#shit fact: ive never had any loved ones play with my hair. i imagine the serotonin would be powerful enough to knock me unconscious

[bubsdolan]

Can we get the next part to clingy please? I’m obsessed with that fic :)

{clingy gray masterlist}

“YOU KISSED MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“ex girlfriend grayson, im your ex girlfriend!” 

grayon’s deadly grip on his brothers body was instantly released. ethans feet touching the ground with a sigh of relief as he rubs at the now tender skin of his neck, where an imprint of his brothers hand now sat. ethan swallowed the lump in his throat as he flashed you a small smile in gratitude, coming in at the right time and saving him from a bad temper ready to burst and could potentially do real damage. like you normally did, you were the calm grayson needed whenever he felt a storm brewing, yet as of right now, you are the storm.

grayson was in disbelief, pressing the palms of his hands roughly into his eyes and rubbing servel times to try and abrub the sight in front of him. he was frozen in place when he reopened his eyes, blinking a few times to get rid of the little white dots in his vision and make sure you were still there, not a figment of his imagination. you came back for him.

“y/n, baby i-” grayon reached out to try and grab you. his hands fighting a gravitational force to the one thing he needed more than anything in his life. he needed to hold you and feel your warm delicate skin agasint his fingers after so many horrible and earth shattering weeks apart. he longed for the moment you would run back into his arms, shower him with kisses and forget the drama in your relationship ever existed. 

however, when you retracted your steps, distancing yourself further from him as you shield your body from his ever so inviting hands, avoiding his gaze when you turned to look at ethan instead- something inside grayson switched for the second time that night. his head bouncing between you and his brother, who appeared to be making silent communication, he was not apart of, with your eyes. grayson’s fists clenching at his sides, vein protruding from his forehead as he let out an almost evil, vemuous laugh. 

“oh i see what's going on here-” grayons gestures towards the pair of you, chest puffing out as he tried to make himself look as intimidating as possible. needing to feel like he has all the control and power over the room even though he was by far the strongest.

“you’re not here for me,” grayson sends draggers in your direction, running his hands through his already matted hair as he chuckles in realisation. his heart dropping as he tried to convince himself what he thought was true- his mind playing cruel malicious tricks on him. 

“what are you talking about? i came back for you, grayson! to hopefully sort it and get back to the place we were before all this shit happened. when we were happy-“

“YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH MY OWN BROTHER!” in the months you had been dating, grayson had never once raised his voice at you, never once lost his temper or directed his anger towards you. but at the way his eyes pierced dangerously into yours, his red and angry face meters from your own as his body trapped you between his intimidating build and the wall of the place you once called home.

it was the first time you were scared of grayson, terrified even. this wasn’t your grayson, the man you feel in love with, who stole your heart and made you whole. this was a monster of a man, a villain you didn't recognise and one you wished to never encounter again.

normally you would fight your corner, like you had done the entire time you were seemly at war with the dolan brothers, but right now grayson made you feel weak. he left you speechless and unable to defend yourself at the wild accusations he had created for himself. the way his body pushed agasint your own, send shivers down your spine- and certainly not in a good way.

when he lifted his hand up to run this fingers through his disentangled hair, you flinched and curled yourself deeper into your body for protection. a reaction you instantly regretted when you saw grayson’s face drop, a deep set frown appear on his features as his eyes soften briefly. for a minute you through he was going to breakdown and cry, or even apologise for his outburst, comfort you and wash away your insecurities, but all he did was push himself off you and walk away. shoulder bumping agasin ethan in aggression as within seconds you hear the heavy slam on his bedroom door.

you felt paralysed, tears welling in your eyes, fingers shaking as you certainly didn’t expect your return to cause this much of a uproar. this much fear and sheer panic.

“i’ll talk to him,” you feel ethan’s somewhat calming presence on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance before sending you a warm smile he knew wouldn’t be enough to redo all the hurt and pain he caused. you nod your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as all you could do was stand there, staring down at your feet to prevent yourself from breaking down. no words could escape your lips, you were stunned into slience for the first time in forever. broken.

“bro,” ethan takes a steady, clausius approach when entering grayson’s room. making sure to knock first before bursting in like he normally would. in any normal circumstances he would slap him brother upside the head for treating you with such disrespect - but this was far from normal and he knew he was to blame for all of it.

“fuck off, e.” grayson growled. not even acknowledging ethan when he doesn’t look up from the floor, images of the fear in your eyes haunting him. he was sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as his knees shook with anger. he saw red, letting his anger out on you, scaring you, making you believe he would ever harm you. grayson would never forgive him.

“bro listen to me, please,” ethan pleads with his younger brother, not moving a muscle from his position by the foot of his bed, besides to close the door and give the bothers some privacy. you had gone through enough and ethan wasn’t sure how this conversation was going to go. this was to save you another heartbreak incase grayson wiped his hands with not only him, but you.

ethan watched as grayson slowly met his gaze with a hard darkened one, cracking his knuckles as he took a deep breath and gave his older brother the attention he wanted. if you couldn’t get through to grayson, ethan was the next best person, but when grayson opened his mouth, he should have senesed his outburst approaching and backed down immediately.

“no, you listen to me ethan, this is all your fault! if you never would have opened your big mouth- fuck i might have just lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me. you- you did this!” grayson pointed his finger aggressively at ethan, watching him shutter and gulp as he was overcome with guilt.

all ethan could do was look down in shame. everything grayson was saying was true. he caused your heartbreak, he caused his brother’s world to collapse around him, he caused the broken relationship he now shared with his twin- his once bestfriend and soulmate. he took hit after hit as grayson finally spilled every last ounce of emotion he has been bottling up.

“why bro, why? could you not stand to see me happy just this once! finally something good, something of my own and you go and fuck it up for me! why-“

“it should have been me! i thought i loved h-her,” ethan breaks down at the truth, stalling grayson from his rage as he was frozen in his position meters away, eyes glancing to the door in hopes you weren’t able to hear the words they were exchanging. the words out loud made him feel sick to his stomach. his brother ‘loved’ his girlfriend and wished you were his happily ever after- how did it all end up going so wrong.

grayson wanted to scream at ethan, punch him, even though him out the house and his life, but when he witnessed the sobs, the vicious shaking and breakdown from his bestfriend, he broke too. call it twin telepathy, but he felt his pain.

grayson had to be the bigger man if he ever wanted a normal relationship with his brother, or if he even had the chance to rekindle your relationship- one that without, life simply wasn’t worth living.

“do you still love her?” grayson’s voice broke. not wanting to know the answer to the question, yet needing to in order to push past this. ethan’s answer was make or break for the three of you.

“i did, no- i, i thought i did, grayson, but bro, believe me i don’t anymore. i watched how happy you are with her bro, i watch how she makes you laugh, makes you smile, makes you the best version of you and i was jealous-“

ethan gradually moved closer to the bed, hesitant to sit down next to grayson and continue what had been bubbling up since the day you walked out all those weeks ago. grayson didn’t budge, giving ethan the green light to make himself more comfortable in the bed and beg for his brother’s forgiveness.

“i was in love with the thought of being loved. all my past relationships never worked out, i always got used and walked all over, but with y/n, she felt different. she isn’t with you for the money, the fame, or your name. she’s with you because she loves you bro, more than ive ever seen a person love anybody.”

ethan is cut off by grayson cries, his head hitting ethans chest as he clutches onto his shirt and simply just shakes. the fact he brother had admitted to witnessing the love you and grayson shared, it made him hate himself even more for everything you had been through. all your fights, arguments and breakdowns weren’t worth it. you needed each other, more than you needed air to survive.

“she loves you bro, fight for her.” ethan hugs his brother close. a sense of relief watching over him at the somewhat feeling of normality coming back. it felt good to be this close to him, to hold him and be the big brother he always promised to be.

he lefts grayson cry into his body for what felt like hours, shushing him and reassuring him that you- the person losing her mind in the living room listening to grayson’s cries, wanting nothing more to run in there and kiss all his worries away- was his endgame.

“ethan, thank you.” grayson wipes his eyes, composing himself to face you and put right everything that went horribly wrong. ethan was right, he needed to fight for you, not with you.

ethan padded grayson’s back, sending him a real genuine smile and bringing him in for one last bone crushing hug he missed and would never take for granted again. happy to have his partner in crime back.

“go get your girl back, bro.”

#bubsdolan #grayson dolan #grayson #grayson dolan imagine #grayson imagine #grayson dolan blurb #grayson blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson concept #grayson dolan fluff #grayson fluff #grayson dolan angst #grayson angst #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson x reader #ethan #ethan dolan #ethan dolan angst #ethan angst #ethan dolan imagine #ethan imagine #ethan dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins angst #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins x reader

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

#tw drugs #tw swearing #tw cannibalism #tw crime #tw food #tw homophobia #shitpost #out of context #out of context quotes #lumi's quotes

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader 

Length: 5.3k 

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk  but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part. 

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately. 

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks. 

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187 

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O 

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things. 

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment* 

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc. 

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way. 

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second. 

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?,"  You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you  to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #so nervous abt uploading this lol

[firemblem-fics]

SFW alphabet. | seteth

-> Pairing: Seteth x GN!Reader

-> Warnings: None

-> Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

-> A/N: this was chosen by a poll on my discord server except i gave no context in the poll so this is for y’all :) also uh im sorry if i’m not active in the next week, i rlly just had the absolute worst nervous breakdown ive had in a long while LMAO so uh ya might stay away from the internet for a while

warning, long post.

A -> Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

with seteth, affection STAYS private. it will never ever be displayed out in the open, especially not around the students. he prefers to keep personal relationships out of professional life

when he does show affection, though, it’s super slow and gentle. he always hugs you from behind and just sways side to side, pressing little kisses against your temple and cheek while you lean i to his embrace and close your eyes.

B -> Begin (How did the relationship begin?)

it didn’t really have a solid beginning. you just kind of wormed your way into seteth and flayn’s hearts unknowingly. when he asked to court you, you were super super hesitant because you didn’t want to replace his late wife. he assured you that she’d want him and flayn to be happy and that she’d 100% approve of you.

you still have your doubts, but seteth is always there to reassure you.

C -> Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?)

cuddling is saved for nights or early mornings on a day off. seteth is always itching to get up and get things done, so it’s a little on the tougher side to get him to stay. eventually he caves and lays in.

you cuddle facing each other, your head tucked underneath his chin and his legs entangling yours. his hand that lays underneath you plays with the ends of your hair while the other rests gently on your thigh, which is hiked over his hip.

D -> Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?)

seteth’s thoughts rarely every go astray, but when they do, he imagines what life would be like, just retiring from the monastery and living a nice life with you. he’d like to settle down eventually, but not any time soon

he’s super good at doing his part in chores and duties! of course he is, but he’s very very reliable and does things when asked. it’s nice

E -> Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he would sit you down and explain his reasonings and such. it hurts him, definitely, but he does well at hiding it. until you leave his office, that is.

F -> Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

not any time soon, as said earlier. seteth really will not stop his obligations towards the monastery and to fodlan. he wouldn’t have time nor would he want a very extravagant wedding, either. a simple ceremony would suffice.

G -> Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

physically, seteth is the epitome of a soft, romantic man. his touches make you melt and he’s always trying to keep you comfortable and happy. if you’re content, hes content.

emotionally, not as much. seteth has trouble sympathizing with some things. he’s used to pushing his feelings aside for the sake of fulfilling a duty or doing something, so he struggles sometimes to understand why someone else can’t do the same. give him time, though, and he’ll get better at comforting

H -> Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

seteth���s hugs are firm and warm. they’re always like a passionate embrace, as if it would be the last time he’d ever touch you

seteth really enjoys hugs and physical affection with you, but as i said earlier, it’s always behind closed doors. sometimes he calls you to his office just so you can sit in his lap while he holds you.

I -> I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

NOT fast. seteth is kind of in denial that he even had feelings for you at first until flayn pointed it out, so it’s rather hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that he loves you.

he does say it first though, as you’re half asleep, making you wonder if you even heard it correctly. you did.

J -> Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

seteth doesn’t get jealous, really. there’s really nobody around to even like, make him jealous. he knows that a bunch of weird ass teenagers like sylvain aren’t going to actually come in between his and your relationship. honestly, most people in the monastery probably don’t even know that you’re both in a relationship.

if he is jealous, he stays relatively nonchalant about it, asking you to help him with a task somewhere else to take you away from the person

K -> Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

seteth’s kisses are very loving and passionate. every single one of them are full of adoration, even the little pecks. they never fail to warm up your entire body as everything melts away around you

he loves to kiss your neck. not just for more intimate reasons, but because he absolutely adores your giggles as his beard tickles your skin

this only happens when your relationship has been going on for a while, but seteth really enjoys it when you kiss his ears. they’re super sensitive and they always tinge as red as his cheeks when you kiss them.

L -> Little Ones (How are they around children?)

seteth is super good around his own child, of course, but he doesn’t so so hot around other children. theyre often too rambunctious for his liking, but he’ll tolerate them enough to entertain them sometimes.

M -> Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

three words. soft, soft, and soft

you usually either wake up in the same position that you fell asleep in, or you’re spooning. seteth’s always the big spoon, no acceptions. if you’re spooning, he kisses your shoulders and the back of your head until you wake up enough to turn over and give him an actual kiss.

N -> Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

also soft, but a little less.

seteth is always so busy during the day that when he lays in bed, he falls asleep almost instantaneously. if you want to stay up and talk or cuddle, he’ll try his hardest, but please don’t be upset with him if he accidentally dozes off. he’s a hard worker

O -> Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait to reveal things slowly?)

this depends on who you are. if you’re the professor, you more than likely already know everything by the time you get in a relationship with him

if you’re not, then he trusts you enough to catch you up on most things in the early weeks of your relationship. sometimes there’s a little tidbit that he may have forgotten to mention in the talk that comes up later on, but that’s really it

P -> Patience (How easily angered are they?)

seteth has the patience of a saint

hehe

but no, literally. very rarely does he get irritated or impatient with you. you know how he is and know how he likes things to happen or be done, so you do them. kind of like in the Domestic headcanon, he does his part so you try your hardest to do yours. he doesn’t ever have a reason to be impatient with you and is actually rather understanding now that he knows how you function as well

Q -> Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

seteth remembers everything. literally everything. you’d think in his 1000+ years of life, he’d be an old ass man with shit memory, but no. to seteth, you and flayn are his number one priority and he’d never forget a thing about yall.

R -> Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

seteth’s favorite memory is when he accidentally walked in on you hanging out flayn. you two weren’t doing much other than reading and talking about your books, but it warmed his heart to see his two favorite people bonding

S -> Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

insanely protective, but like in things that matter. if you’re doing something that could get you hurt, he’s in defense mode trying to get you to safety. if you’re in battle, he’s sure to always know where you are just in case.

he’s not one to appreciate being protected- he feels like he failed to protect his people in the past, so to be the protected instead of the protector makes him a little iffy- but he’ll always admit that he needed the protection and will always show his gratitude

count how many times i said protect in that second paragraph wow

T -> Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc?)

seteth is romantic. he’s not much for physical gifts, but the memories and sentiment and feelings are so real and present that you really don’t need material things to know that he loves you

of course he does give you gifts, like a pretty bouquet of flowers that he saw in the greenhouse, or a necklace or something from the market that reminded him of you

U -> Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

seteth tends to forget to slow down and take a break every once in a while. he’s constantly finding tasks to do around the monastery and doing things to help rhea that he often neglects his own well being. you always remind him and try your best to help him out, but he never really breaks that habit

V -> Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

seteth is rather concerned about how he’s seen in the public eye. how could he not? he’s a very prim and proper man. this, however, doesnt extend to you as much.

he doesn’t expect you to dress up to the nines every day just to be seen around him or whatever. he may be like “darling, are you sure you want to be walking around the monastery in your pajamas?” but the minute you’re like “hell yeah” he lets you be.

W -> Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

this is a tough one, because i feel like seteth would do just fine on his own and would still feel relatively whole. but there would always be like this tiny little sliver of him that constantly misses you when you’re not around

X -> Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

seteth has a secret, super playful side that only comes out when you’re alone in your shared bedroom. he likes to play wrestle you and mess around just to hear your laugh and see you smile.

Y -> Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?)

in a partner, seteth wouldn’t really like someone who’s obnoxiously loud and blatantly disrespectful. it’s one of his biggest pet peeves and he wouldn’t date someone like that.

this doesn’t pertain to people who like, don’t realize their volume or is disrespectful to someone who deserves the disrespect, though. he doesn’t like just overly rude and jnconfiderate people who are like that for no reason

Z -> Zzz (What’s a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

seteth is the lightest sleeper in the history of the world. he’s always on guard for something to happen. i dont blame him, but sometimes even the littlest bumps in the night wake him up almost completely. don’t ever try to sneak out of bed because chances are, he woke up from you just opening your eyes.

if anything, this habit becomes even more prominent when you start sharing a bed with him. he’s just afraid of losing you is all 😃

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #headcanons #seteth #seteth x reader #seteth imagines #saint cichol #sfw alphabet #lay writes

[reineyday]

geraskier zoom conference hc's based on that 'and they were video conferencing' post

(this has turned into a fic in point-form oops; also it's more pre-slash 'cuz this quarantine is ongoing and i don't have any specific ideas about how a relationship discussion would go or be handled over zoom haha)

it starts as a group conference call between yennefer and triss and jaskier and geralt probably because yen and triss and geralt run some sort of small business and they need jaskier for something artistic probably (he's a freelancer)

let's say they have some sort of start-up to do with children's education somehow, inspired by ciri, and they want to start a small educational web series and they want music in each episode and so hire jaskier as a composer

geralt is in charge of episode content because this web series is gonna be about mythology and he has a masters in it and has done a fair amount of traveling for it (and lowkey has been learning about different kinds of myrhs and legends and heroes and monsters all his life alongside swordfighting thanks vesemir)

ANYWAYS at first they just talk about work: geralt knows which myths he wants to talk about and how, but can't quite come up with a good narrative because he has a bad tendency to ramble on about very precise specific details that get boring, and he also doesnt know how to set the tone for children despite having one himself

jaskier suggests they make the show centre around a hero that is a witcher who goes off on adventures meeting all these creatures, and jaskier already has some fun ideas for songs

jaskier thinks geralt isnt very forthcoming but he's clearly interested in the project and there's excitement in his eyes when he says ciri will like something they write together

geralt also gets kind of moody about inaccuracies (like a nerd 'cuz he is one lol), and jaskier thinks it's funny and likes to pull his leg by saying they should just change this detail or that detail and that he's allowed bc he's the composer and he's taking creative liberties

about three zoom meetings in, they decide the witcher should have a horse and jaskier says they should give it a name and geralt says "roach" and jaskier laughs and asks about cockroaches and geralt looks... petulant??? and says there are fish called roach too and he meant the fish, and jaskier feels fond and relents and says yes fine the horse's name is "roach"

the next video call they have, they start talking again about work and jaskier's trying not to focus too much on the fact that geralt has shown up with his hair braided but goodness it makes him look softer with the way it pulls back and some strands of hair escape to frame his face

geralt eventually notices and hmms his questioning hmm (and when did jaskier start distinguishing the difference?) and when jask asks about the braid, geralt's face goes EVEN SOFTER and says ciri can't practice braiding on her friends' hair at school anymore so she practices with him and jaskier's like "well fuck that's it this is it ive never even seen him in person but here we are this is a crush oh shit"

the first time geralt laughs is because in one of their meetings, jaskier decided he was gonna be chill and wear a work shirt but just his boxers with stupid cartoon pizzas on them, amd he feels so comfortsble he forgets he's just wesring his underwrar 'till he gets up to grab his acoustic guitar and geralt sounds like he was startled into laughter and yeah, that's right, he's wearing stupid boxers and he flushes but geralt looks pretty amused and jaskier did that so he's not too embarrassed

halfway through the session after that, where jaskier has given up on slightly professional looking clothes but has committed to wearing something over his boxers at all times, he hears some barking and he sees a german shepherd's nose enter the bottom of the frame by geralt's arm

jaskier is obviously like YOU HAVE A DOG and geralt explains ciri usually plays with him during their meetings but they decided to go earlier that day and when jaskier asks what the dog's name is, geralt pauses and looks a cross between irritated and embarassed and then says "roach"

jaskier laughs and laughs and geralt just looks on stoically and it's not on his mouth but jaskier can see the pout in his eyes, but after he's done laughing, all he says is, "like the fish" and geralt smiles a tiny smile and shakes his head and jaskier's a goner, truly

one day, jaskier is caught on trying to find the perfect wording and chord progression for one of the episodes, and focuses on his guitar and keyboard for a while as he toys with this key and that rhyme, and when he looks up, geralt is in a kitchen putting on tea and mixing something in a pot and it's an hour past when they usually hang up

"you could have stopped me, you know?" jaskier asks, but geralt looks at him and hmms and jaskier feels all warm goddammit

he tells jaskier to go take a break and jaskier obliges and brings his laptop to his kitchen and they kind of just have tea together for twenty minutes before something dings and geralt has to go 'cuz it's dinner time for him and ciri

the next meeting, geralt shows up and his daughter's there in the background and she has hair like geralt's and a sunshine personality the complete opposite of geralt (though they both give off disintguished kinds of vibes)

jaskier is charmed; she's a great cheerleader and a wonderful person to run ideas by especially considering she's the target age group for their show, and when she makes a comment about how she wishes she could play the ukulele she got as a gift two years ago, jaskier brightens up and says he can teach her

now jaskier zoom calls a little earlier so ciri can have a short ukulele lesson before his work meeting with geralt, and it's so nice whenever he hears ciri practicing off to the side or roach barking from out of the frame and jaskier wonders what it would be like to truly be in the house with them

the next meeting after, they go a bit too long again bc they were arguing (well, jaslier was actually pulling geralt's leg some more, to be honest, but he can't help it if that's how he flirts), and ciri shows up and says it's time for food and when jaskier says he'll leave them to it, ciri suggests he just stay on amd they can eat together

geralt doesn't immediately say no and actually seems to be waiting for jaskier's answer so jaskier says yeah okay, and he grabs some food and they all have dinner together and they get to talking and jakier and ciri bond over disney movies and ciri says she wants to watch them together the three of them and yennefer and triss

the watch party happens and over zoom yennefer seems deeply amused the entire time and triss keeps giggling and geralt seems extra annoyed for some reason but jaskier enjoys himself and sings along to the movie and he tries not to imagine sitting right next to geralt on his couch on the side not occupied by his daughter

jaskier wakes up with a headache very close to their meeting time one day, and kind of just opens his laptop while he's lying in bed and opens the window to wait for geralt to start the meeting while he reaches over to get his ukulele 'cuz it's the closest instrument to his bed and the easiest on his brain when it's pounding like this

when he settles back against his headbkard and pillows once more, geralt is looking at him with a frown and asks if he's feeling okay, to which jaskier replies he's fine it's not covid he just gets headaches every now and then and it sucks but he can still compose (and he shakes his lil uke at the camera)

geralt says no he should sleep and when jaskier pouts he says he's going to sit here and wait for jaskier to put down the damn ukulele and drink some water and eat a granola bar and then tuck himself back into bed and he looks all fierce about it while he says it and how can jaskier not lug his laptop around while he does these things and fall a little more in love

eventually it becomes totally normal for jaskier to just hang out for long stretches of time, whether or not they talk about their witcher web series, and they cook together and hang out in their pajamas and jaskier and ciri have their music lessons and their disney nights and geralt even starts getting him to work out during some of their work breaks by doing 8 minuts abs

(jaskier was pretty adamant about not exercising but said he's do it just the one time but after 8 minutes of pain, geralt was flushed and kind of sweaty and said he needed to chamge his shirt anf then just took it off right there on the camera before he walked out frame to grab a new one and jaskier had to rush to pick his jaw off the floor before going to change out of his own sweaty clothes and yeah so he does 8 minute abs with geralt sometimes now)

once, geralt sends him a zoom link for a meeting at 2am on a night when jaskier can't fall asleep (his sleeping schedule's been so fucked since quarantine started) and when jaskier joins him, he looks like hell and he apologizes but when jaskier says he probably won't sleep for another three hours anyways, geralt looks the tiniest bit grateful and asks if they can work so they do, and if jaskier writes a song that's a little more like a lullabye dyring their meeting, and feels like his heart is about to burst when geralt, who'd moved from his desk to his couch, nods off while jaskier softly sings to him, well... jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself after he makes sure geralt is properly sleeping and then leaves the zoom meeting

they work and work and really get to know each other and then, all of a sudden, there are no more songs to be written for their witcher series and jaskier says "that's the last song, i think" and geralt hmms but neither of them hangs up

jaskier bites his lip and says, "i'll see you at the team meeting we'll have with yennefer and triss to wrap up my contract, i guess?"

and geralt says, "you should add me on facebook; we should keep in touch for future projects"

jaskier tries not to feel too bummed out because this is still a connection point and also yay more creative projects with the hot man he is probably definitely in love with and also potentially more money! but he's still a little bummed and then he decides if he's going to feel bummed he should at least do something about it and he says, "i will! you know facebook has video chat too"

and geralt hmms again but there's definitely a smile, and it's even an actual smile! "im aware," he says, and then before he hangs up the zoom call he looks stern and adds, "dont forget about ciri's ukulele lessons" and honestly jaskier wasn't expecting to continue with them but he's relieved they can still keep doing those

he shoots geralt that friend request and sates the need to scroll down his wall by going through geralt's past previous profile photos instead (they're usually of him and ciri and they're adorable)

and then, delight of delights, the next day around when they usually have their meeting, there's a video chat request from one geralt of rivia coming through facebook, and even more delightful: geralt's clearly on his phone and he only waits on the screen long enough to make sure jaskier's there and to give him a quirked eyebrow and a trademark hmm before he turns the camera around and jaskier is treated to an outside view and a walk with geralt and roach via mobile

and thus geralt becomes a fixture of his every day life

#geraskier #rei writes #rei rambles #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #long post

[izukult]

This is such a cute idea! I’m addicted to making weirdly specific Spotify playlists so this is perfect. I have an ✨eclectic✨ music taste but my favorites are usually bedroom pop (mxmtoon, chloe moriondo, khai dreams, etc), romantic classical (think Debussy and Revel), and indie (although I like some Megan Thee Stallion, AC/DC, Nirvana, etc when I’m hyping myself up). As far as my personality goes, I’m pretty insightful and like to support people whenever I can, even if I don’t know them well. I can be a little chaotic sometimes, but I like to think it’s a chaotic good. I love tea, blankets, philosophy, deep conversations, the outdoors, and writing. I’m also an INFP and a Taurus :)

Sorry if that was too much, thank you so much! Take care of yourself and stay well

- Elle ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

( @snoozless ) you don’t understand how bad i want to be your friend. 😐😐 ok so you kind of get bonus 😀 but it rly might not be bonus because akfjakdkw. so, i gave you matsukawa!! but he’s not always like revered about so if u want a character lmk!! i am. in love w him tho. you’re so sweet you would balance him out and yall would be equally chaotic together.

he would have philosophical questions w u!! he might just be a little blunt & might accidentally cut the convo short, but he would listen to everything you said.

he’s used to a wide variety of music bc i’m convinced the seijoh playlists are absolutely fucking cracked like so loud. so he really could sit there and listen to anything. and i mean ANYTHING. like if you wanted to put on christian rock he’d awkwardly try to tap his foot on beat for you.

but, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna geek over you i feel like he’d be pretty private about the relationship. he’s not like secretive but he’s not gonna post you every two seconds yknow? he wouldnt put prom photos, but if yall went to look at the stars or go on a little hike he’d take a pic and youre wearing baggy sweats and one of his shirts and your hair isnt brushed for shit and it’s way too dark to properly make your face out and he’d put that shit on his main absolutely 😒

this man would be the kind of mf to look up his “crush’s” zodiac just for shits & giggles, so if he randomly knows a taurus fact, don’t question it<3 (he looked up your compatibility and he will take that to the grave)

issei is an infp idc. so yall got that in common.

he’s genuinely so pretty.

bc i took so long, i’m going to put descriptions for all the songs i love you thanks for requesting sorry for taking forever i’ll link the playlist and list the songs<3

1. silly girl- chloe moriondo

okay while this song is actually kinda sad, i think tHIS is pretty cute. issei comes off as this intimidating guy, and the more you get to know him the more you forget ab this idea of him you had or whatever? like the lyrics “i made him perfect, cause i wanted him to be” are really prominent in the point i’m tryna make because like even tho the lyric is obviously sad bitch shit, music is up for interpretation and this is like “hello ok he actually a real mf and shiiit maybe he cool😁✊”

2. nice boys- TEMPOREX

kinda sad. i don’t care how unemotional he might act, everyone has shit that brings them down. PLUS HES A PISCES THERES NO WAY HES NOT SAD SOMETIMES. this song just really taps into insecurities for him, and the song just gets under his skin in like a very therapeutic way. also “because he’s a pisces” some of his emotions are super intense so the “because he cares too much” line hits him fuckin hard

3. IV. sweatpants- childish gambino

this is some shit he listens to more with his team, absolutely. no doubt they blare this shit during weekly practice. but, he really really likes the song. so, when you’re hanging out and he has the aux? it’s one of the first ones he puts on. you two jam to it together. he’ll come up w dumb little dances to fit with certain lyrics (stole some of them from oikawa and hanamaki, but he won’t tell you)

4. you get me so high- the neighbourhood

okay unfortunately i must say him and hanamaki get fuckin faded in empty fields at two am all trashy like. but they make it look good idc. and if you smoke, cool, if you don’t he does not care. he always associated getting high with,,, getting high and everytime he listened to this song it just was one of his getting blazed jams, but now he’s got like a different kinda “euphoric” feel with loving you? like i said this bitch is a pisces even if he doesn’t overwhelm you with affection, he thinks ab you 24/7

5. 80’s makeout session- dacelynn

thIS SONG IS SO CUTE. but it’s p self explanatory. in love and also spare a kiss pls

6. can i call you tonight- dayglow

i feel like actually coming to terms with genuine feelings for someone would be kind of weird for issei. like no offense, but he sees it as kind of a pain in the ass. i genuinely think he would be someone to put his all into work or a task in front of him. he’s super intuitive, and constantly uses it to be better. whether it’s in volleyball or like cremating ppl i guess (HE WORKS INA FUNERAL HOME POST TIME SKIP IF U DIDNT KNOW). and it’s the same in relationships, but it’s also harder because he can’t have this complete clear head because you make his brain go kinda fuzzy. so, this song is like his little way of expressing that even tho he was like ‘internally conflicted’ this mf chose to go for it and that’s how much u mean to him

7. clair de lune, L. 32- claude debussy

i’m gonna be fucking honest with you. even though he’ll listen to anything, i really don’t think this man is looking up ‘classical romance study tunes’ playlists in his free time. he definitely enjoys the music, but that’s only if someone points it out to him. and he’s listened to you talk about it before, and watched you as you heard the piano and gauged your reactions and thought u were pretty cute he’s not gonna lie😼. so he definitely just looked up classical romance and picked the first recommended song and added it on there. he’ll dance w you a lil bit, but it wouldn’t be that quiet, intimate slow dancing in the dark you think would come w this song. itd just be a little sway as he hugs you from behind while you get water, or he twirls you once randomly with a laugh UGH I LOVE HIM

8. like real people do- hozier

ok. this one was fun for me. idc. double meaning lol. so this song is literally about two dead bodies in a bog and ,,, and he works in a funeral home PLS LMAOFJAJDJA I THINK THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY AND SO DOES HE. but also this song literally is my idea of love. this is my idea of love. and yall listen to it, with your stupid little death joke, but he looks at you and he’s just like ‘oh’. yknow? YKNOW?

9. BS- still woozy

like i said, i think he puts a lot into work. and he literally plays for a powerhouse school there’s no way he doesn’t practice a lot. so that means there’s a lot of time where he’s physically not there and definitely can’t text, because he’s trying to improve. and while he wouldn’t stop volleyball for someone else, he understands that you are like super amazing for being so Cool with him not being the most available. the song just reminds him of how compassionate you are and also he does miss u when he’s at practice YKNOW?

10. i <3 u- boy pablo

this one made me so fucking soft ew. ok. this song reminds him of you so so much. he’s totally okay being vulnerable with you? and even though he has pretty heightened emotions, he’s never felt like so strongly for smth other than like ??? volleyball and caring ab his siblings (BUT HE FEELS DIFFERENT FOR U THAN HE DOES FOR A VOLLEYBALL AND HIS SIBLINGS PLEASE😁). HE LUVVVVV YOU

11. heart-shaped box- nirvana

so many reasons. for one, simply fucking JAM. yall would scream this on a drive. if you ever got drunk together, this would be the first song you play. also, little lyrics remind you of each other. (the pisces lyric in the first and third verse, and even tho the flowers aren’t being used in a sweet sense in the song he does remember talking ab flowers w u, and now any flower is mentioned and he’s like “ah yes. my girlfriend.”)

12. pluto projector- rex orange county

FUCK. FUCK THIS SONG. GOD. NO. LIKE HE REALIZES HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. HE T E L L S YOU HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. the first time, he just sends you the name of it like ‘pluto projector <3’ and you listen and it’s so sweet and ur like ayo turn this shit up. and he adds it to your playlist, which definitely gets a smile from you. and then one night like two weeks later youre just laying together, and he’s running his fingers through his hair and he pulls away for a second to grab his phone and he turns the song on and you just listen to it in silence and it’s so fucking intimate. and he’s just like “i don’t think i’ve ever related to a song more” and you think he’s making a joke so you tell him to shut up (also jokingly) and he just laughs and it’s dark in his room and he’s playing with your hair again and he just goes “god, if you’re telling me to shut up over that i don’t even want to imagine how you’re gonna react when i tell you i love you” and it’s right around 3:10 in the song i’m literally so gone for him. bye you cry and try to hide it but he can tell HES PERCEPTIVE

13. i wanna be yours- arctic monkeys

okay for one, it’s a good song. it’s a song he absolutely let’s play in the background, just to cover the static lol. but also? ALSO? THE TITLE APPLIES TO YOU THE FUCK? it’s as if,,, he’s whipped,,

14. supermassive black hole- muse

hanamaki prolly showed him this song, and it’s one of his vibe songs. he will do falsetto while singing it if he’s in a really good mood and it just makes everyone laugh, including himself. it actually kind of grosses him out, because this song used to literally just be a song he would aimlessly go hard to but NOW his little bitch ass is like “you set my soul alight”? i guess i relate and “oh baby, i’m a fool for you” well, surely i’m not a fool but yea i get you muse sing it. it’s so gross. at this point he wants one thing that doesn’t make him think of you, just to prove that he’s not that gone, but he struggling

15. desperado- rhianna

i’m sorry to say it but this song makes him feel like a bad bitch LMAOOOOO. like if he’s ever getting pregame jitters or anything, he will just play this song. whether it’s on the speaker or in his headphones, he puts this shit on full volume and gets a lil too cocky LOL. this is also on the main seijoh playlist no doubt. he wants to share his bad bitch song w you, so you can aLSO feel like a bad bitch?? dUH

IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT BABES! IF YOU WANT ANY OF THE SONGS CHANGED (or even the character) LMK!! UR AMAZING ur so sweet it makes me ill

#haikyuu #haikyuu playlists #ikigaitooru playlists #matsukawa issei #mastukawa x reader #matsukawa playlist #haikyuu x reader

[intricate-oeuvre]

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part XI

Word count: 2.5k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: nakedness, bad grammar. angst, Geralt doesn't know what are feelings

A/N: I have certain schedule when I post updates. that is, the last part has to reach certain note count before I upload the next part. THANK YOU FOR READING!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

What? Axelia’s eyes grew big, small confusion settling in her. She looked around. Shit.

This was his room.

That’s why his shirt was there.

As she heard him drop his boots and unbutton his pants, she sat up straighter, her hands sliding to the edges of the tub.

Next second she was out of the bath, drenched like a rat in pouring rain and with swift hands grabbed the towel to press it against her chest. But Geralt was as fast- his hands encircled her waist and held her above the ground. Axelia let out a shriek and started kicking and hissing at him.

“Towel. Drop it.” He said to her.

“Geralt. Put. Me. Down.” Axelia hissed at him. He did put her down, but didn’t let go of her.

“Get back in the tub or I’m going to throw you back in with the damned towel.” He threatened her.

“You wouldn’t.” Axelia gasped. But then again, this was Geralt who they were talking about.

Next second Axelia was under water, alongside her towel. With splutter and angry grunt, she rose up, the towel all wet now and soaked as it rested on her head.

Axelia looked as some kind of a vile monster- her hair, spread across her back and shoulders like sea-weeds and the drenched towel on her head and face. She pulled off the towel and with stare that could kill, Axelia looked at Geralt, who was now in the tub opposite her.

“There you are, princess.” He teased her in mock sarcasm. Axelia opened her mouth as water poured out from it, making Geralt bark out a laugh at her. She hated that Geralt called her like that.

It had stuck with him when he had heard Eskel call her like that because she was the only girl around the school. They all were drunk at the time and picking drunken fights with each other and just primarily having great time. When fellow witcher had said that she should be treated as a princess, since she is the only female witcher, ever. She had smacked Eskel in head with a wooden spoon for that. And right after that Lambert also had called her a princess, which earned him- a smack of spoon on his forehead too, without a doubt. They all were too drunk to fight back. Of course, Geralt had to jump in on it as well. He had been sitting across her, and as Axelia had leaned across the table to smack him in the head with the spoon, he had leaned back, out of her reach. With grunt she-witcher had climbed swiftly across the table top, grabbing onto his shoulder and thus making both of them fall on the ground with laughter as she just had balanced the spoon on his forehead. But those were absent times now.

“You, complete arse.” She spat, and threw the wet towel at him. With smack it landed on his shoulder. Still chuckling, he pushed it to the floor.

Axelia stuck her tongue out at him. Geralt didn’t seem to notice that, now more content on getting himself clean as he scrubbed his arms with washcloth.

Axelia only huffed and dragged her hands upward her face, to get hair out of her mouth and eyes. Her hands staying on sides of her head, elbows raised.

“I’m getting out.” She said, more to herself than Geralt, as her hands flew to the edges.

“There’s no towel.” Geralt answered mater of factly.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” Axelia turned and hissed at him. With a grunt she rose from the tub and stepped out. She didn’t shy away from him. Nothing he hadn’t seen before and vice versa. With her bare back to the witcher, she stopped at the table and carefully picked up the rings. One at the time, and slid them on her pale fingers. Her skin felt soft and ample from the bath. Meanwhile, Geralt looked at her, shamelessly letting his eyes travel along her back, watching how water droplets were running down her figure.

Gathering all of her rings, she made her way towards the curtains and disappeared behind them, leaving witcher to bathe alone.

For some time, he enjoyed the bath, basking in silence when someone out of nowhere, emptied a bucket of water on his head.

“I said you need a bath!” Axelia laughed behind him, bucket still in her hands. With hands on both sides of the tub, Geralt turned to look behind him, at her, water running from his hair, down his face.

She was dressed in his black shirt which barely covered her bottom, leaving enough for one’s imagination; one sleeve rolled up as the other was left loosely dangling around her wrist. But other than that, the shirt itself was neatly buttoned up.

“Come here.” Geralt tried to reach for her, but she took a quick step back, dropping her hands at her sides.

“Bathe. Then we’ll talk.” Axelia said seriously, leaning down to put bucket on the floor.

“Hmm. Don’t trust your talk. You usually run away.” Geralt grunted, his eyes catching her movement a she pulled the stool and sat down on it. Hands length away from him.

“Where am I going to run- naked?” Axelia hummed in return as she put her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands.

“In my shirt.” Geralt corrected, leaning back against the tub, his eyes scanning her form. Axelia hummed, and just stared at the edge of the tub.

“Thank you for having my back, I guess.” She mumbled.

“Hmm… You are an absolute idiot.” Geralt tilted his head back, looking at her down his nose as his hand was circling in the water, sending small ripples across the surface.

“I know. I though there’s going to be only couple of ghouls.” Axelia sighed.

“In old war crypt? Only ghouls? I thought that papa Vesemir taught you better.” Geralt raised his eyebrows as he ducked his head towards her, almost seemingly similar to a inquisitive way.

“Fuck off.” Axelia wasn’t having any of his jests. “I have made enough of a fool out of myself these past days.”

“Have you now?” He said, running wet hands through his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me. You, of all the people.” Axelia grunted and turned her whole body away from him.

“Axelia.” Geralt hummed defeated, his hand reaching for her knees to turn her back, facing him.

“I know I fucked up. Don’t lecture me.” Axelia looked at him.

“I’m not.” Geralt assured her, studying her features, and the fact that she was playing with her rings.

“Show me.” He extended his hand, waiting for her to take it, in a way distracting her thoughts. She putted her hands in his.

She had started wearing rings, when Geralt had brought one for her when they were younger and he had gone for his witcher travels and she had stayed back. The first ring he got her was a dainty one, because he hadn’t been sure, if she would like it. Simple silver band with three dark crystals on top, that was sitting on her left hand’s fourth finger. Another one of his gifts had been a much more colossal one- silver wolf head. Situated on her right hand’s pointer finger. He run his thumb across it, but didn’t dwell long on it. Third one, that he had gotten for her was another smaller one, this time with white rock that had translucent turquoise tone to it. It had reminded him of the mix of her old eye colour and the one she had now. This one was gracing her right hand’s ring finger. With two other rings he was not familiar with. He looked at the two small silver bands, simple, nothing on them, just adorning her left hands middle and pointer finger.

“All silver.” Geralt stated.

“Yes. Because you said you won’t let me have those silver wolf brass knuckles. These come as handy. Especially strangling wise.” Her statement made him look up at her with this weird expression, like he was repelled or something.

“Oh, don’t you look at me like that.” Axelia pulled both of her hands away, but Geralt was quick enough to grab one before she pulled away entirely.

“Experimenting, are we?” Geralt laced his fingers with hers.

“You know that I never slept with anyone else.” Axelia’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Jaskier?” he raised questioning eyebrow at her.

“Gods, no. Never went as far as kiss him. He gets… distracted, if you will…” Axelia’s own brows creased as she was trying to search for words.

“He loves everything that has two legs.” Geralt offered.

“But he’s a good friend.”

“Hmm.”

“You and Yennefer. She’s as mother to Ciri.” Axelia voiced her observations.

Another hmm.

“Thank you…” Axelia trailed off, when silence stretched across the room.

“Thank you for saving me, for not letting me die out there and thanks to Yennefer too, I would have probably bled out without her stiches. Thank you for all the best memories—” Axelia started quietly.

“Why are you-” Geralt couldn’t understand why was she saying this to him. Whenever they met, she never voiced such things.

“I’m leaving in the morning. This time I’m telling you.” She looked him in the eyes. The scorching amber. A tone that one could never catch in a pendant.

“No.” Geralt’s eyes grew big as he gently shook his head, his hold on Axelia’s wrist getting stronger, but not causing any pain.

“We should draw the line.” Axelia shook her head in return tilting it sideways.

“You think that drawing a line will stop us from running into each other?” Geralt said, his brows creasing and his tone gaining an edge of irritation.

With shake of her head, Axelia pulled her hand out of his grasp.

“Don’t you think it’s exhausting?” Axelia sighed, hugging herself. Her wet hair falling around her shoulders in clumps. Geralt didn’t answer, he never really was on for explaining emotions, his own or others.

“I told you it hurts. To an extent that it almost physically hurts.” Axelia whispered, her voice dropping, almost fading into nothing.

“Axelia…” Geralt whispered her name in return.

“Aren’t we cursed enough?” Axelia suddenly turned to look at Geralt. Her eyes brimming with tears and her mouth unexpectedly going dry. The look on her face making the male witcher intake a sharp breath.

Running her hand under her nose, Axelia got up and disappeared behind the thick drapes. As she was nicking around the room and choosing which pants should she take, she couldn’t will the tears away. With huff pulling on new pants and tying her boots, Axelia sat on the edge of bed. Her legs looking long for her small stature and her shoulders almost gaining a lanky look because of Geralt’s big shirt. Woman’s hands falling in her lap as she looked around the room, her lips pulling in a frown as tears anew streamed down her cheeks.  Her marble-like eyes stopping at the drapes and blinking rapidly, she silently chocked out a sob, her mouth falling open. With sniffle, she dug the heels of her palms in her eyes, her nails digging in her head as she groaned in fury. She couldn’t ignore her emotions for long, she will explode. Yet it was the only thing she knew how to do. Running her finger under her nose she got up. Seeing her corset draped over the chair she swiftly put it on. Axelia glanced out of the window at the light that was slowly disappearing, and grabbing her stuff she was ready to leave the room. In no way, will she be staying in that room. Not alone, not with him.

“Already running?” Came Geralt’s voice as Axelia tried to reach for the door handle. She froze, sigh escaping her as one tear run down her cheek to land on her forearm that was not obstructed by his shirt.

“Maybe.” Axelia said, her voice gaining unusual tone because of her stuffed nose.

“I stand by what I said.” Axelia was referring to what she had said back at the edge of the forest.

“Please. Don’t follow me.” Axelia closed her eyes, her hand gripping the handle tighter.

“You think I can control that?” Geralt said behind her, pulling on his shirt.

“But you must. For my sake.” Axelia whispered, not sure if Geralt even heard her.

“Just… promise me that you won’t come seek me out. Never again… even if your gut is telling you otherwise.” Axelia looked over her shoulder at him, half hiding her tears.

“Gut? You really think it’s my gut telling me to look for you? No instinct, no witcher senses are telling me that.” Geralt spat at her, growing tired of her running.

“Then what is?!” Axelia swiftly turned around to look at him. Geralt grabbed stepped closer to her, kind of expecting for her to step back but she didn’t even flinch. Her eyes only following his movement. Then he grabbed her right hand and pressed to his chest, right where his heart was.

“This is.”

Axelia’s eyes stayed trained on his chest, on their hands. His hands always seemed warmer than hers.

“Yennefer… it’s all magic… djinn.” Geralt explained, his eyes searching her face.

Axelia’s furrowed, she wasn’t sure that she was understanding him. Did she hear him right?

“W-what?” she mumbled, her eyes closing for a second.

“The last wish,” Geralt choose to stay vague. “…to save her.”

For a second, Axelia’s nails lightly grazed his shirt. And then her eyebrows slowly rose up.

“It’s not real…” Axelia mumbled, and gently pushed herself away from him. Geralt tilted his head, not understanding her actions.

“But you love her…” Axelia looked up at him.

“But she’s not my soulmate.” Geralt narrowed his eyes at her.

Did he really think that after all this time of being completely alone, she will just run back in his arms?

“Took you a really long time to realize that, Geralt.” Axelia smiled bitterly at him. Now, when she thought that she will be finally ready to cut things off and fight this feeling of love, he comes prancing back, confusing her.

“Why now?” she looked warily down at her own hands.

“I could let you go only so many times. And every time I did… I regretted it. Didn’t matter if Yennefer was there or not nor Jaskier’s constant babbles of me being and stupid arse.” Geralt’s eyes were jumping from one item to another all around the room.

“It’s funny how fate has made us like this… You could break my heart thousands of times, Geralt. And I still would pick of every single peace and put them back into your hands. But I am not sure, if those pieces haven’t turned into sharp daggers.” Axelia hummed, her fingers toying with her rings.

“I rather be spitting blood and bleed out myself, than rather watch you leave one more time.” Geralt looked down at her.

Axelia looked at him. Unsure of what to do. Not knowing any better, she took one swift step and crushed into his chest. Missing his warmth dearly. With a small grunt from Axelia’s sudden movement, Geralt wrapped his hands around her, planting a small chaste kiss on her forehead.

~~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags:

@boiled-onionrings​ @fandomwithnolifesblog​ @901seconds​ @kingniazx​ @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong​ @stitchattacks​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @stormfire6​ @mr-illegal-king​ @stretchkingblog97​ @mikariell95​ @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia​ @martian-m​ @republicansithlord​ @notso-fetch​ @lizliz3107 @godlydolans​ @arsaky-lou​ @eternallyvenus​ @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith​ @writingmi​ @staringmoony​ @kenai731 @holychic​ @dramaticturnaway​ @ihopeyousteponarosepetal​ @seouldesire​ @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark​ @fandomhell97​ @newtdisneywho​ @ekaymnslvs​ @deansbbyblog @hopplessdreamer​ @dejewskoo​ @sleepy-bunnie​ @strangerliaa​ @puffedchoco @mommableaubear  @secretsthathauntus​ @sailor-moons-butt​ @sageandberries-png​ @star017​ @rahdaleigh

a/n: pardon, if Tumblr doesn't let me tag you

#deadly series #Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt von riva #geralt z rivii #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x #geralt x reader #geralt x oc #geralt x you #Witcher #thewitcheredit #witcher netflix #witcher x reader #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #witcher x #the witcher #the white wolf #the #witcher 3

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Holographic Sand is a Kickass Band Name

pairing: peter maximoff/OC(graciella decuerpo) (high school AU/not canon)

summary: peter learns that a fuckton can change in the course of a week

warnings: none? bad language and peter is simp but thats it

notes **please read**: Heyyyyy how are you doing? good? that’s great. so ik this fic is a peter/oc fic, but honesty i only use her name a few times and a few defining features but like. thats it. so you can totally just imagine urself in her position. also this fic is 5,550 words exactly. that’s the most ive ever written and I am SUPER fucking proud. I think i might become one of those blogs where i write super huge monster fics that im proud of instead of just writing to fill requests.if u dont want that then just lmk and i will not do that. i dont know. maybe. also this fic is peter centric because uh it is. anyways enjoy <3

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @simonsbluee

--------

Monday

           Peter sat across the room, his arms crossed neatly on top of his knees as he rested his chin on his forearm. He wasn’t paying attention to the lesson being taught in front of him, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again. Peter’s mind was a chaotic minefield of music and cheesy one-liners and random facts that he seems to just know. But this time, he wasn’t envisioning himself beating up a police officer or playing with Pink Floyd. This time, he was picturing a perfect world where nothing ever happened yet nothing was ever boring. Peter had built a utopia in his mind-- a kingdom created to his exact preferences. A blissful tower of joy and happiness and energy and satisfaction. A paradise where he stood on top of the world with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra  class, standing right next to him.

          Now, Peter was well aware that the pretty girl from algebra  class had no idea who Peter was. The pair had never exchanged more than a few words, but somewhere within those few words, Peter managed to decide that she was his soulmate. He’d created an image of her in his head that would make God weep tears of envy, the perfect personality for the perfect person.  Peter willfully ignored the fact that he was setting himself up for heartbreak as he imagined how nice it would feel to have her fingers intertwined with his. 

           All of Peter’s friends thought he was ridiculous, ‘you can’t love someone you don’t know,’ they’d say. Peter would only scoff and shake away their words. He absolutely can love someone he doesn’t know, it’s getting the other person to reciprocate those feelings that’s nearly impossible. However, that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing at night. That doesn’t stop him from imagining the various ways he’d confess his love to the pretty girl who doesn’t love him. Or maybe she does. Peter doesn’t know, he could never know; unless, of course, he worked up the courage to talk to her. 

          Scott constantly teased Peter about his one-sided infatuation, but Peter paid no mind to him. He was 100% content with his perpetual pining for someone who probably didn’t know his name. He was totally okay with the unending ache in his chest that would appear any time she walked by or met his gaze. Peter was alright with his ceaseless yearning and the eternal feeling of disappointment that overtook him every time he snapped out of one of his fantasies. He was a-okay with all of that.

          So, there he was, spacing out during biology class as Professor Hargreeves struggles to teach the silver teen about photosynthesis. The Professor looked at Peter with desperate eyes, soon deciding that having his usually energetic student be quiet and still was the silver lining of the situation-- no pun intended. Professor Hargreeves droned on as Peter glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until 7th period. Counting the seconds until he got to see the pretty girl in algebra  class once again.

Tuesday

          6th period was always the worst part of Peter’s day-- the dreaded english class. There were many contributing factors to Peter’s hatred for this class; the professor was a bore, the material itself was uninteresting, and Peter could never seem to sit still or retain any of the words he read in english class. Worst of all, english class seemed to go on forever, leaving Peter to impatiently wait for the bell to ring and release him to 7th period. At the end of the period every day, he was practically vibrating in his seat. 

          “Can anyone tell me what Juliet’s suicide is supposed to symbolize?” the Professor asked expectantly. Peter couldn’t care less about the symbolism of some chick’s suicide-- he’d much rather be studying the features of his algebra  class infatuation. 

          She sat next to him yesterday. There were at least 5 other open seats and she sat next to him. Yes, Peter read too much into it and yes, Peter spent the entire class period trying to make himself seem naturally cool, but he didn’t care. Peter would act like the most desperate, pathetic, lovestruck loser in the world if it meant that she would like him. They didn’t talk, they didn’t exchange a single word, nevertheless, Peter was in a state of euphoria for the entire class period. 

          Sometimes Peter feels like a stalker. He watches her whenever he can-- he doesn’t follow her around or anything, but if she’s around, he’ll stare at her. He has her features memorized, the curve of her nose, the dark brown irises surrounding her pupils, the way that she always seems to have chipped black nail polish on. He sees the small things. He sees the way she bites her nails when he gets bored and he sees the way her leg never seems to stop bouncing. She hums the basslines to songs as opposed to the melody. 

          English class came to an abrupt end as the bell cut off the Professor’s teachings as well as Peter’s distant daydreaming. Peter was out of his seat within seconds, his notes and books quickly being swept up in his arms as he walked out of the room. The hallways are crowded and chaotic and busy, each individual student attempting to get to their locker then to their class on time. Peter watches as kids swing their lockers open, fatigue and weariness apparent on their faces as they disappear into their classrooms. Peter reaches his locker hastily, the few small posters of classic rocks bands adorning the inside of his locker door. A playful giddiness overcame his body as he made his way to algebra  class, a small smile left on his face.

          Graciella shows up across the hallway, her bright red hair catching his eye in a sea of brown and blonde and blue. His stomach flutters as they get closer and closer to each other, finally meeting outside of the classroom. Her eyes rise to meet Peter’s, and instead of pulling away, Peter keeps looking. She smiles at him before disappearing inside the classroom, and Peter felt his knees get weak. With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, he walked into the classroom.

Wednesday

          Lunchtime; possibly one of the most enjoyable parts of Peter’s school day. Peter is free to kick back and stuff his face full of whatever junk the school board deems nutritious enough for highschoolers. Usually, he ate lunch under the bleachers with his friends, but in some sick twist of fate most of them were absent. So, Peter was left to eat alone in his usual spot.

          The quiet was comfortable, refreshing. The gentle summer breeze would blow every few minutes and Peter would listen to the rustle of the leaves. There’s a certain tranquility to being alone; Peter can lay back and relax and just… think. No stress, no panicking, no--

          “Hey, uh, Peter, right?” Peter’s eyes snap up so fast he’s afraid they would detach from his head and fall out. His breath faltered and his hands began to shake a bit-- why was he so freaked out? She was just a girl; sure, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and yeah, he was madly in love with her, but that’s besides the point. 

          “Uh-- uh, yeah, P-Peter. That’s, uh, that’s me,” He chuckled awkwardly, desperately trying to stay cool. Peter was an awkward person, but he’d rather die than fuck up his chances with Grace.

          “You dropped this on your way out of class yesterday, I, uhm, didn’t get to return it to you until now,” She holds out a small key chain with three small keys hanging off of it-- Peter’s house keys, along with the key to his mother’s car. He quickly takes the key chain from the red-haired girl in front of him.

          “Holy shit, uh, thanks! I couldn’t get into my house yesterday so I guess you saved me from another broken window,” Peter held up his hand and showcased the scattered pattern of small cuts on his palm. Grace laughed lightly before gently running her fingers over the cuts on Peter’s palm.

          “Oh fuck, dude, these look pretty bad. Maybe keep a spare key hidden under your welcome mat or something,” Peter doesn’t fully process Grace’s words; he’s too preoccupied with trying not to collapse at the feeling of her fingertips on his palm.

          “Hey, you okay? You look… pale,” Grace pressed the back of her hand on Peter’s forehead in an attempt to check for illness, but that just made Peter’s skin erupt in goosebumps. 

          “I, um, I’m fine. I’m just st-stressed about the algebra  t-test on Friday, I th-think,” To be fair, Peter was stressed about the algebra  test. Peter may or may not have spent the entire class staring at Grace instead of, you know, learning the material.

          “Oh! Well, if you want, I can help you study. I’m also kinda worried about it, and I study better with other people,” Peter silently thanked god for what was happening to him.

          “That would be fuckin’ fantastic,” Grace smiled a smile that made Peter shiver.

          “Cool! Uh, I’ll give you my phone number and we’ll meet up tomorrow. One day isn’t much time to study, but it’s better than nothing.” She pulls a pen out of her backpack and rips a small piece of paper out of one of her notebooks. Peter watches as she scribbles down her phone number and hands the paper to him.

          “Thanks. For everything, the keys, the studying-- everything.” Grace smiled.

          “It’s no problem, Peter, really. I’ll call you later,” And just like that, she walked away. Peter was left alone under the bleachers, a wide smile plastered on his face as he read the piece of paper in his hands over and over and over again.

Thursday

          30 minutes. 30 minutes until Grace Reaper DeCuerpo, the prettiest, nicest, funniest girl Peter had ever met would show up on his doorstep. She would be inside his house for god knows how long. She would sit next to Peter-- either on the coffee table in the basement or on the floor of his bedroom. Needless to say, Peter was freaking the fuck out.

          The plan was simple: Grace shows up, they study, they get comfortable, and she goes home. Yet, in those four simple steps, so much could go wrong. Wanda could interrupt, his mother could lose her temper, Lorena could start crying-- worst of all, Peter could embarrass himself and drive her away. 

           Peter was in the middle of reorganizing his record collection for a third time when he heard a knock at the door. His blood went cold and an electric excitement ran through his veins. Peter checked his hair in the mirror one last time before running to the door. He stood silently, staring at the chrome handle hesitantly. This was his one chance. His only chance to make his perfect kingdom real-- Peter really, really, really didn't want to fuck it up. With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

          "Hey, Peter!" Her voice was smooth and melodic and it made Peter's heart light up. He’s about to respond with something smooth and witty when a squeaky voice chirps behind him.

         “Hi!! Are you the pretty girl Peter talks about?” Peter can physically feel his face turn bright red as he turns to see his six-year-old sister, Lorena, standing behind him. She’s wearing a purple princess dress that has a syrup stain on the sleeve. Grace laughs before stepping through the doorway. 

          “Lorena!” Peter groans in annoyance, a pleading look on his face. The young girl just giggles before scurrying away, her dress flowing behind her.

          “‘The pretty girl Peter talks about’, huh?” Grace grins at Peter cheekily. Peter runs his hand through his hair before motioning to the staircase.

          “God, Lorna is quite the kid. Well, uh, we can work in my room,” He sighs. “And Grace? Uh, m-maybe don’t let Lorena change your opinion of me,” She just smirks before walking past Peter.

          “Too late,” She called before disappearing down the stairs. Peter could hear the faintest trace of a smile in her voice. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly followed after her. 

          She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and holding a backpack with various pins on it-- her left ear was pierced in three places and her right in five. The earrings she was wearing were black, or maybe grey; her bright red hair blocked Peter’s view of them. She was wearing rings, some odd words engraved in the metal. Peter couldn’t read them from where he was standing. She was wearing a skirt with fishnets, her hand buried in the pockets that seem to have been sewn in herself. She has callouses on both her hands, but Peter knew that already. Her appearance would put Aphrodite to shame-- suddenly, Peter was much less confident in himself than he was before. He ran his hand through his hair again before reaching the basement.

          He held his breath as Grace looked around his room, her gaze lingering on the plethora of stolen signs and band posters covering the walls. She placed her backpack on the floor and walked over to Peter’s record collection, her fingers carefully flitting through the different albums. She seemed… impressed. It was then that Peter realized it had been silent for much too long.

          “Y’know I can, uh, p-play some music if you want me to. You can just pick a record and, uh, I’ll... play it,” Peter winced at his words, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of the girl he’d been pining after since the beginning of the year. He felt like everything had spiraled out of control, and he watched idly as it happened. Then, Grace shot him a smile and pulled out a record.

          “You have a good taste in music, Silver,” No one had ever called Peter ‘silver’ before. He liked it a bit more than he should. “Although, that’s not really a surprise. I had a feeling you were cool.” 

          “You think I’m cool?” Peter asked, shocked. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

          “Oh, totally. I see you in the hallways sometimes and you always seem so… carefree. Genuine. I don’t know, I guess it’s just… you, ya know? You’re naturally cool.” Every syllable that rolled off her tongue shot euphoria through Peter’s veins. Grace DeCuerpo, the girl Peter Maximoff had dreamed of for almost a full year, was telling him that she thought he was cool. Naturally cool. 

          “I know a lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Peter joked. There was truth behind his humor, but of course, he didn’t want to get into his insecurities now. “They think I’m a total loser, which isn’t totally wrong I guess.”

          “Well those people are stupid,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smile. “Speaking of stupid, we should probably get to work.” Peter nodded before sitting beside her on the floor. 

          For three hours they poured over their algebra  books. They quizzed each other and checked each other’s work; Peter’s proficiency in simplifying radicals aiding them both. Every now and then their hands would brush against each other, or the conversation would stray away from school and into their personal lives. Peter learned that Grace had two brothers, one of which passed away when she was younger. Peter talked about Lorena and Wanda and his miraculous abilities in the same way that she talked about her hometown and her own abilities. The conversation was smooth and natural-- Peter didn’t feel like he was being too annoying or too chatty and there was seldom an awkward pause. The pair were content in their time together, not a single moment went by where one wished the other would leave. 

          Eventually, Grace had to go home. Peter wished that she could stay forever, but of course, that would be considered kidnapping. He walked her to the door, although Peter didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating.

          “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Silver,” Grace said softly as she turned to face Peter. She looked him in the eye and he could feel his stomach flutter. 

          “Yeah, I guess so,” She opened the door, but before she left, she froze. She turned to look at Peter once again. 

          “Peter?” she said. “You’re not a loser.”

Friday

          Peter could tell the second he walked through the front door of his high school that something had changed. The energy that radiated in the halls shifted from a dull buzz of boredom to a rush of anticipation. The students in the hallway looked the same as always; tired and anxious and wishing for the day to go by quickly. However, Peter wasn’t wishing for the end of the day, and he certainly wasn’t tired. He was determined and energized and absolutely terrified, because that morning Peter Maximoff made the most important decision a seventeen-year-old could. He decided that he was going to ask Grace out on a date. 

          Peter made the choice to keep this from his friends-- it’s not that he didn’t trust them, it’s just that Peter knew he would be teased for his infatuation. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He walked down the hallways with a brave face on, his eyes forward and his heart racing. Truthfully, the silver teenager was terrified of… well, everything. The looming image of a harsh rejection forced itself into his mind; the idea that she would laugh in his face made his heart break a tiny bit, even though it wasn’t real. Peter simply shook those images away and walked on. 

          The day flew by much faster than Peter was comfortable with, and for the first time ever, he was dreading algebra  class. He was terrified that he would walk through the door and have everything be exactly the same-- he feared that Grace would go back to not knowing who he was, just like before. Peter was alright with never being her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be a stranger. He didn’t think he could take being a stranger anymore. 

            So, there he stood, staring at the door to his algebra classroom from across the hall. He felt confident and prepared himself for the task at hand. In four long strides, he entered the classroom. Grace was sitting next to an empty desk, her eyes stuck on the small notebook full of doodles on her desk. Peter watched as her eyes raised to meet his, a wide smile forming on her face as she motioned him over. 

          “Hey, silver! I saved a seat for ya,” she called, and Peter felt his knees get weak. He then decided that he would wait until after class to ask her out. 

          “You did?”

          “Of course,” She grinned. “I like you, dude, you’re my friend,” Peter’s heart fluttered as he sat down beside her. Grace shot an odd look his way before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, you look stressed. Don’t sweat it, silver, you’ll do fine. We studied for, like, 3 hours yesterday. You’re gonna ace it,”

          To be frank, Peter had forgotten all about the test. The real reason he looked so stressed was because he happened to be sitting next to the love of his life, and the love of his life happened to be touching his arm. 

          “O-oh! Uh, yeah, thanks. I was just nervous because of… the test,” The bell rang and class began, the professor strictly laying down the rules that were to be followed while the test was in session. Peter could feel the lingering touch of her hand on his skin. It made his head feel fuzzy.

          Peter soon came to learn that sitting next to Grace during a test was a huge mistake. He couldn’t focus on anything other than her-- it didn’t help that she kept shooting him glances from where she sat. The numbers and letters on the paper in front of him seemed to rearrange before his eyes, instead spelling out various taunts. He feels a little pathetic for how easily Grace can unravel him, but hey, he’s a teenager. 

          The silver-haired boy’s eyes were struggling to decipher the words on his page when a small folded square landed on his desk. It came from Grace’s direction, and a small smirk had formed on her lips as she solved equations. Hesitantly, he unfolded the paper and read the neatly written message.

          Hey silver :)

          Peter smiled softly. He quickly pulled a pad of post-it notes out of his backpack and scribbled down a quick reply.

          I have no idea what I’m doing. I think Professor Stedman decided to write our tests in hieroglyphics this time.

          He flicked the note onto her desk and quickly turned his face downward. Class would be over soon, and Peter knew he couldn’t turn in a blank test. He uses his enhanced speed to do his assessment in seconds. Sure, he was almost certain he’d barely reach a passing grade, but hey, he had bigger matters to focus on. By the time he finished, another note landed on his desk.

          That bad, huh? Looks like we better study longer next time. 

          Peter’s heart swelled a bit. He really thought the study sessions were a one-time thing. He’s overjoyed to know he’ll get to see Grace semi-regularly, even if he never manages to ask her out.

          I think I’d rather hang out with you without the looming threat of schoolwork. 

          That’s the closest Peter could get to asking her out. He put deep thought into every word, he examined the phrasing and checked the spelling of every word. His english teacher would be proud.

          That can be arranged ;) 

          Peter had no idea that four words could make him feel so much. He had no idea that 17 letters could make him want to scream in the middle of a silent testing period. His hand was shaking and his careful planning was abandoned as he scribbled back a reply.

          Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

          Patiently, he waited. He waited for Grace to finish writing her response and he waited for her to toss the note back over. He didn’t wait for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panicking, and he was sure she could tell. She was probably joking, right? She was probably writing an awkward clarification-- she was probably explaining that she would actually rather die than be around him for non-academic reasons. He braced himself as the yellow post-it landed on the center of his desk.

          My aunt owns a drive-in a few miles from here and she gave me keys to the projector room and the gate. She managed to snag a copy of The Exorcist-- I thought you’d like to join me during my midnight escapade tomorrow night.

          Peter’s heart stopped. For a moment, he thought his eyes were fooling him. Maybe this was all some sick joke. Maybe he was being set up. Maybe he’ll get in her car tomorrow and she’ll drive him into the woods and murder him. To be completely honest, Peter wouldn’t mind if she murdered him. Peter wrote his reply.

          Really? You want me there? I might be a drag. You could probably find at least 20 other people who would probably be more interesting than me.

          Grace frowned at his response, and suddenly Peter decided he never wanted to see her frown again. She wrote confidently, her words solid and sure.

          You? A drag? Impossible. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, Maximoff. 

          This note was his undoing. He couldn’t help himself, he read it over and over and over again-- he almost forgot to respond. He wanted to hold onto it forever, he wanted it to be framed and hung on his wall. Hell, he wanted it tattooed on his arm. Peter had never been so happy while taking a test, that’s for sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say; he went from heartfelt responses to witty retorts. Finally, he decided to be totally and completely honest.

          I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Saturday 

          There was seldom a time in his life where Peter Maximoff felt wholly content. Even in the most peaceful moments, there was always something bothering him, there was always something to pull him back to reality. However, sitting in the back of Grace’s dad’s convertible with the seats down and the roof pulled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched a cheesy horror movie, Peter was as close to nirvana as he’d ever been. 

          Life had always been so hard for Peter. He’s always had to fight for his seat at the table, to claw his way into a state of mind that wasn’t a hellhole. It seemed as if the world was plotted against him; he was ostracized from society and taught that he, along with his closest family and friends, were monsters. He never met his father and his mother spent so long fighting her own battles that she forgot to love her kids. Peter had to steal to stay fed, and he had to do his best to raise his little sisters to be good people. But right there, right then? That wasn’t hard. Peter didn’t have to be anyone or do anything-- he just had to exist next to someone who wanted him. That was the easiest thing Peter had ever done.

          Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he got there. Of course, he knew that they had driven to the drive-in, but he wasn’t sure how he was the person next to Grace. They had spoken for one day, maybe two, and somehow he landed himself in the most perfect spot in the entire universe. Less than a week ago, she didn’t even know his name. Or, maybe she did. Maybe she was just like Peter-- maybe she had spent the past year pining for him, and finally she worked up the nerve to just talk to him. Maybe. Peter isn’t complaining either way.

          “Can I ask you a kind of cheesy question?” Peter is startled by the sound of his own voice. Grace sits up and glances at him.

          “Shoot,”

          “Do you-- well, uh, don’t read too much into this, but, do you believe in love at first sight?” God, he sounded awkward. 

          “Nope,” She said bluntly. Peter wasn’t expecting that answer, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “I mean, it’s kind of a stupid idea, ya know? Like, isn’t there a million poems and sonnets and books written about how love is this weird complicated monster of a feeling? I don’t think you can really love someone just by looking at them. You can love the idea of a person, sure, or maybe the look of a person, but you can’t love that person. Because a person is so much more than ‘first sight’,” she sighs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being a killjoy. It just seems dumb to me-- dumb and, I don’t know, exclusive,”

          Peter stops to think for a moment. He steps out of his lovesick chaotic hellbrain and looks at his feelings from an outside perspective. He thinks back to the kingdom he created in his brain-- a kingdom built on a foundation of sand. Or, less than sand. Holographic sand, because the sand he built his kingdom on wasn’t real. He made a mental note that ‘Holographic Sand’ is a kickass band name, then resumed his impromptu soul-searching. She was right-- he could see  that now. Scott was right, too. You really can’t love someone you don’t know, because if you don’t know them, you fill in the gaps. You fill in the gaps with what you think fits, and then the other person stops being them and starts being parts of you. Peter suddenly felt weird.

          “I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Grace interjects after a while. Peter hadn’t realized he’d been silent for so long.

          “You didn’t say anything wrong. On the contrary, you, uh, you made things a little bit more… right, in my brain. You somehow managed to take a little chunk of chaos and tame it, which is scarily impressive,” he joked. “Remind me to ask you your opinion on the meaning of life and the root of true happiness,” They’re joined in a chorus of laughter and Peter realizes that his little brain kingdom didn’t hold a candle to the red convertible he was sitting in. She slings an arm around his shoulders.

          “Y’know, I might not know the meaning of life, but I am pretty close to true happiness right now,” She says, softer than before. “Maybe the root of true happiness is you, Maximoff,” She chuckles. Peter smiles. He doesn’t want the ruin the moment-- god, he is desperately trying to keep himself from fucking it up, but he feels obligated to tell her about his year of pining.

          “Hey, uh, can I tell you something kinda pathetic?” He cringes at the way his voice trembled on the last word. 

          “Go ahead, Peter,” She used his name this time. Peter thinks she knows he’s about to say something mildly serious.

          “I’ve liked you since, like, the beginning of the year. You seemed so… cool. So nice. I saw you in the hallways and my stomach would get all twisted up and my head would hurt a little bit. It was like I was allergic to you, but I enjoyed it. That sounds weird. I’m sorry,” He stopped for a moment, attempting to take the buzzing mass of words in his brain and string them into a sentence. “I was too afraid to talk to you, so I, uh, asked around. I got other people’s opinions of you and then built a little version of you in my brain. I realize now that, uhm, the little brain version of you is like, way way worse than actual you,”

          When you talked to me the first time, you threw me off. I wasn’t really nervous about the test-- I mean, yeah I was nervous but that’s not why I looked so pale. I just wasn’t expecting for you to talk to me, like, willingly. So I lied because I was embarrassed. And I lied again in class yesterday. Because I was embarrassed,” He stopped talking. Peter felt like he was digging himself into a hole-- he felt like he killed the sweet sugary mood. 

          “Why are you telling me this?” Grace asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded a little confused, and she sounded like she was trying to help Peter decipher his brain. 

          “I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad. I feel bad for, uh, for not being honest I guess. I feel bad for being a coward,” Yep, definitely killed the mood.

          “Peter, you shouldn’t feel bad for being afraid, you know,” She assures. “I would’ve done the exact same thing in your position. Hell, I did do the exact same thing in your position,” That caught Peter’s attention.

          “What?”

          “You didn’t drop your keys in algebra. You dropped them somewhere in bio and my friend found them. She was gonna take them to the office, but I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I said I’d return them,” Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being pranked, he had to be. “Being awkward and weird is like a requirement in high school. Don’t sweat it, Maximoff, really. We’re all the same in that way, I think,”

          Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was feeling too much at that moment, he was letting the bad drown out the good. He didn’t want to remember the day in a sad light.

          “I like you. A lot. Even if you are awkward and weird,” He smiles softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with those of the girl beside him. It was a simple display of affection, but it made Peter feel like he was floating.

          “I like you too, dork,” Peter smiled widely before placing his head back on Grace’s shoulder. Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again-- but this time, he wasn’t standing on a false kingdom with a false version of the girl he liked. No, this time, he was thinking about the very real girl beside him. He was thinking about the perfect world they had created in the small car they were in; a perfect world where he felt so much emotion and so, so safe. They had built a utopia in the back seat- a blissful tower of awkwardness and comfort and clumsy confessions. A paradise where he sat in the back seat of a Ford Galaxie with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, sitting right next to him. 

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #sorta a little bit #graciella reaper decuerpo #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #high school AU

[lemonietrinket]

Be Nice to the Baby ||| San x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is ‘at war’, though you can’t understand as to why Genre: Crack/humour, some angst, happy ending with fluff Warning(s): Foul language (2x s**t, 1x f**k), mild jealousy over something rather trivial Word Count: 1913 Song(s): Cheer Up - Twice AN: this is an apology for how empty my blog has been if you ignore my reblogs. truth be told i have been writing, but everything ive written so far is birthday presents (so will come out on the day) or still not ready to be published so, here is a short thing in consolation :((

~~~

“Well good afternoon, little shit,” San announced as soon as his eyes narrowed upon his nemesis. He slunk over to the sofa before crouching to be eye level, a sour pout upon his lips. “I see you’ve already decided that you rule the goddamn roost here, but unfortunately for you I’m here to remind you that this is my house, and therefore my rules, and so you better give me back my fucking chair.” When he received no response, he spat a sigh, “Wow, how immature—silent treatment? Wow. What a... childish… child you are.” 

San rose to his feet, folding his arms as he would if lecturing a child or one of his group mates and stood his ground against his arch-enemy. He was met with a stony glare, unwavering in its force that quickly forced him to back down—not that he would admit it. As soon as he found his stare skittering away he sat down once again, raising his finger in an accusatory, jabbing point.

“I know what you’re up to,” he whispered, a snide laugh picking at his words, “yes! You can’t fool me. I know what your game is, what you’re playing at. You are a fool to try and best me in passive aggressive battle for I am the king!” Once again he was met with silence, that unblinking stare harrowed in on San and him alone, analysing his every move. The look was unreadable and he loathed that fact. He figured he could have ignored it, learned to get along with it but he had figured wrong—he had underestimated that look’s power, and he vowed to never make the same mistake again. This was the tipping point, something had to be done. He would not be beaten again.

“I know you believe that you are invincible but it is an arrogant belief, and I will prove it to you, as I will not let you steal my cuddles again.”

His opponent’s bright knowing eyes slid away from him as she licked her paws indignantly, paying no attention to his ‘threat’ in the slightest. 

San scoffed a shocked gasp. “How dare you—you feel no remorse do you?! You will do it again—you believe there’s nothing I can do to stop you! Well, mark my words I will get my hugs and kisses before you can get a word in edge-ways, you under—?!” 

A flat click resonated through the apartment as a key was slid into the lock on the front door. The creature before him immediately sat up, head raised and ears turned towards the origin of the sound, before she scarpered across the sofa towards it.

“Hey—wait—!”

Before he could even reach the doorway into the next room, the speedy lump of fluff had disappeared, followed by the creak of an opening door and concluded with a scream mixed with cooing.

“Awww, hello babie! How’s my lil sweet lionheart hmm? Yes I’m back now! I missed you too sweetie, I know you want cuddles, let me put my stuff down first ok?”

San crumpled to his knees upon the rug. It was littered with cat hair, only reminding him further to resign himself to his fate—one of which he couldn’t have even imagined back when he’d agreed to get a pet. He understood all the pros and had weighed the cons carefully but it still hadn’t been enough. He was being replaced by a cat. What a way to go out.

“Love, I’m—! Oh, you’re right here, hello!”

So preoccupied in his own wallowing he hadn’t noticed you head further inside until you chirped a greeting. You were smiling your classic beam that always raised his spirits, hobbling towards him as you tried to slip off your shoe without using your hands. Confused as to why you were making life harder for yourself he didn’t have to look far as there, cradled in your arms like a baby, was none other than his nemesis.

“Awww, was Sannie giving you a game?” his girlfriend cooed at the cat, who responded by rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. You continued to baby talk to her as you glanced at your boyfriend still moping on the rug, “Aw, baby, are you and Sannie getting along now? Are you playing well together?”

When he didn’t answer despite the fact it was aimed at him, the small clues fell together like a jigsaw and you were left sighing, “San, were you bullying the baby again?”

“What? No!” he spluttered, at last pushing himself off the floor, “Of course not! What do you take—she’s bullying me!”

“San, really?” You shook your head incredulously, stroking the cat’s with the back of your finger. “Honestly what is up with you? Why don’t you two get along? You’re not jealous are you?” you snickered. 

You had been joking, teasing almost, with the last part. It seemed too nonsensical—who got jealous of a cat? It made no sense. 

Cats were amazing, yes, and you knew it. You totally understood why people often chose cats and other pets, because they were just so good; they were soft and fluffy and adorable and warm and offered company even if they couldn’t talk so to speak. Each one had their own personality and preferences, it made total sense. However, to you, your boyfriend was all of that plus more—well, minus the fluffy bit for the most part, but his hair was! He was kind and supported you in a way that only another person could, he understood you and you couldn’t imagine life without him—hence why you suggested adopting a pet together. How could he be compared at all?

And yet, as soon as those thoughts crossed your mind you took one look into his guilty eyes and realised that that was exactly what he was doing. 

Unfortunately the empathy part didn’t quite make it into your reactions in time. “Oh my god you are!” you exclaimed, mouth hanging open as you watched him face sour into a scowl. 

“I am not jealous.”

You shook your head earnestly, a guilt-humour concoction fizzling in your gut. “No, San, wait, it—!”

With lips pressed shut he turned his back and strode off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. Exhaling carefully so he wouldn’t hear you let your cat down onto the sofa. She appeared confused, little head tilting upwards to question why you would abandon her so, leading you to hush her with a scratch behind her ear, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I love you very much I promise, I’ve just got to sort out the bigger baby of the house real quick, I’ll be back.” 

Leaving her to her own devices as you chased after your boyfriend, you found him rummaging around aimlessly in one of the cupboards, mumbling the words ‘stupid’ and ‘silly’ to himself. If you hadn’t known he was grumpy then this would have been a dead giveaway. Listening carefully to what he was muttering, you worked out that he was having a go at himself rather than anyone else, and that sealed the deal for you, relief tingling in your chest.

You approached him, rolling your eyes and hiding the smile that kept threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips.  “San?”

He turned but didn’t look at you because his head was kept down, having finally procured an old glass at the back of the cupboard. As he headed towards the fridge you spoke up again. 

“Ok, so, if you’re not jealous, then what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that my girlfriend loves a cat more than she loves me!” he whirled around, features hardened yet wet at the same time, before the regret dripped from his face much like the colour did. He swallowed thickly as he waited for you to call him out as he knew he deserved.

“So... you are jealous, then.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, a bite in his blunt confession. He didn’t look at you, feeling like he’d made a right fool of himself which now thinking about it, probably didn’t help his cause whatsoever.

Unable to stifle it any longer, you let out a breathy chuckle. Yes he was a fool, but he was your fool and you wouldn’t want him any other way. While making your way over to him his mouth opened, but you cut him off before he could speak by reaching up to cup his jaw gently with your fingers and planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“That,” you began, placing one on his other cheek, “is not,” and another upon the tip of his nose, “true,” you finished with a chaste one upon his lips. As you pulled away to find he seemed to gravitate towards your touch, you got your words out before he could interrupt them with passion of his own. “I love you more than anything else in the world, Choi San, and no one or thing can change that, so don’t you ever doubt it or yourself again, ok?”

He nodded and his hands swept to your back pulling you in close like he wanted. His kiss melded with yours heavily this time as the crease of his concern slowly faded away. His caress was laced with sincerity as he ran his hand to stroke your back, body melting into you.

His love would never get old, you knew that, just as you hoped his touches would never cease. His lips were warm, his embrace comforting and he smelt of home; there was nothing more that could make you happier.

When you pulled away, your breath thoroughly stolen, you leant your forehead against his as you ran your hand through his hair. Once he’d pressed a light-hearted kiss to your nose he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “It’s ok, I just can’t believe you were jealous of a cat. She doesn’t even do anything!”

“Yeah, I know, it’s silly,” he gushed, “please don’t tell the others.”

“Well,” you pretended to think over on it, until his softened eyes widened and you decided to ease up on him if only a bit for now, “only if you don’t tell them about the time when I dropped paint on the floor and cried while trying to scoop it back up with my bare hands.”

He brought up his pinky for you to take, “Deal?”

“Deal.”

After interlocking your fingers, you took advantage of how he was leant against the counter top and laid your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him like a teddy bear. He reciprocated by nestling his cheek into your crown while his fingertips played with the ends of your hair. He twirled the locks round the pads, easing knots out of them and very gently tugging every now and again, knowing full-well how therapeutic you found it. 

“So I’m guessing this means you want more hugs and kisses,” you finally uttered, words flowing effortlessly as you relaxed fully.

“Yes, please.”

“Wow, even more?” you chuckled, inhaling deeply, “Do you want them before the baby gets them?”

San hummed. “I mean, ideally but I suppose she usually beats me to it.”

“I dunno, you could sit by the door and wait for me to come home—”

“Like a dog?”

“No, not like a dog. You’re not much of a dog… now a puppy? That’s more like it.”

“What—?!”

“I’m only teasing. So do you want the baby talk too?”

“NO!”

~~~

AN: i wrote this out of the blue from a random idea i had in the morning. meanwhile i cant write anything long even tho i plan them out and have many ideas literally every week for them. make it make sense, please.

Masterlist

#why is there like... no soft shit for like... any ateez member? especially mingi??? #i have only seen hardcore dom mingi and it makes me sad bc look at him #san #choi san #san ateez #san x reader #san x reader fluff #san x reader angst #san drabble #san oneshot #san imagine #san scenario #san drabble fluff #san drabble angst #san oneshot fluff #san oneshot angst #san imagine fluff #san imagine angst #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x reader fluff #ateez x reader angst #ateez fluff #san fluff #ateez drabble #ateez oneshot

[hermannsthumb]

you know how hermann finding The Tape is like, a popular fic prompt? imagine newt listening to the tape, after the breach is closed only to find out it kept recording after he passed out? imagine newt listening to hermanns frantically confessing his love to him :^)

god ive seen the opposite (hermannn finding the tape with love confession from newt on it) but THIS.....IS A GREAT IDEA

---------------------------

“I’m not dying, Newton,” Hermann says. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s standard procedure, is all.” He shifts a little under his stiff medical-issued blanket, and blinks at Newt hazily; the pain meds they gave him have made him crazy out of it. A bit loopy. Unbalanced. Newt had to help him into his pajamas today, and that was enough blushing mortification for a life time, thank you. “I’ll be out--oh--tomorrow, I reckon.”

“Standard procedure, my ass,” Newt scoffs. “If that was true, I’d be in here with you.”

Hermann shuts his mouth and, wisely, doesn’t push the point. Probably because he knows Newt’s right. They both drifted with the kaiju brain, after all--shit, Newt drifted with one twice, practically fried his brain to smithereens the first time. Geiszler served over-hard. If anyone should be doomed to an overnight medical stay, it’s him. Hell--a week-long medical stay. Instead he’s being sent away with nothing more than an MRI, a pat on the head, and instructions to never fucking do that again, and meanwhile Hermann is being imprisoned for a whole twenty-four hours. Fucking ridiculous. Newt’s half-considering raising a fuss and insisting on being admitted to the bed beside Hermann’s just to keep him company.

“It’s nausea,” Hermann says. “Merely nausea. And--ah--” He lifts one hand, slowly, like he forgot he had one, and raps his knuckles against his temple. “Bit of a nasty headache.”

Hermann has always had a predilection to migraines, the brutal kind that leave him groaning in the dark for hours on end while Newt hangs, tentatively, out of sight, and they’re usually set off when he’s particularly stressed or overwhelmed by something. Usually work-related. Newt thinks hooking your mind up to an alien hivemind counts as a pretty intense stressor. “They merely want to keep me under observation to ensure it’s nothing more serious.”

Newt bites his lip; he shrugs. He still doesn’t like the sound of it, but he’d rather know one-hundred-percent Hermann’s okay. “I guess.”

Hermann gives him a rare smile. It crinkles the corner of his eyes and makes Newt’s heart race just a bit faster. “Go on, now, make yourself useful. Tidy the bloody lab. Oh--get started on our paperwork, why don’t you? Don’t sit around moping for my sake.” He pats Newt’s hand. “It’s terribly unbecoming for a rock star.”

The nurse at the front desk, when Newt badgers him, echoes Hermann’s sentiments exactly: no, Dr. Gottlieb isn’t dying, Dr. Geiszler, don’t be silly, both of your scans came back sparkling, overnight observation is just to ensure the headache and nausea aren’t something more serious (which we’re almost completely sure it isn’t), you can come pick him back up tomorrow morning at seven. Okay?

“Okay,” Newt sighs.

He casts a forlorn glance back at Hermann. “I’ll come back with dinner,” he says, weakly. 

The nurse coughs. “Actually, Dr. Geiszler, I’m afraid there’s no outside food allowed.”

“Right,” Newt says. “Bye, Hermann.”

“Paperwork,” Hermann calls to him.

No one’s been in the lab since before the whole Breach-bombing extravaganza, a whole forty-eight hours, and Newt can’t help but be a bit unsettled by it later that evening when he finally rolls up his sleeves and trudges down dutifully to get a crack on Hermann’s requests. It’s too quiet--too stagnant--like some sort of weird memorial to a lifestyle that’s now as obsolete as the kaiju. There’s a half-finished mug of coffee on Hermann’s desk (the milk gone curdled); Newt’s filthy work tools still in the industrial sink; a bit of kaiju intestine hanging off his work bench, decaying at an alarming rate; Hermann’s last equation, unfinished, on the chalkboard--what he was calculating Newt guesses he’ll never know.

“It smells like shit in here,” Newt declares to no one.

The paperwork about the, uh, legality of their drift Hermann was so eager for him to complete is nowhere to be found--probably because the entire fucking ‘dome is on an unofficial ‘we didn’t die!’ vacation, except for him, and no one has the time to deliver paperwork to two weirdo scientists in the basement--so Newt decides to start cleaning instead.

That’s maybe misleading. Newt does decide to clean, but he never actually follows through on that decision, because he immediately gets distracted by all the fun and interesting stuff in Hermann’s desk. The dude keeps, like, a million Rubik’s cubes on hand. All solved. A miniature chess set Newt thinks they played together once on a slow day. An entire drawer-full of those weird British digestives he likes so much that he almost definitely purchased on the black market. There’s even a photograph of Newt in there--the two of them, together, probably at some Shatterdome party, Newt holding a beer and smiling cheekily at a blushing, disgruntled Hermann.

It’s...kinda cute, actually. Newt props the frame up on Hermann’s desk over a somber Gottlieb family photograph. It deserves to be displayed.

Once he’s exhausted Hermann’s desk, he moves to his side of the lab and actually starts cleaning. He tosses out the decaying entrails--suddenly wishing, a bit sadly, that he’d taken better care of his kaiju specimens, because they just got even rarer--and rinses down Hermann’s grody coffee mug as he debates out what to do with the leftover pile of junk from his drift machine. He also wishes he’d planned ahead and made a back-up: the UN seized Newt’s machine from the Bone Slums milliseconds after Mako and Becket’s escape pods popped out of the ocean, and he has a feeling he won’t ever be seeing it again. Oh well. It had a fucking awesome run.

He’s just finishing washing out Hermann’s mug and setting it on the drying rack when he pauses; his tape recorder is on the kitchenette counter.

Newt recalls his almost-parting message to Hermann with something like guilt. At the time, he’d meant it... Well, he’s not sure how he meant it. As a joke? A weird, superstitious way of ensuring his drift would be successful, because he couldn’t possibly die with last words that bad? He’s not sure he would’ve said it if he knew what Hermann would be doing for him in a few short hours. Frankly, he’s not sure he would’ve said it if he thought about it for more than five minutes.

He wonders if Hermann listened to it.

A bit of the plastic is cracked. Newt thinks he must’ve knocked it to the floor when he started, uh, spasming, and Hermann probably picked it up before he got Newt a glass of water, which could be how it migrated here. He could’ve listened to it then. He could’ve listened to it when Newt headed out to meet Chau, and Hermann sent him off with the awkwardest little hug of all time and a quiet, terse little “Don’t get yourself killed.” He could’ve listened to it before he hopped on a helicopter to the Bone Slums to risk his life for Newt. He could’ve snuck back into the lab without Newt knowing and listened to it any time yesterday, in fact.

Newt rewinds a little and presses play. Despite the crack, it still works.

“Unscientific aside,” he hears himself say, “Hermann...”

He listens to the rest of his message in morbid fascination. Three, two, one--

The loud clatter of the recorder hitting the floor, then the even louder one of Newt hitting the floor. A prolonged period of loud, pained gasps. Before Newt can switch it off, suddenly, to his surprise, there’s Hermann’s voice, out-of-his-mind, frantic--saying his name--what have you done?--low, terrified murmurs of no, no, no--

The sound of the helmet being ripped from Newt’s head and thrown, violently, to the floor. “Don’t,” Hermann stammers, “Newton--you stupid, stupid man--you can’t leave, I--” Fast, panicked breathing. “I love you, you stupid--”

The tape runs out, and cuts Hermann off mid-sentence.

Newt sets the recorder down with shaking hands.

“Oh,” he says.

He knows, in the vaguest sense, that Hermann harbors a regard for him that matches Newt’s regard for Hermann to some degree--he got enough of that in the drift, in Hermann’s too-long too-shy lingering glances across the lab, his too-long too-shy lingering touches, the way he never smiles for anyone but Newt--but hearing it spoken so blatantly out in the open like that makes Newt’s heart race and his stomach feel a little funny, like it’s being twisted up in knots. 

Hermann loves him. Like, loves him, loves him. 

It’s late, which means there’s only one nurse on duty in medical this time, and Newt manages to use his newfound rock star status to charm his way pass without a problem.

(“Pleeease,” he whined. “Please, please, please--”

“Fine,” the nurse snapped. “But if you annoy Dr. Gottlieb, you’re out of here.”)

He finds Hermann where he left him, conked out in one of the stiff beds with his blankets and hair in disarray. There’s a little bit of drool on his chin. Newt wipes it away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, folds his glasses up on the nightstand, then--after glancing around to ensure the nurse isn’t looking, though it’s dark enough in here he doesn’t think anyone would be able to see him anyway--burrows underneath the bedcovers beside Hermann. It’s a tight squeeze, but they’ll fit.

Hermann stirs. "Newton?”

“Yeah,” Newt whispers. “It’s me.”

Hermann sniffs, then wraps an arm around Newt’s waist. “Jolly good,” he mumbles, sleepily. Newt smiles against his chest. Hermann loves him--how funny. “Do stay.”

“Of course,” Newt says. “You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

“Mm. Yes,” Hermann agrees.

Hermann’s breathing steadily evens out. Newt laces the fingers of his left hand with Hermann’s right, and--still smiling--drifts off to sleep, too.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #mourningroutine

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 7

AO3

Beta read by @thesnadger who does a great job

Tim and Martin sit out the nausea.

Martin talks to himself.

“You sure you don’t want to head home for the day?” Tim asked, picking at the grass beside him. He and Martin sat with their backs pressed against the cliff railing, facing away from the steep drop. The lighthouse loomed in front of them, barely casting a shadow as morning ticked closer to noon.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Martin replied. He rested his arms on his knees, his chin buried into the fabric of his coat sleeves. “I don’t really feel like walking down the hill yet? I’ll at least wait for the others to get back.”

“Well, they should be here soon, unless the place Simon pointed us toward is yet another weird building that makes you feel like you’re falling into a big hole.” Tim squinted up at the sky and immediately seemed to regret it, leaning forward to drop his face between his knees. “Ugh, the Fairchild place was almost as bad as here. I’m surprised we survived the walk back down. If we didn’t have someone leading us out, we’d probably be swallowed up by the carpet! Sorry to say, but I think your whole town is fucked. Or any place owned by the weird old guy club, I guess.”

Martin grimaced. “I don’t get how Jon and Sasha seem so unbothered by it. If it were just me, I’d chalk it up to stress or something, but, well.”

Tim nodded in solemn understanding. “‘But, well’.’” He lifted his head and squinted in the sunlight. “It could be they’re faking it and I’m the only one willing to ‘fess up. If that’s the case, they’ve been really good at pretending their stomachs haven’t been dropping straight into the sea all weekend. But, between you and me, Jon can’t act for shit.”

Martin’s shoulders bobbed with silent laughter. “He seems very easy to read, yeah.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t think he’s ever successfully lied in his life, unless you count avoiding a subject altogether.” Tim smiled and leaned back against the railing, brushing a hand over his hair. “Glad you two are getting on, by the way. I’m sure Sasha already talked to you about it, but the turnaround really was impressive. I was concerned he’d just be pissy this whole week over some spilt tea.”

Martin buried the bottom of his face a degree further into his coat. “Please don’t remind me. Anyway, I’m sure having something weird to chase after helped. Means this place wasn’t a total waste of time for you.”

“Hey, it wasn’t gonna be a total waste. I can’t speak for him, but I for one love to make new connections.” He waggled his eyebrow, making Martin snort and turn a brighter shade of red. “Really, though, you’ve been a lot of help. If the walk home is that bad, you should just stay up where the sun actually hits for a while. None of us will mind if you hang around, and I need someone here to prove that my dizzy spells aren’t just me being ridiculous.”

Martin’s mouth sunk into a frown. “No, once they get back I’ll head home. Lunch won’t make itself.”

“What, don’t want to grab something with us nerds?” Tim asked, smiling broadly.

“N-No, I just, y’know, I bought groceries yesterday, and if I eat out too much, I’ll end up wasting some of it, and-” Martin searched for more excuses that wouldn’t bring his mother into the picture and failed.

Tim scrunched his eyebrows together in thought, then took out his phone and asked, “What’s your number?”

“What?”

“Your mobile? In case we need to reach you. And so I can send you dumb shit in my down time that I’ve already sent to Sasha.”

For a moment, Martin sat in stunned silence. “Um. Okay?” He said, his voice cracking in the most embarrassing way possible. Then, slowly, he took an old phone out of his coat pocket, technically a smart phone but just barely. They exchanged numbers, and Martin stared at the new contact before slipping the phone back into place.

“There, now you’re stuck with me. I’ll keep you updated if Sasha and Jon do in fact decide to do something stupid that gets us all disappeared. Speaking of,” Tim said, shading his eyes with a hand. “Here they come now, and Jon looks especially irritated.” They both stood up, grasping at the railing and sharing a weary look.

“Come on, guys,” Sasha yelled from the bottom of the steps. “Break time’s over.”

Back inside, the four of them sat around the table. From the looks on their faces, Jon and Sasha had been disappointed by their short venture. “So, how are you two doing?” Sasha asked. “How’s the nausea?

“Oh, just fine. We can almost get up without losing breakfast.” Tim said. “How was the place?”

Jon crossed his arms. “Unsurprisingly, Simon Fairchild sent us to an inaccessible piece of private property owned by the Lukas family. We couldn’t even get anyone to come to the door. For now, it may be a dead end.”

“I could try to get Peter to let us in?” Martin suggested with little enthusiasm.

Sasha looked at his obviously pained expression and shook her head. “No, bad idea. Simon was pretty clear on Peter not knowing we went to his home. I’d guess that extends to any of us going into this other place. If what you said happened back at the house is true, I don’t want that kind of risk. We’ll have to try it later and hope for an answer.”

Martin let out a relieved sigh and stood. “Good, good idea. I’ll be going then. I guess if you need me for… questions? Updates? Tim has my number.”

Sasha raised her eyebrows at Tim in amusement, while Jon rolled his eyes and scowled. With a lopsided smile, Tim shrugged and said, “What? The guy lives at the bottom of the world. We can’t drag him up and down that hill all day.”

Perhaps quicker than necessary, Martin excused himself and walked out of the building. The last bit of conversation he heard was Jon complaining about a lack of workplace professionalism, followed by Tim making a mocking comment that Martin couldn’t quite hear.

Once he had walked a little ways away, he relaxed. They really did balance each other out, the three of them. He could imagine Sasha breaking them apart in a little while, then getting them on task like before.

His hand brushed against the phone in his pocket, and he felt a little pang in his throat. He pushed the sensation down. Chances were, they wouldn’t need to call him, and it would be best to pay as little attention to his phone as he always had.

--

After the usual walk home, Martin approached his mother in front of the television. There was one of her Christian programs playing, the kind with the television preacher. “Hi, Mum.”

“You took much longer than usual,” she said stiffly. He could see her attempting to swallow and went toward the kitchen.

“Sorry, work ran long today. I’ll get lunch going.” He began to look through the fridge, considering his options.

“I’m not hungry. Just want a glass of water,” she said, her voice hoarse. Martin winced.

“One second.” He quickly filled a glass from the tap and brought it to her. “You will need to eat something to get your medication down. I’ll make something for both of us and we’ll see how you’re feeling then.”

She huffed in response, taking a sip of water and clearing her throat. Once food was ready, she did eat enough for her medication and then some, setting Martin at ease.

“It’s sunny today, if you’d like to sit out front,” he suggested after cleaning up the tray in front of her. She sniffed and otherwise stayed silent. “Okay… let me know if you change your mind. The fog even cleared out a bit-”

“I am not going outside today.”

“Okay.”

Martin left her alone and went back to the kitchen and set some chicken in the fridge to defrost. His future self would thank him later, he thought, and he went upstairs to figure out the rest of his Sunday.

The first order of business was to lay down and sleep for a while. Two busy mornings in a row and he was exhausted, the muscles in his legs finally catching up to all of the extra walking. As he lay down, he thanked his walls, bed, and windows for staying in place and gently drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, Martin woke to find the sun had retreated back behind clouds and a familiar layer of fog. He reached for his phone on the bedside table to check the time. 4:30 pm. It was almost time to get dinner started, but before he could move to set the phone down, he saw there was text notification. Without his glasses, he had to squint and hold the phone close to his face. The brightness stung his eyes. The messages were from about fifteen minutes ago.

Tim: hey Tim: what do these weird knobs and buttons do anyway

Attached was a distorted photo, apparently of the upstairs console in the lighthouse.

“Shit,” Martin mumbled, tapping out an answer.

Martin: dont know, peter never told me. work the lighthouse i guess, make sure the big light is running. Martin: also what does all the static mean

Almost immediately, he got a response.

Tim: is that how lighthouses work? Tim: means its weird shit. weird shit hates digital

Martin: its the only lighthouse ive ever worked in, your guess is as good as mine Martin: oh good

No response came for a bit, and Martin took the pause to get out of bed. Halfway down the stairs, his phone buzzed.

Tim: update, stairs still bad Tim: arseholes who don’t get spooky vertigo club

Attached was another photo, still fuzzy, this time of Jon and Sasha walking ahead with Tim’s hand just barely in frame, clutching the rail. Jon was looking at the camera with a stern expression, his mouth open in the middle of saying something. Martin laughed quietly and continued walking.

In the time it took to prepare the chicken for baking, his phone vibrated in his pocket a few times. With his hands coated, there was no way to check until he slid the chicken into the oven twenty minutes later.

Tim: dont think anything stupid will happen tonight Tim: no one’s gotten too desperate yet but tomorrow is a new day Tim: will let you know if we end up getting arrested in the middle of the night for trespassing tho

Martin: haha, very funny

Tim: give it until tuesday

Martin’s eyebrow twitched, unsure of how seriously to respond.

Martin: please dont get me fired?

Tim: no promises! ;)

It felt like a lighthearted enough response to put Martin at ease. Tim liked joking. Martin knew that by now. If Tim was saying it, then it was a joke. Plus, it was clear Sasha and Jon were very by-the-books. If Jon would lecture Tim about texting, he certainly wasn’t the type to do anything illegal.

Still, the number of times Tim had joked about it made Martin irrationally nervous. That and Simon being cryptic and threatening. And the buildings trying to make him sick. And Jon-

Sliding his phone into his back pocket, Martin distracted himself with preparing the rest of their dinner. It wasn’t the time to spiral. He had chicken in the oven and vegetables to steam.

Dinner was made and eaten within the hour, and Martin’s phone stayed silent for the duration. When his mother asked to go outside after dinner, he did his best not to be outwardly irritated at her change of mind and did as she requested, covering his face to protect himself against the night wind.

It wasn’t until later when he had just about settled down for bed that Martin checked his phone, under the pretense that he was setting his alarm for the morning. There were no unread messages, so he set his phone down onto the side table to charge.

The fog rolled outside his window, illuminated by the weak light of the front porch. When sleep eventually took him, he dreamed of nothing.

--

When 6 am came, Martin found himself in an empty lighthouse. Under his arm was the expected box of documents he was to work with for the week, which he set on his desk. He then dragged his chair back over from the folding table, which was still littered with loose papers and three used mugs.

“Right, right. Library day. They could’ve at least remembered to clean up a bit.” Martin brought the dirty dishware to the kitchen and placed them in the sink to soak, then looked around for something clean to use for himself. He managed to find a kitschy one he’d always liked, with a tiny, smiling whale on the side.

“Looks like it’s just you and me.”

His voice echoed through the building, the final ‘me’ stretching on much too long.

Martin glared out into the main room. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alone, laugh it up.”

Again, the last ‘up’ lingered and drifted up the stairs, and he wanted to slap himself for walking right into that one. There was no point in talking back to a possibly haunted building.

He settled on silently making himself some tea, then dove into the week’s work. It was mind-numbing, as expected, but after a while it grew to be calming and familiar. The weird ache in his chest gave way to distraction, and hours ticked by without interruption. Martin began to feel normal, or his version of normal before things started to be poked and prodded. Before he knew it, he had eaten lunch and was on his way to the second half of his shift.

“...up.”

Martin jumped, almost knocking over his tea. That had been his voice. Just a single noise that hung in the air with no echo to be heard. No, he thought, no, no, no, he was not going to take any bait in this place. He righted himself in his chair and reached for the pen he had dropped.

“Me. Up.” Even with his original tone resting in those syllables, the new sense of urgency was unmistakable.

Against every part of his brain screaming at him, he took a step toward the stairs. Before he could go any further the front door swung open.

“Hey, Martin, we’re back,” Sasha said, carrying a file folder. “We- woah, are you okay?”

Martin stopped and stared at her, his jaw clenched to the point of pain. “Um. Define okay.”

The three researchers stopped and shared a concerned look. Sasha walked over to set her things on the table. “Okay, okay, clearly something happened.”

“What’s going on?” Jon asked, looking around warily.

Before Martin could open his mouth, his voice came from above. “Up.”

Everyone froze, holding their breath for a moment. Jon was first to break the silence, his voice filled with disdain. “Good. It can record us now.”

“Up. Now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Tim gripped Jon’s shoulder and gestured insistently to the front door. They all vacated the building and stopped on the front steps, finally letting out a collective breath.

“Have you all, um, dealt with ghosts? Directly?” Martin sat on the bottom step, rubbing his hands over each other. “Ones that take the last word you said?”

“We don’t know if it’s a ghost, but no, not personally,” Jon replied, sitting a few steps up and typing on his laptop. “Can’t say I really believe in them, either.”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, sure, definitely not a ghost in there.”

“I’m inclined to suspect something more concrete. Somehow, the lighthouse was trapping the sound of our voices. According to Martin it only used the last words he uttered, and the same happened with me. With only a few things to work with, it wouldn’t be hard to-”

“To accidentally order us up the creepy staircase of the creepy lighthouse.” Tim stood, hands in his pockets.

“If it’s using ‘me’, ‘up’, and ‘now’, what else could it say? Otherwise, there was just ‘back’ and okay’ as far as I can tell.”

They continued to go back and forth, Jon being much more stubborn about the whole thing than Martin would’ve expected from a paranormal researcher. Maybe ghosts were an especially contended subject? It didn’t seem like it from Tim and Sasha’s reactions, but Martin was out of his depth. People turning into seals was a far cry from specters and mind-bending architecture.

Still, it being a ghost sounded right. There were meaning and intent behind the words repeated back to him, he was certain of it. If that was the case, maybe there was someone or something in this place trying to talk to him. That’s what ghosts did, right? Reach out to the living?

“Then we’ll just have Martin stay outside for a bit,” Jon said, closing his laptop decisively.

Martin found himself back in the conversation. “What?”

“We’re going to try the place Simon pointed us toward again. Hopefully, we’ll be let in this time and get some answers. The library didn’t have much in terms of useful information, I’m afraid.”

Sputtering, Martin replied, “So, what, I’m just going to wait out here? I still have work to do!”

Jon stared at him and sighed. “Bring it outside then. It shouldn’t rain today, and we don’t want to risk anything now that we know something is… active. You’re sure nothing like this has ever happened?”

“No, this is... new.”

“Then the safest thing is to avoid whatever is going on. It’s for your own well-being, and since we’re probably the cause of it, I don’t want to be in the business of putting people in danger.” Jon said. Martin was at a loss for arguments and nodded. “Good. If our luck hasn’t changed, we’ll be back soon. Otherwise, I suppose Tim will text you the good news.” There was a slight, acidic turn to Jon’s voice near the end that Martin couldn’t place.

Martin pushed himself onto his feet. “Okay… good luck? I guess? I’ll go get my work, then.”

Apparently satisfied, Jon placed his laptop into its case and motioned for the other two to follow him. As they left, Tim shot Martin a worried thumbs up.

When Martin walked back inside, he stopped halfway to the desk, eyes glued to the staircase. He had told Jon he would get his things and go outside.

“Hello?” Martin waited and got no response. “If you’re a ghost, now’s the time to say so.” Still nothing. He let out a noise of frustration. “Say something? Please?”

“Hello? Up. Please?”

Taking a glance back at his desk, Martin bit his tongue and internally berated himself. No use giving the place a name to call him. He really was an idiot, he thought, creeping up the staircase as if the ghost might hear his footfalls. Why had he taught it to be polite?

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #au fanfic #selkie au #fanfic

[emybain]

Rainy Day

i tried posting this earlier but tumblr was a butt and deleted it so here’s a second go. there’s angst but at least there’s some nodrian. this is also part of the au where nova’s family lives:) im posting from my phone and ive never done that before so if something weird happens let me know. just some background (as i forget to explain my hcs for this au 95% of the time): the anarchists want nova to join them bc they know she’s powerful. they contact her and confront her on the streets and stuff. no one knows but nova, and since this started, she’s sickened and scared bc she sometimes agrees with some of their points against the renegades. she’s terrified bc they (*cough* Ingrid) vaguely threaten her and her loved ones. she’s also scared of what could happen if it gets out. we LOVE living in the spotlight bc we have an infamous uncle! hope y’all enjoy:D

_________

It was pouring outside, much to Nova’s luck. She only prayed that she wouldn’t crash her car in this weather; she wasn’t even sure if she had grabbed her wallet in her hurry to leave her house.

She couldn’t go back after this. Her parents were done. Disappointed. Ashamed. Angry. She had betrayed their trust once again, but this time, it went too far. This was a secret she never should have kept from them, and now they were going to kick her out onto the streets.

Thankfully, Adrian only lived a few blocks away, so she didn’t have to leave the neighborhood. Stepping out of her car, she could barely even register the fat raindrops that began to drench her entire body.

He answered on the fifth knock, looking as if he had just woken up from a nap. Nova didn’t even let herself take in his ruffled state. He blinked at her, frowning at her red eyes and wet clothes.

“Nova? What’s wr-”

“Are your parents home?”

Opening the door a bit more, he shook his head slowly, obviously confused. “No? They’re at headquarters righ-umph!”

Nova launched herself at him, burying her head into his sweatshirt. His armed immediately wrapped around her, although his body stiffened in alarm.

“Nova, hey, Nova.” He relaxed quickly. A hand made circles on her back. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here, yeah?” He held her as she sobbed, muttering incoherent gibberish into his chest. She was probably getting tears and snot all over him, but that was the least of her worries.

Struggling for air, she gasped, “I can’t go home, Adrian. They’ll kill me. They’re go-going to kill me. I...I-I-I can’t go home. I’m never going to see Evie or-or Thomas ever again because I’m a fu-fucking idiot.” She felt a hand on her head, running through her hair.

He made small shushing sounds. “Is this about another piercing? Or did you finally get a tattoo?”

Nova heard the door shut behind her and the lock. She shook her head into the sweatshirt. “Much...much worse.”

As if to remind her of her situation, a loud Bang! Bang! Bang! resonated in her skull. Suddenly she felt as if she were falling and gripped Adrian. Her entire body shook, despite the fact that she was burning up.

“Breathe in and out, Nova.” She felt him gently guide her to the floor, something he always did for her when she was having an attack. “I’m here. You’re in my house, okay? Everything’s alright. I’m not going to leave you.” He backed up a little to give her space, but she made a whimpering noise in the back of her throat and reached out for him. He pulled her head into his lap, one hand going back to tracing circles on her skin and the other holding her hand.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she finally felt her breathing slow down. Exhaustion rolled through her body, and she fell limp against Adrian’s knee. Somewhere far away, he asked her a few questions, to which she nodded to, only partly paying attention.

Somehow, she ended up on his bed with a glass of water in her hands and his soft comforter over her legs. He sat beside her on the edge, the lines on his forehead showing just how worried he was. Only when she silently gestured did he move to sit closer to her on the bed.

She was quiet for a long time, but Adrian was patient. He always was. She had had many breakdowns in his presence, and he knew how to help her get through them every time. Even though they had drifted apart in their earlier teen years, they were now both making the effort to spend more time together. It had been about a year since they made this commitment, and while it was hard and her teammates and friends teased her about it, it was the best decision she had made in a long time.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she mumbled, setting the still-full water glass on his nightstand. She curled her legs up to her chest, kicking back the bedspread.

“Take your time.” He reached for her hand, and she gladly accepted his.

Nova sniffled. “For a while now, the Anarchists have been contacting me.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “They’ve been feeding me lies about the Renegades, taunting me for betraying my own blood.”

Adrian inhaled sharply. “Nova...what? I-”

“There’s more,” she snapped, but her voice shrank again. “They...they want me to join them, saying that the Renegades are liars and that they wanted my family to die that night.” She swallowed, feeling disgust wash over her. “And now, I’m afraid of what they’re going to do to me or my family.” She glanced at him, hand tightening around his. “To you. They know how close we are.”

Adrian searched her face. “You should’ve said something sooner, Nova. This is serious. How long has this been going on?”

She shrugged, looking down at the sheets. “A year and a half?” Adrian cursed under his breath. Another tear dripped down her cheek. “Adrian, you can’t tell anyone, okay? You know the shit I get every day just for being an Artino. I’ve had to prove myself since I was six, had to...had to play the part of a media darling just to stay on most people’s good side. All that could vanish if this got out. It won’t matter that I’ve ignored them. You know how the tabloids are.”

Adrian shushed her as her voice started to rise and shake again. “I can’t just do nothing, Nova. You know that.” Something flashed in his eyes. “You matter more than anything else in the world to me. I can’t stand to see you like this.” Nova blushed, only then becoming aware of how close they were sitting on his bed, how weirdly handsome he looked in his grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. Her eyes drifted to the necklace peeking out from his sweatshirt, stomach dropping at the thought of it hanging over her.

She shook her head, partly in response and partly to get her mind away from such imaginations. “My parents found out today and confronted me when I came home from headquarters.” She inhaled shakily. “I was a dumbass and left a letter out on my desk.”

Adrian’s face softened in understanding. “They were angry you didn’t tell them?”

“Furious,” she breathed. “They...they told me I wasn’t their daughter if…” her face crumpled, and he wrapped his arms around her again, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “If I was actually thinking about joining them.”

“But you’re not,” he reassured her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. That only made more tears fall.

Nova leaned back, wanting to tell him more. How she had actually considered what they said. Not about joining them, but what they mentioned about the system being corrupt and unfair. Sometimes, when she really thought about it, she could see where they were right. It made her feel dirty inside and out for betraying everything she ever knew.

“You’re a good person, Nova.” He attempted to smile. “We’ll talk about what to do about them contacting you later. Everything’s going to be alright. You’re one of the best people I know. No, don’t shake your head,” he laughed, which caused the corner of her lip to lift up just slightly. She loved his laugh. “You are. They’re just upset right now. Any parent would be. Give them some time to think through things. You know my dads never mind how long you stay.” After a slight pause, he added, a bit awkwardly, “Okay?”

Nova glanced down at his lips, pinched in worry, then back up at his eyes, and she may have responded, or she may not have. But the next thing she knew, her lips were pressed firmly against his. He made a noise in surprise; Nova felt his body go stiff beside her. She pulled back, an apology already forming in her mouth. He blinked at her, the hand that had been rubbing circles on her arm now still. Then he did something that sent Nova over the edge: He kissed her back.

She gasped, allowing him to deepen the kiss and pull her closer. Nova’s entire body shook as she climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. One hand splayed at the small of her back, the other reaching up to dig into her hair. A soft moan escaped her lips at the way her skin tingled from the contact; she would’ve been mortified if Adrian didn’t act like the sound was the best thing he had ever heard.

He broke the kiss, only to murmur her name and words of affection as his lips, great skies his lips, traced a path from her jaw down to the hollow part of her neck. Nova’s head was pounding, her heart racing, her body feeling about a thousand new emotions all at once.

Nova had kissed people before, had even kissed Adrian once when they were fourteen as part of a dare and came close about a year ago. But none of those kisses were like this one. No, she had never, ever, ever been kissed like this before. As if she were the most precious thing in the world; as if she mattered and was cared for.

His lips returned to her face, kissing away the tear stains on her cheeks before returning to her mouth. An explosion of stars lit up behind Nova’s eyelids, and she welcomed his caresses fervently, pressing her body so close to his until she felt as if she might suffocate. But at that moment, she didn’t care.

For so long, she had dreamed and thought of and imagined what it might be like to kiss Adrian Everhart. Partly in shame, for he was her best friend. They had known one another for ten years; they weren’t supposed to feel this way about one another. Every time she had ever thought of a life where they were something other than friends, she chastised herself. She couldn’t ruin their friendship and reveal her true feelings for him if he didn’t feel the same. When she was younger, she had seen Adrian as something akin to a brother. That had all changed after they had first kissed as awkward, naïve fourteen year olds. But if he had been like family for her before then, surely Adrian only thought about her as a sister. Right? Now she wasn’t so sure.

Adrian’s fingers ran over the length of her thigh, then his hand came to rest in the crevice under her knee. Nova shook in his hold, her breath beginning to grow shallow. A sick, heavy brick dropped in her stomach, the exact opposite of the feeling of pleasure she had felt just minutes before. What if this wasn’t all she had wanted? What if they were just caught up in the moment, and Adrian was only kissing her because she had initiated it? He could break the embrace at any moment and push her away in disgust when realization would hit, and just like that, the best ten years of her life would go down the drain.

She needed air, but also didn’t want to let go just yet. A new wave of tears threatened to spill behind her closed eyelids. She was such an idiot. Adrian could never, would never, love her the way she loved him.

Not knowing what else to do, Nova allowed her power to roll through her, gently so as not to hurt him like she would with criminals. It had been years since she had been kind with her power; she hadn’t used it that way since Thomas was a screaming toddler. The effects were the same, though. Adrian broke the kiss as his head lolled back against the headboard. Fat tears streamed down Nova’s face. Adrian had offered her a place to stay, but after what had just happened, how could she?

Legs shaky, Nova pushed herself off of him and scooted toward the end of the bed. She wanted nothing more than to just curl up beside him and fall asleep in his arms. After all, he was one of the few people that made her feel safe enough to fall asleep. But no. She had to go. Where, she wasn’t quite sure yet. Anywhere but here. Maybe she would call up Danna or Ramona and explain the situation. Both were familiar with her home life and the occasional desire to just disappear for a while from the chaos that was the Artino household.

Thank the sky above that Hugh and Simon weren’t home, or else she would have some explaining to do. Due to her current state, just making it out of the large house was a miracle. It was pouring harder now than it was when Nova came over. She closed the front door and, finding the spare key hidden under a small statue, locked it and hid the key again.

Between the pouring rain and her blurry eyesight, seeing was very difficult for Nova while getting out of Adrian’s neighborhood. She could barely think, barely breathe, even as she called Danna through her car’s Bluetooth system because she was at the top of her contact list. In the corner of her mind, she heard her Papà’s voice telling her she needed to slow down because of the slick roads, like he always tells her to drive slowly in the rain. She can hardly process even that warning.

“Don’t be an emotional driver,” Papà would say whenever she got upset back when she was learning to drive. “Pull over somewhere safe if you’re upset or angry, va bene?” And Nova would nod her head and take deep breaths to calm down.

Images of Adrian flitted through her head, only succeeding in making her more upset than she was. How was she going to explain herself when he woke up and inevitably called her?

“Nova? Nova, are you there?” Nova fixed her eyes on the little screen in her car where it showed a call was in process. Blinking she tried to read who it was, not quite sure she remembered who she had called. It was Danna. Right.

Nova looked back up at the road just as she ran a red light, being t-boned by an incoming car.

#renegades #archenemies #nova artino #adrian everhart #danna bell #ruby tucker #my writing #anarchists #oscar silva #tuckva #osby #nodrian #supernova #ill fix the whole layout when im home dont worry #it bothers me too

[ofinkdried]

INTRO: MUN // TASK #001

hey all!! i’m slowly working on bios and pages and such but I wanted to introduce myself first -- so here’s what’s technically was the first task?? im using it as the template for my intro so HERE WE GO!!

PERSONAL INTRO

name  /  alias : victoria / tor gender  /  pronouns : cisfemale / she/her where  ya  from  ? : texas!! the  current  time :  4:29 pm height :  5′4 job  or  major :  unemployed at the moment, but I have a degree in health science/health administration & a national certification in phlebotomy pet  (  s  ) :  one doxie/beagle mix named Roxie favorite  thing  (  s  )  about  yourself :  my ability to remember song lyrics better than my own name any  special  talents  ? :  uhhhh I can play 4 ( 5? ) instruments why  you  joined  hqclouds :  FUNNY STORY care was talking to me about some Tea ( we’re in another rp together ) and she made a comment about running an rp and im a bit of a sleuth and found hqclouds and decided to join  meaning  behind  url :  it’s ‘ of clementines ’ because one of my favorite halsey songs is clementine and i’ve been on a halsey kick as of late  last  thing  you  googled :  ‘ fools troye sivan ’ because I wanted to send my friend the music video birthday  /  zodiac :  october 29th / scorpio in  your  opinion  ,  does  your  sign  suit  you  ? : some days myers  -  briggs :  I took it forever ago and don’t remember... ^^’ moral  alignment :  chaotic good hogwarts  house : ravenclaw!! three  fictional  character  (  s  )  you  see  yourself  in  +  why :  oh gosh.... katherine from newsies ( dedicated, doesn’t take a man’s shit), emma from the prom (nervous gay who plays guitar), and flynn rider from tangled (jokester, very in love with our girlfriends) i  started  roleplaying : 2012 I think? types  of  rps  i  enjoy :  definitely literate ones favorite  fcs  to  use :  I try to not reuse fcs a lot?? like I have some I prefer for certain characters, but I don’t have a strong draw to certain faces... fandom  (  s  )  you’d  like  to  write  in : musicals ( namely newsies ), fairy tail, the raven cycle fandom  (  s  )  you  aren’t  in  but  are  curious  about :  uhhhh I dont really know... share  a  funny  roleplay  horror  story :  oh gosh I dealt with one girl who like... constantly gaslit me as a player and my characters, would make me feel bad for not responding immediately, made everything about her characters, and then got mad when I called her out on it? and now she goes to a christian school and says that rp is ‘ the devil’s work ’ and I just... yeah. fondest  roleplay  memory :  I feel like the moment my now girlfriend and I realized we always do ships bc just had awesome chemistry and then started dating like, 4 months later. favorite  canon  muse  (  s  )  to  play : connor murphy ( deh ), gansey ( trc ), spot conlon ( newsies ), jimmy ( bandstand ), lucy heartfillia ( fairy tail ) favorite  original  muse  (  s  )  to  play : theo massard ( a boxer, jack barakat fc; had an AMAZING ship for him )  canon  ships  you  can’t  help  but  love :  CATRADORA. none of my other ships are technically canon : / trope  (  s  )  you  tend  to  be  guilty  of : tragic backstories, tough on the outside soft on the inside i  prefer  .  .  . angst  ,  smut  ,  or  fluff :  I wanna say fluff but I know care and megan will call me out bc I love angst more than anything long  or  short  replies :  mid-length pre  plotting  or  chemistry : chemistry leading to pre plotting! sentence  starters  or  headcanon  memes : both? I love discussing headcanons single  muse  or  multimuse  blogs :  multi!! gif  icons  ,  medium  gifs  ,  or  static  icons : typically gif icons, but lately ive been loving medium gifs grab  the  book  nearest  to  you  and  pull  a  quote  from  it : ok so I have no books atm bc im moving, but the first book on my phone is the dream thieves, and the line I see first is “ The Gray Man considered what it must’ve been like to live like that, always waiting for your door to be kicked in. ” what’s  a  quote  or  song  lyric  that  speaks  to  your  soul  ? : oh gosh, so many... “ I'm a walking travesty/But I'm smiling at everything ” ( therapy, all time low ), “ I imagine the tears in your eyes/The very first night I'll sleep without you ” ( roman holiday, halsey ), “ Am I the product of a problem that I couldn't change?/Got his eyes, got her hair/So do I get their mistakes? ” ( secondhand smoke, kelsea ballerini ) top  current  celebrity  crushes :  halsey, froy guiterrez, harry styles ( always ) last  movie  you  watched :  I think it was uhhhhhh miss americana on netflix? did  you  like  it  ? :  YES I loved it favorite  movie  (  s  )    of  all  time : 10 things I hate about you, newsies ( ’92 ) favorite  tv  show  (  s  )  of  all  time : she-ra, queer eye, fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood, gossip girl favorite  tv  show  that  hasn’t  ended : zoey’s extraordinary playlist favorite  series  of  books  /  novels  /  comics : the raven cycle, all for the game, the last song sports  team  (  s  )  you  rep : dallas cowboys, houston astros ( yeah I know about the scandal and I hate it, but they’re my team ), FAU owls ( my alma mater ) favorite  video  game  (  s  ) : breath of the wild, KH series favorite  youtube  channels : unus annus, daniel howell ( rip he hasn’t posted in a year ), the try guys, NPR Music, CrankGameplays ( ethans just a dork I dont even like gamer videos that much ) hobbies :  guitar, singing, being in zoom musicals ( im playing whatsername from american idiot for one in July and auditioned for a few others! ), reading what  are  the  three  non  essential  things  you’d  bring  to  a  deserted  island  ? : my guitar, my laptop, wifi put  your  music  on  shuffle.  what  six  songs  pop  up  ? : HOLD ME TIGHT OR DONT, fall out boy; I’m Still Here, John Rzeznik; Towers, Little Mix; Way Down Hadestown, hadestown obc; Stitches, state champs (cover); Look Back, betty who personal  aesthetic : nerdy punk?  dream  vacation  ? : disneyland paris or disneyland Singapore with my gf dream  job  ? :  music teacher dream  car  ? :  one that works at this point if  i  could  live  anywhere  ,  it’d  be : austin, texas ( im about an hour away rn ) favorite  musical : OH GOSH..... the prom, bandstand, newsies, hadestown favorite  food  (  s  ) :  blueberry pancakes, red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing coffee  order :  at starbucks? venti iced chai tea latte. at dunkin? large iced vanilla coffee. at home? french vanilla coffee and caramel macchiato creamer and 2 scoops of sugar.  unwatched  stuff  in  your  netflix  /  hulu  /  etc :  netflix: sex education, the umbrella academy, end of the f***ing world, the people vs. oj simpson. hulu: portrait of a lady on fire, my friend dahmer, rocketman what’s  a  subject  you  know  too  much  about  +  never  get  tired  of  talking  about  ? : I dunno? I have a ton of useless facts on a wide range of subjects. like did you know that in 100 letters, halsey says ‘ You wrote 100 letters just for me/And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans/Now I'm constantly reminded of the time I was 19/Every single one's forgotten in a laundromat machine ’ and that’s actually autobiographical -- her bf at the time wrote a note and put it in a pocket of every pair of pants she owned, and she was still finding them months after the relationship ended, so she took all her pants to a laundromat and washed them so she wouldn’t have to see the letters anymore!!

#(( this got long im sorry asdkjfh )) #cloud:task #&&. 'im a hurricane.' || tor posts.

[rosethesongbird]

Untitled Tales from the Borderlands Fic

Hi friends-- I wrote this about a year ago, right after I played Tales for the first time. I hope you can enjoy it, it is very short and a simple excuse for me to stretch my writing muscles. 

Rhys lay on the ground in the wreckage of Helios.

No friends, no family, nothing. Life as he knew it might as well be over. Vaughn was probably dead. He betrayed Loader Bot. Fiona ditched him and left him for dead on a crashing space station. He just yanked the final remnant of Handsome Jack out of his damn head. He had one arm like some kind of circus freak. The space where his lovely Hyperion issue cybernetic arm connected to his body was now a bloody hole, key word bloody. In fact, the feeling of being face down on the floor was probably due to that. The overwhelming wave of dizziness and nausea would not stop, despite being completely still. Rhys closed his eyes and blacked out, giving up the fight to rest.

The newly-appointed Bandit King Vaughn climbed over the flaming wreckage of the space station Helios. His life, his work, his friends, realistically everything he had done since he had begun his career was now up in flames. He felt like this might be a futile exercise, searching for survivors of the crash, seeing as they watched all the escape pods crash to Pandora’s surface one by one--some with living people inside, crawling out like baby birds out of eggs. Some they didn’t dare open, knowing that if the person inside didn’t open it… well, they didn’t want to start burying bodies just yet. “At least make sure you found all the living people first,” he thought to himself.

“Damn,” he muttered, rounding a corner into what most assuredly was once a grand testament to Hyperion’s riches. Jack’s office. Now that he’s gone, and Helios is gone, and Hyperion is sort of gone by proxy, that must be the last remnant of Handsome Jack snuffed out. Well, except maybe Rhys’ cybernetics, but, well… as much as it broke his heart it didn’t seem like his childhood friend had made it safely down to the planet. He could be floating around in space in pieces for all Vaughn knew. Walking to what used to be where Jack’s desk was, he saw a body on the floor. Sad, he thought. That guy’s dead for sure. Totally limp and blood everywhere. Although what would you expect from falling out of space? But a familiar shine of yellow made his stomach sour. Is that a cybernetic arm? Rhys’ cybernetic arm? He picked up the pace and ran over to the beaten body.

The locks of brown hair, matted with blood and sweat, were all too familiar to Vaughn. His best friend for so many years. His partner in crime. Laying there, flat on his face, completely still. What a way to go. He found tears rolling down his cheeks as he thought of his friend--who had survived so much over the past weeks with him--dead on the ground with no dignity. He knelt down next to his friend’s body only to perceive the smallest bit of movement, rhythmic, up and down, almost like breathing...Is he alive?

-

The next several minutes were a blur. Vaughn called out for his friend. (In hindsight, Vaughn thought, it’s not like he would answer if he was out bad enough to not notice I was there.) He frantically opened his ECHO and called for someone to help him carry his friend out. After a few grueling seconds two other bandits appeared with a blanket to carry Rhys back to the camp. Vaughn couldn’t take his eyes off him the entire time they gingerly lifted him up. They didn’t know what was wrong, what was broken, if anything, where he had been, what had happened… and what were they going to do with him? He was an accountant, not a doctor--and he could guarantee that the medical treatment given by a ragtag team of bandits and former Hyperion employees was not exactly up to snuff for injuries this severe.

“I know,” said Vaughn, his bandit friends looking at him in confusion (he had been mostly thinking to himself at this point). “River."

-

Miles away, in a tiny hut in the middle of the desert, an ECHO starts going off.

A woman rolls over in bed, her hair starting to fall out of the braid on the top of her head.

“Vaughn? What’s up? Don’t you realize it’s like 4 in the morning?...A friend of yours? Helios crashed?! What do you mean crashed? Like, crashed crashed? I thought I heard a noise but I didn’t get up to check what it was. Yeah, where are you? Right, right, whatever. Just send me the coordinates and I’ll be there ASAP. In the meantime, is your friend conscious?” The woman climbs out of bed, pulling on her shoes. She looks outside. The wind is blowing, and hard. She pulls on her cloak and opens the door. “Well, keep a close eye on him. I’ll be there soon. Call me again if his condition changes, okay? You’re doing fine. Just don’t freak out.” The door closes behind her as she begins to walk across the desert.

“Okay, don’t freak out any more, then.”

-

Vaughn looked nervously out the window. They had finally gotten Rhys back to camp and really didn’t know what to do so he was just laying there on the most comfortable bed they could find. He was still breathing, at least, so that was good--and they had wiped off most of the blood from his face so at least when River came she wouldn’t think they were totally useless. He looked back at his friend, usually the masculine, confident, good-with-the-ladies one, and it still felt weird to see him so… vulnerable. He used to… well… detest him for it, always feeling like he was second fiddle--but that was a long time ago. Rhys never intended to make him feel like that. Plus, now he had found his niche. Rhys’ whole identity was the smarmy Hyperion suit, and that seemed like it was pretty much dead in the water, seeing as the entire headquarters and most of its employees were dead. Vaughn really hoped he was less vulnerable than he looked, because it kind of looked like he was dead too. He hadn’t made a single sound or moved a single muscle since they found him except the very, very slight motion of his chest, up and down.

His ECHO suddenly crackled to life, making him jump.

“I think I’m here,” said the female voice on the other end. “Is your camp the big pile of old burnt and broken stuff?”

“Yep! That’s us! We worked really hard on it, by the way, so thanks for that comment.”

“Hey,” she said, “isn’t that how a bandit camp is supposed to look? It’s nice, Vaughn. You know I’m just kidding around with you.”

Vaughn looked out the window and saw a tiny, cloaked silhouette walking towards the camp, her clothing whipped around by the intense desert wind. “Will somebody go out there and meet her? I’m not gonna lie, I feel kind of bad making her come on her own, like I should have sent someone, anyway--someone go get her and bring her up here, and quick!” he called out to his camp.

-

“Thanks for the warm welcome,” said River. “Your guys aren’t too bandit-y yet so I almost didn’t feel like I was going to get stabbed!”

“My pleasure,” said Vaughn sarcastically, walking up to the door of what was apparently now the medical bay. “Ladies first!”

“Always the gentleman,” said River, entering the small, yet cozy room. “Shit, you weren’t kidding. He really doesn’t look good. What happened to the cybernetics?”

“I have no clue,” said Vaughn. “We found him like this and he hasn’t woken up since. All I’ve been able to do is wipe some blood off of him.”

“Well, that’s alright. You did fine. Wanna stick around while I get started?” She removed her hood and cape to reveal a plain black long sleeved shirt and grey pants. Vaughn hadn’t noticed that she was carrying a large bag under her cloak, full of her supplies. Her hair was long on the top, shaved on the sides, yet the top was in a sensible, practical braid. Vaughn noticed for the first time how short she was. He was used to looking up to make eye contact with people, but she was even smaller than him. She seemed like such a kid, but she knew her stuff, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, I’ll stick around just in case you need any help. Plus, I could learn a bit from you, at least basic first aid and stuff. Anshin's kinda hard to come by here.”

“So I’ve noticed,” she said. “Although stuff like this usually needs a little bit more finesse.”

Vaughn watched as she sprung into a small flurry of action. Testing, scanning, writing things down on her pad, and muttering softly to herself. Vaughn twiddled his thumbs nervously. Somehow she always seemed like she had eyes on the back of her head, like she was judging him silently. He knew she wasn’t--or she would tell him she wasn’t, anyway--but she just had that kind of personality.

“Oh,” she said, after a few minutes of not speaking. Vaughn almost sighed in relief at the break in the silence. “Any remaining active bleeding in either of the cybernetic sites?”

“Uh, no, maybe some oozing but no like, puddles.”

“What’s your friend’s name, by the way?”

“It’s Rhys,” he said. “He’s the one I told you about-”

“Ohhh, your friend since you were little! Yeah, you’ve told me about him!” she interrupted. "Oh, um, I found this in his pocket." She handed Vaughn a small folded piece of paper.

"This deed hereby grants the owner control over the entire Atlas corporation..." Vaughn read aloud. "Huh. I'll have to ask him about that."

“Well, here’s what I’ve got so far on Rhys, and what I need from you.” River’s demeanor shifted jarringly from that of a warm, caring friend to something more clinical.

“Rhys has a bit of an infection in the site where the cybernetic arm used to be. The cranial implant and the, uh, remains of the ECHO-Eye seem to be okay, but we’ll keep a close eye on them, I can’t imagine they were removed with any sort of precision or cleanliness. Due to that infection he’s running a fever of 104 degrees, which I want to bring down ASAP. I’m gonna send for a blood pack, he’ll probably end up needing a transfusion, especially if I need to do some clean-up work in those cybernetic sites. So I’ve got all the stuff I need for IV fluids and antibiotics with me, but I’m going to need a bunch of rags soaked in cool, clean water. I also don’t want to freak you out but I’m definitely going to change his clothes, so if you’ve got a spare pair of pajamas laying around, that would be good too.”

Vaughn stood there for a minute, processing everything he was told. “So, what you’re saying is, he’s gonna live!”

River smiled, back to her usual self. “I certainly think so.”

“Then I’ll get to work!” Vaughn ran out of the room, eagerly gathering everything she needed to get his friend feeling better--excitedly telling a small crowd of onlookers outside the room “He’s going to be okay!”

-

River sat down by the man’s sick bed, carefully examining every fold of his face, counting respirations, admiring a surprisingly still well-coiffed hairstyle (all things considered). She began to remove his bloodied, torn clothing, first one shoe then the other, to see some charmingly gaudy striped socks.

“Cute,” she said. “I like your crazy socks, Rhys.” She often spoke to patients that were unconscious. Sometimes they could hear, and were listening more than people thought, so it was a good way to introduce yourself before introducing yourself.

“Sorry about this next part, I know it’s awkward,” she said while removing his belt and pants. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I figure I wouldn’t want a stranger silently removing my pants, so it’s only fair.” She cringed while she peeled what used to be his shirt and vest, now torn and bloodied, off of his pale skin--to reveal a multitude of scrapes and bruises in every color of the rainbow.

“Yeesh, what happened to you, sweetheart? Your friend is worried about you.” She noted the fascinating tattoos on his left shoulder going up to his neck. Definitely a better artist than the bandit stick-and-poke work she was used to.

Vaughn walked in, carrying a bucket of water and a pile of fabric, speaking more frantically with every word: “River? Is he awake? Rhys?”

“No, not just yet. He probably won’t wake up until we get that temperature down a bit. I just enjoy talking to myself, apparently,” she said, with a small, soft laugh. “Let’s get started getting you feeling better, Rhys. Do you mind if I start an audio log, Vaughn? It’s a little easier to keep a record that way than it is to write it all out.”

“Whatever’s better for you. You’re the expert, after all. Bandits don’t have a lot of classified information laying around anyway.”

-

The dated ECHO recorder crackled to life. Vaughn made a mental note to try to acquire a newer one for her.

“Audio log, patient: Rhys Strongfork. Chief complaint: Unclear. Observation has revealed 104 degree fever, mildly infected cybernetic port of what is assumed to be Hyperion make, scattered mild to moderate contusions, and mild blood loss. Heart rate and blood pressure on the low end, but both present. Patient is also unconscious, etiology unclear. Assumed to be febrile. Notably, patient has cranial implant for ECHO-Eye, but eye and implant are both absent, appearing wounded, but not infected. Patient’s right arm is absent, shoulder site shows remains of additional cybernetics. History provided by friend of patient indicates recent removal of in-shoulder site. No major arteries appear to be severed but moderate to severe blood loss can be assumed with possible damage to the axillary artery; of course, this depends on the type of cybernetic that had been applied which is still unclear pending further inspection. Removal of aforementioned implants appears non-surgical, whether self-inflicted or otherwise. First course of action is to place IV line, push fluids, NSAID to bring down fever, and antibiotics. Following, we will proceed to manually cool the patient with cool, damp rags at major circulation points--forehead, left armpit, and both sides groin area. Expected outcome is patient regaining consciousness, at which time we will re-evaluate needs. If patient remains catatonic we will proceed with extended trauma eval. Please send for universal blood pack and transfusion gear, arrival ASAP, any courier. Pause log.”

River sighed. “Alright, Vaughn, let’s get started. Don’t worry, I won’t expect you to place an IV line, but you should probably watch just in case.” She gently touched Rhys’ forehead. “Rhys, sweetheart, I’m going to place an intravenous line in your left arm. If you can hear me right now, don’t pull it out when you wake up, okay?”

Vaughn peeked around her as she chose a small needle from her bag, hung up a bag of saline--pierced the bag with tubing with one hand, searched for a vein in Rhys’ arm with the other--then, in one fluid, almost dancelike motion, the needle was in and out, and the tubing in place. A small flowback of blood appeared when the needle went in, which River explained was the way you knew you hit the vein.

“It’s actually a good thing,” she said. “It’s pretty much the only time that you’re happy to make your patient bleed.” There was the soft laugh again.

Vaughn was happy she felt comfortable in the camp. She wasn’t the biggest fan of bandits in general, but had become a good friend to their motley crew in recent weeks. He just hoped Rhys liked her. “The reason for the fluids is twofold--we want to make sure he’s hydrated, of course, and it’s pretty apparent even a sippy cup is too dangerous for someone completely unconscious. The other reason is even more important--we also want to increase his blood volume however possible before we receive the blood pack. He doesn’t look like any sort of severe damage is being caused by the blood loss, but you don’t want to chance it, and recovery is a lot quicker when you’re not struggling to get enough nutrition to bring yourself back to a normal blood volume.” Vaughn nodded. She was really good at saying things that seemed complicated but in easy words. He was smart, but not medical smart. Just number smart. The only experience he had with medicine was when he was 16 and got his wisdom teeth removed...so he wasn’t exactly a qualified surgeon.

“Okay, Vaughn, here’s the next step. Now that’s been placed, we’ve got to start bringing that fever down, and the quickest way is manually, like with something cool and wet, which is why I asked you for some cool water and rags. Of course, part of that is just comfort. You might hear people call it 'supportive care,' as well. After that’s gone down a little, we won’t let your buddy be naked. Although, I have to admit, I’m not complaining about the view--I just wish he wasn’t so beat up, poor thing.”

Yep, Rhys would like her just fine.

“I’m gonna have you go ahead and get all those little cloths you brought wet, but not too wet. Like, wring them out so they aren’t dripping. I’m going to apply them to major pulse points, so his armpit and the area where his legs meet his body, like by the groin. I’m also going to gently wipe down his body to make sure he’s clean of sweat and dried blood, and give him a little wet towel on his forehead as well.”

Vaughn nodded and soaked everything in the water. River gently placed the cool, soothing towels on Rhys’ motionless body to a sudden response. A soft groan escaped Rhys’ lips. Vaughn immediately jumped to action, calling out his friend’s name, not realizing he was yelling. River gently pushed him to sit down in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, near Rhys’ head. She motioned him to be quiet, slowly bringing her left index finger to her lips. Rhys started to stir, moaning again, opening his mouth, eyelids twitching, life returning to his lifeless body, although his pallid skin betrayed his poor state.

River looked up to Vaughn with a smile and whispered “He’ll want to see you first. Better to wake up to a friend than a stranger. It can be really disorienting. Don’t forget when he went out he was laying on the ground in Jack’s office, and that he’s still pretty feverish, so we might have to repeat ourselves or he might say stuff that seems weird.” Vaughn nodded. He had been worrying about what would happen when Rhys woke up. I guess they’d just have to wait and see.

-

Rhys started to feel… present. His body felt hot, yet somehow cold. He ached all over. He could hear someone speaking softly, a familiar voice and an unfamiliar one. He tried to move and couldn’t. He strained to hear what was going on. It was pretty quiet. He could tell he was laying on his back, so he had to have been moved since he passed out after the crash. Was that a pillow under his head? He hadn’t laid on a real pillow since before his “promotion.” He suddenly felt someone removing his shoes. “This is it,” he thought. “Some crazy psycho cult is going to eat my extremities and harvest my organs. I lived through a space station crashing and I’m going to die because of some bandit.” His heart skipped a beat when whoever was touching him started speaking, it was the unfamiliar voice, clearer this time, clearly a woman... She likes his socks! He wanted so badly to respond. It seemed so ridiculous now, after his whole life had been uprooted, but a fun pair of socks were one of the last pieces of his individuality left after the demands of his job formed him into the kind of employee Hyperion wanted. He tried to say something. No words came out. He tried to move and still couldn’t. The female voice kept speaking, softly. He could feel her fingers touching his body, sweet and gentle but expertly firm where it mattered. She was strong, she could pick up the dead weight of his motionless body without much effort. Shit, did she just take his pants off? Well, at least it was a girl. Hopefully she was cute.

He laid there for a few minutes, wondering if the lady noticed his heart rate spike when she placed the IV, despite the fact that she didn’t really hurt him at all. She was honestly good at what she did. He still hadn’t caught her name, though. He was still kind of...drifting in a way, barely hearing the conversation going on between the unfamiliar woman and the familiar voice, which he could tell was a man. Who was it? Not like he had a lot of friends, but he knows a lot of people, and isn’t really sure who’s dead and who’s alive at this point. The woman started talking again, something about bringing a fever down--is she talking about him? Then a feeling of cool towels on his body. He tried to talk again, only resulting in a sound like “Mmhh..” but the male voice then yelled his name. He knew who it was now.

Vaughn. Vaughn saved him? Of course he did. Vaughn is his best friend. Vaughn is alive? Vaughn’s here? With this girl?What the hell is going on? He tried to speak again, tried to move, tried to do anything to let Vaughn know he was still there. Another groan and he felt some motion in his body but not near what he wanted to do. He tried desperately to open his eyes, as someone gently wiped his face with another damp cloth. He took a shuddering breath, and focused all of his energy on his eyes, his lips, his voice, his hand, anything he could move to say “I’m here! I want to wake up!”

-

River watched as Rhys took a deep breath. The clinical side of her noted to check his lungs for fluid later. That breath seemed a little rattle-y. She kicked herself for not checking that sooner. It was hard when your patient wasn’t conscious; usually they’re whining--er, complaining--about whatever is going on so much that you can’t miss it. His eyes opened slightly, and a small, masculine voice--raspy and atrophied from recent overuse followed by complete disuse--croaked “V-Vaughn?”

Vaughn sprung to life. “Rhys! I’m here! Are you okay? How are you feeling? What happened? Is there anything I can bring you? Do you need another pillow? Are you cold?”

“Geez, Vaughn, give him some time to wake up before all the questions! And maybe leave it to one question at once!” said River with a soft laugh. “Nice to meet you, Rhys. I’m River. Your friend here called me when he found you in the wreckage. I’m just about the only doctor this side of Pandora, and I’m the one who’s been taking care of you. Could you hear me earlier?”

“I-I think so,” said Rhys. “Please tell me you were the one that took my pants off.”

Vaughn frowned.

“Lucky for you, that was me,” she said, smiling warmly. She turned the opposite direction, looking at her watch, and said “ECHO, resume log. Patient regained consciousness approximately 3:15pm. Pause log.”

“Yeah, I definitely could hear you,” said Rhys. “I couldn’t really tell what you sounded like but now that you’re talking it was you for sure. I could hear Vaughn, too, and I knew that I knew him but I couldn’t tell who he was. Thanks for the compliment on my socks, by the way.”

“You’re welcome! I wear some of my own,” said River, taking off her boot to reveal a plain black sock with a separate compartment for each toe.

“Whoa,” said Vaughn. “That’s kind of cool and gross at the same time.”

“It’s so I can wear sandals with my socks if I want to!”

“Okay, it officially went to gross. Sorry River.”

“Yeah, that’s what people usually say. No one gets the practicality of toed socks!” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay, sorry to you guys get off on a weird sock tangent, but can I put some clothes on?” said Rhys, pushing himself up on the bed. He started coughing almost immediately.

“Oh, sweetheart, let me help you.” The tiny woman deftly pulled him up into a reclining position.

Vaughn frowned again. That cough was pretty deep, it sounded like it hurt. And for Rhys to need help… sitting? That’s not a good sign.

“Would you rather do your pants yourself or do you want my help?”

“Well, usually pretty girls end up taking my pants off, not putting them on, not that I’m trying to be gross about it or anything, just a joke--” Rhys immediately started coughing again. River sat gently rubbing his back in circles. She looked up at Vaughn with a look that said “Seriously?” Vaughn just shrugged. Sounded like he was going to be fine.

“Uh, anyway, w-what I meant was… yes-I-do-need-help-with-my-pants.” The latter half of the sentence came out all in one breath. Rhys looked down at the floor. River couldn’t tell if he was flushed because of the fever and coughing or if it was because he was one of those patients who act like every time they ask you for help, they’re inconveniencing you somehow.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she said, starting to lift the blanket before flicking her head at Vaughn in a “it’s time for you to leave the room” motion.

Vaughn blushed. “Uh… oh! Got it. See ya in a bit, Rhys.” Vaughn swiftly left the doctor and her patient alone.

-

“So I’ve done my observations, as you might have heard,” said River, swiveling her chair to pick up the pajamas Vaughn had supplied. “How would you say you’re doing? Anything I should know about?”

“Well, uh…” Rhys looked at the ceiling, blushing. This was humiliating. She might not be showing any indication of this but he knew it was. Usually around women he was the one commandeering the conversation, making the jokes, making the passes, making the girls blush. Instead, this time, he’s laying in a bed half clothed while she’s just having her way with him, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

River cleared her throat. “Well?” She was finished helping him change, and had been waiting for his response for who knows how long.

“Oh, sorry, I was kind of… lost in thought there.” She smiled silently. “Well, um, geez, where do I start?” he laughed nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” she said, seemingly reading his mind. “I’m here to help, and trust me, I’ve seen and heard much worse.”

She was oddly disarming, and before he knew it he was spilling his guts, desperate to tell someone--anyone--about what happened with Jack. He told her about him being in his head. He told her about being threatened by Jack. It felt like Jack owned him. He told her about pulling off his mechanical arm. He told her about tearing out both pieces of the ECHO eye implant. Suddenly he was back to reality. She was sitting next to him, instead of across from him like she was before, and she was holding a small handkerchief. Was he crying? He made eye contact with her, reluctantly, expecting disgust, expecting pity, expecting an incredulous laugh, expecting shock and horror. What he found was kindness, concern, and empathy. That just made him cry more.

River reached out to gently stroke the man's arm. "That's okay, let it all out. Sounds like you've got a lot of pent up feelings in that pretty little head."

He chuckled humorlessly. "You could say that."

#rhys #rhys the company man #rhys the ceo #vaughn the money man #vaughn the bandit king #rhys strongfork #borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tftbl #rhys whump #hurt/comfort? #medicine #field medicine #whump #my writing

[88missmarauder88]

Sirius x Reader / Remus x Reader -- Part IV

SO SORRY for the delay. Already working on Part V, so it won’t be far behind! And if I’ve forgotten anyone in this tag list, please message me and let me know!

Tag List: @ideas-nocturnas , @evyiione , @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl , @intense-sneezing , @ghostlyrose2 , @peasantview , @la-fille-en-aiguilles , @toasterking , @too-involved , @onthebroadway , @comebackanothertime , @hfflpffs-shit , @actually-a-tree , @ohhowthetableshaveturnedd , @justducky0423 

"I'm really not in a party mood, Lily."

You slumped against the railing at the top of the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower. For someone who'd been unconscious for the better part of two days, you were exhausted. All you wanted was to crawl into your own bed and stay there. Possibly permanently. Or at least until Sirius and Remus were both graduated and married. Not that they'd ever be able to find girls good enough for them, of course, but-- Merlin's pants, were you actually jealous of fictional girls now?

"Don't frown so, my dear!" the Fat Lady chirped. "You'll develop wrinkles!"

"No offence, but that could not be lower on my list of concerns right now," you grumbled.

"Y/N, I know how you feel, I really do. On all accounts," Lily sighed, leaning over the railing beside you.

"Then please just tell them I'm ill. And cursed. And transferring to Beauxbatons."

"You know better than I do that if I said you were ill, they'd go into nursemaid mode again, and I will not have Sirius Black playing harmonica in my dorm room. Besides, it's not just them. The whole House is waiting."

You groaned. "All right, here's the plan. We go in, you shout that Marlene's about to get her kit off, and I escape while everyone's distracted."

"No. For two reasons. Firstly, because Marlene would actually take that as a cue to get her kit off, and secondly, because you have got to talk to Sirius. The longer you let it go, the worse things are going to get for the two of you and for Remus. And I know you don't want to hurt Remus, Y/N."

"Oh I do adore a triangle amoureux!" the Fat Lady gasped. "But you'll of course choose the Lupin boy... such a fine, polite lad. That Black, on the other hand--"

"Do you mind?" you snapped.

"Well!" the portrait sniffed. "Forgive me for attempting to offer my counsel as someone older, wiser, and--"

"Nosier, yes, we know." You turned back to Lily. "And no, I don't. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt Remus. But what if I'm wrong about all of it, Lily? I'll just end up making an arse of myself, and they'll both never look at me the same way again."

"And what if you're right? All the wondering and worrying will be over, and by tomorrow, you could be looking across the breakfast table at the love of your life."

You desperately did not want to allow yourself to get carried away by daydreams, but you couldn't ignore the slight flutter in your stomach at the thought. Maybe you were just misreading Remus. Maybe his odd behaviour was a side effect of his more difficult transformations. Maybe he was nervous about whether or not the boys' animagus plans would work, or that you'd find out what they'd done and be angry.

Maybe Lily was right, and in a few hours, you could finally look into those maddening grey eyes and not be terrified about what they might see in yours.

You turned to Lily with a shrug and a grudging smile you couldn't quite fight off. "Your eternal optimism is contagious."

"Hooray!" she cried, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Now we just have to figure out how to get you two alone in a room full of people."

"One of those people being Remus," you said, your brow furrowing again.

"Ignore the remainder of my sage advice if you wish, but you truly must stop scowling, child," the Fat Lady interjected. "One cannot hope to achieve a pleasing visage by constantly giving one's countenance over to gloom. Surely you've noticed my flawless complexion?"

"Which I reckon has nothing at all to do with the fact you're a painting."

"My but aren't you a cheeky sprite. Perhaps you're a bit more suited to the Black boy after all..."

"Oh, Sir Cadogan! The Fat Lady was just telling us how she'd love to hear the tale of your triumph over the Wyvern of Wye again!"

"Why, you little--!"

"KNICKERBOCKER GLORY!!" Lily shouted. The Fat Lady huffily swung aside, and Lily shoved you through the hole in the wall and into the Gryffindor common room.

"Honestly, Y/N, you and Sirius do give that poor woman more grief..."

"She started it!" you began, but you were quickly cut off.

"WELCOME BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS!!"

The entirety of Gryffindor House bellowed out their greeting in unison, and you couldn't help but smile. All the turmoil within your group of closest friends had cast a shadow over the joy that usually accompanied returning to Hogwarts for a new year. But the warm, familiar faces who came rushing over to pat you on the back or pull you into a hug put you unexpectedly at ease, and you found yourself thinking you might just be in a bit of a party mood after all.

You scanned the room and found three-quarters of the Marauders introducing a large crowd to a table laden with butterbeer and firewhisky. Lily, meanwhile, had made a beeline in that direction, and she and Remus were now engaged in frantically attempting to snatch bottles and cups out of the hands of wide-eyed first and second years.

"Some seeker you are!" Gideon Prewett grinned, ruffling your hair.

"Right!" his twin, Fabian, chimed in. "How are you ever going to spot that wee little Snitch if you can't even see a bloody bludger heading straight for your noggin!"

You wrapped an arm around each of the Gryffindor chasers' necks before giving a sharp tug, knocking their heads together. They joined you in laughter, and you allowed yourself to be led off to the sofa in front of the fire, where you proceeded to drown your anxiety in blissfully uncomplicated chatter with the Prewetts, Marlene, Frank, Alice, and Emmeline. This was the Hogwarts you'd been missing, and you sank back into the soft cushions, determined to enjoy it while it lasted. No decisions, no choices; just the firelight, reflecting off the Prewetts' collar-length ginger hair till it danced like the flames themselves as they took turns doing rather spot-on impressions of Slughorn and Kettleburn. Just Marlene, endearingly loud and brash, vying not-so-subtly for one of the Prewetts' attention... or both, you couldn't rightly tell. Frank and Alice, stealing glances and touching hands when they thought no one was looking. Worst-kept secret at Hogwarts, but it was sweet the way they still assumed nobody knew. Emmeline, shy and quiet, but always beaming, enjoying the company.

After a half-hour or so, however, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

"Could you give me a hand over here, Y/N?"

Reluctantly, you joined Lily at the base of the staircases and, with effort, fought down the urge to sprint up to your room and away from whatever was about to happen. You'd been contemplating telling her to forget the whole thing, that getting involved with any of your friends was a daft idea and you'd changed your mind. But watching Frank and Alice, you couldn't help but think... was it so bad to want something like that for yourself?

"There he is," Lily whispered, bumping her elbow into your side and nodding towards the far window. Two armchairs sat facing it, and over the back of one, you could see the top of Sirius's head. The other, you noted with a hint of nausea, was empty.

"You're not going to get a better opportunity."

"I know."

"Are you ready?"

"Nope."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've just been hit by the Knight Bus."

"Well... none of that is good, but I don't think it's going to get better until this is over, so... break a leg, love."

"I'd much rather."

With a deep breath, you somehow prompted your cold, numb legs to carry you towards the window. Dropping onto the empty armchair, you sat stiffly on the edge of the cushion, staring into the darkness beyond the window. Your limbs felt like they'd been starched, but you did your best to assume a casual position, realising you probably looked more like someone had tossed aside a marionette instead. Your throat was parched, and you glanced longingly at the drinks table for a moment before biting down on your bottom lip and clutching the arms of the chair in an attempt to focus. You were a right mess, and you couldn't go on like this. It was now or never.

You turned towards Sirius, who was looking at you quizzically, his eyes dark in the dim light. You forced your voice to manifest, and it sounded just as croaky as you'd figured it would. Fuck.

"Hey, you."

"WELCOME BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS!!"

James turned from the crate of butterbeer he was unloading in time to see you smiling at your assembled classmates. He immediately glanced to his right and left.

Sirius had a bottle of Blishen's in his hand; slowly, he lowered it to the table, his eyes fixed intently on you. Sighing, James turned to Remus, who had dropped the empty cups he'd been trying to fill with punch before Sirius could fill them with firewhisky. Pity he didn't know Sirius had already spiked the punch. Remus looked as if he were about to hyperventilate as he stared at you, and James rubbed his eyes wearily with the heels of his palms. It was going to be a long night.

Remus barely registered the sound of the stack of empty cups he'd been holding hitting the floor. You were smiling, and you were beautiful when you smiled. Not that you weren't beautiful when you didn't smile... you were beautiful all the time and... a bit extra beautiful when you smiled?

Well, that clinched it. He was not cut out for this.

Worse than that, he felt like he'd already ruined things between the two of you without even saying a word. You were his best friend, for Merlin's sake. If this were last year, he'd be bounding over to you right now, scooping you into a bear hug, and the two of you would spend the rest of the night laughing and swapping chocolates and taking wagers on when, where, and after how many firewhiskys James would pass out. Instead, you were chatting with the Prewett twins, and he was standing here like a numpty and sweating.

At least you looked happy to see everyone; Remus had worried you'd just want to go to bed after finally getting out of hospital. Frankly, he'd wanted to do the same after confessing his feelings to the lads. The walk back to the castle had been unusually quiet, but James had seemed adamant that if Remus intended to let you know how he felt, the sooner would be the better.

"Remus!"

Remus jumped, startled out of his thoughts, and inadvertently kicked a few empty cups across the floor. They were immediately snatched up by a delighted-looking pair of fourth years, who dunked them into the punch and began guzzling. A bit of a line had formed at the punch bowl. At least some people appreciated a nice, simple beverage. He glanced up to see Lily rushing towards him.

She pointed angrily to Remus's right, and, as per usual, Remus found James and Sirius at the end of that finger. They were cheerfully waving everyone over to the drinks table like social directors on a holiday cruise.

"The third years can have butterbeer -- to a point -- but they can not have firewhisky, and the first and second years can't have anything other than punch..."

Remus didn't in the slightest feel like spending the evening playing cup-and-bottle cop, but neither did he want to let Lily down. He glanced behind him as he plucked a firewhisky out of the hands of a second year to see you making your way towards the sofa, arms around the Prewetts, whom Remus suddenly and irrationally hated.

On second thought, he could use a distraction.

Sirius halted midway through filling a cup with firewhisky to watch as the irritated look on your face when you first entered the common room slowly melted into a smile.

You had rather a lot of smiles. This one was genuine; you looked a bit relieved and happy to see everyone, and Sirius was glad of that. He hadn't figured you'd be in a party mood, but you were good at adjusting when the situation called for it. Then there was the polite smile you reserved for professors and casual acquaintances. The slightly pained smile when you wished someone would go away but were too nice to put it out there. Two others were high on his list of favourites: the truly delighted one always lit up your eyes and reminded Sirius of the girl he'd met five years ago; the wicked grin that usually preceded a great prank idea excited him for a growing variety of reasons.

But there was one smile in particular Sirius liked to think was his and his alone. At least, he'd never seen it directed at anyone else. It was rather like the childlike one but mixed with a complete sort of ease that seemed to indicate you were precisely where you wanted to be in that moment. He'd almost started to let himself believe that, just maybe, where you wanted to be was with--

"Finished with that, mate?" James asked, studying Sirius's face as he gently took the bottle of Blishen's from his hand. Sirius blinked a few times, then grinned.

"Yep. All done with it."

He cast a glance your direction and made a quick mental note to put itching powder in the Prewetts' Quidditch gear tomorrow. Then he spread his arms wide.

"Come and get it, lads and lassies! Drinks are on the Marauders tonight!"

James popped open another butterbeer and surveyed the common room.

Remus was sitting on a desk near the portrait hole, pretending to listen to Peter, who was on another rant about his failed attempts to use Engorgio to make himself taller. Remus's heels were battering nervously off the legs of the desk as he stared at you on the couch, and he looked as if he might vomit at any given moment. Fantastic.

Sirius was sitting alone in one of the armchairs by the window. He'd forgone the cups and was drinking directly from the last bottle of firewhisky. He'd kicked off his boots, and his hair was a mess. He looked like a rock star coming off a weekend binge. Marvelous.

Meanwhile, the number of little kids passed out in various spots and positions around the room was increasing. Hilarious.

James flopped onto a nearby chair and downed the rest of his butterbeer.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"I generally am, Evans."

Sadly, he didn't have the energy to tack an additional pithy remark onto that. He barely had the energy to lift his eyelids, but he made the effort just to see her glaring at him, one hand on her hip and the other clutching her wand. She was adorable when she was angry.

"Children, drunk. Rubbish, everywhere. About ten school rules, broken. And as usual, you're all present and accounted for when it's time to make the mess, but you'll be nowhere to be found when it's time to clean it up."

Evans was saying something prefect-y, but James's thoughts were louder. Mess. That's what it all was, and he couldn't deal with it by himself anymore. He hadn't had any bloody time to think between what happened in Honeydukes' cellar and now. There was too much to sort out, and he needed help.

"Potter, are you even listening to me?"

"Not in the slightest. Hey, Evans, I need a favour."

"The nerve of you! You are the most selfish, arrogant git I have ever encountered."

"Absolutely right."

"Never giving a fig for anyone else until you need something, and then we're all supposed to jump to attention because the great James Potter snapped his fingers."

"Completely inexcusable."

"You're drunk, aren't you."

"Tremendously, but look, Evans, I'm serious. Will you please at least hear me out?"

Lily looked torn for a moment, but slowly, the redness began to fade from her cheeks, and she sat down primly with a dramatic sigh.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"I know something about some people, and it's some people you know something about too, but you know your something from someone else, and you only know half of it, but I know the other half, so if we put it all together, we might be able to do something."

Lily stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "I can't even put that sentence together."

James sat up in his chair and slapped himself on the cheeks a few times. Not only was this his chance to get another perspective on his problem, it was the first time he could recall that Evans had spent more than a minute talking to him without hexing him and/or storming off. He couldn't blow this.

"Sorry, let me try again. I know that you know that Y/N fancies Sirius and Remus fancies Y/N."

Lily's eyes widened in shock.

"I... erm... well, she... wait -- how do you know I know that?"

James held up his hands, very conscious of the fact she was still holding her wand.

"Please do not hex me. I was asleep in here when the two of you came in, and when I woke up, you were already in the thick of it. I tried, but I couldn't not hear you."

"So you were spying on us!" Lily's wand hand twitched.

"No!" James said quickly. "I told you, I tried not to hear. Either way, though, she's one of my closest friends, Evans. You know I can't abide her hurting. All I want to do is help."

Lily took a deep breath and nodded. "Go on."

"I decided to see if I could suss out how Pads and Moony felt. If it wasn't like she thought, I would've let her know. But it turns out, it's almost exactly like she thought. Remus is definitely in love with her. But... I think Sirius is too."

Lily rubbed her forehead for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, before looking behind her at Remus and Sirius, then back at James.

"She didn't want to get her hopes up about Sirius. And mind you, I'm not a fan, and I don't at all see the appeal, but if it's what they both want... maybe it'd do them both some good. The problem is, she can't stand the thought of hurting Remus."

"That's not the only problem. Apparently, Pads can't either. Moony told us all how he felt earlier, and Sirius said he should go for it with Y/N."

"Perfect," Lily groaned. "Who knew Black was actually noble. So has Remus told her yet?"

"Have you seen him? It's a wonder he hasn't bloody combusted and taken Pete with him."

"Then we have to let Y/N talk to Sirius, Potter. If he decides after hearing her out that he still wants to step aside for Remus, then at least Y/N knows where she stands. I don't want anyone to get hurt either, but it's up to them now. And if Black and Y/N really are in love, they'll find their way to each other no matter what happens next."

James hated feeling like the whole thing was out of his control, but Evans was right. After a moment, he nodded, and she stood and headed towards the couch before pausing and turning back to him.

"Potter?"

"Evans?"

"It's... very nearly human of you to care so much."

James thought his grin might split his face in two as Evans walked off, calling over her shoulder, "Now clean up some of this mess, you irresponsible oaf!"

Why "Hey, you"? Of all the idiotic things you could have said... should you run? Maybe you should just run. He'd think you'd drunk yourself ill, and you could both forget the whole thing. Then again, judging from the empty cups on the floor around him and the nearly empty bottle in his hand, he had an impressive head start on you.

"Ah, the girl of the hour!" Sirius said, raising the bottle of firewhisky in your direction. You took the opportunity to snatch it from his hand and drain the remainder of its contents. Liquid courage and all that.

"Hey, that was--"

"The last of the firewhisky, yes. Sharing is caring."

Sirius gave you a lopsided smile and dropped back into his chair. He was fairly well sloshed, but maybe that was a good thing. You could find out how he felt, and chances were better than average he wouldn't even remember it tomorrow.

"Sirius, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Well, this was off to a rousing start. Before you could think of a new angle, a pair of sixth-year girls sauntered past on their way to the drinks table, eyelashes fluttering and lips pouted in Sirius's direction. You looked over to see him watching them; he nodded, and your heart sank. What were you thinking? Every girl at this school but Lily fancied him. Not for the reasons you did, of course... not because they'd peered into all his dark corners and found his truest self hiding in them. But at the same time, would they not give their right arms to be in your position? After all, you were the one sitting next to him as he paid an unusual amount of attention to a hole in his sock. You were his friend. What would you do if you lost that? What if love in this case meant just knowing when to leave well enough alone?

Lily's voice interrupted as clearly as if she'd been whispering in your ear. 

"Love is worth taking all the risks in the world for."

"I need to ask you something else. Something important."

Sirius just wanted to go to bed.

The fun of watching Polly Prefect Evans handing out glasses of spiked punch to the first and second years had faded quicker than he'd hoped, seeing as it was the only distraction he had. Now, it was just him and firewhisky, and his head already felt like a swarm of Billywigs was infesting it -- had done ever since Remus blurted out those words in the cellar.

In that instant, Sirius had felt nothing but anger and pain. At first, he'd been angry with Moony. Why did he have to fall in love with you? You were already his best friend; the two of you spent loads of time together, reading, re-reading, talking about bloody reading. Why wasn't that enough? But Sirius was angrier with himself, for getting his hopes up. He'd been telling himself for two years now that whatever changes he thought he was sensing in his feelings for you were nothing but a recipe for disaster. A good way to fuck up friendships. But every time he thought he had himself convinced, that other little voice in his head would bleed through: But what if...?

What if you felt the same way? Surely he wasn't imagining the little glimmer of something in your eyes that hadn't been there before whenever you looked at him... though, considering how quickly you usually looked away, it was hard to tell. But he definitely hadn't imagined the flush in your cheeks in the hospital wing... though, you could have just been self-conscious knowing the lads were staring.

Sirius kicked off his boots and ran his hands through his hair in agitation before taking another long pull off the bottle. This "maybe this" and "except for that" bollocks was driving him round the bend, and just when he was finally thinking he'd worked up the courage to take a chance, here came Remus. And it would be Remus, wouldn't it? Probably always had been. He was the best friend. The book reader. And Sirius was just-- no. It wasn't fair to pretend he'd ever felt beneath Remus in your eyes. You'd never been anything but kind to him. You made him feel valued and understood and accepted. The hang-up was his, but it was one he was beginning to think he'd never get around.

Sirius the devoted friend and confidant would love you till the day he died. Sirius the heir to the House of Black would never put you in the path of the insanity that entailed. Especially not if there was an alternative. Someone who'd be better for you.

Sirius's heart shot into his throat as you tumbled stiffly onto the chair beside him. What the fuck? Was he putting out some sort of misery tractor beam? He quickly took a few more swallows of whisky. You were fidgeting awkwardly all over the chair, clearly nervous, and Sirius had to fight with all the sobriety he had left not to reach over and hold you still. And then never let go.

Instead, he stared dumbly at you until, finally, you glanced over.

"Hey, you."

Shit, did you just say something? His ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't tell... quick, say something back, moron!

"Ah, the girl of the hour!"

What the hell was that?! And did he just toast you?! Merlin's saggy--

You plucked the bottle out of his hand, and all Sirius could do was mumble, "Hey, that was--"

"The last of the firewhisky, yes. Sharing is caring."

Banter. Banter was good. Sirius tried to force a convincing smile onto his face and fell backwards against the cushion; it was either that or fall forwards onto his face at this point. He had lost all control of his motor skills.

"Sirius, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

That was not the correct use of banter. Fuck. Just don't say anything else. Nonverbal communication only. Bloody hell, was that a hole in his sock? How was he supposed to take care of anyone else if he couldn't even take care of himself? Sirius's train of thought was derailed by a couple of sixth years prancing by, but he nodded, hoping you'd take the prompt to go ahead and ask your question. He also hoped the older girls' faces would stick in those stupid expressions they were wearing. All this rapid blinking and lip puckering... you never did frivolous nonsense like that.

Sirius looked over at you in time to catch that something different in your eyes again and froze.

"I need to ask you something else. Something important."

Not that. Anything but that, Y/N. He couldn't give you the kind of uncomplicated love you deserved. He couldn't keep you safe. And Moony... he'd always been afraid, consumed by that "someone like me can never have a normal life" bullshit. For him to want to tell a girl he loved her was huge. That was the sort of love that was worthy of yours.

Sirius's heart felt like it was shattering as he looked at you. How much fucking firewhisky did it take to not feel anything at all? Don't let her say it. You can't let her say it.

"Can... can it wait till later?" he stammered, tearing his eyes away from yours. "I, erm... I've got a date."

#sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #young!sirius black x reader #young!remus lupin x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #marauders #marauders era #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era imagine #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders fanfiction

[meganshinsou-tm]

Shared Walls. (m)

↳ chapter twenty-two: finale

❧ genre: pro-hero shouto, coworkers to lovers, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

Intense turquoise eyes looked at the patch of snow that your body had occupied only seconds ago, it was painted red - no, it was drenched in red. Enji could only imagine how deep the blood had soaked through the cold matter, possibly all the way down to the hard earth that lay beneath it. The hero wasn’t ever truly ever bothered by blood, not the sight nor the smell, but to see the liquid soaking your clothes, staining your skin; to see it staining his son’s clothes and his own hands as he held you - it bothered him.

He had failed not only his son, but he failed you as well. If only he had drove faster, searched faster, if only he had been faster period then just maybe you wouldn’t have been harmed. Enji was already the indirect cause of his own son’s wounds, now you were added to that list.

“Hey human-furnace, you gonna help me out here? I’m still a little too weak or else I’d do it my damn self.”

Enji cringed at the smug voice calling out to him, his massive fist clenching and teeth gritting as his flames ignited even more.

“Oh - did I strike a match,” Dabi chuckled.

Enji revved around to face the cremation villain, his massive leg blazing hot as it struck against the ice cocoon and shattered it into pieces. Dabi’s body weakly rolled out from it and was quickly picked up by the throat, eyes that matched his own staring back at him.

“I should throttle you right now boy,” Enji growled.

Dabi coughed on his short supply of air, a smug grin still gracing his features as his hands wrapped around the massive one holding him up. “..b-but you won’t, isn’t that right?”

“En-Enji, don’t hurt D-Dabi please – he s-saved me.”

Your one request echoed back in the hero’s head. His teeth bared as he shucked Dabi down into the snow and replaced his hand with a booted foot on his chest, pressing and keeping the male from evading him.

“Why did you tell her to run, wasn’t this all your doing in the first place?”

Dabi sighed, letting is head fall back with a soft thud into the snow, “Technically. I was going to bring her back once this shitty weather slacked off but that piece of shit came and fucked everything up. I was never going to hurt her just have fun and then - well I just - ugh fuck chief!”

Enji crushed Dabi’s chest harder under his boot, “You fucked everything up by taking her in the first place. Spare me your epiphany, I don’t care. Be thankful for her kindness, it’s your only saving grace.”

With that Enji finally let up and stalked away from Dabi. The villain sat up, coughing and groaning as he brushed off his shirt. Slowly he stumbled to his feet, stretching and cracking his bones as he walked towards Lucas still in his own ice prison.

“I was blessed by an angel, I know. Now excuse me while I burn this fucker to ash,” Dabi sneered as he looked upon a grinning Lucas and the flames from his palm slowly flickered to life.

Enji shoved the male to the side, throwing him off balance as he was still slightly woozy from the blood drain. Dabi groaned and glared at the towering hero.

“You won’t be doing anything, I’ll be taking him in and he’ll rot in Tartarus.”

“Look I understand you’re a hero big guy and that ‘ justice’ is your thing, but I can still kill him. There’s no sense in keeping him alive. Did you see what he did to her back there, the mother of your future bouncing baby grand-kid!”

Enji’s head whipped in Dabi’s direction, disbelief washing over his face and his flames suddenly going off as if someone hosed him down with a fire extinguisher.

“I-I’m sorry, what?”

Dabi flashed a shit eating grin and nodded, “Oh yeah, congratulations, your son isn’t firing any blanks.”

A laugh escaped from Lucas as he listened on, “That’s why she tasted different, had I known I would’ve taken care of the little spawn myself.”

Enji eyed Lucas, the blood in his veins bubbling over and boiling as his flames reignited. His fist came down in a blaze of glory, straight to Lucas’s mouth. The hero could feel every single tooth plucking flee from his gums and shooting down his throat. Lucas violently coughed up the teeth, blood spewing from his lips and down his shirt, dribbling down the ice.

Dabi shrugged, “Well, I guess he can’t bite if he doesn’t have teeth.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Enji groaned, cracking his knuckles and stepping away from the now toothless man.

With a sigh Dabi finally waved off the hero, turning on his feet to walk away before stopping and gritting his teeth.

“You know, if he stays alive, his idiotic followers are bound to come after him. They’re fucking nuts, I know, and they won’t hesitate to try and free him or do his bidding from the outside.”

Enji scoffed, melting the ice that encased Lucas who was now almost unconscious from pain, “They can try.”

That was all Enji had left to say before turning on his own heels and making his way back to the family cabin. Dabi shook his head, rubbing the side of his neck as he continued to walk as well.

“Stupid old man.”

The sound of steady beeping is the first thing you heard when you woke. It smelled sterile instead of damp musk like the cabin and your eyes snapped open as the panic took over you. Lucas carving into your flesh and Dabi’s fiery rescue played back through your mind and you inhaled deeply before your (e/c) eyes darted around the room and looked down at yourself. The beeping of the heart monitor next to you sped up gradually.

You were in a hospital gown, IV in your arm.

Safe.

No Lucas to be found.

The monitor returned to normal as the new information sunk in.

You looked at your arms, fingers tugging softly on the collar of your gown to look at your chest before you pulled your blanket to the side to look at your thighs. Several new small scars, half a letter here and there … but the word ‘mine’ had been erased from your skin. That fact alone made you tear up, but you wiped your eyes to look at the sleeping form next to you. Clothes wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes. Red and white hair a mess.

Shouto. Your Shouto.

A small smile pulled on your lips as you looked over him, his head rested on his arms next to you on the bed. He looked exhausted and you itched to run your fingers through his dual-colored locks, but instead decided to let him sleep. The familiar sound of Enji speaking quietly met your ears as you heard him slip into the room.

His turquoise eyes widened as he saw you and you lifted your hand in a small wave as he walked up the the opposite side of the bed. He glanced at Shouto before giving a rare smile, gently taking your hand in his much larger one.

“When did you wake up? How are you feeling?” He murmured.

“Just a few minutes ago. And I feel fine, you don’t have to worry, Enji. Truly.” You squeezed his hand softly and he nodded before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

“Good. I’m glad. You sit tight, I’m gonna go get the doctor, alright?” You nodded, and he gave your hand a last squeeze before turning and walking back out the door.

You looked back at Shouto, thinking back at how you met him during your interview. The smile crawled onto your face as you thought about how he almost froze your hand with his nerves and how his quirk still glitches around you sometimes. There was something about him that truly made you feel like it was fate that brought you two together, not just your scars on matching sides or how you two came together like magnets. No matter what happened, Shouto was there to help you through it all.

You finally laced your fingers gently into his hair, stroking the strands affectionately back into place. It’s several seconds before you hear him grumble softly at being woken up, his eye cracking open and looking around before landing on you. You smiled as he snapped up, immediately sitting up and looking over you.

“You’re awake!” His voice was more like a croak and you laughed softly before gently motioning him up for a hug.

“Hi Roki,” You whispered, loving the way his arms felt around you and the comfort they brought. He kissed your forehead and gave you a tender smile.

“I was so worried,” he said softly, gently cupping your cheek as you looked at your hands. His face fell as your eyes locked onto your wrist, a guilty expression painting your features. “What’s the matter?”

“The bracelet you gave me,” you said sadly, lifting your hand to show him. “He took it off.”

Shouto gently lifted your face to look at him again, “Shh, it’s just a piece of string, we can replace it. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He replied and pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands hung from his wrists, thumbs brushing his cool and warm skin with a smile as you whispered. “I knew you’d find me Shouto.”

“I’ll always find you.”

Nodding, your head tilted into him as you went to kiss each other after what felt like ages. You were breathing okay but if you could get just one kiss from him then all the oxygen in you would be replenished. Just as his soft lips brushed your own though, a light knock came at the door before the knob was being turned. Like two teenagers being caught, your heads hung low with defeated sighs. Shouto kissed your cheek and sat back up straight, turning to see his father and the doctor walking in, both of your hands firmly gripped in his own in your lap.

“The doctor just needs to do a quick check-up,” Enji stated with an apologetic smile.

You nodded and Shouto hesitantly moved from the bed, allowing the doctor full access to you. He listened to your heartbeat and breathing then checked your temperature.

“How are you feeling,” he asked.

“I feel okay, just a little tired and I’m hungry, really hungry.”

Shouto chuckled, “Of course you are, when he gets done we’ll order you some food. Whatever you want.”

The doctor went on to explain that they healed all your cuts the best they could, the only major scar left behind was on your lower back from when Lucas had practically impaled his claws into your flesh. By now, scars were nothing to you though, if anything they made you feel alive, simply because you were alive. Among the multiple cuts Lucas inflicted, he did drain a decent amount of blood from your body that needed to be replaced and the doctor explained further on that.

“Of course we needed to run a few tests just to make sure you were okay from all the bites, Mr. Todoroki here also mentioned something about you saying there was a baby, so we took this information as something to test as well while we were at it for safety precautions of course.”

Your heart stopped suddenly and your hand squeezed Shouto’s. He grunted and looked at you, a hand coming up and combing through your hair. “Are you okay?”

Looking up to him you nodded and sheepishly smiled. “I’m fine Shouto, I just sort of forgot all about that. I don’t remember too much after you showed up. What exactly did I say?”

The half and half hero smirked and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s kind of funny, all you said was ‘ baby ’ and at first I thought you were calling out to me. Then you mumbled about needing to check on the baby and make sure it’s alright.”

Your head fell in embarrassment. “Oh god Shouto - I’m so sorry.”

“What, why are you sorry?”

“Well that’s not exactly how I wanted to tell you, I can only imagine what you thought. I mean I don’t even know if you want kids, or even like them, we’ve never had this talk before. This is crazy though right - if I’m really pregnant? I mean Dabi is the one who brought it up in the first place. I didn’t believe him and thought it was nuts then he’s all smug like “Look angel when you do it raw and never pull ou - mph!”

Shouto quickly placed his hand over your mouth before you could continue spewing word vomit in front of the doctor and his father, who was side-eyeing him.

“Uh, sweetheart, how about we let the doctor finish and we can talk about this later?”

Your face went red as you realized how much you were rambling on, about to spill the beans of your sex life with Shouto with his own father in the room. (E/c) eyes looked to the massive man who was now quietly chuckling as he shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Please doctor, go on,” Enji instructed.

The doctor nodded while clearing his throat and put his clipboard under his arm.

“Well Ms. (L/N), you are in fact pregnant, I’d say you’re about a month and half. You’re very fortunate there was no major trauma caused to your abdomen besides the cuts. Since you seem to be doing fine I’m going to discharge you and request you take it easy. Get a lot of rest and try to avoid any unnecessary stress until you can see a obstetrician and they can let you know more about the condition of the fetus. We’ve done all we could do, now let your body do the rest.”

Shouto and Enji both nodded.

“I’ll make sure she takes it easy doctor, thank you,” Shouto replied as his hand continued to pet your hair, his other hand on your shoulder.

The doctor smiled warmly and gave both of you a brief ‘congrats’ before nodding to everyone and taking his leave. You let out a sigh and looked up to Shouto. He looked down to you, a warm smile as his face as he cupped your cheek. You went to speak but the sound of your stomach alarming the entire room that you were starving halted your words.

Enji chuckled and strode around to the other side of the bed where he squatted and was level with you. He took your small hand in his and let his thumb rub over the skin of your wrist.

“It may be a little while before you’re discharged so how about I order some pizza? Two larges just for you since you’re eating for two now?”

Shouto lightly chuckled above you and you nodded, “Thank you Enji, for everything.”

Enji stood to bend over and give you a hug, his massive arms enclosing around you like protective steel gates. You hugged him back tightly and kissed his cheek before he broke away. He ruffled your hair then walked towards the door, Shouto trailing behind him. They both stopped and Enji turned to his son with a smirk.

“So we got her back plus one huh?”

Shouto chortled and quickly hugged his father, “Thank you dad, thank you for helping to bring her back to me.”

The hell-flame hero hugged his son back, one hand resting on his head and petting his hair as though he was a young boy. “Of course Shouto. I love you son, I love you both and will always be here to help out,” Enji replied as he pulled away, “And right now I need to get the mother of your child some food so she can start growing a big and healthy baby boy yeah?”

“Enji,” you giggled from the bed.

“I’m kidding! I’ll be back soon with food.”

After Enji left Shouto made his way back to the bed and asked if he could lay next to you. Happily you moved over enough to let him in and immediately molded to his side, arms wrapping around his waist as you looked up to him. Before you could even ask, Shouto was answering your silent request for a kiss, his warm and all too familiar lips capturing your own and breathing that air back into your lungs that you needed to feel complete again. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, finger sweeping across his tarnished and beautiful skin as his arms wrapped around you tight. You couldn’t get enough of being back in each others arms, capturing the others smiles with your lips.

“I love you so much Shouto, always,” you breathed on his lips when pulling away hesitantly.

Shouto cupped your hand on his cheek and kissed the palm of it before melting into it, “I love you so much more (Y/N), forever.”

With a smile your head rested on Shouto’s warm chest as he held you close and you listened to his heart beating softly, perfectly in tune with your own that could still be overhead on the monitor.

A black SUV pulled into the driveway of a cozy modern home early in the afternoon, the drivers side door opened and closed, Shouto sighing as he slung his work bag over his shoulder and locked the vehicle. He went to walk around it and up the short pathway to the front door of the house, halting and smiling when he heard a soft and sweet sound floating down from a window on the second story. It was a sound he’d come to expect every day that he arrived home from work, a sound he always looked forward to. Shouto recalled when he only ever heard your singing through the vent of his bathroom at the apartments you both lived in before finally settling together in a proper home, how he always wondered who the voice on the other side of his shared wall belonged to and not once ever thinking that voice belong to his future girlfriend, future fiance, future mother of his unborn child - his future overall.

Of course he could always just request to hear your singing whenever he pleased, but there was something bittersweet about hearing it from afar. He stood in the cold snow a few more minutes, letting your melodic tune welcome him home before entering it. After shrugging off his bag, coat and boots the man made his way upstairs. Once he reached the bedroom he stopped for a minute, leaning against the wall and listening to your singing a little while longer.

“And it's not a cry that you hear at night. It's not somebody who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah. Hallelujah...hallelujah…”

Shouto smiled and lightly knocked on the bedroom door, peeking his head in to find you laying back against the headboard of the bed. One hand rubbing your pregnant belly and the other holding up a baby book as you read through it. He chuckled upon walking in and seeing the countless cartons of milk crowding the bedside table along with two boxes of Pocky. His knees hit the mattress and gently Shouto crawled up the bed towards you.

Putting the book down you smiled and wrapped your hands around his neck pulling Shouto in closer, his arms trapping your hips as he leaned in and gifted you a warm kiss. You hummed and kissed back, melting into his hand when it cupped your cheek.

“Welcome home hero,” you chimed softly before kissing him again.

He smiled and kissed your cheek before you released him. Shouto then lowered and laid down between your legs on his stomach, resting his head on your belly and letting his hand rub at the warm and taut skin of it. Your own hands started to run through his hair, fingers gently massaging his scalp and instantly working away the stress of work.

“I missed you two,” Shouto spoke.

You smiled wide. “We missed you Roki. I think he can tell when you’re not home, he’s always so anxious and never still.”

The hero smirked and pressed a kiss to your stomach, listening closely as the baby inside would gently shift every so often, instantly calming down like it could tell Shouto was there. Each time Shouto felt a light kick he smiled more. He was always fascinated when the baby moved or kicked, always so proud. He went with you to every single ultrasound, even if it was just a check up and not really something you needed him for. The man loved to hear his baby’s heartbeat, how strong and healthy it was even considering what you had gone through. The day both of you found out the gender he tried not to be too overjoyed that it was a boy, of course you both could care less what it was but something about having his very own son elated Shouto. Not to mention Enji and Natsuo were pretty hyped as well.

Your hand reached down to cup Shouto’s face, making him look up. With a smile he grabbed the hand and pressed a kiss to your palm then to the ring on your finger.

“How was your day Shouto?”

“It was good. Everyone missed you today as usual, constantly asking how you’ve been and Haru showed up with more baby clothes.”

Rolling your eyes you sighed. “Well they wouldn’t have to miss me if you and your damn father would let me go to work! This whole advance maternity leave is a little unnecessary.”

Shouto looked back down and kissed your stomach. “Your mother doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

A light smack was placed to the side of Shouto’s head making him laugh as his cheek rested back onto your stomach. Your hands resuming their duty of petting and massaging his head. 

Shouto soon pulled out his phone and scrolled through it as he spoke.

“I have to show you what Natsuo sent me today.”

You hummed and look when Shouto gave you the phone. There was a text pulled up that made you cackle. Attached was a picture of Natsuo holding up two baby onesies, one that resembled Enji’s hero costume and the other resembled Shouto’s own hero costume. ‘ Had to get my nephew some official merch! :D,’ the attached text read. Shouto smiled as your laughter seemed to stir his son inside of you. His hand flattened over the skin and felt as he lightly kicked and you let out a small grunt.

“I love her laugh too,” Shouto spoke.

You smiled and let your head lay back against the headboard, eyes fluttering shut as Shouto’s soft hair threaded through your fingers and he continued to lightly rub your belly while continuing to talk to his unborn son.

“I love a lot of things about your mother, like how beautiful, kind and strong she is. How she can brighten any room she walks into or how she can bring people together. I can’t wait to tell you all about her, how I met her and fell so in love with her. I can’t wait to see what traits you take from her; I hope you have her eyes more than anything but either way I know you’ll be beautiful, just as she is.” Shouto sighed and nuzzled his cheek, his lips pressing another kiss to your skin, “Only a few more months and then we’ll be able to finally meet you, our little boy.”

As the two of you rested together for a few more minutes, you were both completely unaware of the cremation villain who dropped by so casually before your home. A hint of a smile on his face as he placed a small envelope inside of the mailbox before walking off and disappearing into the darkness.

#shouto todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #shared walls #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader