment, the Overgod Ao forced all gods to walk Faerûn in their mortal avatar forms and denied them entry into heavens (this was called the Times of Troubles, very complicated, the point is, gods were walking the earth as mortals). Mystra decided to fight Helm, the god guarding the stairway into the heavens, and got promptly smote.

Smitten? Smited? Whatever. Helm DESTROYED her. Death #2.

This time, Ao chose a mortal girl named Midnight to replace Mystra. He imbued Midnight, a wizard girl who worshipped Mystra, with Mystra's powers (Mystra conveniently left an amulet behind with some of her power contained within). Incidentally, the Weave didn't die this time like it did the first time. Convenient!

Midnight-Mystra lasts less than a year before Shar and Cyric (god of trickery) kill her and the Spellplague happens. The Spellplague is basically 10 years of magic going haywire and the Weave kind of ceasing to exist. Again. It's complicated.

Ignoring that some Forgotten Realms writers insist the Spellplague didn't happen, BG3 says it DID. One book in BG3 states:

In the infamous, calamitous year of 1385 DR, a conspiracy between the goddess of darkness, Shar, and the god of trickery, Cyric, sought to end Mystra's control over the Weave and influence over the realms by cravenly assassinating her. But instead of merely breaking the goddess of magic's dominance, her death threw the Weave into utter chaos and collapse. Magic spells faltered, or failed entirely. Countless spellcasters were killed or driven insane... Toril would face nearly a hundred years of upheaval before Mystra could return once again, reinstated as goddess of magic in 1480 DR, thanks to the efforts of the legendary wizard, Elminster Aumar and the events of the Second Sundering...

(Curiously Gale’s Countermeasure Abberation at the Netherbrain fight is called Spellplague so...do with that whatever you want. I mean, I know that’s the Countermeasure for ANY wizard in the party but it feels particularly interesting for Gale. Also we're going to ignore the Second Sundering in this post because that's a whole different rant, just know that the Second Sundering means the state of the world and the pantheon of gods basically got soft reset and then locked into place. Which is why it was important for Mystra to return before that happened, or else she would have gotten locked out of returning at all.)

As far as I can tell, between 1385 and 1479, Mystra was silent. Maybe dead, maybe not. There's some suggestion that she existed in the Weave, because other than the Spellplague period, the Weave still existed. The fact that the Weave exists separately from Mystra is important mostly because Shar wants to turn it into the Shadow Weave, which she can't do if Mystra is alive and maintaining control over the Weave. And if Shar can't control the Weave even while Mystra is silent for 100ish years, then...well. Mystra must not be dead-dead.

More importantly than Shar Politics, her being maybe-dead for almost 100 years means she wasn't whispering in the minds of her Chosen the way gods like her normally do. The wikis mention a comic ("Lord of the Darkways") where Mystra spoke directly to Elminster's mind, but that's the only instance before 1479. Mystra was SILENT before 1479...or at least, very, very, very quiet.

So what happens in 1479? Well, long story short, according to the novel Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster travels to a cave where there is a bear carrying some Mystra's remaining essence/power. Why a bear? I have no idea. Point is, she speaks directly to Elminster and confirms that she is, indeed, Mystra. Specifically, she's pre-Midnight Mystra and also...changed into a newish Mystra.

This is some of what Elminster thinks/says when he's speaking with her and notices she's guarding some artifacts:

“Ye collected these things when ye were Midnight?” El blurted, trembling in a sudden chaos of wanting to know so much, yet not knowing what he dared ask. Her love—or at least fondness—was in his head and all around him, but something was subtly different in it, a distance that had not been there once, or rather one that had grown since Midnight had ascended to replace the Mystra his far younger self had first touched and tasted. Gone was the Mystra whose mind would long ago have merged with his to let them converse wordlessly, thoughts flashing.

Bear!Mystra has been guarding things that Midnight!Mystra collected, things that were important to Mystra!Mystra. Confusing, I know. So who is this current Mystra, speaking to Elminster as a bear? This is the Mystra that would then go on to become lovers with Gale.

Now, I'd argue it's basically all the same Mystra. There was Mystryl and then there was Mystra in her many forms. The Mystra that become lovers with Elminster when she selected him as her Chosen 1300 years ago is the same Mystra that took Gale as a lover too—even if she's died and transformed a couple of times.

It’s worth noting that the novels also sort of mingle all the Mystras into one. In the next novel, Elminster Enraged, when another character called the Simbul (another Chosen of Mystra who is also Mystra’s daughter) is speaking with Mystra, they talk about how Mystra has memories both of previous Mystras and of several Chosen. When the Simbul asks if Mystra can sense her current Chosen, Mystra confirms that she can sense her daughters and Elminster.

“Wasn’t that the Mystra before you?” The Simbul dared to ask. Echoes in the Weave, my daughter, echoes in the Weave…we see and feel so much that happened before us, in the Weave; it becomes part of us, the memories of the Mystra who birthed you becoming part of me, so I become that Mystra…

Anyway. Mystra is Mystra. Basically the same Mystra she's been since the fall of Netheril. Why does that matter? Well.

When Elminster is talking to bear-Mystra, she gives him a command: “I charge you to preserve magic wherever and whenever you can” and also; “Recruit new Chosen and gather them here for me to confer with. I need many, and they must be different from my daughters and from each other…and above all, I must have those I can trust.”

Okay, granted, this specific command probably doesn't apply to Gale. Gale never talks about being gathered as Chosen to help usher in Mystra's return. Remember, she's gathering Chosens so she can restore herself to godhood before Ao clicks the "Save" function on his universe post-Second Sundering. That's what this command is referring to.

Elminster does end up choosing several potential Chosen for Mystra (plus he goes on to steal a whole bunch of magic and gives it to Mystra to restore her back to godhood; this happens at the end of Elminster Enraged). Elminster spends part of Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster Enraged, and The Herald (three back-to-back novels) gathering Chosen or...well, killing corrupt Chosen and stealing their power to give back to Mystra. Mystra begins speaking into the minds of those who worship her in Elminster Enraged (around 1480) and the end of that novel has her appearing as a very grand spirit type of lady, but she's only seen restored to her actual corporeal goddess body at the end of The Herald, which is set in 1487.

So what does this have to do with Gale??

Simple. I have two theories.

Theory 1: Larian just ignores timelines and maybe wanted to create a new grooming narrative for Gale

Listen, Larian has a ton of writers and not every writer can be expected to maintain ALL of the lore Ed Greenwood and other writers wrote for the campaign books and novels. The Forgotten Realms is like 40+ years old. It's been through every iteration of D&D rules. Mystra dies every time the Wizards of the Coast revamps their magic rules, to the point where Ed Greenwood literally had Elminster say, in one of his novels, “I think Mystra’s fall was part of a cycle fated to happen again and again, as the Weave—as all magic of this world—needs renewal.” Elminster fourth-wall calls out a "fated cycle" that is just WOTC remixing magic rules.

Hell, maybe Larian knew that and wanted Gale to be part of the next cycle of Mystra-death-and-rebirth. Raphael certainly suggests something similar if Gale ascends to godhood and plans to usurp Mystra. That's a rant for a different post.

Anyway. Point is, it's a lot of lore, and a lot of it contradicted itself before Larian ever got their hands on it. The writers knew enough to know that Mystra picks Chosens all the time and that she's been known to be lovers with her Chosens. They probably took that and ran with it. Gale was chosen by Mystra and become lovers with her and the timelines don't matter, and maybe there are hints that Mystra groomed him as a kid. Maybe Larian just ignored Ed Greenwood's lore that Mystra didn't speak to any of her followers until like 12 years before the game. That's fine!

But if that theory doesn't seem to vibe, consider theory 2 (which for the purposes of this analysis suggests Gale is a cool 35 for convenient math):

Theory 2: Gale didn't actually hear or meet a corporeal Mystra until he was a consenting adult (NOTE: this does not necessarily mean he wasn't groomed)

Brief timeline, again.

1385, Mystra and Midnight both die and anything resembling a goddess of magic goes silent for nearly 100 years. Early 1400s? Elminster hears Mystra's voice but she's otherwise silent for everyone else 1479, Elminster meets Bear!Mystra, begins finding other Chosen of Mystra and gathering power for Mystra 1480ish, Elminster restores power to Bear!Mystra and she Officially Returns (but like, quietly and we still haven't seen her body, she seems to be just spirit and stardust) 1487, Mystra now has a body because she does this Big Reveal at the end of The Herald by entering a room where five of her Chosen are

If Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 30 when she "officially" had a body again, and 23 when she begins speaking to her Chosen (or those who worship her more broadly) after a century of silence.

Obviously this theory breaks the current ongoing theory that Mystra revealed herself to Gale when he was 8, or at least a young child. However, does the game really support that theory either? Elminster's letter to an ascended God!Gale only says:

Do you recall the day we first met, m’boy? You could have been no more than eight summers’ old, clutching your mother’s apron…

He doesn't say anything about telling Gale that he is a Chosen at the age of 8 or that Mystra personally has an interest in him. Maybe Elminster was just wandering around and met Gale, or perhaps someone wrote to Elminster to tell him there's an exceptionally talented mage boy that he should meet. Elminster doesn't tell us the circumstances of the meeting, so we'll never know. The one thing we do know is that Elminster has known about Gale since Gale's childhood. There's just nothing in his letter proves that Mystra was actively speaking to Gale when he was 8, or even telling Elminster to choose Gale that young.

Keep in mind, if Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 8 in 1465, well before Elminster had gotten the charge to maintain the Weave and select new Chosens for Mystra.

Then of course we have Minsc's comment that:

While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

I want to point out that this idea that the Rashemi people hide Weave-touched boys from Mystra's sight is completely new lore. Ed Greenwood explained a bit of how he views vremyonni boys/men being secluded in a series of tweets from 2020. Basically, because a wychlaran (female witch) is also a kind of ruling/religious class in the Rashemi culture, male spellcasters create a power imbalance, especially because they have access to more powerful spells than the female spellcasters. To combat this, male spellcasters are hidden away to avoid political imbalance and end up serving as enchanters/weaponsmiths for the wychlarans. Or they leave and become wizards elsewhere.

The idea that the Rashemi hide the boys away to either a) protect them from Mystra's icky amorous tactics or b) protect their communities from Mystra encouraging grand, destructive ambition in their menfolk, is probably unique to BG3 alone...and that's if we can take what Minsc says at face value.

Can we?

Minsc proves time and again he doesn't think much of wizards. The only thing he likes about Gale is that he can explode. I think he mistrusts male spellcasters in general because of his culture. So his comment could just be Minsc taking a jab at Gale while also not accurately representing his culture (possibly by offering an explanation that he just hasn't thought through all that thoroughly).

The fact that he says "young and prideful boys" is curious, regardless. Does he view Gale as a boy, because Gale is technically younger than Minsc by several decades thanks to Minsc being a statue for a while? Is it derogatory? Is it a remark to say that Gale's ambition is a bit juvenile, as wizard ambitions tend to be? Who knows. Minsc's dialogue isn't always as surface-level as it appears.

So...was Gale groomed?

I guess that depends on your definition of grooming. Adult-to-adult grooming is absolutely a thing. It's a cycle of manipulation, isolation, and gaslighting that leaves one person, the victim, in a twisted, unequal relationship with their abuser. So, yeah, Gale absolutely was groomed by his goddess. Point blank. Period. She rewarded his magical talent with sexual/emotional intimacy. He responded with love, intimacy, adoration, etc., that she was incapable of reciprocating as his equal, because of her power of authority over him (over all wizards) yet she used it to her advantage, and then tossed him aside when it became inconvenient for her. Absolutely she groomed him, and she's an abuser.

But if we're merging Forgotten Realms lore and timelines with BG3 timelines, then our understanding of Gale's perspective of all this shifts a little. Instead of a child chasing after a goddess who is stringing him along, it becomes Gale, the child prodigy, desperately trying to understand magic in a world where the goddess of magic is silent, possibly dead, and the Weave is trying to repair itself after a devastating Spellplague a few decades earlier. It becomes Gale in his teens, not understanding why the others think he's so odd for burying himself in his studies to impress a goddess who might not even care, if she's even alive. It becomes a young adult Gale overwhelmed with awe at the first rumors that Mystra might finally, finally be back, and hearing her voice for the very first time. It becomes Gale, in his late twenties, finally staring into the face of his goddess, someone he's had blind faith in before he even knew for certain she was capable of hearing his prayers. It becomes mid-thirties Gale, who has grown up with a patchwork Weave and a missing goddess, plotting to restore even more power to her by finding an elusive bit of errant Weave and making the biggest mistake of his life. It becomes a story of Gale who probably looked forward to the return of Mystra with so much awe and longing, only to be used and cast aside by her within a dozen years of her return to godhood.

No wonder he felt that godhood was not only well within his grasp, but that he could be a more deserving kind of god.

It's not a perfect theory, and a lot of Gale's dialogue suggests he was a young man, probably early 20s, when he began an intimate relationship with Mystra. He also implies that she spoke to him for some time before they ever became intimate. He describes her first as the Mother of Magic, and then his teacher, and then his muse, and then his lover. So what are we to believe?

Well...that's the frustrating beauty of D&D and Forgotten Realms and Baldur's Gate I guess. The lore is wibbly wobby and malleable. You do what you want with it.

#long post #bg3 #bg3 lore #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale dekarios #fandom discourse #bg3 discourse #in this essay i will #who let me do this to myself tbh

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mshroom1e · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could i request Ortho finding out that Idia's online friend and eventually crush is the reader? And eventually he tries to matchmake them?

Hello!! Sorry for disappearing for a whole 2 weeks 💀 I've been busy with life and I ended up writing this fic way longer than I ppanned to. I hope you don't mind! Also, I got really stuck on some parts and wasn't sure which direction to go with the story. Apologies if it feels a little rushed.

Pr0ject Cupid | Idia x GN! Reader

type: fanfic

Summary: A pair of painfilly awkward people get set up by a member of the said pair's little brother.

5.8k words

tags: silly fluff, mutual crushing

Warning(s): very mild swearing

no way u acc saw me

bruh i couldve seen you with my eyes closed

you dumbass u just contradicted yourself

no shit

im gonna shave your eyebrows

...

Idia stifled a laugh and couldn't hide the cheesy grin that grew on his face as his eyes read over the pixelated letters on his monitor. About 3 weeks ago, he met you on a random server, and you instantly clicked. He wasn't one to form bonds with people so quickly, whether it was online or in person, but with you, how could he resist?

You got along like Q and W on a keyboard, plus you always reciprocated his nerdy comments and never got the wrong idea about any of his intentions. The only problem was, however, that you had no idea who each other were irl.

So, one day, Idia got curious about who you really were. He ended up searching for you on Magicam using the username he knew you by. There wasn't really much he was expecting as people usually used different names for their social media compared to the more nerdy online stuff.

Idia nearly fell out of his chair when a search result popped up, and a profile with quite a few posts showed up. It was you. There was no way it wasn't you.

His heart began beating faster than usual just at reading your captions, posts of your random thoughts, and the pictures you posted. You were definitely cute, maybe the prettiest person Idia had ever seen. Even though your facial features were pixelated, you somehow managed to make them look soft and warm, like an angelic version of yourself. There were also many pictures of foods you made in the Ramshackle Dorm, selfies with your friends, and a few pictures with Grim.

Okay, now Idia was panicking. He'd never felt the way he felt right now, but from the way his heart was running a marathon and he could feel warmth slowly creeping up his face, there was only one explanation. The description matched how the characters in dating sims would feel, and this was bad. He couldn't have a cru- no no no, a c-word. No way! He didn't even want to think of the word because it would only solidify his predicament in his head.

From his panic, his finger slipped and accidentally liked one of your posts. Idia's eyes widened as he saw the damage he'd already done as his brain went into full panick mode. There was no way to undo it, even if he un-liked the post. The notification must've already gotten to your phone and you would've noticed most likely and you'd block him, think he was a stalker and never speak to him again then he'd be become even more emo and-

He changed from his usual question mark posture in his chair to sitting in a fetal position in the corner of his room, hoping for the atoms in his body to slowly merge into the wall.

His phone in his pocket vibrated, and when Idia pulled out the device to see what the notification was, his heart nearly collapsed on itself. A flinch of his arm caused his phone to be launched across his room, and for some reason, he jumped to catch it, landing on a large, disorganised pile of manga with a loud crash. He hastily unlocked his phone to see what the alert was.

'Your EP has been restored!'

Damn.

There was a smooth sliding of the door to Idia's dorm room. Ortho stood? floated? levitated? at the entrance with a confused, yet worried expression in the visible part of his face.

"Idia? I heard a loud crash, and I was worried you got injured," Ortho floated closer to his brother.

"I'm f-fine!" Idia yelped.

'Hair tinted pink, increasing heart rate, flushed cheeks,'

Ortho's eyes drifted over to Idia's several monitors until he focused on a certain one.

"Yuu's Magicam profile?"

The little robot pieced two and two together before he said, "Oh, you like [Name], don't you?"

This was a really, really, really bad idea...

Idia's internal panick only escalated as he was dragged walking through campus with Ortho. Leaving his dorm room usually resulted in a one-sided fight for his life as every dialogue scene he had with another person besides his brother was set to hard mode by default.

Speaking with you in person was the best way to get to know each other better, Ortho would say. The problem was, Idia knew that you didn't know who he was, so it would probably be strange to suddenly have him speaking to you.

He was lost in his panicky thoughts when he felt someone bump into him, and he felt his body tipping back. (So unique and never seen before, I know.)

A hand quickly grabbed his wrist, hoisting him back upright. Ortho sent you a beaming smile with his eyes before quickly disappearing and leaving you alone with his brother, leaving the beanstalk to fend for himself.

Idia's heart nearly flipped in his stomach as he met your eyes. You let go of his wrist when he regained his balance, he almost fell over again.

"Careful," you smiled.

In his eyes, you looked like a panel from a manhwa where the love interest was introduced with flowers, sparkles, and glitter radiating around them.

"S-sorry," He managed to spit out, somehow sounding cohesive.

"It's okay, I just hope you didn't get hurt, I tend to grab onto stuff a little too tightly," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

Your laugh. Idia's ears felt blessed with such a delicate angelic sound. Like bells chiming in his ears, more harmonic than the songs from his favourite idol group's no.1 album. His heart was sent into overdrive, and he couldn't take it anymore and decided on the most rational option in his currently mushy brain.

To run.

So he ran.

You watched his retreating form with a fond look before you turned to face Ortho, who hid in a nearby bush and sent him a thumbs up.

This was progress, at least.

- A few days ago -

You had a crush on Idia. A huge one at that. There was no debate. You didn't even bother denying it.

You knew he rarely left his dorm room, so you barely saw him during the day. Seeing a flash of flamey blue hair dart around a corner just before you could fully get a look at the twitter logo-coloured candle always managed to make your heart squeeze and an undefeatable grin etch itself on your face.

Of course, a few days into talking to your new online friend, you already knew of his true identity but chose not to inform him of the fact. From what you'd seen on campus, he was the type of person to prefer engaging with others through the comfort of a screen rather than conversing face to face. And honestly, you couldn't blame him at all. It must've felt so stifling to always be conscious of the way you carried yourself, while choosing words carefully to not offend the person in front of you or make them think badly of you while simultaneously looking like a sane, functioning person.

So, you talked to him like an online friend would. After a few days of getting to know each other through public servers and direct messaging, you soon shared your interests and found common ground in a few of them. For example, you both were addicted to gacha games with diabolocal pity systems. He also started to open up to you, though you thought it was a little fast, but people tend to share a lot when speaking to someone through pixels on a screen as they felt more at home. He talked about his struggles when interacting with people and his constant anxiety about how people perceived him.

Being someone of minimal social intelligence, the most you could do was offer some general words of comfort about how everyone was different in their own way and some people are just more advantaged in certain aspects of life, social interaction being one of them.

As your feelings grew, you couldn't help but feel like your relationship was a little one-sided. You knew who exactly you were talking to, but as far as Idia knew, he was talking to and building a relationship with a person who could've been miles and miles away and he also barely knew who [Name] was.

Man, this really sucked.

- Yesterday -

Ortho was smart. It was only obvious since his mechanical brain had the efficency of a computer with infinite RAM. He knew his brother had met a new friend online, which explained his less gloomy aura and his anxious glances at his phone whenever they were in his room together.

It didn't take long for Ortho to learn that the person Idia was talking to also attended the same school. In his mind, he viewed finding out things about you as a way to further protect his older brother from harm.

Fast forward to later that day, Ortho cornered found you in the courtyard after you'd lost a bet with Grim and had to buy him a drink from a nearby vending machine.

He called out to you enthusiastically as he practically teleported to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Long story short, Ortho figured out how you felt about Idia, and he was over the moon. His brother finally had someone who he could happily spend time with, and he couldn't be happier for him. He knew Idia better than anyone, and it was certain that getting close to Idia in face-to-face terms would take a lot for him to get used to and he decided it would be best to slowly ease your way into making conversations with him without being forceful or overwhelming him.

Thus began your joint conspiracy to rizz up get to know Idia better.

- Present -

It took about a day for you to come to the conclusion that you'd most likely never see Idia during school hours whether he was on campus or not. Your schedules were so unmatched that it was ridiculous. When you had a lesson in the alchemy labs, he'd be in a P.E lesson and when you were in the history of magic, he'd be in some classroom that might as well be at the other side of Sage's Island.

Luckily for you, Ortho informed you about Idia's current whereabouts. He was in the Board Game Club's classroom, probably playing- you guessed it- board games. It felt like some sort of secret stealth mission, plotting where to catch Idia with Ortho so sneakily. You just hoped that this silly plot would work.

Now that you were in front of the clubroom's door, you had no idea what to do. Your brain already left your body shortly after your heart that was beating a mile a minute and had long since jumped out of your chest to who knows where. You'd worked so hard to get to this point (not really) and now that you were here, what were you going to do?

Showing up at his clubroom unannounced totally sounded like stalker behaviour from some poorly written fanfic, and you definitely were not about that life. What if you just entered casually? Did you have a friend in the board game club? Probably not since you didn't even know the names of the people in your homeroom class, save for Adeuce and Grim.

Deciding to swallow your nerves and whatever other anxiety that was clogging your airways, you calmly slid open the door. Surprisingly, the club had quite a few members present, but it wasn't too densely populated. Your eyes immediately lit up when familiar floaty blue flames caught your attention. He was alone on a table next to one of the room's walls. His usual board gaming partner, Azul, was nowhere to be seen. It was safe to assume he was somewhere exploiting some poor unfortunate soul of all their mortal possessions with his buy-one-get-one-free pair of henchmen.

You approached Idia, more nervous than a turkey the day before Thanksgiving. He noticed you and almost jumped out of his own skin.

Was he dreaming? If not, why else would you show up at the board game club? Before he knew it, he started to sweat. Every step you took closer to him made his poor heart run laps. The confident (Idia's POV. This does not accurately reflect current events.) stride in your step, and the smile you gave him as you approached made his face heat up, and the tips of his hair grow warmer. His flight- please there is absolutely no fight- instinct almost took over as he considered running out of the room at full speed.

There was no Ortho to help him communicate if he ended up having to talk to you. He was all alone for this pop-up Pokemon battle.

A random board game caught your eye, and you picked it up, deciding to use it as a shield to not let your conversation get stabbed in the chest by the painful spear called awkwardness.

"Hi, Idia." You said casually with your usual grin. 'Great start'

You failed to catch Idia's mortified expression as it disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. To his surprise, you didn't seem to mind his silence and just sat down in the chair across from his.

"Sorry to bother you," you continued, "If you want me gone, just say the word." The second part was intended to be lighthearted as you let out a low chuckle after you were done talking.

He quickly scrambled into his bag and pulled out a slim, grey tablet, and began to type.

"I don't mind you being here at all, [Name]." A voice from the device's speakers that sounded too much like Idia's said. You weren't all too shocked since you'd seen him use it around school a few times and had even seen the thing floating around campus by itself. You'd just never have a conversation with "it".

"Woah, is that a voice program?Did you make it yourself? I've only seen it being used for vocaloids, and even those mess up a few times. Did you use a sample of your voice? Is everything prerecorded? If you-" You blurted out, quickly smacking a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up before you could ramble any further.

Great job, [Name].

Idia's eyes lit up with surprise at your words as he quickly started typing something on his screen. His features moulded into a proud smirk, "Yeah, it's made with a sample of my voice. I made it using a vocaloid as a reference."

"Really?!" You almost jumped out of your seat, eyes practically shining with stars. Gosh, he really was so cool.

He nodded frantically as the tips of his firey hair faded into a warmer hue. Students in his dorm had the same base interests as he did. However, he was almost always too nervous to initiate a conversation with any of them. But with you, the nervousness he felt didn't try to suffocate him for once and instead felt like a sweet, comfy flutter in his chest.

"I found this when I walked into the room, and it looked fun. Wanna play?" Your short exchange feuled you with a little more confidence as you built the courage to ask him to play a board game with you.

You hadn't even looked at the game's cover before picking it up. Imagine your surprise at finding out you'd picked up "Monopoly Bass Fishing Edition".

Great job.

Now, Idia probably saw you as some weird fish-obsessed kid (no offence to Octavinelle) who probably looked up how to make bass fishing bait in their spare time. The cover was hideous. A massive bass fish was in the middle, surrounded by loops of smaller bass fish all saying things in speech bubbles where the letters were modelled to look like bass fish. To top it all off, there was a massive glittery title in the colour of neon orange that said, "Monopoly: Bass Fishing Edition." Underneath in equally as eye tormenting sentence bordered off by a wiggly pink line that read "Get ready to be schooled!" Get it? Coz groups of fishes are called schools-

This was going to be painful.

You liked to think you knew all the rules of Monopoly by heart. Especially after seeing relationships crumble over the neverending board game.

Idia didn't seem phased, so you assumed he already knew the rules of the game, too.

You played for a bit, taking turns to roll a double to see who could start first. The first to roll a double was eventually Idia, so he took the first turn.

You knew Idia was competitive from the way he would obliterate the opposition during your online meet-ups in matches. What you didn't expect was to end up going bankrupt after only a few loops around the board. It took a while for you to accept defeat, but after seeing the small, triumphant smile that gently made its way onto Idia's face, any loss was worth it.

Now that you looked around the room, most of the board game club members had long since departed, and it was only you and your blue-haired friend left in the room. A blanket of quiet and slight awkwardness fell over the two of you as you both looked at anything but each other.

"We should uh, but the pieces away," you suggested.

He looked at you, a little surprised at your sudden breach of silence, before he quickly nodded. "R-Right."

After stiffly putting the pieces away, occasionally flinching when the tips of your fingers made contact as you passed some game pieces between yourselves, there wasn't much else for you to do despite twiddling your thumbs. From an outsider's point of view, the aftermath was painfully awkward as neither of you had anything to say. Sitting in silence wasn't always a bad thing, but come on.

Your brain frizzled as you tried to think of something, anything to say to start a conversation.

"Nice weather we're having today." So creative.

As if the universe was saying a big "f*ck you", there was a loud rumble of thunder outside the window before massive raindrops began to smack on to the grass and pavement outside, each with a louder 'plap!' than the previous one each time.

Idia giggled before trying to hold back a laugh, which eventually turned into even more giggles. You stared at him for a few seconds, stunned. You hadn't actually heard him laugh before as he always looked so terrified around you. Sure, he was laughing at your stupidity, but this was a start, right?

It didn't take long for you to join in, laughing at yourself too.

Maybe coming to his clubroom on impulse wasn't so bad after all.

"Sam's store is releasing this SSR-tier set of trading cards today, and I have to go get it," Idia muttered to himself as he scurried down a hallway of the Ignihyde dorm. "No one's gonna that early, especially since it's not gonna attract any normies-"

"But what if there's a whole mob of NPCs there? Worst case scenario is a few of them showing up to do some early morning shopping, so grabbing what I need and skidadling outta there is gonna be ez."

Ortho was most likely in his room resting at this hour, so Idia decided not to bother him. Besides, it was only a trip to the school store. He should be fine, right?

Wrong.

It was not ez peasy.

It just happened to be that the same day Idia's treasured ultra rare cards were released on the same day as Sam's new mystery drink that the whole school went crazy for. By the time Idia was about to leave the store after paying for what he came for, the whole area was packed, and it was almost impossible to move. Waves of students rushing to the till after grabbing a bottle of the new beverage washed over the store grounds.

People, people, people, and more people. Sweaty teenagers seemed to fight tooth and nail just to get their hands on a bottle. It was like the kids from the UK when Prime was launched. (iykyk) Everywhere he turned, he seemed to bump into another 3 people and get elbowed by another five. The sheer power of the crowd almost swept him off his feet, and he felt himself being dragged to the opposite direction from where he was headed. He reached his hand out to grab at something, while the other held his cards close to his chest, but there was nothing to hold onto for support. The only option was to become one with the crowd.

As he was about to give up and accept his fate, his outstretched hand was tugged on by a familiar, gentle yet firm grip, which felt like he was being pulled ashore after drifting off into the ocean. Idia's body was pulled upright and into a much less crowded space. A pleasant warmth spread across his chest as he saw the face of his saviour.

A part of him felt mortified while the other felt relieved. He was glad to have been pulled out of the sea of people, but he felt a little lame to have to have been saved by someone else, as if he couldn't handle himself. Another reason, the more obvious one, was because it was you. In his point of view, you always showed up at random times and ended up helping him without realising how much of an impact your actions held.

"I'm getting this feeling of deja vu," you smiled, leading Idia to a bench opposite the store.

"You helped me again-" Idia muttered, his eyes downcast.

You tilted your head, a little confused, "Hm?"

"N-No, it's not that I have a proble-" He cut himself off, "I, um-"

How did he manage to talk himself into a corner like this? Trying to talk to you felt like a puzzle with the myriad of emotions all rushing through his head at once, and he was bound to mess up somewhere.

"Don't sweat it," you responded. Your smile unwavering.

For whatever reason, Idia's anxious jumble of words never phased you. Your willingness to let him take his time when talking to you gave him a sort of confidence, and he could hope to speak with confidence that he didn't even know he was capable of.

A ray of reflected early morning sunlight that bounced off the shiny packaging of what Idia held securely in his hands and it caught your eye.

"Is that (insert game reference here)?!" Your voice cracked as you said the name of the franchise.

The mood was instantly lightened at your change in focus, and Idia felt himself get giddy. He was so happy to share a conversation with someone who wasn't a so-called "normie."

His excitement faded though, a bit, when he looked up to find that you looked slightly disappointed. You looked at Idia in confusion, but shrugged.

You sighed, looking away.

Why were you disappointed? Was it something he did? Oh no, what if you thought he was lame for getting trapped in a crowd like that, and you actually thought he was such a bother the whole time-

"I still haven't managed to get my hands in a copy," you frowned.

"Oh," He sounded stunned, which confused you. "Um, I-" He swallowed, fighting the urge to pull his hood over his head and hide.

"I mean-" Idia's eyes seemed to glance at everything and everywhere other than at you.

His breath caught in his throat, and the feeling multiplied by a gazillion when he saw Ortho watching him from behind a tree. He almost choked on whatever air he'd just managed to inhale into his trachea.

To make matters worse, Ortho held a cute but terrible made neon blue glittery banner that said, "Talk to them, Idia!!!"

Wasn't he resting?

The poor nerd (affectionate) wanted to evaporate on the spot.

"What were you about to say?" You asked, not seeing the silliness behind you.

Idia glanced back and forth between you and Ortho, wishing with every single bone in his body that the 50/50 gacha in front of him right now would go his way and you wouldn't turn around at all.

Imagine his horror when you followed his worryingly mortified gaze, and he saw our eyes widen a fraction, and you slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Ortho?"

He panicked for a good few seconds before he did what he did best and bolted away from you with a stubborn blush creeping up his neck.

"Huh?Wait up!" You called after him, but it was futile.

Ortho soon waved happily at you as he followed Idia back to what you assumed was the Ignihyde dorm.

"Where did you-" Idia began, speedwalking to the Hall of Mirrors with more agility than he knew his G-fuel filled body could possess.

"I did some research, and it showed that people your age have a 60% more chance at talking to someone they like when they're encouraged by someone else!" Ortho chirped with the certainty of the sun rising in the east.

"I'm not- It's not-" Idia couldn't find the words to use to retort at his younger brother. The way his sunny amber eyes shimmered with glee was enough to punch the words of protest that Idia could ever muster right down the drain. "J-Just tone it own a notch next time..." He finished with a small frown.

"Okay!" Ortho sang, floating into Ignihyde's mirror after the older Shroud.

Idia signed and pulled the strings of his hoodie tighter to conceal his face more. Now that you were somewhat aware of how he felt about you, he had no idea how to face you the next day.

It had been over a week, and you'd gotten no contact from Idia or Ortho. It was safe to assume that Idia probably didn't leave his room a single time in that time frame. A metaphorical banner was built between you as he had practically gone AWOL on everything you could use to contact him. So, you couldn't even talk to him with your online persona and try to understand how he felt by hoping he'd confide in his online bestie even a little. Not that you wanted to intrude on his privacy, but the fact that things seemed to be falling apart between you two before you properly even got to know each other hurt a lot more than th fact that you convinced yourself of- the fact that it looked like he didn't want to see you again. You sighed, closing your computer.

This was pointless. No doubt, he doesn't feel the same way towards you, and you really should start accepting it. Maybe he thought you were strange? Or it was creepy that you always seemed to be around when he was in trouble? Maybe he thought you were a stalker? He'd probably figured out your online identity and blocked you, hence the lack of activity on any of his accounts over the last week and a bit.

But you couldn't accept it. Not until you know more, and you don't think it'll help if you keep prying at the subject, especially since it won't do any good in the end. It was useless to keep trying. You grabbed your phone and checked the screen for any messages, but there were none. You put it back on the nightstand and turned on your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You lay there for what felt like forever and eventually fell asleep.

Morning soon arrived, and you woke up to a series of knocks at the main door of Ramshackle Dorm. The quick thuds of knuckles striking wood resounded throughout the whole bottom floor of the building, probably enough to alert your cat roommate out of his venture into Dream Land.

The perpetrator was definitely unexpected. It was a fine weekend, and you hadn't been expecting a visit from anyone at all, especially not the younger Shroud brother.

Rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn as you opened the door, you had to squint to see something else other than a mop of flickering blue and a white block.

"Ortho?" You blinked. Your statement sounded more like a question to yourself than to the other party.

"Good morning!" Ortho said cheerfully, waving with one arm while balancing an assortment of books and various games under the other. He was carrying four plastic bags full of stuff, including a large bowl with some cereal, milk, eggs, toast, fruit, and orange juice inside it.

"Err..." you replied.

"We came to hang out!" Ortho cheered, which confused you even more.

"What? And who's 'we'??" You questioned all at once, not even knowing where to begin.

"Idia wants to apologise for running away from you for the past week. He said he's really sorry and did it because he was scared," he rambled on with his usual cheery tone and pointed to a nearby tree, "And we brought food!"

Behind said tree stood said Idia, holding onto the tree's bark with a grip for dear life while only the top half of his face peeked out.

What.

- Flashback to earlier -

"Now, what do I do? This is demon mode difficult- I'd rather fight Absolute Virtue from the original release of FF11 all over again for 16 hours straight than face them again... Can I get an F in the chat for this one..." Idia mumbled to himself in a string of incomprehensible gibberish as he sat in a fetal position at the corner of his room while his hood covered his entire head, and he rocked back and forth.

"This is the worst-"

"Cheer up, Idia!" Ortho handed him a charger, "You can always talk to them online if it helps!"

"At this point, they've probably forgotten about me. People's online friends get Men in Black'ed from their brains all the time. I'll just look like some weird guy that goes,'Hey kids!wanna to get free RAM for your computer?' or something-" his rampant thoughts only dug him further into his self-made pit of despair.

"Hmm," Ortho pondered, "Let's go see them!"

"Are you kidding?! No way!" He shook his head rapidly and started rocking himself even faster, "If they don't see me, maybe they'll even forget I exist and I can become one with the void..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Idia. We can go see them right now!" Ortho hovered around, gathering a bunch of gaming equipment and books, "Hanging out like friends will get rid of any tension in the air!"

"No!" Idia protested, but it was too late.

He'd already been picked up by a robotic arm, and off they went.

"That's pretty much what happened," Ortho recalled as you lead the pair the lounge.

"Right... But I still don't get how that means he's sorry..." You muttered.

"Why don't you tell them, Idia?" Ortho looked at his brother, "I'll leave you two to talk here while I make some snacks!"

The older Shroud twiddle his fingers and stared at the floor, his hood still covering his head.

It took a few seconds of silence before Idia began talking.

"Uh," he spoke quietly and cleared his throat twice before proceeding, "I was so stupid."

"Huh?" You said, gaping at Idia.

"I know I've done stupid things, but this was beyond stupid. Like, way too stupid! Noob at Subway Surfers level of stupid!" He babbled on, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.

He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself. His hair turning pink. "I kept telling myself it was okay for us to keep being friends online even though I found your Magicam page and accidentally liked one of your posts and knew who you were but you didn't know who I was and I felt guilty and then you suddenly showed up then I realised I l-l-like you and then that thing at the shop happened and you probably thought it was so cringe-"

Then it clicked. So he thought you thought he was weird? He didn't hate you.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your chest.

Then, you chuckled, snickered, giggled, then let out waves of laughter. Idia stared at you, dumbfounded.

"This whole time, haha, I thought I was the one who did something wrong."

"No! You didn't," He quickly jumped in.

"Wait, you just said that you like me...?" You pointed to yourself, and you felt your face grow warm.

Silence landed like a wall of pure steel between the two of you.

He gaped at you with wide eyes. Dang it! He seriously didn't mean to blurt that part out loud. Curse him and his tendency to blab everything he thought aloud as soon as he started talking!

Idia covered his reddened face with his hands.

"What a coincidence," you smiled, "Since I like you too."

You gently pulled his hands away from his face and gave him your brightest grin. He froze as soon as your skin made contact, and his breathing quickened, his hair turned a full, passionate pink.

"Ahahahaha...!" He stammered.

A sudden noise filled both the room, followed by a long silence, causing the both of you to turn towards the source. Your heads turned in sync to see Ortho standing at the door with a camera after it let out a painfully loud 'click!'

He gave the pair of you a huge smile with his eyes.

"For memories' sake!" He cheered.

Bonus

After you'd made breakfast together with the ingredients that the brothers brought, you, Idia and Ortho, sat in a triangle on the floor, while Grim watched lazily from the sofa. It was more of a joint interrogation performed against the little robot with Grim serving as an audience.

"So, Ortho, you knew Idia already knew who I was?" You raised an eyebrow, "And you knew about how he felt??"

"And you already knew that they liked me? And you knew they knew who I was and didn't tell me??" Idia squeaked, "And you told them to come to the store that day?!"

Ortho picked up a controller and was suddenly immersed in gameplay.

"Haha..." He sweatdropped.

414 notes · View notes

wishluc · 1 year

Note

hello miss asa! i was hoping you would consider my request: lilia taking care of a sick darling? i'm feeling very under the weather right now, and i'm just aching for lila to nurse me back to health <3 (i adore how you write him, so delightfully evil <3)

Awe anon :( wishing for your speedy recovery!

✧ CW: yandere character,

"Oh my," Lilia's cold hand brushes away some hair that had fallen over your forehead, "you're burning up," The way he says your name, oddly apathetic despite your state and the slight twitch of his lips makes you frown and sink down further into your bed.

Maybe he should try harder to appear concerned—not that he wasn't; there was genuine worry laced in his words—but the bitter taste of betrayal is still fresh in his mouth, and the displeasure that shuddered through him when he found you standing painfully close to your friend hasn't left him completely. Besides, he glances over to your figure, collapsed onto your sheets, you're clearly not in any state to be thinking too deeply about the off-putting smile and the hardness in his gaze.

Your reply is an incomprehensible garble, but by the tone of your voice, Lilia can already tell that you were protesting his aid, insisting he go back to his dorm. It was just like you to do that, even though it was clear from the tissues littering the floor and the circles under your eyes that you were hardly able to get by without him. Besides, your condition wouldn't ease up for a few more days, and this would serve as the perfect opportunity to spend some time together—something he wasn't able to do with you for a while already.

"Now, now," his airy laugh fills the room, and his hand goes to gently pinch at your cheek, "how could I leave you alone in this state? You forget that I've done this countless times before. I promise it's no bother."

He smiles at you again, light and easy, reminding you that despite the cracks in his exterior, he was still your ever-caring senior. His fingers caress your sweltering cheek before he makes his way around your room, cleaning up as he goes. Lilia talks to you, ignoring your dazed state, about his meeting with the music club, and how SIlver had fallen asleep mid-potion again. He doesn't mention Jamil, whose cooking you were complimenting the other day, jealousy still coiled around his heart. He rapidly flits around your room, flipping through your books and papers, staring uncomfortably long at the tart Trey had left you earlier before swiftly tossing it into the bin with all your other trash—even if you wanted to eat it, you couldn't have protested in your current state—and picked up your haphazardly thrown coat with a soft chuckle. Even your messes were endearing.

"I don't know how this happened" you mutter, cradling a cup of water in your hands, "I just woke up sick."

"Humans are so sickly," Lilia sighs, "Silver fell ill quite often too. But something about your demeanor tells me there's more to it than a simple illness. Almost like..."

He waits for you to take the bait, though he's tempted to just lean over and caress your cheek and whisper in your ear about how it had been quite some time since he last used this curse and how he carefully ensured that it shouldn't drain you off all your energy and leave you a corpse, but you wouldn't take well to that, even in your current state. Instead, he stays exactly where he is.

"What else...?"

Red eyes stare at you, void of any emotion. Lilia's mouth is set in a stern line, not allowing for an inch of familiarity, and slowly, he cocks his head to the side, his gaze narrowing and eyes gleaming. Your face looks almost as delightful as it did when he had you trapped during Beanfest, taking in shallow breaths and watching him warily. How cute; you were so utterly, helpless.

"It must be a curse," Lilia finally declares, pulling away so quickly that it shocks you, "there's no other explanation for your awful state. I wonder who you've upset so to get such a nasty little thing latched onto you..."

"A curse?"

"Mmm," he shakes his head, feigning concern, "I do believe it was that Pomefiore student you were studying with. They're quite good with their curses, aren't they?"

He expects to hear some words of defense, but to his surprise, you're uncharacteristically silent. He wonders if his earlier ministrations scared you after all.

You don't meet his eyes, "Can you remove it?"

Lilia takes a moment to really look at you; weariness set in so deep that you look depleted of any life, voice listless and distant and eyes drawn to the ground. At this rate, you'd hardly be able to get up and get yourself some water.

"Removing it is a simple matter," Lilia reassures you, "but you probably won't be able to take the stress of it. I think you should rest for a little while first. Don't worry," a small spell to put you to sleep is on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be said, but his soft smile gives nothing away, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 10 months

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Hello I hope you are doing well. Are you still doing Fallout 4 companions react? If you are I got a funny one for you. How would the companions react to someone telling the Sole Survivor to act her age, and she immediately plays dead.

Thank you! I'm doing quite well, and I hope you are, too! I hope you enjoy this one! 🥰 I know I loved writing it 😂

Cait - Despite the fact that she is utterly fuming at the person who had dared tell F!Sole that, she cannot help but snort in amusement when she understands the reason she fell to the ground. F!Sole's sense of humor is undyingly (no pun intended) awful and literal, but it is a nice way to put the person in their place.

Curie - Misses the joke at first and is immediately at F!Sole's side, worrying for her health because people don't collapse for no reason. However, when she understands the joke, she does find it rather funny, but only after she has ensured Madame's safety.

Piper - Almost immediately falls to the ground laughing with her Blue because her naturally smart-mouthed self INSTANTLY gets it. However, she manages to hold herself together long enough to make a sarcastic quip to the rude person saying something along the lines of "Ask and ye shall receive."

MacCready - Takes him a second to get it, but he cannot help but find it extremely funny when he does. He laughs a little as he gives the person the stink-eye until they go away and leave him and his "dead" friend alone.

Deacon - Falls to the ground with her before he fully understands the joke. No explanations or anything, he just goes and plays dead alongside her just to further mess with the person that had told her to act her age. He's always in for a good prank.

Codsworth - Laughs happily. The joke doesn't take long to occur to him, and he is more than eager to support her attempts to ward off the haters. He scolds the person, making sure to make a few clever comments himself.

Hancock - Would have just assumed stab them as look at them for saying something like that to F!Sole, but when she fell to the ground in response, he waits for just a couple of beats, trying to figure out what she's doing. As soon as it dawns on him, he is instantly cackling loudly and unashamedly at her clever way of putting the person in their place.

Danse - Is somewhat embarrassed and terribly taken off-guard by the display. He is instantly dragging her up and leaving because this is not an honorable sort of way to represent the Brotherhood or if it's Post-BB, it's not a way to conduct oneself in public regardless. -5/10, not outstanding.

Preston - Is somewhat shocked that his general is behaving this way, but it is slightly funny despite his reservations about how this must represent the Minutemen. He just sort of looks away awkwardly until she is done.

Valentine - Just sighs tiredly and he gets it instantly. However, he can't help enjoying the joke despite the ridiculousness of the entire thing. After a few moments, he asks her if acting his age was dead, too, and if he should go ahead and join her.

X6-88 - Is terribly unamused. This is a waste of time. It would have been more fitting to simply threaten the person or skip the formalities and simply shoot them. But he lets her have her fun despite how silly it is.

Dogmeat - Does not understand the humor and is instantly confused and a little concerned when she falls over. He sniffs her carefully, trying to figure out if she is alright. However, when he sees she's okay, he barks excitedly, taking the opportunity to lick her face now that she's more conveniently at his level.

Strong - Is instantly confused and he kicks her side a little to see if she's really alive or if she just fell over dead for real. When she quickly comes back to life to assure him of her livelihood, he gets angry. "Why tiny human pretend to be dead when NOT dead?!!! MAKES NO SENSE!!!"

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angelinthefire · 1 year

Text

Thinking of a version of 13x04 The Big Empty where Mia the shapeshifter therapist offers to appear to Dean as someone he lost, and he looks like he's going to turn her down, but then he hesitates, and gives her this long evaluating look. And then the scene cuts, and you think Mia is going to appear as Mary, because that's who they were talking about before. You see Dean's reaction, and it's this blank kind of shock, because he was expecting to see what he sees, but he didn't realize how it would hit him. And you hear "Hello Dean". And it's Cas. And he doesn't look right, Mia doesn't have his mannerisms, and she doesn't have the outfit, just a plain white button-down and dark slacks, but she looks enough like him. Dean's about to say something, but he can't. He just swallows and grits his jaw and stares. And Mia/Cas says something like "I'm sorry I left you, I know it's hard. But I love you; and that love will stay with you." And you the viewer don't think too too much of the word "love", because Cas has used it before, love like family, love like friends. But anyways, Dean hears that and he frowns, like he's trying to internalize it, he's trying to get some closure out of this, but he can't. He shuts his eyes, with furrowed brows, and he's regretting that he agreed to this at all. And then Mia/Cas moves closer to Dean. She puts her hand on his cheek, and Dean sucks in a breath but he keeps his eyes closed. And then she leans in and kisses him so, so softly. Because she thinks they were like that. And at first Dean trembles at the kiss, but he keeps his eyes closed and lets it happen. Only after a few seconds does he jerk back, wide-eyed, looking terrified. And of course Mia/Cas is immediately worried and sorry that she made a mistake, and she says "Dean--" and is about to apologize. But Dean just turns around and storms out. Dean rushes away from the house, breathing hard like he'd just lost a fight. He gets in the car and slams the door. And his expression collapses, hes looks shattered, and he gasps, shaken and hurting, and tears run down his face.

And that's it. No further discussion or explanation of what happened. No comment from Dean. And then 13x05 Advanced Thanatology happens as normal.

#spn #destiel #dean winchester #not actually fanfic #Maybe nothing changes in tombstone either #heck. maybe nothing changes on the rest of the show ever #but actually that's how I would have set up destiel going canon in s13 with little if any further discussion #like I think the way I'd do it is that 13x06 would actually happen as normal. maybe with Dean even more hyped up #it would be a couple more episodes before I'd have Dean tell Cas that he loves him #probably in the midst of a fight or something #or maybe when Cas is saying that there must be a reason why he was brought back #something like that #idk what happens next i'm falling asleep as i type

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tired-of-being-nice · 13 days

Text

the sound

*emerges from finals covered in blood* IM ALIVE *throws this down* *leaves*

anyway, enjoy a little showing of how coren is kept in line!

cws: brainwashing/conditioning, sensory overload (sort of), willing brainwashing

Coren's head isn't working right. It feels all floaty, not quite attached to its body. By the time it got back to where it was supposed to be it was already late in the day and it was too exhausted to give a proper explanation of why it was so late and what it was doing last night. It just begged forgiveness as much as it could when it couldn't think in coherent sentences, much less speak, and now it's sitting on a chair putting all its strength into staying upright and waiting patiently to be told what its punishment is.

It hopes it's the noise. It really, really hopes that. Not just because the alternative is being alone and it can't bear being alone, but because it's so tired and it can't think straight and the noise will help with that, it always does. It'll fix Coren. Make them able to do their job again. Coren wants to be able to do a good job. They want to so badly.

Its head hurts so terribly, which is good, because if it didn't it thinks it would probably slide right off the chair and collapse onto the ground, but it hurts, it hurts so much, the lights are too bright in here and their thoughts are chasing each other in circles and their ears are starting to ring–

"–ren? Coren?"

Coren blinks and squints at the blurry figure in front of them until it resolves into the shape of Erica, their...manager, or handler, or whatever it is you want to call her.

"Hi, Erica," they mumble. "I don't feel good."

"I can tell that," Erica says with a raised eyebrow, and Coren shrinks back in shame. "What are you holding?"

Coren turns their head to stare at the spatula clutched in their hand. "I, um...dunno."

Erica sighs. "Well, I don't have time to pry it away now. Come on. We've decided you need some more time with the Sound."

Coren perks up immediately and follows behind Erica obediently, mustering their protesting body through the few steps with the promise of soon, soon, soon.

The noise room is empty and white and clean, and Erica shoves Coren inside in a way they'd protest usually but today are grateful for.

The door shuts behind them, and there's a slight click from the speakers, and then the Sound comes on.

It's like white noise but more, resounding, near-deafening, filling the room and your mind until you can't hear yourself think, let alone scream.

(They did use to scream, didn't they? They almost remember that, every time they come in here. But it never sticks— the sound takes it away, and besides, they don't want to remember something so unpleasant.)

Coren sighs, slumping bonelessly to the floor, a dazed smile spreading across their face. The noise drowns out any thoughts, rises and falls in waves, crashing against Coren's brain and gently smoothing away all the pesky contradictory thoughts that had been nagging at them. The ache of starvation fades from their limbs, and the haze of sleepiness melts from their mind. Everything is fine. Everything is alright.

(but milo–) shhhh (but i have to–) shhhhhh (i'm still hungry–) shhhh (i can't rememb–) shhhhhhhh

This is so nice. Coren doesn't need to worry now. What was there to worry about, anyway? They're safe. The Company has them. The Company loves them.

Their fingers loosen, and the spatula drops from their hand, forgotten.

that's right! it was an EMOTIONALLY SIGNIFICANT SPATULA this whole time! haha!

taglist: @whumpsoda @snakebites-and-ink

#october's whump #oc: coren #whump #brainwashing #conditioned whumpee #Emotionally Significant Spatula #story: tadikm

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accio-victuuri · 6 months

Text

wait.. i’m literally on here or weibo almost 24/7 ( as you can tell lol ) but I feel like i missed something. i’m seeing clowning related to xz’s photos and how it looks like he is a groom and it’s a wedding photoshoot. the place is also famous for wedding shoots ( allegedly, idk. i’m not from there ) so turtles are imagining again. lol. freakin coincidence that wyb’s GRA photoshoot was done at a wedding shop. plus the “wedding outfits” for weibo night. which is all clowning and galaxy braining.🌌

now, we’re joking around, like where’s yibo? he should be taking photos with his partner.

then i see comments that there is this one song WYB recently listened to. meaning, as recent as when XZ flew to singapore which is called 超人不会飞 (superman can’t fly) by Jay Chou. i know WYB and everyone else is a big fan of Jay Chou but the clowning comes from the timing of when he listened to it. let me get to that first.

here is the song if you wanna listen to it. 🎶

youtube

turtles are interpreting it as WYB longing to “fly” to where XZ is and be with him but he can’t because of all his work commitments. he wants to take a breather. thinking about what his life is and the constraints, and at times like this, when they spent days in Beijing, but now they have to be apart, it affects him even more.

however when i read the lyrics, it could also be because he can relate to what jay chou is singing about. here’s the english translation i found here. i have bolded the ones i felt like WYB relates too. literally no need for explanation. just read it. It fits with his status in life so much that it’s almost scary.

妈妈说很多事别太计较

ma ma shuo heng duo shi bie tai ji jiao

Mum said one should not be too fussy over most matters

只是使命感找到了我我睡不着

zhi shi shi ming gan zhao dao le wo wo shui bu zhao

But my sense of mission found me and i can't sleep over it

如果说骂人要有点技巧

ru guo shuo ma ren yao you diao ji qiao

If scolding someone requires some skills

我会加点旋律你会觉得超屌

wo hui jia diao xuan lu ni hui jue de chao diao

I will add a tune and you will feel it's very cool (diao)

我的枪不会装弹药（弹药）

wo de qiang bu hui zhuang dan yao (dan yao)

My gun is not loaded with ammunition

所以放心不会有人倒（人倒）

suo yi fang xin bu hui you ren dao (ren dao)

So don't worry, nobody will collapse

我拍青蜂侠不需要替身因为自信是我绘画的颜料

wo pai qing feng xia bu xu yao ti sheng yin wei zi xin shi wo hui hua de yan liao

I don't need a double for The Green Hornet because confidence is the coloring for my painting

我做很多事背后的意义远比你们想象

wo zuo heng duo shi bei hou de yi yi yuan bi ni men xiang xiang

The meaning behind the things I did is far beyond your imagination

拍个电视剧为了友情与十年前的梦想

pai le dian shi ju wei le you qing yu shi nian qian de meng xiang

Filming a tv drama is for friendship and a dream 10 years ago

收视率再高也难抗衡我的伟大理想

shou shi lv zai gao ye nan kang heng wo de wei da li xiang

No matter how high the rating is, it can't match my noble ideal

因为我的人生无需再多一笔那奖项

yin wei wo de ren sheng wo xu zai duo yi bi na jiang xiang

Because my life do not need another award

我不知道何时变成了社会的那榜样

wo bu zhi dao he shi bian cheng le se hui de na bang yang

I don't know when I have become a society's role model

被狗仔拍不能比中指要大器的模样（怎样）

bei gou zai pai bu neng bi zhong zhi yao da qi de mo yang (zen yang)

Can't show the paparazzi the finger and have to put on a magnanimous front

我唱的歌词要有点文化

wo chang de ge ci yao you dian wen hua

The lyrics I sing must have some degree of literacy

因为随时会被当教材

yin wei sui shi hui bei dan jiao cai

Because it might become teaching material anytime

CNN能不能等英文好一点再访

CNN neng bu neng deng ying wen hao yi dian zai fang

Can CNN interview me when my English gets a little better

时代杂志封面能不能重拍

shi dai za zhi feng mian neng bu neng chong pai

Can i reshoot the Time magazine cover

随时随地注意形象

sui shi sui di zhu yi xin xiang

I must take care of my image at all times

要控制饮食不然就跟杜莎夫人蜡像的我不像（本来就不像）

yao kong zhi yin shi bu ran jiu gen du sha fu ren la xiang de wo bu xiang (ben lai jiu bu xiang)

I must control my diet or i won't look like the "me" in Madame Tussauds (it doesn't look like me in the first place)

好莱坞的中国戏院地上有很多手印脚印

hao lai wu de zhong guo xi yuan di shang you heng duo shou yin jiao yin

There are many handprints and footprints at Grauman's Chinese Theatre

何时才能看见我的掌

he shi cai neng kan jian wo de zhang

When will mine be seen there?

如果超人会飞那就让我在空中停一停歇

ru guo chao ren hui fei na jiu rang wo zai kong zhong ti yi ti xie

If Superman can fly then let me take a breather in the sky

再次俯瞰这个世界会让我觉得好一些

zai ci fu kan zhe ge shi jie hui ran wo jue de hao yi xie

Overlooking this world again will let me feel better

拯救地球好累虽然有些疲惫但我还是会

zheng jiu di qiu hao lei sui ran you xie pi bei dan wo hai shi hui

Saving the world is tiring, though I am a little tired, I still will

不要问我哭过了没

bu yao wen wo ku guo le mei

Don't ask me if I have cried

因为超人不能流眼泪

yin wei chao ren bu neng liu yan lei

Because Superman can't cry

唱歌要拿最佳男歌手

chang ge yao na zui jia nan ge shou

(You) must get best male singer award as a singer

拍电影也不能只拿个最佳新人

pai dian yin ye bu neng zhi na ge zui jia xin ren

A newcomer award is not enough if you act

你不参加颁奖典礼就是没礼貌

ni bu can jia ban jiang dian li jiu shi mei li mao

Not attending award ceremonies is considered rude

你去参加就是代表你很在乎

ni qu can jia jiu shi dai biao ni heng zai hu

And if you do, it means you are over-concerned about it

得奖时你感动落泪（落泪）人家就会觉得你夸张做作（做作）

de jia shi ni gan dong luo lei (luo lei) ren jia jiu hui jue de ni kuang zhang zuo zuo

When you won an award and teared, people will think you are fake and exaggerating

你没表情别人就会说太嚣张

ni mei biao qing bie ren jiu hui shuo tai xiao zhang

When you have no expression, others will say you are too arrogant

如果你天生这个表情那些人甚至会怪你妈妈（妈妈）

ru guo ni tian sheng zhe ge biao qing na xie ren sheng zhi hui guai ni ma ma (ma ma)

And if you are born with that expression, they will even blame your mum

结果最后是别人在得奖你也要给予充分的掌声与微笑

jie guo zui hou shi bie ren zai de jiang ni ye yao ge yu chong fen de zhang sheng yu wei xiao

In the end someone else gets the award, you also have to give ample applause and smile

开的车不能太好住的楼不能太高

kai de che bu neng tai hao zhu de lou bu neng tai gao

The car you drive can't be too luxurious nor can you live too high up

我到底是一个创作歌手还是好人好事代表

wo dao di shi yi ge chuang zuo ge shou hai shi hao ren hao shi dai biao

Am I a singer-songwriter or a representative of good men and good deeds?

专辑一出就必须是冠军

zhuan ji yi chu jiu bi xu shi guan jun

My album must be ranked top once released

拍了电影就必须要大卖

pai le dian yin jiu bi xu yao da mai

My movie must sell well

只能说当超人真的好难

zhi neng shuo dan chao ren zhen de hao nan

I can only say, being a Superman is difficult

如果超人会飞（超人会飞）那就让我在空中停一停歇（停一停歇）

ru guo chao ren hui fei (chao ren hui fei) na jiu rang wo zai kong zhong ti yi ti xie (ti yi ti xie)

If Superman can fly then let me take a breather in the sky

再次俯瞰这个世界会让我觉得好一些

zai ci fu kan zhe ge shi jie hui ran wo jue de hao yi xie

Overlooking this world again will let me feel better

拯救地球好累（地球好累）虽然有些疲惫但我还是会（我还是会）

zheng jiu di qiu hao lei (di qiu hao lei) sui ran you xie pi bei dan wo hai shi hui (wo hai shi hui)

Saving the world is tiring, though I am a little tired, I still will

不要问我哭过了没

bu yao wen wo ku guo le mei

Don't ask me if I have cried

因为超人不能流眼泪

yin wei chao ren bu neng liu yan lei

Because Superman can't cry

=====

I don’t think there is anything wrong with how cpfs are relating this to cpn cause that’s just how it is. But sometimes, there are other reasons why they do what they do.

SO MY CONFUSION COMES FROM HOW THE HELL DO PEOPLE KNOW WHAT HE RECENTLY LISTENED TO. I can’t seem to dig up how or maybe it’s something we don’t talk about. I have never experienced this kind of tidbit related to them before so I wanna know the source. Or is this like the gaming cpn where certain people know and they will not divulge the boy’s account for privacy? if anyone knows, feel free to comment. If i find out in the future, I will share.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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bakuliwrites · 11 months

Note

This might be a little oddly specific, but what about The Arcana Main six with an MC whose family does not support the relationship? (possibly doesn’t like the LI, doesn’t want to give their blessing, overall just disapproves of the LI)

Thank you and best of wishes xxx

I would be delighted to write this one! Thank you so much for your request and I wish you the best as well ��

M6 when MC's Family Does Not Approve of Them

It would certainly hurt Asra to know that your family doesn't approve of your relationship with him, or perhaps doesn't even approve of him. All Asra wants is for you to be happy, so knowing that he may somehow be contributing to your unhappiness is devastating to him.

He wonders often if your family is disapproving of him because of your history with him. If your family knows what went down between the two of you before, during, and after the plague. Or perhaps they're simply wary of the magician. Of his powers. "There's no point in speculating," you say to him one day after a particularly stressful visit to your hometown. Asra casts a troubled glance your way before pulling you into his arms and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You're right. All that matters is that you have each other.

He is a constant support in your life. If you have to visit your family, he is more than happy to be by your side, even if they don't care for him. And he's not about to let them take their frustrations or cruelty out on you. Fine, say unkind things about him. He can take it. But he's not going to let anyone hurt you. He'll stand up for you to your family. Whatever support you need from him, in whatever form, when it comes to your family, he's there for you!

His parents approve of you. In fact, they adore you! So he figures that the four of you (seven with Faust, Chimes, and Flamel!) can be your own little family 💜

Nadia is familiar with the feeling of family disapproving of a significant other. To say her marriage to Count Lucio was no picnic is an understatement, and with it came a lot of stress due to the fact that her family was incredibly displeased with him. But this doesn't mean that Nadia isn't deeply hurt by the fact that your family doesn't approve of the two of you being together.

At first, Nadia will probably go out of her way to try to win them over. Not in any ridiculous, over-the-top sorts of ways. But she'll offer any services of the palace, should your family need assistance with anything. She tries her absolute best to gift them with things that she knows they would like, and with your recommendations for what they might like/need.

After a while though, when nothing seems to be working, you sit her down and politely tell her not to bother anymore. "I just don't understand," you manage to whisper through the threat of tears. She lets you collapse into her, holding you close as you weep. She smooths away your tears with the pads of her thumbs and gives you a warm smile. "Sometimes things bear no explanation," she reasons, pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips, "All we can do is carry on with our lives and do what brings us joy."

Nadia isn't petty. Your family is still invited to all events she hosts, to every party, and ball and what not. But her gaze is cold and disapproving when she glances at your family members from across the room. She's quick to defend you, too. Her support is invaluable to you, and she wants you to know that she'll always have your back, even if your family doesn't 💜

Julian is devastated that your family doesn't like him. He's aware that he's not everybody's cup of tea. Normally, that doesn't get to him. But the fact that it's your family cuts him deep. He's not worried about himself, though. No, he can handle it when people don't like him. He is, however, worried about what it all means for you.

He frets often about their disapproval. He wonders if you would be better off being with someone else, someone that your family actually approves of, but he tries to quash that unhealthy train of thought. The two of you have a lot of late night discussions and debriefs about your family. Especially if you've had to interact with them extensively, say at an uncomfortable family dinner or gathering.

"Maybe I should simmer down a little when we're around your family," Julian suggests, worrying that he's a bit too boisterous for them or something. You shake your head, "No, you shouldn't. You should still be you. If they can't handle it, that's their problem." He admires your ability to stay strong, even though he knows your family's disapproval is painful for you. He wants to stay strong for you, too.

He'll be right by your side if you have to attend any family gatherings. Julian will slip his hand into yours and squeeze it tight if he can feel that you're getting stressed, or press a soft kiss to your cheek. He'll defend you if your family has the audacity to say anything about your relationship. He knows you've got his back, too. And luckily, his family adores you. You, Portia, and Mazelinka are the most important people in the world to him, and that's all that matters to Julian 💜

I think it would break Portia's heart if your family didn't approve of her or your relationship with her. She lost her family young, but was able to make one with her brother and the grandmas in Nevivon, so I think she would really be hoping to include your family in her own.

Whenever the two of you go to visit your family, Portia always brings a baked gift to try to smooth things over. She is polite and courteous, offers to help out around the kitchen, and tidy up after dinner. But none of it seems to smooth things over with your family. She starts to wonder if maybe she isn't good enough for them, if you'd be better off with someone of a little higher status or something.

"Nonsense," you tell her back at her cottage, snuggled up in bed together, "My family's opinion doesn't matter to me anyway." She smiles ruefully at you, knowing deep down that that isn't true. She can see the way it hurts you, but nonetheless, you put on a brave face. "It's okay if it's not okay," she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You give her a small smile, squeezing her hand tight, "You're what matters to me, Portia," you reassure.

Portia gets feisty if she needs to with your family, if they're being cruel to you. But otherwise, she tries to keep the peace if the two of you do have to interact with them. She has bouts of insecurity, where she feels like maybe it would be best if you found someone your family approved of. But you are quick to reassure her, and your obvious love for her is enough to prove that the two of you are meant to be 💜

Though Muriel is reserved, I feel that a lot of him would have been hoping to be able to become a part of your family, given that he lost his when he was so little. Having grown-up on his own, Muriel hoped that your family would be gracious enough to accept him into their circle, but unfortunately, that's not the case.

He wonders late at night when his thoughts keep him up if his past has anything to do with why your family doesn't approve of him. He wouldn't blame them. "Maybe we should just go our separate ways," he offers one afternoon after a particularly uncomfortable luncheon with your family. You frown at Muriel, quirking an eyebrow up, "Break-up with me because you want to break-up with me. Not because you think my family would like it."

And with that, it dawns on Muriel that you're with him despite what your family thinks of him. That you care about him, truly and deeply. That this is probably incredibly painful for you, too. "I love you, Muriel. I don't care what anyone else thinks," you say to him, spelling it our clearly and precisely.

You and Muriel decide that you don't need your family to approve. The two of you, and Inanna, are a family. And Asra, and Nadia, and Portia, and Julian (though Muriel agrees to this begrudgingly). The two of you have people in your life that care about you, that love and cherish you. Blood doesn't always mean everything, and the connections that you and Muriel have formed together, the bonds you've made, are what matter most 💜

At first, Lucio is flabbergasted as to why your family doesn't like him. He's so likeable, so what gives??? But over time, it dawns on him why your family might not approve of your relationship with him, and why they probably don't like him at all.

For a long time, he tries to win them over with overly-elaborate gifts that increase in amount (and in price) in the hopes of winning them over. He's desperate to gain your family's approval, hoping that at some point, he'll happen to send the right present and suddenly, all will be well. All will be forgiven and Lucio will be in their good graces.

When this doesn't work, he makes a show of expressing his adoration for you. He tries to talk to your family and convince them of how much he loves you. But nothing works. Lucio starts to feel defeated. "Why don't they like me?" he whimpers one evening, after another failed attempt at winning them over. You smile softly, gently tilting his chin up to look at you. "It doesn't matter what they think, Lucio," you reassure, brushing your lips featherlight against his, "You're important to me. I don't care what they think, and neither should you."

He stops trying so hard to gain their favor, and instead opts to ignore their existence (unless you have to visit them, in which case he'll try his best to be polite, but will likely come off as curt). Lucio feels a swell of confidence at your words. Oh yeah, that's right, it doesn't matter what they think! Lucio loves you, and you love Lucio, and that's all that matters 💜

#the arcana #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio morgasson #count lucio #arcana headcanons #dani headcanons #my writing #request #asra x reader #nadia x reader #julian x reader #portia x reader #muriel x reader #lucio x reader

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adrift-in-thyme · 6 months

Note

Congrats on the follower milestone, Trin!! For the lil fanfic suggestions, how about Sky and Warriors bonding? I do love how you write emotional hurt/comfort, and it would be cool if Wars were the one comforting, but these are all just suggestions! No worries if you don't feel inspiration from this prompt :) Hope you're having a good day!

Tysm @unclemoriarty !! And thanks for the prompt! I love writing Wars and Sky, especially when it’s angsty ;) I hope you like what I came up with!

No warnings, just some angst

———————-

Sky brushes a hand roughly across his eyes, trying to do away with the moisture there. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything. But the Shadow’s words still echo in his mind, a sentence he never wanted to shoulder.

…and yet has for years now.

“Have you told them yet?” Crimson eyes gleam in his mind’s eye. Cool metal presses against his neck. “Have you told them that you are responsible for all their pain?

“Tell me, hero, have you informed them of the curse you allowed to take root in your souls?”

Seeing their faces had been the worst of it. Worse than the wounds the Shadow had inflicted, worse than the fear and pain. They had looked at him, questioning, confused, and all he could do in the aftermath was spew a choked explanation full of excuses.

“I should’ve stabbed him right then and there. I shouldn’t have given him the mercy of another moment of life.” That is what it really comes down to. His foolish belief that he had won, that he could spare the fading god a few more seconds to breathe his last.

Decency and morality are things he clings to. They’re what make him a hero. He has no plans to release them now. But…

He gazes out into the dim light of a cloudy day, wincing as even that much brightness assaults his aching eyes.

But in this moment he is beginning to think his decision was more pride than anything else. Or…perhaps it was just exhaustion. A yearning for it all to be over so he could go collapse in his friends’ waiting arms, safe at last.

It doesn’t matter either way. The point is that he failed. And now others must shoulder the repercussions of that failure.

“Hey, Sky.”

He jolts abruptly out of his thoughts, breath hitching. In an instant, he is on his feet. But it is only the captain standing there, looking a bit damp from the drizzling rain.

“Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sky shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“It’s fine.”

He turns away, flopping defeatedly back down onto the ground. If Warriors knows it for the sign Sky means it to be, he doesn’t indicate as much. Instead, he comes to sit down beside him.

“It’s not a very pleasant day today, is it?”

Sky doesn’t answer, but he can feel the captain’s eyes on him, searching, questioning, perhaps even judging. He fights not to crumble before their scrutiny.

“No,” he croaks, finally, “it’s not.”

Warriors has turned now to gaze out into the endless gray. Sky still feels exposed, raw. Suddenly, he has the distinct yearning to claw out of his own skin.

For another agonizing thread of minutes it is quiet. Then, Warriors speaks, his voice soft.

“We aren’t angry at you, Sky.”

Sky looks down at his boots and doesn’t reply. The silence is agonizing, but speaking is far worse.

Warriors allows it for a short while more.

“Did I ever tell you how the War of Ages began?” He says, finally, still soft, far softer than the captain usually sounds.

Sky shakes his head. Warriors chuckles, short and bitter.

“I figured as much. Well, you should know…it started because of me.”

Sky’s eyes widen slightly. He turns to Warriors, but the captain is facing away still, expression carefully guarded.

“A woman named Cia became obsessed with me without me even knowing it. She attacked Hyrule to get what she wanted. I wouldn’t give in — and neither would anyone else — and in the end we defeated her. But to get there, to obtain a victory…”

He ducks his head, that hollow chuckle ringing out again. It tears Sky’s heart in two.

“It’s what it means to be a hero, Sky,” he murmurs. “To lose, to fail, if only to succeed in the end. We carry heavy burdens — every single one of us.”

Finally, he turns to Sky, a sad smile on his lips. Gently, he puts a hand on Sky's shoulder.

“But if we stick together we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

Sky swallows hard. Tears still pick at his eyes and the lump in his throat warns of the sobs that are still to come. Far away he can make out a dark haze amongst all the gray — rain approaching fast. He watches it through blurred eyes.

“I’m sorry about the war,” he says, quietly. It’s not enough — he knows it isn’t. What can he say to wash away Warriors’ guilt, his pain?

“Not your fault. And I didn’t tell you to gain your pity. I told you because I wanted you to know that I understand. And I know the others do too.” His arm is around Sky now, drawing him in, nudging away his barriers. “That’s why we don’t blame you. Why would we when we all bear our own guilt?”

Sky inhales shakily. The rain is even closer now. They will likely be soaked soon. But with Warriors warm and steady beside him, he can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t deserve this comfort. The war that had made Warriors a hero wouldn’t have even happened without his failure, after all. Yet, he feels incapable of pulling away.

“I’m sorry anyway,” he murmurs, thickly, because words are all he has to offer. “Even if you don’t blame me for the curse…I’m sorry.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. But he coaxes Sky closer until the Skyloftian is resting on his shoulder. And when the rain comes pouring down and Sky shatters beneath it, Warriors holds him tightly while he sobs.

#thanks again!#I saw your other prompt too #it’s really good #I’m gonna save it for later #reyna my beloved #trin writes #asks #trin answers #follower celebration #linked universe #lu warriors #lu sky #emotional hurt/comfort #linked universe fic

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mummybear · 8 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Part 3 - Explanations

Words: 6287

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, Jealously, Talk Of Marking, Talk Of Mates. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall, Derek Hale.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: A little bit more of the truth is revealed and things get heated between Stiles and Sadie, not in all positive ways. Just how much can Sadie take?

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I know I missed a week there, had a busy week at work! And hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it, I was going to cut it into two chapter but I felt it flowed better as one, so I hope that's okay! Please let me know what you think, really hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3 - Explanations

Scott’s whispered confession reaches your ears and you collapse against him almost immediately. Being turned was the one thing Stiles had insisted that he would never want, and he’d become increasingly adamant as the years had gone on. You can’t help but worry how this has affected their friendship, this was a pretty big thing to come between two friends. You also need to find out just how badly it’s currently affecting the two of them individually. They were two of the most important people in your life, which only made hearing all of this that much harder.

Scott pulls back to look at you as soon as you’ve recovered from the shock. You know that he needs to talk, to get this off of his chest, so you don't say anything in reply. You're slightly unsure of what to say right now anyway, because he’d done it, you knew he wasn’t lying, he’d bitten Stiles and that only meant one thing.

Besides, It's not like you can argue with him, because given his choices and his abilities, you would've done the same thing, especially in the heat of the moment. Knowing your brother the way you do, you know how hard it was for him to make that decision. He’d never wanted to turn anyone, let alone somebody who couldn’t make the decision for themselves.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind, does Stiles still have the beginnings of his mothers condition? Or had his new werewolf side shielded him from that reality? But Scott speaking pulls you from your thoughts.

"Trust me, nobody can hate me more than I hate myself for what I did that day. I know it was selfish, I do. But I couldn't lose my best friend, Sadie. Not like that, not when I had the chance to save him."

You hug him again, making sure to squeeze him extra tight.

"I won't tell you that you made the wrong decision, Scott, because that would make me a hypocrite. I'm pretty sure in your position I would've done the same. But have the two of you spoken about any of this? The guilt you're clearly feeling? Are you guys okay?"

"Sorry, I’m just worried about you, well, both of you." You mumble under your breath, pulling back to look at him. You're sure that your wince is visible as soon as the words leave your lips.

Not that Scott shows any sign of being overwhelmed by your inquisition, nothing new there though. He simply gives you a fond smile as he looks you over, as if contemplating if you can handle his next words.

"Typical, Sadie. Always thinking of everyone else, never yourself.” Scott sighs softly, before he continues.

“Stiles knows how I feel and why I feel it, and he gets it. We've talked at length about this, trust me, I think he’s sick of me asking at this point. He isn't happy about what I did, not by a long shot, but he's had time to process and he understands why I did what I did." Before Scott can continue he groans in pain and clenches his teeth.

You quickly grab his shoulders and force him to look at you. "I guess I got it from my big brother, huh?” You state matter of factly, trying your best to distract him from whatever pain he’s feeling but you watch as he balls his hands into fists, clearly doing his best to ignore whatever is wrong. Then you watch as his face begins to contort in pain, instantly worrying you.

“Scott, what Is it?" You demand as the worry tightens your stomach almost painfully. He reaches out and quickly grabs the couch and his claws start protruding from the tips of his fingers.

"I hate to ask you this, Sadie. But I need you to go down to the basement with me. Stiles needs you, he's in pain and he and I, our connection, it’s diff…" Scott's sentence is cut off when he moans, grabbing at his head and dropping to the floor.

You don't even think as you leave your brother, making a run for it, heading towards the basement door. You rip the door open and charge down the stairs, flinging open the final door as soon as it’s in reach.

"Stiles?" You call out as soon as you round the corner, but you come to a halt as soon as your eyes fall on the man in question, he’s chained to the wall in front of you. Growling low and sinister the closer you get to the men. You glance at Derek and Liam standing off to the side, looking like they’re ready to pounce at the slightest hint of trouble, and move away a little.

Lydia quickly grabs your hand and pulls you with her all the way to the other side of the room, with Allison and your mom.

You very quickly realise that you can't look away from Stiles. His eyes are a much deeper purple than you had initially seen earlier. Maybe they changed depending on the situation and perhaps his emotions played a part in it too. Simply another thing you were yet to find out.

You finally allow yourself a real look at him and the man he’s become. Your eyes move over him slowly, taking your time to check him out. He's certainly not the same Stiles Stilinski that you remember. He looks mouth-wateringly good, even covered in dirt and blood, his corded muscles ripple as he strains against the restraints, his clothes clinging tightly to his sweat-soaked body. You’re unable to get over how he was still the skinny defenceless boy you’d fallen in love with. His hair is a little longer than it was the last time he’d been home. Yet another thing you’d failed to notice. Stiles had you so distracted earlier tonight that you’d barely managed to pay attention to anything, except the things he was doing to you. You didn’t give much thought to how much he had changed.

"Mine." Stiles growls suddenly for the second time tonight. Hearing that word again snaps you from your admiration of him, especially when he begins to thrash in his chains to get to you.

However, the tighter he pulls against his bindings the more blood drips from his elbows, but he either doesn’t care or he doesn’t seem to notice. Almost like the rage had consumed him. Stiles doesn’t even seem like himself right now, It’s almost like he’s possessed. And It’s killing you to watch him like this, to see him hurting himself in this way. The fact that it’s because of you doesn’t escape your notice.

You swallow thickly as you step closer to him, almost like you’re hypnotised by him once again. Except that this time you're very aware of the pull, so you don't put up any resistance. You wince when you catch sight of just how deep the handcuffs and chains have cut into his wrists. You’re really hoping that Stiles heals just as quickly as Scott, or he’s gonna be in a lot of pain for quite a few days at least.

"Let him free, please. I need him out of there and so does my brother." You whisper to nobody in particular, eyes locked on Stiles’.

"We can't, Mini. I’m sorry, really. But we don't know what he'll do. He isn’t himself right now and we need to wait for Scott. Alpha’s orders." His words are careful, almost like he’s worried about upsetting you. Apparently he’s right to be worried about your reaction, because suddenly anger creeps up your spine, almost as if it isn't your own and you round on the Beta.

"I said let him the fuck out. Now. It's hurting him and my brother. So your Alpha can’t exactly speak for himself right now. So do it, let him out.” Your voice is practically a growl as you march up to Liam and shove him back against the wall. He holds his hands up to try and placate you, for some reason that just makes your anger spike higher. Your hands tighten in his jacket as you shove him back harder. “Or we can find out what happens if you really piss me off."

Anger is thick in every one of your senses. Although now this anger is one hundred percent your own. It’s a feeling you’re all too familiar with, though not at this intensity. It’s the feeling of needing to protect something that’s yours, so even though you might not have the same power as the people in this room, it is something you can’t stop yourself from trying to do.

You feel everyone’s eyes on you. Of course they don’t look overly concerned about you hurting anyone. It’s probably just that they don’t like seeing you upset, you quickly glance at Derek, “just wait okay, I’ll go get Scott.”

You give Derek a stiff nod in return, watching him leave until the door closes behind him. No matter how much you try to calm yourself, it feels like the anger and despair are drowning you. It’s beginning to scare you now, there’s no controlling it, your hands shake as you screw your eyes shut, searching for some semblance of calm.

"Don't do this, this isn’t you, Sadie. It's okay, I’m okay. Breathe for me, please." You spin around hearing his raspy breathless voice and once again your eyes lock with Stiles.

His eyes have returned to the chocolate brown colour you've always loved. "Stiles," you sigh in relief. Taking a deep breath and stumbling back a little, as the anger seems to leave you in a dizzying rush, almost as if Stiles had helped you gain control of your emotions. But that’s not possible, right?

Your mother wraps her arms around you, right as Scott stumbles into the room with Derek’s arm wrapped around his waist to hold him up.

"He's back. For everyone's sake let him out." Scott’s breathless as Derek releases him and helps him lean against the wall to catch his breath.

Allison quickly undoes Stiles' chains with the key that she’d been tightly clutching the whole time, and with a nod from your brother Lydia and Liam rush to grab Stiles as he collapses under his own weight. You have to look away when Stiles rests his head on Lydia’s shoulder, jealousy and sadness hit you all at once, like a punch to your gut. Turning around in your mother’s arms you wrap yours around her too, burying your face in her shoulder.

Suddenly goosebumps raise at the back of your neck, “not now, Stiles. Sadie needs rest. Now that you’re back to yourself. I hope you understand that.” Your arms tighten around her, and you thank the stars that Melissa McCall is your mother, she has this ability to sense what you need before you even say anything.

Without another word she turns you both and wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her body tighter, as she leads you out of the room. You follow silently, unsure of what to say. This day has already been completely crazy, you just need a little time and space to process everything. It’s so damn late you’re surprised the sun hasn't started rising yet.

As soon as the two of you walk inside your room you collapse on the bed, throwing an arm over your eyes, but you can feel your mom watching you.

“Can we not talk about it, momma. I just need the rest of the night to myself, we can talk tomorrow, okay? I promise I’ll be fine.”

You inwardly flinch as the images of all the times you’ve seen Stiles and Lydia together flash through your mind on an unforgiving loop.

“Sure baby girl, you’ve got it. But you need anything, you know where I am.” She gives your leg an affectionate squeeze before heading out of the room, with a sigh you close your eyes and roll onto your, doing your best to sleep. Feeling a tear roll down your cheek as the images continue to assault your senses.

Some Time Later That Night

You wake suddenly, hearing the creek of the bedroom door as it opens slowly. You sit up and quickly turn on the bedside light, squinting at the brightness it brings. Your heart hammers in your chest as you feel yourself beginning to panic. Then a mop of brown hair appears around the door, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk, or sit, or I guess just be near you. If that’s okay? This is… I sound like an idiot, I just-” you cut him off, unable to stop yourself from giggling at him, his cheeks are bright pink and he looks so nervous. Which is so strange with how he looks now, but it’s also so much like the Stiles you used to know.

“Come in, sit down. Dork,” you smile, patting the bed beside you trying to pretend all he is your brother’s best friend coming to talk, and completely ignoring the fact that you’d been making out a few hours ago.

He watches you closely, almost like he’s worried about scaring you off if he moves quickly.

“You sure? I couldn’t sleep, I just… I guess I just need to be near you, if you don’t mind that is. I don’t want to overstep, guess I thought we could talk.” He’s rambling and fiddling with his own fingers as he watches you closely.

You carefully lay your hand on top of his when he sits beside you on your bed.

“Stiles, It’s okay that you’re nervous. I am too, this whole thing is kind of crazy.”

“You have no idea just how crazy it is. Scott said he told you what happened to me. With this,” he says as he waves his hand over his body.

“This is so strange to talk about, I never saw all of this in my future. Even though I don’t even know what this is exactly. Deaton has some running theories. Unfortunately none of us have anything concrete to go on right now.”

“Can I ask where Scott…” you can’t finish the sentence, unsure if it’s rude to ask about his mark.

Stiles swallows hard and nods, meeting your eyes, he shrugs off his hoodie and extends his arm. The mark is half way up his forearm, and to your surprise it’s still visible. You vividly remember how Scott’s had disappeared pretty quickly after he’d been bitten by Peter.

“Yeah, I kinda got that you’re not just any kind of wolf, you’re different. Right?” you ask as he links his fingers with your own.

Stiles leans back against the headboard and you do the same, turning so that you look him in the eyes. This feels good, like he trusts you, like he wants to confide in you, it’s something you’d always wanted. To feel like you could be there for him when he needed somebody the most.

“I was starting to get used to it, the whole wolf thing. Well, as much as was possible. But then I saw you and something changed, it was like I couldn’t control myself, I needed to get to you. I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but when I found that douche in that room with you, I lost it. The thought of him touching you made me feel sick, the fact that you clearly weren’t interested both helped and made things so much worse. I wasn’t just angry as your brother’s best friend or even as your friend.” He reaches up and cups your cheek with his free hand, “I didn’t want his filthy fucking hands anywhere near you. I had to have you, make you mine. Possess you, mark you,” he rasps, his voice becoming breathy and laboured, and the purple in his eyes flashes again, before quickly returning to brown.

You swallow thickly, arousal and nerves swimming inside you like an uncontrollable force. “What about now?” you whisper, leaning in a little bit closer.

“Right now, I can’t lie. Those thoughts haven’t changed, they’re still there, no matter how much I try to push them down. The more time we spend together, the harder it gets to ignore, and it gets harder by the second not to throw you on this bed and make you mine.” He all but growls before clearing his throat.

Stiles gives you a wry smile as he shakes his head. “But now I’m in control of myself, I won’t do anything, not until you know everything. I won't let you do anything more with me, not until you know as much as we do.”

“Wow,” you whimper, clenching your thighs together as his words continue to stoke the fire inside you. You clear your throat and take a shuddered breath when Stiles subconsciously edges a little closer to you, so that your thighs are touching.

“What, you’re not even going to kiss me?” The words leave your parted lips in a breathy whisper.

“No.” His words are sharp and blunt. You wish it didn’t turn you on more but it does.

“What else do I need to know?” you question quietly. Licking your lips as you watch him closely, wishing that you could just get this out of the way and get to the good stuff.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, “stop doing that for starters, beautiful.”

“Why’s that?”

He chuckles quietly. “I think you know exactly why, so stop being a smart ass.”

Your nose brushes against his as you lean in the last little bit, “maybe you should tell me what I need to know Agent Stilinski, then we can get down to business.”

“Ugh, come on you little minx. Don’t do that to me,” Stiles groans, brushing his nose over yours softly.

“Just a little taste,” you whisper before moving in and pressing your lips to his. Stiles sighs in defeat and pulls you closer.

“Fine. You win for now…” Stiles mumbles, pulling away briefly to meet your eyes, “but we’re not doing anything permanent. Not until we talk.”

“Yes Sir,” you grin, throwing off your duvet and climbing into his lap. The sleep shorts you’d pulled on before bed pull tight against your ass as you settle your knees either side of his hips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, letting everything you have ever felt for him pour into the kiss. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue moves to brush against yours. The kiss quickly deepens and you feel his fingers beginning to dig into your skin soft harshly, but it only makes you want him more. You whimper as the passion intensifies and you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You can’t get close enough to him for your liking, It’s almost like you want to be a part of him.

“Please,” you moan against Stiles’ lips as he pulls your hips tighter against his.

The rigid length of his thick cock settles between your thighs, and you can’t help but whimper as you experimentally roll your hips over him.

“Don’t, Sadie.” Stiles demands, his eyes glowing purple once more, only this time the colour doesn’t leave his eyes and you quickly stop your movements.

Stiles tightly grips your ass now in both hands and his fingers dig into your bare skin. You cup his cheeks and watch him closely as you tell him what you need to. Both of you breathing heavily against each other's lips, then the lust that was thick in the room quickly begins to fade.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, we should talk.” You sigh regretfully, looking down into your lap as you drop your hands to his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” Stiles asks you, moving his hands up and gently squeezing your hips.

“I guess I’ve just wanted this for so long, you and me I mean. I never even considered you’d look in my direction.” You look up to meet his eyes, instead you find him chewing on his lower lip. “What?”

“How long?” Stiles asks as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips.

“What does that matter?” You ask nervously, looking at the wall behind him, too afraid to meet his eyes.

“I’m just interested. I never noticed anything, you never said anything.”

“Come on, Stiles. You’re my big brother’s best friend. I’m just some huge cliche. Not to mention the fact that you’ve been in love with Lydia for so many years. I accepted a long time ago that I never stood a chance. Maybe this thing between us will just fizzle out soo-”

Stiles cuts you off when his lips meet yours, you squeeze your eyes shut as a tear rolls down your cheek. You wrap yourself around him tighter, doing your best to hold onto whatever this is for as long as possible. Stiles threads his fingers through your hair as he attempts to pull you closer. Both clinging to each other as you pour everything you have into a kiss once again, too worried this will be your last. Stiles pulls away slowly, giving your lips a final soft peck.

“I might not know everything about us just yet, but don’t say that we’re temporary. I’d never do that, not to you. I don’t want you ever even thinking that ever again. This is exactly why I said we needed to talk.”

You sigh and rest your forehead against his, “okay, so talk.”

“Okay. So I guess we should start from the beginning. Back when Scott turned eighteen he started having these urges. They were so intense and he really struggled to stop himself from taking every opportunity to be with Alison. When I say be with Alison I mean like be with her,”

“Okay, eww. Stop with the visuals I get it.”

Stiles clears his throat, failing miserably to hide his laugh before continuing. “Anyway, it didn’t matter where they were or who they were with, they couldn’t stop themselves. Frankly I almost threw up on several occasions, frankly I’m surprised that you didn’t notice. Anyway, it only got worse, he started getting visions, he was unbelievably possessive and protective of her and anyone who was around her got the brunt of it, specifically men.” Stiles gives you a sheepish smile as he pulls back to look at you.

“Okay, so some of this sounds familiar…” you trail off, admiring the way he looks in that moment.

“Right, I’m getting to that. So, when Alison started acting out, feeling things that were far from the usual, experiencing not only her emotions but Scott’s as well, amongst a bunch of other things you’ll probably soon notice with us, he went to Deaton for help. Scott asked Deaton if he knew what the hell was going on with him and with Allison, especially since she wasn’t a wolf. As it turns out the good doctor had some idea, he’d been doing some more research into the whole true Alpha thing, while the research is limited, for obvious reasons, it did mention something about the true Alpha and their pack having mates. Where regular werewolves aren’t heard to have mates specifically, Scott is different, and by extension so is anyone in his pack. More specifically the wolves he has turned will be the ones more likely to be affected.” You can almost feel his excitement the more he talks, and his grip on you tightens.

You gently pry his hands off of you, doing your best to ignore the hurt look that crosses his face when you climb off of his lap, moving to sit beside him instead.

You’re pretty sure that you’re starting to connect the dots, as much as you want to listen, you can’t deny that you’re becoming increasingly nervous the more that he talks.

“Please, don’t run. Not again. I know this is alot to take in, but…” you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m not gonna run, Stiles. This is just a lot, and it only confirms everything I was worried about to begin with.” You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. Stiles carefully and hesitantly wraps an arm around your waist and tries to pull you closer.

You can’t deny the comfort you feel being close to him, his skin touching yours only adds to everything you feel.

“Okay. It’s your turn to talk, what exactly is it that you’re worried about?” Stiles asks, turning your face so that you’re looking at him.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek as soon as your eyes clash with his, “let’s be honest here, Stiles. If it wasn’t for this whole mate bond thing, would you have even looked at me twice, in a way that wasn’t like I was your sister? Can you honestly tell me that anything would have changed between us if Scott hadn’t been forced to bite you that day?”

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as you watch him, you can see the unease written all over his face. However, that only serves to prove your point and that just breaks your heart that much more.

“It doesn’t matter how things used to be, Mini, things damn well change. And we don’t know what would’ve happened. Please, don’t talk like this. It feels like you’re saying goodbye before anything even has a chance to start between us.” Cupping your face he wipes your tears away carefully. “Please, stop crying.”

“Well we don’t know that now do we!?” You can’t keep your voice down, there are too many emotions swirling inside you uncontrollably.

You jump off of the bed and start pacing your room, fully aware that Stiles is yet to take his eyes off of you. Hearing you bed creek you turn to face the movement, watching as he slowly walks towards you.

“Goddamit Sadie! Just stop. I get that you don’t understand how any of this works, well neither do I, not really! Not first hand! I understand that you don’t see that I could go from not seeing you the way I do now, seemingly out of nowhere. But it was like a bolt of lightning hit me the second I saw you tonight. I laid eyes on you and everything made sense, I know that you don’t completely understand, but surely you feel it?”

“Of course I feel it! I’ve felt it for the last decade of my life! My feelings didn’t just appear overnight! They only got stronger. And It fucking hurts, Stiles!”

“Then why can’t we give this thing a go! Just let me try, please! You don’t know what this mate bond means. At least let me explain that. If you don’t want to talk to me, then ask your brother or Allison, I’m trying here okay! Just tell me what I can do?” Stiles begs, stilling your pacing when he gently takes you by the arms.

“I want to talk to you about this, whatever this is… I just don’t know what to make of all of it.”

Running your hands through your hair you inwardly groan knowing what you’re about to say.

“But first I need to ask you something, and I want only honest answers. Even if it means that I won't like what you say, because I need to know that I can trust you. Especially If we do go through whatever needs to be done to complete this mate bond.”

“How do you know you need to do something to complete the bond?” Stiles asks, a slight grin kicking up the corner of his lips.

“Stiles,” you sigh, folding your arms across your chest.

“Okay, sorry. Go ahead, I promise I’ll be honest whatever that means for us, I won’t lie.” He looks nervous, but there’s a determination you can see written all over his face.

“Do you still have feelings for Lydia?” Your voice remains even and steady, no matter how much you’re dreading the answer to that question. One thing you’re sure of though is that you can read Stiles like a book, always have been able to. Or maybe he just wasn't a very good liar, you just hoped he hadn’t honed that particular skill while working with the FBI.

Stiles smiles at you and shakes his head.

“Honestly, no I don’t, at least not in the same way that I used to. A few years back Lydia talked to me about it, the guys had been joking with me about it, she overhead and pulled me to one side. We talked for a while and I realised my feelings weren’t the same as they used to be, sure I still love her, but only in the same way that I love Allison, that’s it.” He takes your hand and places it over his heart. His heartbeat remains steady and controlled, and his eyes stay locked with yours.

You’re so shocked that you just stare at him for a full minute with your mouth open, but then he begins to look a little too smug so you decide to speak.

“So, let’s say I believe you. Did Deaton say Scott and Allison needed to do something to complete the mating bond? Or was it just a sure thing the minute Scott turned eighteen?” you ramble, fully aware these questions are practically spilling from your mouth.

“I’m guessing you’re using your brother and Allison to try and distance yourself from this. I’ll play along with it.” Stiles agrees reluctantly, and you hate that you have to use your brother and his girlfriend as cover, but you need to distance yourself from the situation a little.

“Deaton’s research indicated that a lot of the myths and stories around werewolves aren't so crazy. As it turns out there’s actually a lot of truth behind them. A werewolves mate is its other half, almost like a soulmate. So when they finally find each other it’s usually instinctual to mark each other. Obviously, like I said, Scott is different. Mates haven’t been mentioned in decades amongst wolves, not until now. So far It’s only been Scott and our pack that we know of, but still, it also means that not both halves are always wolves. Like with Scott and Allison, and you and me.” Silence surrounds the pair of you as you stare at him, he smiles and tucks a finger under your chin to close your mouth.

You frown when Stiles’ smile suddenly drops, and he seems to be contemplating telling you something. However, then you hear him sigh and he screws his eyes shut. When he does open them you see his nervousness and worry staring back at you.

“I should also tell you something else. Something I wish so badly I could lie to you about, because right now I’m terrified you’ll want to choose this option. But I meant what I said, I won’t force you into this, and definitely not without all of the information.”

“Okay. I’m listening. But don’t be so sure I’ll take the easy route.” You smile, trying to reassure him somehow.

Stiles seems to ignore your words, and the worry doesn’t lift from his face as he scrubs a hand over it before speaking.

“You can refuse to be my mate. You can reject me and I can reject you. We also both have the option to refuse or accept the rejection. But I promise you here and now that if you chose to reject me I would accept it. If that was what you wanted, I won’t stop you. But I will NEVER reject you. I need you to understand that whatever happens, It won't be me rejecting you.”

“Is it painful? To reject someone I mean? How would we even do that?” you ask with confusion lacing your tone.

Stiles winces as at your reply and looks down at his hands, which he quickly tucks in his pockets.

“If that’s what you want to do, I understand. But the selfish part of me can’t explain to you how to do it. So you’ll need to get Deaton to explain it properly, I wouldn’t want you to mess it up, not if you truly wanted to do it. But yes, it is. It’s apparently the worst pain a wolf can experience.”

“And you’d do that? For me?” you ask in disbelief stepping closer.

“I’d fucking die for you Sades. What’s a bit of pain?”

Your heart practically breaks at that statement, the look on his face alone could shatter you right then and there, so you decide to try and change the subject. Especially since you have no intention of rejecting him either.

“Wow this is a lot,” you half laugh in disbelief, running a nervous hand through your hair.

“As soon as I caught your scent, my mouth watered and I knew instantly what you were to me, even before I knew who you were. Then I saw you, and that need to make you mine was so insistent and constant that I felt it everywhere. But I wouldn’t ever do that to you, not without you having full knowledge of the situation. I was doing okay at keeping my cool, but then we kissed and I lost it.”

“Has Scott marked Allison?” you ask swallowing thickly when you don’t find yourself completely against the idea.

“Sure has, right here,” he rasps as he trails his finger along your collarbone.

“Scott wanted it where everyone could see it.”

He licks his lips as your heart rate increases, you take a step back as he advances on you, until your back hits the wall.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes once more, “have you thought about where you would mark me, if we did go ahead with this whole mating thing?”

“You little Minx are playing with fire right now. But since we’re being honest, I haven’t thought about much else. So don’t tease me.”

“C’mon! Tell me, please,” you whisper, unintentionally leaning into his touch.

Stiles chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, you can feel his eyes roam across any uncovered skin, almost like it burns under his gaze. He hums thoughtfully as he traces several places with his fingers. He starts by tracing the line between your neck and shoulder, before he slowly moves down, lingering on the curve of your breast a little longer than necessary and your heart rate speeds up as he makes his way down your body. His eyes saying everything that his mouth won't.

“So many perfect places,” he mumbles, moving next to trace the line of your hip where your t-shirt has ridden up, lastly he moves between your thighs, tracing along your inner thigh keeping his touch high. He’s so close to your pussy that you can feel an intense heat beginning to overtake you when his fingers dig into your skin.

“Guess it depends just how badly I want people to know who you belong to, doesn’t it? Or If I want it somewhere only I can see.”

You're speechless as you tremble with need in front of him, the need to have him inside you is almost overwhelming. You would do anything to please him right now, you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything. Stiles’ deep chuckle catches you by surprise as he leans in, inhaling deeply.

“I can smell your need, mate. You’re wet for me again, aren’t you?” he rumbles as he nuzzles into your neck. You’re fully aware it’s a statement not a question.

“That werewolf nose of yours is gonna be a real big pain in my ass, Stilinski,” you giggle as his breath tickles your skin.

He pulls back to grin at you again. “How about you? Where would you want my mark? I know you’re thinking about it, my little minx.”

Licking your lips you slip out from in between Stiles and the wall keeping your eyes on him. “Well, I could tell you the answer to that. But I think we’ve talked enough.”

You slowly slip your shirt over your head and Stiles’ rumbling growl fills the room. He steps forward and you step back another step, slowly letting your shorts drop, leaving you in your underwear.

“I think It’s only fair if we get a good, long, hard look at each other. You know, for research.”

Stiles doesn’t speak and his eyes haven't moved from your body. He quickly pulls off the black t-shirt he’s wearing, and you have to hold your breath at the sight in front of you. If you’d thought he was ripped before, dear lord were you in for a surprise. He has a six pack you could only dream of and he looks like he could throw you around the bedroom with those arms. That deep V at his hips has you itching to run your tongue along it.

You swallow thickly as he smirks at you, and those purple eyes return, only showing you that his emotions have some control over their colour.

“Well damn, you certainly healed up. Real fucking nicely.” You groan, licking your lips as he dips his thumbs into the waistband of his track pants, exposing more of that V.

“Glad you approve, Minx.” He grins, letting his pants drop to the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

“I’ve never been happier to be part of research. Because you look good enough to eat.”

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#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teenwolf #stiles teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #stiles and scott #my brother's best friend #Chapter 3 #mates #fated mates #marking #Stiles is werewolf #werewolf

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