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#to a recording she’d recommended we watch that I couldn’t find
art-gelato · 1 year
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posting a snippet of the perc’ahlia tam lin au i’m working on bc i’m excited abt it but idk how long it’s gonna take me to write the whole thing, esp since i’m working concurrently on like 4 fics for these crazy kids. anyway enjoy
...
Percy settled as comfortably as possible on a nearby log and busied himself with sketching. He enjoyed the close observation that revealed all the little details—how the leaves’ edges grew jagged, how thin veins webbed the lighter green undersides. He could not attest to exactly how much time he passed this way, only that the sun was descending from its zenith when he was at last satisfied with his drawing. Mild hunger panged his stomach, and he decided he would eat his sandwich and then head back.
Before closing his sketchbook, he reached for one of the leaves. He could press and preserve it, perhaps start a record of the variety of plants he finds in the area. It would be something to do until his workshop was finished, at least.
“I’d recommend against that, darling.”
Percy snatched his hand back and whipped towards the voice, every nerve in his body alight. He felt himself reflexively reaching for the rapier at his hip, though he was at a poor angle to draw it.
A woman leaned against a tree a few meters away, watching him impassively. Her long dark hair was pulled into a braid and woven with vines, and a pair of fresh green leaves were tucked into the locks behind her right ear. She was dressed somewhat plainly in earth-toned clothes that fit loosely around her for ease of movement.
But Percy’s attention snagged on the bow she held casually in one hand. He couldn’t help thinking about how fast she might be able to draw from the quiver on her back, how good her aim might be.
Diplomacy, as ever, was his first recourse. Still, he kept his thumb on the guard of his rapier, out of her line of sight.
“Indeed?” he asked.
She smiled, though her expression was void of mirth. “Indeed,” she replied. “Unless you’d like a nasty rash, of course.”
His gaze had wandered to her face, but movement snapped it back to the bow. She’d made no motion to raise it, though—the bow itself seemed to have an eerie life, the vines he’d taken for intricate etchings twisting and resettling. Ah, he realized. And now that he was looking for more oddities, he could see fine lines of faint green meandering along her exposed skin, as if she had vines in lieu of veins.
He forced himself to meet her dark eyes. “And it would have nothing to do with stealing from a faerie’s wood?”
Her smile sharpened. “That might have its own consequences, yes.”
Oddly, this eased his nerves. There were rules here—strange, dangerous rules, but rules nonetheless. Full of quicksand as it may be, it was a field he was familiar with. “I hope I’m not trespassing, at the least.”
“Not by my ken,” she said. “Though I hear there’s a new lord at the manor.”
Percy wet his lips. “I have his permission,” he said. “I should like yours, as well.”
Her eyes raked up and down him, considering. There was an edge to her, a hunger, like a void that could never be filled, and it made Percy feel distinctly hunted. It set his heart racing in a way he didn’t entirely mind.
At last, she said, “Well, you do seem to know your manners. Continue to mind them, and I’ll allow it.”
“Is there anything else I ought to mind?” Percy asked.
She tapped her chin in thought, though he had a feeling she already knew. “Stay out of the darkest woods,” she said. “Where even noonday sun struggles to reach through the leaves.”
Ominous. He liked it. “Very reasonable,” he replied. “This is a lovely forest, and I am grateful to have your leave of exploring it.”
She acknowledged this with a hum. “If you’re to be here regularly, we may as well have some proper introduction. What might I call you?”
It wasn’t outright asking for his name, but Percy still knew better than to give it. She was testing him, seeing if he’d let down his guard now that they’d struck an accord. In a fit of daring he was previously unaware he possessed, he answered, “I believe ‘darling’ will do.”
Delight sparked in her expression, cracking through the cool mask she’d worn so far, and she threw her head back and laughed. She kept laughing as she disappeared back into the trees, her light chuckle echoing like the call of a magpie long after she was gone.
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mt-musings · 1 year
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Bluebell
Chapter 23
After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Spencer Reid x OC
Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added
Series Masterlist
Read on AO3
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23. No One Knows
It was dark and all he could smell was the nauseating scent of burned fish livers and woodsmoke, his wrists chaffing in his restraints. He knew his breaths were coming too fast, that the light-headed feeling was from an over abundance of oxygen in his brain, but he couldn’t stop himself from sucking in breath after breath, especially when he knew what happened next, when he knew what it felt like when it all stopped and there was nothing, when he died—
“—Spence? Spencer?”
He shook his head, blinking rapidly before finding Cassie staring at him, a cardboard cup of coffee in each hand. Her brows were furrowed and there was a level of intensity behind her gaze that made him want to shrink back. 
He’d refused to take extra time off after he’d been medically cleared, something Gideon had taken exception with. He’d half expected Cassie to agree with him, to push him to stay home and recover, but she hadn’t, instead just keeping him fixed in her hawk-like gaze. He hated the worry that creased her brow, the vigilance of her watchful eye, as if she knew he’d taken the drugs, as if she was just waiting—
“Spence? You alright? You seem really out of it.”
“I’m fine,” he retorted, too sharp, taking the cup she silently offered. She opened her mouth only to shut it and sighed, dropping into her chair. 
“If you want to talk—“
“I’m fine, Cass. I just—I just didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
“Okay. Just—just checking in. You know you can call me whenever, right? We don’t have to talk about what happened, just—if you want someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.”
Spencer sighed, a bit of guilt settling in his stomach like lead. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She just nodded, eyes lingering on his own before she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. She released it almost immediately and turned to her computer screen, already pulling up files for the newest case. 
He turned to his own pile of files, trying not to think about the way his hand still tingled from her touch. 
---
Cassie stood and grabbed her notebook, glancing across her desk at Spencer before double-checking her list, grabbing an empty file box, and heading toward the records room. He’d been especially short and sharp lately, the shadows under his eyes deepening to the point that they resembled bruises.
She knew he wasn’t sleeping, knew the memories of his torment were haunting them and yet—she couldn’t figure out what to do, how to help him. She’d tried dragging him out to dinner, coffee, the movies—whatever she could do to get him out of the house when they weren’t on a case. And it seemed to work well enough while they were out. He was nearly like his old self, joking and spitting out facts like the Encyclopedia Brittanica. Almost, except for the darkness that clung behind his eyes, the curve that had set into his shoulders.
She wanted, more than anything, to be able to help, but she didn’t know how to even begin. It wasn’t as if she was a model of coping strategies—over-exercising, under-eating, over-working and occasional binge drinking weren’t exactly things she could conscionably go around recommending. 
“Hey Cassie! Ooh, I’m glad I caught you!”
Cassie turned to see Garcia hurrying down the hall in one of her signature colorful outfits, her hair pulled back from her face with several sparkly clips. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw her—Garcia, she was learning, was just that sort of person.
“Yeah, I had to go grab another box of files. This one’s a bit of a doozy.”
“That,” Garcia said, gesturing to the file box in Cassie’s arms, “is the understatement of the century. It’s absolutely horrifying. And speaking of horrifying—“
She placed a file folder on top of the box with a flourish. Cassie just stared at it a moment before turning back to Garcia with wide eyes. 
“You found him?”
“Not exactly. The genealogy avenue was a bust, but I was able to track down a partial match on a cold case in Voron’kiv. I don’t know how much help that is considering the match is to the victim and he’s been dead for over twenty years but I pulled what I could. Ukrainian officials aren’t exactly forthcoming so I had to go through some unconventional channels.”
Sofie set down the box in a rush and flipped open the file.
“You hacked Europol?” She asked incredulously, scanning the documents.
“Not if Hotch asks.”
Cassie looked up at her, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Garcia—I can’t even—thank you, so much. I owe you—“
“Oh yeah you do, and I plan on cashing in,” she said with a laugh. Cassie stared at the file for another moment before giving Garcia a tight hug, glad that she couldn’t see the way her hands were shaking.
“I knew deep down you were a hugger,” Garcia said squeezing her back. Cassie laughed as she took a step back, shaking her head. Her cheeks were tinged pink. 
“I’m not, I just—God, I’m just so grateful. For the lead and the file and for sticking it to Europol. They’re just a nightmare to try and work with.”
“Don’t sweat it. But you better get those files to the team before Hotch has your head for being late.”
She nodded, tucking the file into her backpack before grabbing the box and jogging towards the records room.
---
Spencer looked up as Cassie returned nearly an hour later, dropping her box of files to the desk. She picked up and dialed her phone before she’d so much as sat down. She seemed to almost be vibrating with excitement.
“Did you find everything?”
“Most of it. Some things I think got mis-filed—tak? Mene potribno napravyty do ofitsera, vidpovidal’noho za spravu Kostantyn Lyvychko.”
Spencer looked up, brow furrowed. He’d begun picking up Russian, enough for him to know that Cassie was speaking Ukrainian. He hadn’t thought their case had anything to do with Ukrainian nationals, but then again, maybe it had nothing to do with the case. It wouldn’t be the first time Cassie had been working a cold case or playing translator for one of her old colleagues in CASMIRC. 
He watched has she pinned the phone between her shoulder and ear, scribbling something into her notebook.
“Yeah, ya potrymayu. Dyakuyu.”
She caught his eye across the desk, fighting a smile. 
“Are you okay?” He asked, noting the way her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She nodded, grinning back at him.
“Povna panel’, tak. Tak. Dyakuyu. Do pobachnnya.”
“What was that about?”
“A lead. Maybe. I have to wait, but—maybe something,” she said, unable to hide her smile. She dropped her gaze back to her computer returning to her report. 
He looked back down at his own report, still on the same portion he’d been on before she’d left. He’d hardly written a sentence in the interim, instead just stewing in his thoughts. 
---
He was the first to get up when Hotch dismissed them for the day, pulling on his coat with a flourish before packing his satchel. Cassie glanced up at him, brows furrowed.
“Heading out already?”
“Yeah, I just—uh, just want to get home. There’s a new Doctor Who episode tonight,” he replied lamely, buckling his bag.
“Oh—that’s the one with the Police Box, right?”
He couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips at her earnestness. “Yeah.”
“I could bring by dinner if you wanted a watch buddy. I just have to work out a few more things here first.”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s not a big thing.”
“Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“You know it’s okay not to be okay.”
His expression hardened at her statement, his stomach churning uncomfortably. “I’m fine.”
“Spencer—“
“I gotta go or I’ll miss the 6:05 train.”
“Oh—alright. I’ll text you?”
“Yeah,” he said, turning so he could pretend he didn’t see the way her face fell, just slightly. 
He just wanted to get home so he could drown out all his thoughts before they drowned him. 
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blorbofrommyshows · 3 years
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what the hell what the hell what the hell
#I’m really upset#I missed a live online talk today bc i noted the time down wrong#like it happens. it’s a Saturday for gods sake#but it still should be available online but I haven’t been able to find where#so i emailed the teacher to let her know I’d accidentally#missed it and asked if she knew where I could find the recording#i also linked her to an article that was by the same person and asked if it would be okay if I read that instead of i couldn’t find it#and she replied..#‘I haven't found out where to look up the streams either. Keep trying.#I've given you a lot of help when you compare that to the others in the course.#Basically I have to tell you that your attitude towards work is giving me a lot of extra work.#I will not help anymore in the future.’#(translated from German)#like what the hell??!#that is so so unfair it’s not even funny#i haven’t gotten any ‘extra help’ from her before except asking her to give me a link#to a recording she’d recommended we watch that I couldn’t find#her course is way too difficult so there’s literally only 4 of us left taking it#everyone else has dropped out#she always forces us to watch stuff live on obscure German sites and discuss it#when she knows we don’t really know anything about German theatre#(it’s her job to teach us)#also her language level is way too high. it’s meant to be b2 level and she just full on uses full c2 all the time#I’m gonna like. suck up in reply but honestly fuck her that is so uncalled for#I’m gonna talk to my home uni and see if it would be ok if I dropped the course even though technically I need it#bc like when she starts being like that it impacts negatively on my mental health.#I’m also gonna talk to the German uni and see if it would be possible to raise a concern abt her and her course#also just last lesson she was saying that we’re a really good group and she’s happy with us and whatever etc etc#guess that was? fake.#nem.txt
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messers-moony · 3 years
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So Perfect | J.P
Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader
Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 
The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do. 
Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever. 
When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n. 
Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers. 
There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it. 
The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him. 
“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place. 
She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to. 
“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”
He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly. 
“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?” 
“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”
Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”
“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”
James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl. 
He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“
“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”
James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”
He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore. 
Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that. 
Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile. 
That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow. 
When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair. 
“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”
Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”
James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair. 
As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here. 
He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way. 
“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”
Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”
“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”
“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”
James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“
“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”
“I didn’t pay for these.”
“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading. 
James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms. 
“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”
“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded. 
Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”
Harry smiled, “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together. 
“He quite likes you, I’d say.”
“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”
“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”
Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”
Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.
“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow. 
“Love you too.” 
It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it. 
James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him. 
“She’s not here, you know.”
“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”
Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”
“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door. 
“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”
“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”
Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”
“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?” 
“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.” 
James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money. 
Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t-“
“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”
Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”
“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”
Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully. 
“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom. 
“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”
Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”
“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”
He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great. 
James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something. 
Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips. 
James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”
“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”
A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”
“How’d you find out my name?”
“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”
Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”
“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”
Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly. 
“Consider it a tip.”
“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”
James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”
“Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 
“Maybe go on a date with me?” 
Y/n blushed, “A date?”
“Yeah, a date.” James muttered. 
“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”
She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly. 
She was so perfect. 
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checked-windows · 3 years
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IN SERVICE
Aaron Hotchner x trans male reader
Warnings: references to addiction.
Jack had told his dad about his new friend 'Nero' and kept going on about him and his dad who was also 'so cool'. Aaron Hotchner had listened intently nodding when he felt like it was needed.
A few days later Jack was telling him. About how Nero had knocked him over and he'd scraped his knees. Aaron had been worried at the bandage that was wrapped around his sons knee. It had been Nero's dad who had patched him up and scolded the other boy.
Another week past and Aaron was taking Jack to the park for a team day out to enjoy the sun and a rare day off. They were all sat on a blanket watching the kids run about with a ball when a speeding mass of grey collided with Jack and had him pined to the grass. Aaron was on his feet in seconds panic rising in his chest making him feel sick.
"NERO!" a voice called from the side and a man was hauling the mass off of his son by its collar "Do you ever listen? You okay kiddo?"
"I'm fine Mr (l/n) ! Hello Nero!" Jack answered petting the large dog.
"Nero, apologise to Jack" you ordered and the dog licked Aaron's sons face. Jack was giggling and you finally released the dogs collar, smoothing down the fur "Run away again and your going to live on a farm"
Aaron was standing in mild shock when you turned to him with a sheepish smile.
"I'm so sorry about him. He seems to have taken a liken to Jack" the man said rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's OK. I think I got a fright" Aaron responded "Aaron Hotchner, you must be Nero's dad then"
"That's me! (y/n) (l/n)" you answered and Aaron finally took you in fully. What he had originally thought was a strange shirt turned out to skin, littered with tattoos of all sorts, down your arms and across your stomach and chest. A shirt was tucked into the waistband of grey shorts. But it was two faint scars across your chest that drew Aaron's attention. He quickly snapped his eyes back up to meet yours and a small smile.
The dog was sniffing at Aaron's pants and you huffed a laugh.
"Maybe it's just Hotchner's he likes so much" you pointed out. Aaron reached out to let the dog sniff his hand and stroked over his head softly.
"What breed is he?" Aaron found himself asking.
"Tamaskan" you answered "They are bred specifically to look like wolves but honestly he's just a big softy"
Aaron seemed to remember that he was with the team and froze for a second.
"I'm going to get him home. It's hot out and he's gonna need a nap, you should get back to your team. Tell Jessica I say hi"
"Yeah I will do" Aaron said and you beconed the dog to follow, waving to Jack as he led the Nero away. Aaron turned back to the team who were pretty much leering at him at this point. He huffed at them with a glare that had no real heat behind it. Aaron began taking Jack to the park more to even catch a glimpse of you but fate never seemed to be on his side. A large part of him wished he had given you his card or something to contact him on. The agent eventually just excepted that he would most likely never cross paths again.
Emily Prentiss stepped into the tattoo parlour slowly a familiar dog catching her eye as she moved to the front desk. This would be the eighth shop that she had tried, the rest were either booked up or refused to do the work.
"I'm just going to send you straight through. We should be able to sort you out" the receptionist stated shoving things in her bag. Emily followed her gesture into the main part of the shop, the dog nudged her hip and lead her towards the man sitting on a swivel chair. You hair had been dyed an electric blue but when you looked up she knew your face, even only from a brief view. You breifly recognised her.
"How may I be of help?" you asked with a smile, Nero sided up next to you and you buried a hand into thick fur.
"I want to get a tattoo, over a brand" she said and you nodded. This was the 8th time she'd had this conversation and expected you to shut her down.
"Cool. How big of a brand are we talking?" you asked "And depending on the scarring it will most likely have to be greyscale but I can add a pop of colour if you wish"
Emily's eyes widened a bit and her shoulders slumped with relief.
"Are you OK?" you asked going to reach out but changed your mind before making contact.
"I was expecting you to tell me that it wasn't possible. That's what everyone else has said" she said. Nero rested his head on her thigh, she hummed stroking his head.
"I find tattooists in the area are a bit iffy about tattooing over scar tissue. I am too but I'm sure I can work it out for you" you said "How big are we talking roughly? And where is it?"
"I'll just show you" she said shucking off her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse to show the brand on her chest. You winced slightly before scooting closer and tilting your head to get a better look.
"Do you mind if I touch it?" you asked and got a nod in return. You pulled on a black latex glove, and gently touched the brand, poking at the skin "Is this painful at all?"
"No, I can't feel much there anymore. I think the nerves were burned" she answered and you put a bit more pressure on it to see if she flinched away but she sat still and you nodded.
"Oh I'll be able to tattoo over this easily" you said pulling the glove off and throwing it in the trash "What do you think you'd want to cover it with?"
"I was thinking a bird or something" she answered quietly.
"A bird? I can do that gimme like 30 minutes to draw something up for you and you can tell me what you think." you said spinning the chair away from her to grab a notepad and pencil "Also I'll need your full name and some form of ID to photocopy. For our records"
"Are my credentials OK?" she asked and with you nod pulled them out of her pocket.
"Thank you" you said and peeked in the leather holder "Emily Prentiss"
You moved away to copy her details before coming back and handing it to her.
"I strongly recommend going to get something to eat while I'm getting this sorted for you. I wouldn't want to phone Mr Hotchner to say one of his agents has passed out in my studio" you were smiling and Emily followed the order. Going to the cafe around the corner sending a text to the team group chat.
E PRENTISS: I found out where Hotch's eyecandy works.
P GARCEA: ohhhhh! Where!?
A HOTCHNER: Not my eye candy.
E PRENTISS: Lucifers tattoos. He's dyed his hair blue.
D MORGAN: I was thinking about getting a new tattoo.
P GARCEA: very interesting indeed :)
Emily laughed at her phone and realised her 30 minutes were up and headed back to the studio where Nero met her at the door and lead her back to his human who was finishing wrapping the chair. You looked up and laughed.
"Clearly he likes you, Mr chauffeur" you laughed and the dog bounced away to his bed in the corner.
"He's very well trained" she pointed out sitting down when you patted the padded chair.
"Only when he's wearing his vest. When he's not he knows he can misbehave cause he's not working" you said and sat on the swivel chair again holding something that looked an awful lot like a hospital gown out to her. "Nero is a service dog. He helps me with daily tasks like remembering to eat as well as being out in public spaces. He's also very good as noticing the signs of a relapse"
Emily shot you a look while he was flattening the stencil over the brand on her chest trying to keep your hands as gentle as possible.
"How's that for you?" you asked.
"That's perfect, it covers it amazingly" she said and got a grateful smile in return, you spun around and pulled out a fresh pair of black gloves from the box and started the needle.
"You good? Needing anything before we start?" you asked.
"Yeah and no I'm good" she answered. And you started the tattoo, she could see your chest moving when you breathed and moved hair from your forehead with an arm.
"I can hear the cogs turning in your head. Ask the question that's bugging you" you said keeping your head down
"You were an addict?" it left her mouth with far less tact than what she would have wanted.
"Yep. Nothing too hard but enough that I couldn't function as a 'normal' person, I couldn't hold a job this studio saved me" you said and wiped the ink gently "Nero keeps me functioning and safe"
"Well I'm glad your better now" she said and you smiled.
"Cravings come and go but I'll be fine. Oh if you find yourself talking your team don't mention this to them, Nero likes Jack" you said and laughed. The conversation lulled and the sound of the needle filled the room.
"Do you want to take a break?" you asked and got a nod in return "Can I get you a drink?"
"No, no it's OK" she answered. You removed the gloves and throwing them away before stretching out your legs and grabbing a bottle of something green out of a mini fridge. Nero whined loudly and you laughed.
"I'll be back in 5. He needs to pee" you said tapping you thigh so that the dog followed him. Emily noticed the badges pinned to the dogs vest, each clearly outlining the position of service animal and 'do not touch'. You wandered out a door and were away for close to 10 minutes before coming back you looking at the dog with a scowl.
"I cannot believe you did that. Pissing on a car. You're better than that" you huffed before sitting back on your chair and putting a fresh set of gloves on. "Ready?"
"Yeah. I think so" she answered.
"We can stop here and continue another day" you offered leaning back slightly.
"If I don't finish it today, I never will" she responded and you shrugged before putting the needle back to her skin. An hour and a half past before you were putting the needle down and cleaning her skin gently.
"All done" you said "You wanna see it?"
"Please" she breathed and you pulled a hand mirror off the tray next to you holding it so she could see. "It's beautiful thank you"
You smiled and let her keep looking while you tapped a tablet before handed it to her and she looked at the price.
"$200?" she asked eyes widening. You nodded slowly "Surely it's more than that"
"We have a deal on. Half price for cover ups on hateful or hurtful tattoos. I know the brand isn't a tattoo but I'm sure it's definitely hurtful, especially to the wearer" you said before directing her how to pay. Emily tried not to cry as joy filled her heart. She tapped the tip button and typed in $100, paying and handing the tablet back to him. You didn't notice to begin with until you did and smiled softly at her.
"Thank you" you said and put the tablet down "Try not to put a lot of pressure on it and if you need to put a vest on put some tissue over it in order to keep it happy"
She hugged you gently with another 'Thank you' before leaving the studio.
You were suprised when more FBI agents flooded the studio one after another, sometimes weeks apart. You didn't mind in all honesty, they were all lovely people and learning about them was an interesting endeavour , Derek Morgan had a son but loved his job equally, Jennifer Jaraue wasn't too sure of her own sexuality but had two sons to worry about, Penelope Garcia tried to see the good in everyone and everything but had definitely seen too much in her life, David Rossi (hadn't gotten a tattoo) but had spoken to you for a solid two hours about your' life and how you were doing a nice thing for his team and Spencer Reid had come in to get a constellation over scars on the crook of his elbow and told you the story behind them. You had felt something snap in your heart for the doctor once he had told you about Hankel, Spencer had been forced into addiction, you had not, you had chosen it.
More time past before you bumped into Aaron again, and by bumped we meant Nero had threw himself full force at the FBI agent bowling him over. You knew immediately who it was even before the man's shout of indignation reached your ears and raced after the dog screaming his name.
"Nero! I see you pup" Aaron laughed ruffling the dogs fur. You stopped next to them and hauled the dog off panting for air.
"I swear he just loves you and Jack" you huffed and helped the man to his feet. The man laughed and shook his head.
"I wanted to give you this" he said handing a small card over "It's got my number on it"
"Thank you" you said taking the card and smiling at it before shoving in your pocket. You didn't know if calling him was a good idea but it didn't need to happen because you bumped into him first, full on face into his chest.
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry" you rushed before even noticing who he was, it was the laugh that made it through the panic "Oh Agent Hotchner. Hello. I'm sorry"
"It's alright" he steadied you with a half smile. "However while I have you in front of me I was wondering if you might want to go on a date with me?" Aaron asked "Dinner or drinks or I don't know something"
"Can Nero come?" you asked raising an eyebrow. Aaron laughed and nodded. Nero sniffed the bottom of Aaron's pants again and their hands brushed slightly.
"Listen, I'm not suggesting that we-" Aaron started but you were moving close to him grabbing the lapels of his jacket and hauling your bodies together, leaning up to press your lips together.
"I've been wanting to do that for a while" you said a blush rising up your neck. Aaron cupped your jaw and pulled you towards him bringing lips back together, tattooed fingers gripping his suit jacket.
"So was that a yes?" Aaron asked breathless. You laughed stepping back to pick up Nero's leash.
"Yeah. It is" you answered your other hand coming up to brush your lips.
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tangledstarlight · 3 years
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...i said i was going to make it and well, here we are i guess. im so sorry for this.
Carlos Molina’s to Guide to Ghost Hood (title subject to change) 
welcome to the 1st edition, maybe i’ll make a 2nd if i get inspired enough but also, this is such a mess already i don’t think the world needs a part 2 dfghg
Link to the power point is in the first reblog. (i’d highly recommend watching it for the full experience dfgh)
Link to ao3 also in the first reblog. 
below the cut is the accompanying fic and description of the rules/guide.
The tape recorder lets out a low buzzing sound as Carlos presses a button on the side and stands it up between them on the dining room table. Julie shoots an amused glance at Reggie who’s taken up residence in the chair next to him, the two of them flipping open notebooks and clutching pencils. 
“Where did you even find a tape recorder?” She wonders, stretching out a finger to touch the silver rectangle only for her hand to be swatted away by Reggie.
“Found it in a box of moms stuff and dad said we could order some tapes from amazon,” Carlos replies matter of factly, straightening up in his chair once he seems to have found the page he was looking for. “Right. Let's start off easy, shall we?” 
He looks at her expectantly and Julie rolls her eyes, waving a hand at the two of them, “Lets.” 
“Question one,” Carlos taps his pencil at the top of his page before squinting at her, “Did you conduct any séance related activities before the ghosts showed up?” 
Julie blinks at him, wondering if he’s joking but the pair of them just look back at her, heads both slightly tilted and it’s at that moment that she realises how serious they’re going to be about this. It was going to be a long afternoon of questioning apparently. 
“No, I didn’t conduct any séance related activities. I just put on their CD and they y’know, fell out of the sky.” 
“Interesting, interesting,” Carlos mutters as he looks at Reggie’s notebook as the older boy writes her answer down, underlines something and taps it with his pencil that makes Carlos let out a small hm. “So you don’t know anything about the dark room? Didn’t make any wishes?” 
“No,” Julie shakes her head, watches Reggie write something else down and tilt his notebook to Carlos. It’s weird, watching them communicate like that, like they’ve created a shorthand between them and don’t even require her presence to have a conversation. Which is obviously true because they’ve clearly discussed all this beforehand. 
“You walked through Luke right? What did that feel like to you?” Reggie’s question catches her off guard and she looks between them, but Carlos is already looking at her, waiting for her answer. 
“It was um cold? But also not. I--” she frowns, trying to think back to that first night in the kitchen when she’d turned around and walked through him. Back when she’s barely known any of them and was more annoyed by their presence then comforted. “It was weird. The first few seconds after I walked through him I just felt cold but then it was like a rush of warmth? You know when you get one of those random shivers that runs through your whole body? It feels all weird and tingly but also kinda nice? Like that.” 
“Did it feel like you got a feel of Luke?” Carlos asks and Julie shrugs, a slight blush on her cheeks and somehow, despite the fact they can’t see each other, the two of them share a look. 
“What’s the next question,” anything to move off the topic of walking through Luke and how it felt. 
//
“Oh Julie is gonna be so pissed at you guys,” Alex mutters but makes no move to step in and stop the ‘experiment’ currently going on. He watches as Reggie tries to put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, fingers phasing through the younger boy's jacket with a frown. 
“She won't be pissed if it works,” is all Reggie says, face morphing into one of concentration as he slowly lowers his hand on to Carlos’ shoulder again. 
For his part, Carlos bounces slightly on his toes, eyes fixed on the notebook in Alex’s hand in case they need to tell him something. And okay, Alex might not fully agree with the way the two of them are going about this whole thing, but he can’t say he’s not on board with it. Their whole stint as ghosts has been nothing but confusion after confusion that not even Willie has answers for. Does he think Reggie and Carlos are going to uncover some fundamental thing that makes them the way they are? Probably not. Will they maybe get him some kind of answer? God he hopes so. 
Especially since there’s been small moments in the last few weeks where Ray and Carlos have been able to hear them even without them playing music or Julie nearby. Which had scared all of them. Thought it was nothing compared to Ray’s reaction when he’d apparently walked into the kitchen to find Julie and Luke hugging, only for him to vanish when they suddenly let go. It was a hell of a way to find out they could be seen if they were touching her. 
“Oh!” Carlos suddenly exclaims, head whipping to look at his shoulder where Reggie’s hand is resting solidly on the fabric of the jacket. Alex feels his eyes widen a fraction and watches Reggie’s smile widen as he squeezes slightly on Carlos’ shoulder. “Oh my god! I can feel that!” 
“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, grip on the pencil in his fingers growing. 
“Hey! I heard that too! Quick! Write it down! 30 minutes and- and however many attempts it took!” Carlos grins, face turning towards him and Alex doesn’t even have time to feel guilty about swearing before he’s scribbling in Reggie’s notebook.
//
“Thanks again for taking me,” Carlos says as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and clicks it in, eyes drifting from his tia in the front seat to the little notebook resting on the back seat and the pencil that’s hovering just a few inches off the paper. Subtly he sees it tap on the page, once, twice, and he bites down on his grin, tucking his hands under his thighs to stop from bouncing in his seat. They’re ready. 
“Of course mijo,” Victoria smiles over at him as she turns on the engine, fingers already messing with the buttons on the radio to find her favourite station. “I have to say I’m impressed. Planning ahead for your dad's birthday.” 
“Mhm,” he agrees, his eyes on the notebook that he can just see in the rearview mirror. The pencils resting between the creases in the pages and he holds his breath as the radio jumps to a different station. 
Victoria frowns slightly, her eyes darting from the road to the radio and back, hand reaching out to change it back. When it jumps to another station. And another. Carlos feels his eyes widen a little, legs bouncing on top of his hands as he watches the radio cycle through station after station, only lingers for a few seconds on each before moving on. 
Finally it stops, the words of Despacito ringing through the car and it’s lucky they’re at a red light he thinks, because when Victoria tries to change it it jumps right back. 
“What the f-” she starts, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and the knuckles on her hand that’s still gripping the wheel turning white. 
“Can we leave it? I like this song,” he looks over at her with a smile, blinking in what he hopes is a completely innocent way. He’s pretty sure she’s too distracted by the radio to question it. 
“Sure, sure,” she mutters, not even looking at him, eyes going from the road to the radio. 
The song ends and from the corner of his eye he can see the pencil in the back moving, Reggie or Willie writing something down and he has to stop himself from turning around to see what it is. Instead he watches as tia starts changing the radio station again, her fingers never leaving the touch screen as if that was the problem. But the second she lands on her favourite 80’s classics station and is moving her fingers away it changes. Skipping through stations again until Despacito is once again filling the car. 
It’s probably lucky that they’re at another red light and that there’s no one behind them because her eyes widen and she’s suddenly saying words in Spanish that he knows he shouldn’t know and is pulling over to the side of the road. 
“We have to get out! The car is being possessed! Out, out Carlos! Come on!” Her seat belt is off and her door is open before Carlos even has a chance to process what’s happening. The notebook from the back is pushed in front of his face and he tilts his head a little to side to read Reggie’s familiar handwriting, 
Too far? 
“Maybe,” he whispers back, taking the notebook out of the ghost's hand as he starts to get out of the car, plucking the pencil out of the metal spirals and making a note about not pushing tia in a moving vehicle and to wait until after they’ve gone shopping first. 
She’s got her phone pressed to ear when he joins her on the sidewalk, pacing up and down. Carlos is pretty sure there’s going to be a family dinner story time in their near future. 
//
Luke watches as Carlos sets his tape recorder up, idly plucking out a half finished tune on his guitar in order to be seen and heard. He doesn’t really get the other boys interest in figuring out their ghostly state of being. The same way he doesn’t really care about finding answers to all of Alex’s questions. 
They ate some bad street dogs. They died. Julie brought them back and then she saved them a second time. They can play music and sometimes be seen. He already has all the answers he needs and it’s two words: Julie Molina. 
Would it be nice to know what the black room was? Sure. Did he sometimes wonder why they could be seen but other ghosts couldn't? Sometimes. Did he want answers? Only if someone was going to give them to him without having to do the work. Was he going to sit here and answer all of Carlos’ questions because it was important to him and to the others? Fuck yeah he was. 
“Does that think pick up our voices even if we’re not playing and not near Julie?” He nods at the recorder on the table after Carlos hits a button. 
“Yeah! It’s so cool too. You sound like, all static-y and I have to listen really hard sometimes because your voices fade in and out but they’re there!” 
Okay, Luke can admit that is pretty cool, “That’s wicked. Maybe we should start using that to communicate instead of writing.” He was really sick of people commenting on his handwriting. 
“Dude that’s genius! It would be like leaving each other voice notes!” He gestures in the air with his pencil the same way Julie does when she’s realised the issue with a verse and Luke smiles softly. He doesn’t know what voice notes are, but he’s glad he could contribute to the communication issue. 
“What questions have you got for me then little dude?” He raises an eyebrow at Carlos as he flips through his notebook. 
//
When he’d first knocked Alex down Willie never thought it would lead to him sitting in the Molina’s family living room, a whiteboard resting on his knees as a twelve year old shows him bar graphs and pie charts of information on ghosts. 
There was probably some kind of domino-butterfly effect going on that had led him here. But he’s too busy trying to fit all his know ghost knowledge onto a whiteboard so Carlos can fill in the gaps in his knowledge. 
Over the years Willie has met a lot of lifers, has interacted with a handful at the HGC but he’s never met a family like the Molina’s. Who found out ghosts were real and instead of running, or trying to profit off of them, had just...welcomed them into the family. Arms wide and hearts open. 
And more than that, here was Carlos trying to get answers to questions that none of them really had an answer too. 
“Black room, yes or no?” Carlos asks, holding up a flash card and a clothes peg, ready to add it to the line of string stretching across the room. It was already littered with other cards in an order that Willie really didn’t understand but seemed to make perfect sense to the younger boy and Reggie. 
Not for me, or anyone I asked at the club, he scribbles down, turning to the board around. 
“Just like we thought,” he nods to himself, taking two steps to the left and reaching up to attach the card, “An anomaly.” he whispers it to himself and Willie has to bite his lip to stop from smiling before remembering that Carlos can’t actually see him. 
“Hey,” Alex’s voice from the doorway drags his gaze away from the lifer and the smile he’d been trying to stop spreads across his face, “How’s it going?”
“I don’t think we’re even half way through,” he chuckles, gesturing with one hand at the stack of flashcards and the charts he hasn’t even seen yet. “Do you understand this system?” 
The exasperated laugh that leaves Alex’s lips is answer enough before he’s even shaking his head, strands of blonde hair dipping into his eyes and Willie wants to reach to move away, “Not a clue. They’ve tried to explain it to us but it makes zero sense to anyone but them.”  
“Hey, Alex, stop distracting him, we’re working here!” Carlos’ voice makes him jump, head turning back to where he’s standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disappointment in the vague direction of where Alex is standing. 
“Wait, can he see you?” Willie frowns, mind trying to remember if he knew this or not. 
“No, he’s just really good at sensing us these days,” Alex sighs, but there’s a fond look in his eyes as he looks at Carlos, “He says it’s his ghost powers kicking in from how often he hangs out with Reggie and from all the failed teleportation experiments.” 
“The failed what now?” 
“Oh, you’ll find out. I think it’s section 7?” Alex grins, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the doorway and waving.
Willie turns back to Carlos feeling a little more confused than he had minutes ago but also much more intrigued about teleportation experiments. And if he could help get some answers for any of the many questions Alex had, that was cool too.
//
Carlos Molina’s Guide to Ghosting. So you became a ghost, huh?
 (working title, subject to change)
By Carlos Molina, with special thanks to Reggie Peters and Willie Skateboard. 
1st Edition. 
Dedicated to Alex Mercer, so he can stop asking so many questions. We’re working on it buddy.
1. Tangibility 
They can walk through anything (except my sister now, reasons still unclear). 
Works especially well with walls, doors and locked vaults (see exhibit a) 
When they walk through people it “allows them to get a feel for the person” – Reggie Peters. “It’s weird” – Alex Mercer. No comment from Luke Patterson as he was too busy staring at Julie. 
2. Souls
Objects can be attached to their souls. 
Still unclear if it has to be an object that they were close to in life, or if they can attach their souls to any object once a ghost. 
Experiments with Reggie Peters are still ongoing. Updates will follow.
3. Being Seen
Can be seen by “lifers*” when they play music with Julie. 
This is the first rule which only applies to our ghosts. 
They can be heard when they play music without Julie. This is also unclear as to why, working theory is “Our music is just so awesome it transcends deaths!” – Luke Patterson.
Mr Willie Skateboard was quick to point out it’s “weird” and “ghosts aren’t supposed to be seen by lifers.”
4. Touching
Our ghosts can now touch Julie. The biggest change in their afterlife. 
Still no explanation for it. Experiments are ongoing (see exhibit b) 
Have witnessed Julie hugging the air many times only for Alex or Willie to appear. Same with hand holding. (see exhibit c for dads reaction) 
5. Magic
Some ghosts have powers and abilities. 
Willie* can control different types of technology. Appears to work best with cars. This we believe correlates with who a ghost dies. 
In our expedition to test his skills he skipped through 15 different radio stations of Tia’s car until he found one playing despacito. Test was a success. Tia does think her car is haunted now however.
6. ???
There was a dark room. 
All other ghosts interviewed had never heard of it before. 
All our ghosts agreed it was weird and creepy. 
We are choosing to pretend it didn’t happen. 
Working theory: a hole in time that they fell through. Must find a way to test.
7. Teleporting
part 1)
Ghosts can teleport wherever they want in the world. 
Only the most powerful can teleport a lifer with them (will keep attempting)
part b) 
Our ghosts can pinpoint Julie’s exact location wherever she may be in the world. 
Will be helpful if she is ever kidnapped, Julie however wishes they would stop using said power to find her in gym class.
“I already have find my friend activated” – Flynn had to say on the matter. 
part c) 
Julie can summon the boys to her if she concentrates hard enough. Came in handy when an evil magician tried to kidnap them.
Also possibly how they escaped the dark room, no way to prove or deny this as dad won’t let me eat a bad hotdog to become a ghost.
Working theory: magic of music and family 
See Exhibit d 
See Exhibit e  
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romeo must die
this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"
content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles
Masterlist | Read on AO3
"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.
"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.
"Surely you could spare a few moments."
"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.
"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.
“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”
He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”
Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”
“Must you act so childish?”
He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”
“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”
Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”
“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”
“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”
“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”
“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”
Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”
There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”
Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”
He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.
“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”
Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.
Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.
“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.
“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”
Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”
“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”
“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”
“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”
“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”
“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”
“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”
“I can’t go back in there, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”
Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”
Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”
“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”
“Excuse me?”
“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”
Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”
“I tried.”
“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
He shook his head.
“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.
“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.
Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd
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attllhak · 3 years
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Surface Too Soon .2
@tortilla-of-courage and also @emenerd because apparently this story is getting a proper tag list now!
So, here’s chapter 2, featuring Zelda and Fi. I’m actually pretty happy with how I managed to write Fi here. I was worried I’d have trouble with her considering how different of a character she is from any other character I’ve written before.
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Chapter 2: Chasing Fi
There was something familiar about this woman, though Zelda didn’t know what or why.
“You are not Master Link,” the woman said, meeting Zelda’s eyes, voice gentle but robotic.
“Link, he’s alive?” She asked.
The woman ignored her, looking back around the walls. “I do not sense my master here. Proceeding to search elsewhere.”
“Hey, wait!” Zelda shouted, running after the woman as she floated away. “Wait, come back! Why are you looking for Link?”
The woman ignored her, floating out through the door of the academy. Zelda nearly ran into the door, grabbing at the handles and yanking it open, running out into clear, cool night.
She scanned the area, spotting the woman floating off a ways away.
Zelda jumped from the roof, landing in a roll and keeping up her chase.
“Hey! Wait!” She shouted, finding it hard to keep pace. “Why are you looking for Link?!”
The woman disappeared into the bazaar, and Zelda ducked under the heavy fabric to follow, mentally apologizing for breaking the rules about it being closed.
The woman paused, floating in the center of the dark building. Zelda had to squint to see her in the darkness.
“Hey!” She called, and the woman finally turned to look at her.
The woman just floated there, watching her in the darkness.
“Why are you looking for Link?” Zelda asked. “What do you need from him?”
She floated there for longer, and Zelda was about to speak again when the woman finally broke the silence.
“Apologies, Your Grace, but it is not my role to speak with you. My role is to seek out your chosen hero and assist him in his role,” she said, voice devoid of emotion, and confusing Zelda a lot. Her chosen hero? “Your presence confuses me,”
“What?” Zelda asked.
“My master is not here,” the woman said instead. “Proceeding to search elsewhere,”
“Wha- hey!” Zelda gasped, nearly tripping on a stall, and most certainly bruising her hip, trying to follow as the woman started moving again. “What does any of that mean?!”
She ducked under the fabric, desperately trying not to lose this weird blue woman. Your Grace? Chosen hero? What was she talking about?
“Stop running away from me!” Zelda shouted, only able to keep up since the woman stopped to stare at every door they passed for a few moments before moving on. “I’m trying to talk to you!”
The woman never hesitated, nor turned to look despite Zelda’s repeated shouting. It was like she couldn’t even hear her, which Zelda knew for a fact was untrue.
“I know what happened to Link!” She finally tried as the woman passed over the plaza.
The woman stopped at that, finally, turning to look at her and giving her a chance to catch her breath.
“You have information pertaining to the location of my master?” The woman asked.
“Yes,” Zelda gasped, leaning her weight on her knees. This woman was fast! “Yes, I know why you can’t find him,”
“I must ask you to provide me with this information so that I may locate him,” the woman said, staring at Zelda with her expressionless face, even the eyes looking like it was part of a smooth blue mask. “It is essentially that I meet with him as soon as possible,”
“I want some answers first,” Zelda huffed, straightening up and planting her hands on her hips. “And don’t think you can find Link without my help, because you won’t,”
The woman watched her, tilting her head slightly for a long moment.
“My analysis concludes that there is an 87% chance of you being correct about needing your help. Very well, I will answer a few questions in exchange for information on the whereabouts of my master,” the woman said, floating up in front of Zelda, who stumbled back a step. “My records indicate that your culture demands I perform an introduction at this point. My designation is ‘Fi’. You may begin asking questions now.”
“Why are you looking for Link?” Zelda asked immediately. “And what’s this about him being your master? And the whole thing with the ‘chosen hero’ deal. And why were you calling me Grace?”
“I am searching for Link because he is my master, and as destiny has begun to unfold my directives demand that I seek him out,” the woman, Fi, said simply. “He has been chosen as my master since a time long before your people have recorded memory. He has been chosen for a very important role in the future of your people, and those on the Surface. I call you Your Grace because that is your respectful designation, and I do not know your mortal name,”
Zelda frowned. Destiny? The future? Her designation? And, wait…
There was something below the clouds! If Link survived his fall, then he was down there, on the Surface! Oh, she had so many questions for when he got back!
In the meantime however…
“What’s this about destiny?” Zelda asked. “And, there’s land below the clouds? What does Link have to do with any of it?  Oh, and, um, my name is Zelda,”
“Your Grace, Zelda.” Fi said. “Your preferred designation has been noted. I am not permitted to speak on your destiny, as it is not my role to help you fulfil it, nor am I permitted to speak on the nature of my master’s destiny with you. Yes, there exists a land your people call ‘The Surface’ below the cloud barrier. Your Link has been chosen to play an important role, and it is imperative that I find him quickly,”
“That is not very helpful,” Zelda frowned.
“I have answered your questions,” Fi said. “Should you have no more, I would request that you fulfil our agreement and provide me with the information you have on the location of my master,”
“Ah, right, about that,” Zelda bit her lip, looking away. “He’s, not on Skyloft,”
“I am not sure I follow, Your Grace, Zelda,”
“It’s, it’s my fault really, it’s all my fault,” she admitted, feeling about ready to burst into tears all over again, once again exhausted by the weight of her guilt and all the crying she’d already done. “I didn’t listen to him when he said he couldn’t sense his loftwing and I, I pushed him over the edge. I didn’t realize that something was wrong until it was too late and, and he’s gone now, and it’s all my fault!”
She reached up to wipe at her face, feeling somewhat embarrassed for crying in front of this strange woman but unable to stop herself.
Muffled sobs tapered off in confusion as she felt what might have been fabric woven of metal settle around her shoulders. She looked up in confusion to see Fi looking down at her with what might have been concern or sympathy.
“What are you doing?” Zelda asked through tears.
“My records indicate that this motion is used commonly among your people as an act of comfort,” Fi said. “Your distress led me to believe this would be a soothing action to take,”
Zelda nodded, sniffling. “I’m not sure anything you do or say could help, but thank you for trying,”
“My analysis concludes that this information may alter your emotional state,” Fi said, and Zelda looked up in confusion. “My master, your Link, is alive.”
Zelda froze, looking up at Fi in confusion and shock.
“How do you know that?” Zelda asked, voice shaking.
“I am somewhat connected to my master,” Fi informed her. “I also have the ability to sense and locate certain individuals, called dowsing. My dowsing would not work if he was not alive, and it does. Therefore, he is alive.”
Zelda felt like collapsing all over again. There was so much to take in there.
Link was alive. She hadn’t killed him. He was alive and on the Surface.
He must be terrified! Alone down there, no idea where he is or how to get home. He must be so scared. Not to mention hurt! It was such a long fall, even though he survived, who knew how injured he was? He could be curled up on the Surface somewhere, injured and unable to move, vulnerable to all sorts of dangers.
The relief and worry and fear that replaced the guilt was crippling, and she dropped to her knees, clutching at her hair. She didn’t even realize she was struggling to breathe until Fi told her.
“Your Grace, Zelda, your breathing has become irregular, and I can sense you are in emotional distress. I would recommend you attempt to regulate your breathing to ease your distress,” Fi said. “I am willing to provide you with a grounding point to match your breathing to if you must,”
Zelda nodded, and Fi gently began moving one of her ‘arms’ in a gentle motion. Up, in. Down, out.
Eventually she calmed down, moving her hands to fist in her dress, knuckles still white from how hard she was holding the fabric.
“I conclude that you have returned to a stable emotional state,” Fi said simply. “If my master, your Link, is on the surface, this provides a difficult problem in my location of him,”
“Take me with you!” Zelda said abruptly.
Fi paused to look at her. Zelda imagined she would have been blinking if she had eyelids to do so with.
“Take me to the Surface with you,” Zelda explained, a bit of desperation seeping into her voice. “Let me help you find Link. If you can find a way down there safely, then I’ll help you find Link. Please,”
Fi looked at her for a long moment, then floated up. “I do require a wielder to make it to the Surface. Very well, I accept your offer of assistance. Please follow me so that we may open a path to the Surface.”
Zelda had no idea what Fi meant by wielder, but stood to follow the strange woman regardless. If she could help Zelda find Link, then she’d follow her anywhere.
Fi led her to the statue of the goddess, and then into a small room under the statue that Zelda swore wasn’t there before.
Fi, it turns out, was a sword. Which, explained a lot, actually.
It didn’t explain the sense of deja vu she got when she pulled the blade.
Her father arrived as she swung the sword and activated the little thing that lifted the frame for the tablet that Fi produced.
Fi and her father went back and forth a bit about some prophecy, but Zelda was more focused on putting the tablet in the frame, and then putting the sword in a sheath on her hip.
“Your Grace, Zelda,” Fi said as she finally tuned in. “I can confirm that a beam of light has created a small rift in the cloud barrier separating your world from the one below. Using this rift, we will be able to travel to the place you call ‘The Surface’ and begin our search for my master, your Link,”
“What?” Zelda’s father gaped a bit.
“Fi is taking me to the Surface,” Zelda told him firmly. “Link is down there, and we’re going to find him. Don’t try to stop us.”
“Well, you aren’t going now,” he said. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to pause her angry argument. “Zelda, it is nearly dawn, and I know you have not slept yet. At least take some time to prepare before you go. I know I cannot stop you, but if you at least promise to sleep first, I can find you a better outfit to wear than your current one. It’s not exactly suitable for a trip to the Surface,”
Zelda looked down, still in her outfit for the Wing Ceremony that had been cancelled.
“I’m taking the sailcloth,” she said, and when her father nodded she eventually agreed to sleep before she left.
Fi vanished into the sword, and Zelda followed her father back down to the Academy.
The green light breaking through the clouds called to her. Link was down there. He was down there, alone, and he needed her.
Just a few hours, Link, she thought, setting Fi’s blade down on her desk, eyes still drawn to her window and the light breaking through the clouds. Just a few hours to appease my father, and then I’m coming to get you. I swear it,
She only realized exactly how tired she was when she passed out the moment her head hit the pillow.
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magireco · 3 years
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Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)
1. Thank you!!!!!!
2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!! 
3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to
First: Homura Akemi
okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs
Summary
first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc... 
clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka... 
this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?
anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.
i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...
i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.
anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation. 
after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...
then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.
also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about
Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy
homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them. 
homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...
In Defense Of My Own Claims
btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.
TL;DR:
homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!
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tsuki-chibi · 3 years
Text
Adrien AUG-reste Day 27 - Photographs
This story is part 5 of a series: a sequel to my Marinette March, Adrinette April, Marichat May, Ladrien June, and Ladynoir July stories; I highly recommend reading those first.
You can also read this story on AO3: Petrichor
---
It took a long time to tell the whole story.
Sometimes when Adrien stopped to think about it, he couldn’t believe just how much had happened in such a short span of time. It seemed like it had been weeks since he’d been woken up out of a sound sleep by Hawkmoth stealing his miraculous, but the slowly healing cut on his lip said otherwise.
For the most part, he sat back and allowed Marinette to tell the story. The only time that he really had to chip in was to explain what had happened when he’d gone to his own alternate universe, since Marinette hadn’t been with him. But aside from that, he was able to eat junk food and watch as Alya, Nino, and the kwamis alternately reacted with shock, horror, and relief.
“Dude! I can’t believe this!” Nino burst out when Marinette had finished. “Seriously? I can’t believe you’re both still in one piece after all that.”
“We just did what we had to do,” Marinette said. Her voice was a little croaky now after all the talking she’d done. She reached out and grabbed a fresh can of cola, popping it open.
“You actually did very well, Marinette. Time travel isn’t easy, never mind alternate universe travel,” Fluff piped up.
Tikki nodded. “It’s dangerous. I would have advised against it had I been here, but I guess it worked out for the best after all.”
“So what are you going to do now?” Alya asked. She was looking right at Adrien, he realized. One by one, all of them turned to look at him. Even Marinette.
“I’m going to talk to my aunt about staying here in Paris,” Adrien said. “Marinette’s parents said I can stay here with them.”
“Of course you can,” Marinette said immediately, and he smiled at her.
“What about your dad’s company?” Nino asked.
Adrien shrugged. “I dunno. Nathalie was really the one who kept it running. My dad might have done the designs, but she was the one who did all the behind the scenes stuff. Without the two of them, there really isn’t a company.”
“That sucks,” Alya said, frowning.
“I don’t really care. It’s not like I’m a designer,” Adrien said. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, actually. But what he did know was that it was out of his hands. It was possible that the company would fold, or maybe it would be bought out by a competitor or by another would-be designer. Either way, Adrien wasn’t even sure if he’d see any of the proceeds if the courts decided that his father needed to pay reparations to the city of Paris.
Marinette reached over and patted his arm wordlessly. The comfort was nice, and Adrien smiled at her. He missed the knowing looks that Alya and Nino and many of the kwamis exchanged.
Sometime after that, Adrien looked away from the television screen to find that almost everyone else was asleep. Alya was the only other person awake, and she was staring at her phone screen with furrowed eyebrows. Marinette was sleeping with her head resting against Nino’s knee. There were several kwamis draped all over her, most of them in food comas no doubt.
“You’re not tired?” he asked Alya.
“I had to finish something up for the Ladyblog. I got so many questions about Hawkmoth that I decided to do a little follow-up article. I wanted to get it written tonight so that you can look it over tomorrow before I post it,” Alya said.
“Thanks,” Adrien said. “I appreciate that.”
She shot him a quick smile. “No problem, Sunshine. And just for the record, the only photographs I’m attaching to the article are ones that have been circulated by the media. But if you’d rather I kept them off, just let me know.”
“It’s fine. You can leave them in,” Adrien told her. Whatever pictures the media had, it couldn’t be of anything too scandalous. So he didn’t care that much.
Besides, if it was a photograph of his father or Nathalie, then they deserved it.
“Good. Draft saved.” Alya locked her phone and looked up, seemingly noticing for the first time that everyone else had passed out. She shook her head and smiled.
“Can you help me?” Adrien said, standing up. He started picking up kwamis and hiding them away. It wouldn’t do for Marinette’s parents to wake up and see them all. Alya started helping him. They ended up tucking most of the kwamis into Alya’s bag.
Then Adrien sat down on the couch and leaned back. He had every intention of talking to Alya some more, maybe even asking her about Marinette, but he passed out before he had the chance.
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spookyceph · 3 years
Text
Pull Test
Summary: Shigaraki and Kurogiri meet with the League of Villain's newest candidate.
Rating: Gen Fic, SFW
Relationships: Shigaraki & Magne
Characters: Shigaraki Tomura, Magne, Kurogiri, Giran, mentioned Dabi, mentioned Toga Himiko
Words: 2,732
Warnings: Implied/Referenced transphobia and deadnaming when Magne's background is mentioned, swearing
The manila folder dropped from the air like a dead bird, hitting the bar top with a slap. Tomura jerked back, stool wobbling beneath him, and grit his teeth as he heard the staccato sounds of his fighter taking damage in his game. Recovering balance, he hit the pause button before glaring at the warp gate that swirled into being across the way.
“Another one already?” he snapped the moment the tall figure of his caretaker stepped out of the darkness.
Kurogiri straightened both his tie and metal gorget. “I was quite impressed myself. Giran is proving to be as professional and efficient as advertised.” He motioned to the folder he’d air dropped in. “Shall we consider this new candidate together, Shigaraki Tomura?”
Tomura wasn’t in the mood to consider shit. He hadn’t been hanging around the bar for going on two hours hoping for work to come along. One of his hands strayed to his pocket. He touched the lump that was the jar of salve he’d taken to carrying at all times. The serpentine ridge of a friendship bracelet (I used red, white, and black string so it would match you, Tomura-kun!) had joined it a week ago. Of course, he’d die before admitting to lurking just to catch a glimpse of Dabi. Or that he’d agreed to let Toga show him her favorite otome games as soon as she came back from her shopping trip. He definitelycouldn’t tell the smug old ink splatter to fuck off and let him get back to his goal of a high score—not without having how wrong he’d been about those same two people rubbed in his face.
That left being a responsible leader as the only option.
Tomura growled and set his game aside. He flicked the folder open. “Fine. What’s this new asshole’s name?” Giving in didn’t require him to be gracious about it.
“Ah. About that. I believe there’s a conflicting issue in her files about that point. Her family name is Hikiishi, however, her given one, or both, may require an update.”
A look at the top of the file filled in the blanks. The picture Giran had included showed the candidate flashing a bold smile at the camera. Shoulder-length auburn hair framed prominent cheekbones. Slightly darker fuzz lined her jaw and chin. Tomura couldn’t tell what color her eyes were behind her sunglasses, but they locked with his through lenses and stock paper alike. Hikiishi Kenji, read the first line of information on the page beneath the photo. A police report, by the looks of it.
“I see. Well, for now let’s just call Hikiishi by her alias until she confirms with us.” Tomura skimmed through the info again. “Magne, right? Related to her quirk, I assume.”
The currents of Kurogiri’s mist slowed and relaxed into looser coils. “Correct.”
Tomura frowned. “What? Did you think I’d have some sort of problem with the name thing?”
“After the misunderstanding with Dabi—”
“Dabi and I talked.”
The yellow eyes glowing within the darkness widened. “Did you now?”
Fuck, he wasn’t turning red, was he? Was he? “We’re adults. We worked shit out, okay? Not everybody has a stick up their ass about being polite all the time.” He scooped up his game, more than ready to retreat into something he could control. “When are we expecting Magne?”
“Giran can bring her by tomorrow evening.”
“Fine. Let’s get the stupid meet and greet crap over with.” When only silence followed, Tomura raised his gaze from the screen to glare at Kurogiri. “What?”
The wisps curling from the smoggy bastard’s head looked suspiciously like smiles. “Nothing, Shigaraki Tomura. Nothing at all.”
-
Taptaptap.
Tomura’s finger rose and fell on the bartop fast enough to give a sewing machine needle a run for its money. The ball of his right foot bounced on the stool’s crossbar in time with it.
Taptaptap.
Giran had promised he’d be there between 9:00 and 10:00. The clock by the door pointed to 9:51.
Taptaptap.
Lots of people would be riding the trains on a Friday night. Or roaming the streets, looking for food and alcohol, karaoke, strangers to stave off loneliness. Heroes would be out in force as a result, watching for any predators stalking the herds of humanity. Tomura didn’t know how to calculate exact probability rates for shit hitting the fan, but he got the sense they were on the higher end under such conditions.
Taptaptap.
Why couldn’t he just run into party members along the way as needed, like in games? Each one would specialize in a skill, forming a well-rounded team. Everyone would follow him to the bitter end because they believed in him and not some ass goblin named Stain. Why they believed in Tomura wouldn’t matter, though money would be a reasonable guess. Idealism didn’t pay much from what he could tell.
Taptap—
“Be calm, Shigaraki Tomura. This meeting will go well.”
He bared teeth at Kurogiri. “There has to be a meeting for it to go a certain way. And I am calm, damn it.”
“So I see.” He finished wiping down the glass he held before setting it on the bar and grabbing another. “My apologies.”
Tomura twisted on the stool to give the smart ass shadow a piece of his overthinking mind.
Knock, knock, knock.
Without missing a beat, Kurogiri stuck his free hand through a small warp gate and turned the handle of the door across the room. He went back to polishing as two figures entered the bar.
For someone who charged such high fees, Giran went out of his way to look cheap and kitschy. Little round tinted lenses pinched to the bridge of his nose. A scrunched scarf like someone’s guts slung around his neck. One front tooth missing in his low-key sleazy smile. The woman following right behind him and surveying her new surroundings made for a more welcome sight. Sunglasses (her and Giran both, for fucks’ sake) hid her eyes just like in her picture, but her lips held a hint of a smile.
The essence of good manners, Kurogiri bowed to their guests. “Good evening. Welcome to our humble home.”
Tomura, to balance the scales, snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Took you long enough.”
Giran shrugged and twirled his hand, leaving behind a smoke spiral from the tip of the cigarette between his fingers. “Our train was delayed by some prankster threatening to blow up the tracks.”
“Doesn’t sound like a prank.”
“It wouldn’t have been if the lazy bastard hadn’t been trying to pass off children’s clay as plastic explosive. One of the cops noticed the stuff was bright yellow and they rushed him. They didn’t even call in a hero.” The broker shook his head. “What’s this world coming to? People can’t be bothered to find and pay for real weapons anymore. It offends my pride as a businessman.”
Behind Father, Tomura grimaced. His short-lived venture with Stain had indeed moved people to lash out at society. The problem was most of them were fucking morons. He doubted any decent candidates the League managed to net would make up for all the secondhand embarrassment he’d suffered in the past couple of weeks from watching the news.
“Oh, I don’t know,” the woman said, tapping her chin. “I felt kinda bad for the poor guy. He looked like your average office wage-slave. I thought he was going to break down in tears when they hauled him off.”
“Serves him right for cutting corners. No conviction, no integrity these days I tell you.”
She hid a grin behind her hand. “You’re heartless, Giran.”
The broker snorted smoke from his nostrils like an exasperated dragon. “I’m practical.”
“And yet you still haven’t introduced me.”
Posture straightening, Giran tugged at his weirdly anatomical scarf. “Sorry, got sidetracked. Magne, Shigaraki Tomura and Kurogiri of the League of Villains.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Slipping off his stool, Tomura gave her a short bow. The way Kurogiri swayed slightly, as if he’d swoon from shock, made the display worth it.
“I take it I’ve earned my fee?” chimed in Giran.
Kurogiri’s misty form shuddered as he roused himself. “Of course. We’ll hear from you again soon?”
“I’ve got a few candidates lined up.” The broker sketched them a mock salute before turning and closing the door behind him.
“Please, have a seat.” Tomura motioned to the row of barstools beside him.
“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.”
While Magne approached, he studied her movements. She strode across the hardwood floor, work boots making minimal noise with each step. Grace as well as power. She knew how to use the muscle under her shirt’s rolled up sleeves rather than relying on pure size. Although, that didn’t hurt either—Tomura put her at over ten centimeters his own height at least, and she definitely outclassed him by weight. He wondered whether she had speed to go along with strength. She slid into the next seat over and rested her chin in her hands.
“Would you care for something to drink, Miss Magne?” Kurogiri asked, jumping at the chance to play host.
“Oh, my. So formal. Sure, I’ll have whatever you recommend.”
Tomura waited until a small glass of something amber-colored had been set in front of them both (ginger ale for him) and she’d taken an approving sip before getting things rolling.
“You have quite a record, Magne.” Though he’d already memorized the relevant bits, he flipped open the folder container her information.
She glanced over, shades slipping down her nose as she scanned the first page of the police report. “Twenty-nine attempted murders, huh? Is that what they’re calling those? I’m surprised you guys bothered having me come in after reading that garbage.”
“Why?”
Like a small bird, Tomura’s stomach dipped and fluttered when Magne looked at him over the edge of her glasses. Not quite in the same way it did when he caught Dabi watching him from across the room, but close enough to classify the sensation as pleasant. Her irises shone like polished agates, made up of rich layers of browns from a starburst of mahogany around her pupils to flecks of burnished copper. Tomura suddenly understood her hiding them behind lenses. Such a beautiful detail would stick in anyone’s memory.
“Somebody who tried and failed to kill that many people would look pretty incompetent, right?” she replied. “Or like they chickened out at the last second. I don’t enjoy killing. I’ll tell you that up front. But…I didn’t hesitate with the three I did put down, let’s just say that.”
Tomura, a multiple murderer himself, examined the square set of her shoulders, the twist of scorn to her mouth towards her accusers, and found no reason to doubt her. He nodded.
“The so-called attempts were from the robberies you pulled off then?”
“Mostly, though I’m sure a few of the bullies I smacked around exaggerated just to prove what big, strong men they are.” She harumphed and took another sip from her drink.
“And the actual murders?”
Her lips puckered, as if she tasted something more bitter than whatever alcohol Kurogiri had given her. “Personal matters.”
“I see.” Tomura turned the page and ran his finger further down the information. “Your quirk has some unique parameters.”
The lines of Magne’s face eased into a smile. “Oh, the gender thing? A theory really. I haven’t had much opportunity to test it seriously. It might be nothing but my own perception…but I guess that doesn’t make it any less real, does it?” She lifted a hand from her glass and reached halfway toward him. “Care for a demonstration?”
Tomura caught himself drawing away from her, his nails latching onto the sides of his neck. Cowering—great way to display his leadership skills. “What’re you going to do?”
“Oh, just tug on your arm a little. Go ahead and put it down by your side for me.”
Resisting the urge to look to Kurogiri for reassurance, he did as asked. For safety’s sake he curled his fingers into a fist.
Magne smiled. “Ready?”
According to the knot in his stomach, no, but he nodded anyway. His arm jerked and leapt up as if it were tied by a string. Tomura gasped, almost slipping off his seat. Magne caught and steadied him.
“Sorry, honey! Got so excited to show off I put a bit too much oomph into it.” She patted his shoulder as if there weren’t dead, gray hands clutching it.
“’S’alright,” he mumbled. And it was—his skin showed no marks, his muscles and joints registered no pain. He readjusted the delicate hand decorating his wrist. Cold, waxy, and pliant. Nothing like Magne.
“So, can you manipulate people’s movements? Turn them into your puppets?”
She hummed and pushed her sunglasses back into their proper place. “Not really. I can move someone with the proper amount of push versus pull, but it’s such delicate work that they could break free pretty easily. Hold out your arm and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Still making a fist, Tomura followed her suggestion. Magne positioned her hands on either side of his forearm, spread about half a meter apart. Concentration dug a V between her brows. A thrum jolted through Tomura’s bones. He startled at the rush of tingles in his elbow and shoulder but kept his balance. Something like a low electrical current pulsed along his arm, raising its pale little hairs. Eyes wide, he watched as the limb drifted from one side to the other, then up, down—anywhere the poles of Magne’s palms guided it. He could even see, feel his skin being tugged and pressed by her quirk. Taking a deep breath, Tomura drew his fist back. He met some resistance, but didn’t have to put up any real struggle.
“Weird.” He shook his buzzing fingers out. “But kinda nice. Tingly. Like an electrical field.”
Magne tilted her head and smirked. “Oh? That’s a new one. Then again, maybe I’d have heard it before if I used my quirk for something besides bashing jerks.”
What would he have done without Father hiding the fact he blushed at the slightest fucking thing? He’d never get used to talking to people at this rate.
“Your skills would be a great asset to the League, Miss Magne,” Kurogiri said, saving Tomura from having to pretend he could be witty. “I presume Giran discussed the expenses we cover? Upon joining, you would also be welcome to claim a room upstairs, should you wish.”
Magne went still. Even her breathing stopped for a moment. “You’d let me stay here?”
Tomura knew right then he’d never live down being wrong about not letting League members move into the hideout. Kurogiri would never be crass enough to say it out loud, of course. He didn’t have to. Tomura sighed, accepting his fate.
“Two members live here already, including another woman. We can introduce you to them both before you decide.”
Gaze aimed at the ceiling, Magne touched fingers to her pursed lips. “I’ve already made up my mind.” She met Tomura’s eyes, a smile lighting up her face. “Sign me up.”
Well. He had no clue whatso-fucking-ever how they’d convinced her, but results were results. Besides, she hadn’t mentioned Stain once. She deserved free room and board for that alone.
“Ah, wonderful. We’re so delighted to have you, Miss Magne.” Kurogiri steepled his fingers. “Please let me know if you require any assistance in moving your belongings. I can warp them to whichever room you choose.”
A soft laugh huffed out of her. “No need, honey. I travel light these days. Would tomorrow evening be too soon?”
Tomura shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure Toga and Dabi are around so you can meet them.” Even if he had to staple the latter to a chair to make him comply.
“Sounds like a plan.” Magne raised her glass. “To new friends then?”
There was that word again. Offered with the same ease Toga had shown. And Dabi…he’d never said it maybe but his gift had implied…well, something. Tomura touched his pocket. The weight and shapes of the items inside it. With the same hand, he picked up his own glass and clinked it against Magne’s.
“Sure. I’ll drink to that.”
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geewithluv · 3 years
Text
Down The Hall
Tumblr media
Pairing: Reader x Kim Taehyung
Word Count: 1.5k
Warning: stalker!Taehyung
Summary: Something's up with her neighbor down the hall...
A/N: I haven't written in a long while... if you read this I hope you like it.
-----
She’s decided there is something noticeably off about her neighbor down the hall. She couldn’t put a finger on it if she tried. And she had tried. Numerous times. In the various conversations with her various family members during routine phone calls. In the coffee shop conversations with friends that were too busy to actually dedicate more than a half-hour to hang out and in conversations with friends who weren’t too busy and sat on her couch to hear her recollect the strange behaviors of her neighbor down the hall.
Everyone who would listen had probably heard her mention this man.
And everyone said something along the lines of her being paranoid. That this was just “city living” and the small-town girl just wasn’t used to “normal city behavior”.
Something was off.
Maybe it was the fact that he always had to walk his dog whenever she left her apartment. Even if she knew for a fact that he had just walked the dog less than an hour prior.
Maybe it was that it took him an extremely long time to check his mailbox. The exact amount of time it took for her to walk into the building from work and make her way to the elevator when he would then rush to go up to the 4th floor with her.
Or maybe it was even the newly found knowledge that he was now friends with her good friend that helped her move into the building. The friend that had heard her moans and groans, complaints and grievances, regarding the man down the hall and the creepy feeling she gets when she thinks about the fact that he most certainly knows her daily routine.
That friend, that close friend, was now friends with her neighbor down the hall.
His name is Taehyung . As she’s learned from Jungkook who was surprised she didn’t know his name since he knew her name very well. Jungkook didn’t find this nearly as concerning as she did.
“He’s really nice!” Jungkook tried to convince her. She wasn’t buying it. In fact, she was more apprehensive about the fact that the man had now become a regular customer at the record shop Jungkook managed. Jungkook even mentioned that Taehyung had been going to a different shop much closer to the apartment complex but decided to branch out.
All of a sudden.
Jungkook didn’t find this odd. She did.
Taehyung finally introduced himself to her one day on the elevator back up to the 4th floor. She was surprised to find that he seemed fairly normal. That thought didn’t last long because she quickly remembered that the best serial killers and psychopaths seem normal. She convinced herself that he seemed normal because of the dog he offered for her to pet.
He told her that she could call the dog Tannie. He offered the ball of fluff as if he was a peace offering. As if Taehyung knew he creeped her out. As if he knew she really liked dogs. As if he knew it was a way into her heart. As if he had talked to Jungkook about her.
“We’ve been over this,” Jungkook said with a huff, “Taehyung isn’t some crazed murderer. You’ve gotta stop watching those Netflix documentaries. He’s super chill and I want you to hang out with him. I feel like I’m cheating on you.” He tried to explain his actions.
“You are cheating on me! I told you that he creeps me out and you befriended him!” She was very upset, Jungkook was one of her only friends in the city. One of the only people close enough to come to her rescue if something went wrong. And now he’s befriended her biggest fear. A man she is more cautious of than that one homeless man by the subway station who likes to sing creepy renditions of 90’s pop songs.
“It was hard not to befriend him. C’mon. If I like him he can’t be that bad. You’re just a little paranoid because of the move. That’s normal, I was too! But you’ve gotta get over it and then you, Taehyung, and I can all be friends. That sounds great, right?”
“Does it really mean this much to you?” She asked with a sigh, but she already knew the answer.
“Yes! It’d be great! We could bring Jimin and Yoongi around too! Some of the girls, even!  We’d all be super close and have movie nights or something!” Jungkook sounded too excited for this possibility for her to let him down. So she agreed. She agreed to hang out with Taehyung and Jungkook.
Jungkook insisted that they hang out at her apartment. Since two of the three of them lived in the same complex and Taehyung said his place was a mess even though it’s the bigger apartment. She begrudgingly agreed.
Jungkook and Taehyung seemed really close. Closer than she’d expect two people who’ve only met weeks ago to be. Jungkook made friends quickly… but this was very quick. Too quick.
Taehyung complimented her vinyl collection when he came in. Something she was proud of because it was a pricy habit that Jungkook fed into like she was but a duck in a pond and he was a man with too much bread.
Taehyung lingered around her furniture a little too much for her liking. Delicately touching the fabric of her sofa as he walked past. He practically studied her bookshelf. And when she finished cooking, with minimal help from Jungkook, he savored every bite so much that it reminded her of those ‘mindful eating’ exercises a friend had recommended for anxiety and she was certain his food would go cold before he finished.
He complimented her greatly on it. Kept mentioning how delicious it was and he was sure he hadn’t met anyone who cooked as well as she did that wasn’t a professional chef.
The compliments kept coming throughout the evening. On how well she’s decorated and her eye for color. Gradually the compliments moved from her musical tastes and her throw pillows to how nicely she was dressed.
Jungkook was a little tipsy and didn’t notice this shift. She almost didn’t notice either, he was so smooth with the way he slipped it into the conversation.
Eventually, midway through a card game, Jungkook stood up and said he was going to head home before he got too drunk to call an uber. Before he left he hugged her, telling her he was so happy she and Taehyung get along. She gifted him the remaining half bottle of wine and told him to call when he got home.
“Let me help you clean up.” Taehyung offered. It sounded like an offer but it was more of a demand. She allowed him, being a little too tired and a little too intoxicated to deny the help anyway. He even washed the dishes as she started to lose energy.
Eventually, she became so tired that after Jungkook called to let her know he was safe she didn’t protest when Taehyung hugged her before leaving. He thanked her for the wonderful night before he closed her door and allowed her to rest.
Only for a few minutes. 15 if she had been looking at the time as Taehyung had. He knocked on the door. He waited for movement, waited for her to open the door. She didn’t. She had passed out on the sofa.
Taehyung smiled as he opened the door. “Forgot my wallet.” He said, for good measure, just in case she wasn’t fully out. But she was completely out. Taehyung almost worried she was dead. He checked her neck for a pulse and let himself linger there longer than necessary just caressing her neck thinking of how beautiful her collarbones were. How wonderful her lips looked just slightly parted and stained red with wine.
She had barely even finished the full glass so Taehyung wondered if she was such a lightweight that she thought nothing of a glass of wine knocking her out.
She must not have. Just like she must not have noticed Taehyung taking a little too long bringing her a glass or even subtly urging her to drink.
It didn’t matter anymore. She was out cold on her sofa, beautifully laid out for him. He’d stay in her apartment if he could but he already had a setup at his own that called out her name.
Carefully, Taehyung scooped her into his arms as if he was afraid of breaking her. He hummed a soft melody as he carried her into his apartment, thankful for the apartment doors closing on their own.
Taehyung walked her into the second bedroom of his apartment and laid her out on the bed.  He strokes her hair softly, “I’ve waited so long for you.”
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gemmaswriting · 3 years
Text
Anidala Fanfiction Recommendations!!
I’ve been asked for a long time for my fanfiction recommendations, so I’ve finally taken the time to compile them. If there are any you love that I missed out (this includes Vaderdala!) leave them as a reply so we can all have a good time reading together. 
Writer: Shelivesfree (fanfiction profile) This wonderful girl has some of the most amazing Anidala stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Unfortunately, a lot of them have been hiatus for a while but her Boy Next Door trilogy has two amazing parts completed. 
The stories I recommend: 
“The Boy Next Door”: “When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.”
“The Girl from Harvard”: “Sequel to ‘The Boy Next Door’ Absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it grow more paranoid. Padme is in her last year of Harvard. Anakin has just started at the University of Chicago. Though they won't admit it, their long-distance relationship is taking it's heavy toll. Will their love prevail or will the distance prove too much for both of them? Sequel to The Boy Next Door. Modern AU.”
“look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide”:  ”Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him. Modern AU.”
“I Know Your Type”  “Am I dead?" It slips out, accidentally. She turns her head towards me, a confused look on her face and tips her head. "Excuse me?" Flashing her an impish grin, I lean casually against the wall. "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you look like an angel." The look she gives me is far from impressed. "Do you use that with all the girls, or am I just lucky?"
“we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love?” “Rhythmic Gymnast Padme Naberrie has dreamed of being an Olympian since she was five years old. Now, after years and years of training and preparations, she's finally made it to Rio, and nothing is going to stand in the way between her and a gold medal. Except a certain Canadian beach volleyball player, perhaps.”
“Infinite” “ My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
“for a moment” “And, just for a moment, all the worries and concerns that troubled the young couple cease to exist. Fade away to just this. Husband and wife. Asleep. Dreaming of the sweet little life they will soon bring into the world and into their hearts. Set somewhere in ROTS.”
“Procrastination” “Padmé is busy with a new bill she must bring before the next Senate meeting. Her husband has other ideas, it would seem.”
“There’s a million reasons I should give you up”  “Padmé struggles to deal with Anakin's frequent departures for weeks, even months, at a time during the Clone Wars. It's in these moments she contemplates the practicality of their marriage. Grief-stricken with loneliness, she stumbles across something she wrote a long time ago... a list of sorts. The find brings about a whole host of emotions she'd rather not deal with.”
“all I need is you” “It was her fault. His pain, his jealousy, his insecurity. It was all her fault. Padme looked up at the beautiful man in front of her, her husband, her Ani, and decided she needed to make him remember. Remind him of how much she loved him. Because no one, no man in the entire galaxy, could take the place of Anakin Skywalker.” 
“Her” “A glimpse into the Cosmic Force after Darth Vader's redemption and return to the Light Side. Anakin Skywalker is consumed by guilt and Obi-wan and Yoda are there to appease him. But it's been twenty-four years and all he wants is to see her.” 
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  Writer: SphinxScribe (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr account @sphinxscribe ) This fantastic writer has many, many alternate takes on the plot of Revenge of the Sith - often allowing our favourite couple to have a happy ending. Their writing captures the world of Star Wars perfectly. 
The stories I recommend: 
“Where Catalysts Stand Down” “Palpatine issues Order 66, and Anakin and Padmé flee Coruscant. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”
“Viability’s Edge” “Anakin tells Obi-Wan the truth. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”
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Writer: Disco Shop Girl (Fanfiction profile) This writer’s take on Anidala is so well written within every story of theirs I have read. They truly capture their dynamic and relationship perfectly. 
The stories I recommend:
“Your helmet cracked” “He'd been restrained, forced to watch while her helmet cracked and the Mon Calamari sea water threatened to drown her before his eyes. Now they're free. And alone. Set at the end of the Clone Wars season 4 Water War arc.” 
“Order 66-S” “The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.”
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Writer: Rogue Darth Skywalker (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr - @roguedarthskywalker) This wonderful person has been one of the biggest supporters of my own writing for a long time and I value them immensely! They have many delicious Anidala/Vaderdala stories for you to obsess over for hours and hours. I highly recommend following both profiles linked above.
The stories I recommend:
“Pin up Problems” “He hated the nose art. He hated seeing others degrade her other exceptional qualities by depicting her as some pin up girl. He hated thinking about how many other beings across the stars fantasized about her in such a way. At the same time, he can't deny that the art makes her look… hot. He can't deny that the sight turns him on.”
“Letting Go” “It was their custom. Every year on that fateful day, Anakin would make his way to the cemetery with his children and seek out the mausoleum where she rested."
“Far from Perfect” “Darth Vader is dead. Anakin is redeemed and lives on Naboo with Padme and their children. But not all happy endings are perfect.”
“Far from Easy” “Sequel to Far From Perfect. Redeemed Anakin Skywalker tries to make things right with his wife and kids.
“Perfect” “Happy Family style AU post ROTS. Padme wakes up in the middle of the night and ponders the most recent events in her life.”
“A Dangerous Fantasy” “Pure Smut. Padme helps Anakin fulfil a fantasy he has had since they were married- one that involves the Jedi Council Chambers.”
“Untitled” “Anakin and Padme deal with having to tell their young twins they are having another baby.”
“Strictly Professional” “There are times she hates that she has to resort to this- that rather than being in a long term relationship with someone, she chose to instead pay someone for sex. Modern AU.”  
“Out of his Depth” “I fought in a war. I commanded legions of soldiers against battle droids. I think I can handle my own four-year-old twins."
“Love and Jealousy” “Anakin gave the binders an experimental tug, testing his chances of escaping. There was none. A light chuckle left his lips after a few moments, letting his head fall back to rest on the chair. What a compromising position for a Jedi Knight to be in. Handcuffed in a respected senator's bedchambers practically naked… oh, how the holonews would rave should the story get out!” 
“Against all Odds” “He shouldn't be here. The election was only a few weeks away and the final debate was due in the next few days. There were so many other things he should be doing. He shouldn't be here, in enemy territory wrapped in the arms of the woman his boss despised. Modern AU. Smut.” 
“What we Hope is Never Found” “The impending existence of a recording of them together held dangers that went a little deeper than if they were found naked and tangled together in her office or on his cruiser. The physical proof of their relationship would cause an uproar if it were discovered. But she trusted Anakin. Smut.”
“It was Found” “Sequel to What We Hope is Never Found.”
“Things that go bump in the night” “Luke and Leia think there is a ghost in their home. Their parents know better.”
“Preparations” “She couldn't wait to meet their little ones. It hadn't been too long since they learned she was having twins, and as stressful as that idea was at first, she was quickly growing accustomed to the idea of having two perfect little babies. Her husband, however, seemed to be taking it a little worse than her.” 
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Writer: Skywalkersamidala (Archive of our Own profile/ Tumblr @markantonys) I absolutely adore the Anidala stories created by this author whether they’re aus or canon! They nail the couple’s dynamic throughout their many wonderful stories. 
The stories I recommend:
“Snow Place like Home” “For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.“
“Soulmates R Us” “Anakin works at a toy store, and single-mother-of-twins Padmé is becoming one of the store's best customers.”
“Heirs of Light and Darkness” “After escaping the Jedi purge two years ago made him the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker has at last been captured by the Empire. He expects to be killed, but Lady Padmé Amidala, the imperial heir, has other ideas.”
“Friendly Competition” “Playing Quidditch is awfully difficult when you’re in love with the rival Seeker. Snapshots of Anakin and Padmé’s 7 years at Hogwarts.“
“Perfect” “The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.“
“Nos Cedamus Amori“ “Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.“
“I Do Take Two” “Thirty years after their clandestine wedding on Naboo, Anakin and Padmé decide to finally do the proper wedding ceremony they never got to have, with all their friends and family present.“
“Flat Tire” “Who knew something as simple as getting a flat tire could change the entire course of your life?“
“Strays” “Anakin had always had a penchant for taking in strays.”
“Five weddings and a funeral” “Padmé's feeling gloomy about her perpetual singleness, but everything changes when she meets an attractive stranger at her sister's wedding.“
“Pipe Dream” “Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.“
“Birthdays and Birth days” “Anakin gets a birthday surprise — two of them, in fact.“
“Spouses with Benefits” “Anakin and Padmé wake up after a wild night in Vegas and discover they accidentally got married—and that Ahsoka posted about it all over social media, so now every single person they know is texting and calling them to offer congratulations. They decide to save face by pretending the marriage was totally 100% intentional and not a drunk mistake at all, keeping up the charade for six months, and then quietly getting divorced. But a lot can change in six months…“
“Two Halves Make a Whole” “Anakin is the single dad of Luke. Padme is the single mom of Leia. Luke and Leia meet in kindergarten and become best friends. The rest is history.“
“Home” “In which "Darth Vader" is no more than Anakin's playtime alter ego (happy Skywalker family AU)“
“Someday” “At age fourteen, Padme receives a marriage proposal from the nine-year-old boy next door and tells him to ask her again when she's thirty. Surely he'll have forgotten all about it by then.“
“Across the Centuries” “They meet each other in every century, but something always goes wrong before they can make it to happily-ever-after.”
“Madam President” “Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.“
“Scars” “How do Anakin and Padmé go from "I love you" to "I do"? Missing scene from Attack of the Clones.”
“The Bet” “Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...”
“Three” “His and Padmé’s first wedding anniversary isn’t going nearly as well as Anakin had hoped it would. Until, suddenly, it’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.“
“The Anakin Disaster” “Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.“
“Will You Fake Marry Me?” “Anakin's boss may or may not have accidentally given her family the impression that she's engaged to him. Anakin may or may not be pleased about the situation”
“Aggressive Negotiations” “Empress Amidala invites Lord Vader to her private rooms to persuade him to form an alliance with the Empire. Her methods are very effective.”
“Troubling Implications” “Perhaps he hated himself for it—Padmé thought he probably did—but he came that night (several times, in fact). And the night after that, and the next one, and the next, until it became a habit that neither of them seemed especially inclined to break. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations")
“Imperial Obligations” “Padmé's advisors suggest that she get rid of Vader and make a politically advantageous marriage. The Empress is less than pleased. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations" and "Troubling Implications")”
“Welcome Home” “Anakin Skywalker closes his eyes on the face of his son. When he opens them again, he is in Naboo, and someone is waiting for him.“
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Writer: Shawn30 (Fanfiction profile) The one, the only, the deservedly famous! I think every Anidala fan is aware of this f a n t a s t i c writer’s work. Deliciously smutty. Unbelievably well written. Unfortunately, many of their works have been left uncompleted for years but the stories are still worth reading!
 “Whisper” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but can also whither your soul and breed doubt in your heart. AP angsty erotica.”
“The Ties that Bind” “Given a brief period of time off during the Clone Wars, Padmé and Anakin visit her family at the Lake Country estate on Naboo. A family that still doesn't know they are married, although they are about to find out. Complete.” 
“The Light and the Dark” “Chapter 1 in the Hearts and Souls series. An unexpected Separatist attack 'accidentally' reunites two star-crossed lovers, giving them a brief moment of peace at a time of war. Complete.”
“Shadows of Winter” “Chapter 2 in the Hearts and Souls series. With six days to spend together celebrating their two year anniversary, Anakin and Padme travel separately to a remote planet in the Hoth system. Romance, passion, and danger await them. Complete.” 
 “Beloved” “Chapter 3 in the "Hearts and Souls" series. When faced with the most horrific news imaginable, Padme's utter desperation forces her to turn to Obi-Wan and even Chancellor Palpatine for help. Her greatest personal challenge awaits... Complete” 
 “Paradise” “The sequel to "Beloved." Following Padme's daring rescue of her husband, the Skywalker's return to Naboo for eight days to heal, unwind, spend time with family, and deal with their connection to the Dark Side of the Force.” 
 “Salvation” “After facing his moment of truth, Anakin and Padmé must finally deal with the consequences. Obi-Wan reveals a startling discovery. Complete” 
“Scandalous” “The sequel to Salvation. On the eve of Padmé Skywalker's official ascension to the role of Vice Chair of the Republic, Anakin steals her away for a wild vacation to Cloud City. Complete.”
“Sacred” “Chapter 2. Ahsoka and Jo'Seth grow closer. Padme's trip to the Jedi Temple on Republic business turns a bit more adventurous. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a heart to heart talk about moving forward.”
“Belonging” “A private afternoon lunch to catch up with an old friend during the Clone Wars reveals a great deal to ObiWan Kenobi. AP”
“Before the Seasons Change” “With the Darth Sidious finally defeated and the Clone Wars ended, Anakin and Padme consider what comes next in their lives. Anakin/Padme”
“Amor Vincit Omnia” “AU. After a three and a half year separation Vice Chair Amidala and Jedi Master Skywalker have some unfinished business as the Clone Wars have finally ended and Palpatine is dead.”
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If there’s any stories I missed, let me know!
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pnk-wasteland · 3 years
Text
Screenshot: Adrienette that’s borderline crack in the best way (Teen&up)
It was a nightmare. He hadn’t meant to leave his phone unattended, Alya had asked him a question and when he put his phone down to give her his full attention, Nino had picked it up to check the time and instead was greeted with a private Instagram account Adrien had created with the specific purpose to lurk in peace.
“No way, dude. Do you just stalk a bunch of Ladybug look alikes in your spare time?”
Adrien gaped, too horrified to process his world falling apart around him.
“Wow, look at this one, she looks almost exactly like ladybug!”
“Let me see!” Alya sounded too eager.
He’d never admit it, but there were more than just a few girls on his private Instagram that looked “exactly like” ladybug. And no, it wasn’t just a uncanny accident.
But the account his friend happened to stumble on was his favorite, a well off Russian Instagram model who’s handle was Steelix.
She could pass for a perfect Ladybug, if not for her brown eyes. She was perfect in almost every way, and posted great *ahem* material. Ladybug was the fantasy girl of his dreams and anybody that looked liked her was at risk of being followed and stalked by his private finsta page.
His private page he was privately ashamed of.
That his best friend was now holding up to show his own girlfriend, and the girl Adrien quietly, sort-of had a crush on. This really was his worst nightmare. He tried to snatch the phone from Nino but to no avail. “It’s just some girl. I like her photography.”
“Yeah sure that’s why you liked all her recent pictures and wrote in the comments ‘omg’ with a heart face, a drooling face, and two fire emojis.”
Adrien was red in the face, his mouth gone completely dry not knowing what to say.
“Wow Adrien, these are the kind of girls you like?” Alya asked.
Adrien glanced toward Marinette, and the look on her face was perfectly surprised. Ironically, her face was one of the ones he lives to see grace the screen of his dirty private Insta. Marinette had great Ladybug features right down to the freckles on her nose. The only bad thing was Marinette rarely posted any selfies at all, and although her account was an interesting documentary of her handmade fashions, it did not serve the dirty purpose his fake account had followed her for.
“So what?” He finally grabbed the phone from Nino and was getting back some of his composure, although his face was still deeply flushed.
“Oh no reason.” Alya’s smile was wicked, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
——__ __——__ __
Marinette ponders what she just witnessed while Alya blabs in her ear. She wasn’t holding the phone, but it sure looked like he was following a lot of slim girls with shoulder length black hair. If she didn’t know any better she would think he would have a type... And he certainly did nothing to dissuade that idea. He turned beet red and made some dumb excuse about photography. And that girl.. the one whose photo he had commented on, Marinette knew her. Well, she had previously followed her. Steelix has such a similar face structure to her own that she had been a phenomenal teacher of makeup to Marinette. She knew all the right things to use and what products would work on her just by watching what Steelix recommended. She had loved following her for her beauty content, but when her account started becoming more of a travel diary with pictures of her on island beaches in bikinis with inspirational quotes covering the captions, Marinette had to find other places to search for helpful information.
All of these thoughts were making her wonder about Adrien, and the things she had neglected to notice about him.
“If Adrien likes shorter, dark haired girls than why doesn’t he comment on my selfies like that?”
“Umm interrupt me, much?”
Oops, she didn’t mean to say that outloud.
“But maybe because you never post any, especially not to insta.”
Marinette thought about this. It was true she used her IG story to post updates on her Latest creations, and her grid was very much like a well thought out catalog. She was very proud of that page, but it was definitely not the place where she’d be posting cute sundress selfies.
“I use my Snapchat for personal stuff like that.”
“Exactly. And I bet you haven’t even given Adrian your snap.”
Marinette frowned, stealing a glance at the boys table. “No, I guess I haven’t.”
“Well what are you doing sitting here talking to me for? Go get his snap and start using it for evil!”
---_ _ _---_ _ _---
“Hey Adrian! Wait up!”
Adrian was more nervous than he should have been when his friend approached, but he kept the feeling off his face. “Hey Marinette! What’s up?”
She stopped right in front of him, “I was just thinking about earlier, how you have a private instagram account.”
Adrians stomach dropped. Had she figured him out? Did she know he was using her and girls that looked like her to quiet his drowning ache for Ladybug? He was so ashamed of himself. He was weak, so desperately weak.
“And it just got me thinking that I’ve known you so long and we don’t even have each others snaps.”
“I’m so- wait, what?”
“Snapchat. We don’t even have eachother added. So, want to be friends?” Marinette held out her phone, snap code ready for him to scan, her happy little pigtailed Bitmoji smiling up at him.
Something warm ticked his belly. “Yeah, definitely.” He pulled out his phone and added her to his seldom used snap account.
——__ __——__ __
He has to add her on his old account, the one with the list of contacts from kids that once gave him their number. There really isn’t that many.
Adrien finds out quickly that Marinette posts her selfies on snap, and keeps her instagram clean and more professional. Very smart for a girl who is looking to go to college next fall. He clicks on her daily story; a picture of her in her bedroom mirror, a picture of fresh croissants and danish, a picture of Alya, Rose and some other girls at her lunch table, and then finally a selfie. A picture taken from straight above, she was lying down in her bed, light pink and white pajamas that looked like they may have a ribbed texture to them. He could see the edge of the selfie stick she was using to get such a wide angle, the idea that she had planned this sleepy in bed photo turned him on more than he could have ever dreamed. He could see the tops of her exposed thighs where her matching pj shorts abruptly ended. Her lean, exposed belly led up to the cropped short sleeve tshirt, that was so on-trend and so Marinette that he had no doubt she’d made it for herself.
Best of all, her blue eyes stared right back at him through the camera and her lips were puckered just right.
It was as he was getting himself all worked up thinking about the blue of her gaze, easing his own back down her body when he realized something else; she wasn’t wearing a bra. And the way she had arched her back to show off the muscles of her stomach only made it more obvious; and Adrian couldn’t believe he didn’t notice them before. Tiny peaks hidden behind soft pink fabric. He was going to lose his mind.
His heart was beating faster and he swallowed back guilt as he unzipped his pants. Her body was amazing, and he was insanely greatful she left this on infinite. He worked himself till climax thinking about what her nipples must look like beneath that thin pajama top, and what it might feel like to taste them. He kept working himself, more gently, thinking about that face, those lips and those eyes and how bad he wanted her to swallow him. Who? Marinette or Ladybug? Honestly in that moment he didn’t feel like he was using her pictures as a ladybug substitute. He cleaned off his phone and thought seriously if he should use his tablet to take a picture of the screen just so Marinette wouldn’t know he screenshoted her. Another, dirtier part of him wants her to know. Wants to comment on her pictures like he’s some random thirsty nobody. Tell her how she makes him sweat, how he can’t get enough. He wants to use his private page to stalk her, too.
Damn sometimes the lines get too confusing.
He sits there, weighing his options. This picture was too good for him to let go. But he didn’t want to look like he was chasing after Marinette’s thirst traps when he knew he was still just a dirty pervert for Ladybug. Adrien felt like screen recording would be even more creepy than a screenshot, and almost made him feel like he was coping out, being a chump. But if he did screenshot her what would Marinette say? Would she ignore it? Would he be sad if she did?
Adrien shook off his intrusive thoughts and screenshotted his new favorite photo. And for good measure; and maybe so he could feel like he was making a move instead of just drooling over his classmate; he sent “wow” with an emoji it took him way too long to choose. Stuck between the drooling or hot emoji he finally got fed up with himself tapped his screen and sent it off without letting himself immediately get anxious. He made a decision, over analyzing himself won’t help anything. Now he just had to wait for Marinette to respond.
And then he could freak out again.
——————————-
A/N: a work in progress, can someone help me come up with their snap handles? I don’t like the ones I have right now. Adriens is supposed to read as (BeAgreste= be•our•guest). I dunno! I’m not good with puns it’s the best I could do! Please help me!
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