#i know the world is on fire but here is my pitiful offering in case anyone needs a lighthearted distraction
Note
Merrick/Raphael for 27, "pulling the other one towards them"
modern (professors???) AU, babyyy!! also on AO3 with some silly bonus content i didn't feel like formatting here 🙃
“What about that new girl in your department?” Minna asks. “Grace…something?”
“Grace Carrow?” Merrick offers dubiously. When Minna nods emphatically, he adds, “Grace Carrow isn’t in my department. She’s physics, I’m bio.”
“Oh, whatever,” Minna says. “It’s all science, isn’t it?”
“So is archeology, for that matter, but you’d never say she’s in your department.”
Minna turns to Clem, who’s been blessedly silent during this whole conversation. “Well, someone’s in a mood.”
“Em is just put out because Grace is younger than Mori’s boy, and we all agreed Mori’s boy is a bit young for him,” Clem replies, looking ambivalent.
“Which makes Grace far too young for me,” Merrick adds.
“I thought we agreed not to call Thaniel a boy anymore,” Minna says, distractedly.
“Did we?” Clem asks, interested now. “How magnanimous of us.”
“Besides,” Merrick interrupts, before this gets too far away from them, “Grace Carrow is engaged.”
“She is?”
“She wears a ring.”
“Oh, that could mean anything. It could be her mother’s, for all you know!”
“It doesn’t matter, really,” Merrick says. “She’s too young for me. And I’m not interested in her.”
“That’s very much the problem, dear. You’re not interested in anyone, and yet you complain about being a third wheel. I’m just trying to help.”
Merrick sighs and sinks further into the overstuffed armchair in Clem and Minna’s living room. The staff mixer for the end of the semester is always a source of stress. It’s important to go and be seen by the head of your department and any other higher ups who chose to attend, not only to come off as a team player who showed up to social events but also to appear calm and prepared, like someone who definitely has all their finals graded already and is looking forward to winter break like a professional and not like a desperate shell of a human.
As long as Merrick’s been at the university, he’s never had a date to bring for this party, and while that’s certainly not a requirement, there does always come a point in the evening where all the couples have clustered together to have actual intelligent conversation while the single faculty members are left to commiserate over the slog to get to the end of the semester and pair off unenthusiastically, if possible. It is not a pretty sight. He recently made the mistake of complaining about this in front of Minna, who has now taken it upon herself to pair him off with any faculty member she happens to know is single. And she knows everyone.
“I wasn’t really complaining,” he says, to head her off at the pass. “Just thinking out loud about how annoying these events are for the singles among us.”
“Besides,” Clem says, reaching over to fill his wife’s wine glass, “if Em’s that desperate for a date, he can just grow a pair and finally ask Raphael.”
Minna perks up immediately, reminding him, both amusingly and terrifyingly, of a hunting dog who’s caught the scent of its quarry. “Raphael?” she asks, with a look that tells Merrick his goose is officially cooked.
Clem, to his credit, looks sheepish. “Ah, I take it Minna didn’t know about the Raphael situation.”
“Well, she does now,” Merrick says, draining his own glass and holding it out pointedly for a refill.
“She certainly does not,” Minna exclaims. “What is the Raphael situation?”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
Minna gives him an unimpressed look that could puncture a lung on a lesser man, and then swivels to look at Clem. “Markham,” she say, firmly, “you know there are no secrets in a healthy marriage.”
“That’s not fair!” Merrick shouts, but it’s a lost cause.
Clem wavers immediately under his wife’s gaze. “Merrick attended that lecture Raphael gave last month at the opening of the Inca exhibit at the museum, and they chatted briefly afterwards, and he hasn’t shut up about him since,” he admits in a rush.
“That’s not totally accurate,” Merrick hedges.
“He also had a dream about him.”
“Clem—!”
“WHAT?!” Minna shrieks at the same time. Merrick debates pointing out that they have a sleeping baby upstairs to worry about, but decides against it. “I cannot believe you kept this from me. I’m way better with this kind of thing than Markham here is and you know that.”
Merrick rolls his eyes. “You two met when you were twelve and have never been with anyone else. Neither of you are an expert on dating.”
“Fine. Just for that, I demand you tell me about this dream of yours.”
“Absolutely not!”
Minna turns in her seat. “Markham—”
“Christ, Minna! It was nothing,” Merrick says, feeling his face warm with a blush that immediately contradicts him. “I just had a dream that he and I were hanging out again and then…it’s stupid.”
“Oh, dear. You don’t have to be embarrassed. We’re all adults here. Sex is nothing the be ashamed of!”
Merrick makes a useless gesture with his hands that he hopes conveys his frustration. “That’s the stupid part! It wasn’t about sex at all! In the dream, all Raphael did was hug me goodbye before he left and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. It’s ridiculous!”
Minna and Clem exchange a look at that, which is not precisely reassuring. When Minna’s gaze returns to him, she reaches out to take his hand across the coffee table. “Darling, I think you’ve been single a little too long,” she says, not unkindly.
Merrick laughs, shakily. “No kidding.”
“Do we need to hug you more?” she asks, and she is, unfortunately, serious. “Are we failing you as friends? Are you completely touch starved?”
“Okay, I’m going to walk into traffic now…”
“Em is fine, Minna,” Clem says, placing his hand firmly on Merrick’s shoulder, so they’re all connected in a tiny triangle. “He just needs to buck up and make a move.”
“Again, you’ve been in a relationship since before you hit puberty,” Merrick says. “I’m not taking notes from you on this. Besides, I can’t believe you’re encouraging me to date Raphael. I thought you two were rivals.”
“Yes, well, I’m an exceptionally generous friend like that,” Clem replies with a smile. “And there’s every possibility that if Raphael were to get laid, he might argue with me less during department meetings, which would suit me just fine.”
“You have enormous faith in my sexual prowess, Clem, if you think I can do anything that might make Raphael despise you less.”
Clem raises his wine glass in a mock toast. “You’re like my own personal Mata Hari, Em. The anthropology department thanks you for your service.”
“I don’t even know if he’s single,” Merrick says, ignoring him. “Or if he likes men. Or me, for that matter.”
“Ah, but these are things we can find out,” Minna says, with a mischievous smile.
Merrick recognizes an uphill battle when he sees one, and resigns himself to Minna’s machinations, whatever they turn out to be, with a very large sip of wine.
*
Grace Carrow, it turns out, is very fun to hang out with at faculty mixers because she’s as unhappy to be there as he is. They spend most of the evening being cranky bastards together at a mostly empty table, and he’s honestly kind of disappointed she turned out to be so cool. She is engaged, though, a fact that he confirms when she abandons him fairly early on in the evening by announcing her intention to meet up with her boyfriend, who’s working on a PhD in Japanese poetry at a university across town, for a late dinner.
“Boyfriend?” Merrick asks, keeping his tone light enough that she won’t mistake his curiosity for romantic interest. “I assumed you were engaged, what with the ring and all.”
“Oh,” Grace says, looking embarrassed. “Yes, I suppose I’m going to meet my fiancé. It’s recent so I just can’t get used to saying it. I never could with Thaniel either.”
“Thaniel?”
“Steepleton. I thought you two knew each other.”
“We do. I wasn’t aware you did.”
Grace waves a hand. “We were engaged very briefly a few years back, before he and Mori…well, you know. It’s a very long story for what was ultimately a very short relationship, and I’d rather not talk out of school, you understand.”
“Of course,” Merrick says, magnanimously, but he’s already looking forward to sharing this bit of gossip with Clem and Minna. Every small piece of information they can gather about Mori’s life is a boon, given how private Mori is with the details now that he’s happily in a relationship. “Have a good night.”
Grace waves again, this time as a goodbye, and heads for the doors. No sooner has she disappeared from the room than Merrick feels someone sit down heavily in the chair Grace recently vacated.
“Dr. Tremayne,” Raphael says, by way of greeting.
“Professor Santos,” he replies, turning to face him, “at what point in our relationship do you think you’d be open to using my first name?”
Raphael’s expression gives away that he has to, with some effort, bite back a sarcastic retort before it mellows out into something genial and vague. “My apologies, Merrick,” he finally says.
“Much better,” Merrick says. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Your first name isn’t that fun to say.”
Merrick feels himself blush. Stupidstupidstupid. “I meant, at the party.”
“Oh, of course,” Raphael says, not looking the slightest bit chagrined. There’s amusement lurking around the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to be indulging it at all. “Truthfully, I’ve always found these end-of-semester affairs to be a bit of a slog.”
“Really?”
“Don’t tell Dr. Wellesley,” he says, tipping his head in the direction of the tall woman who’s deep in conversation with Clem and Minna on the other side of the room. She’s the head of the anthropology department and thus Raphael’s boss.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Merrick says. “Besides, I feel the same way.”
“So, if my secret gets out, I’ll go straight to the head of your department as revenge.”
Merrick snorts, thinking about how Sing left this party after five minutes and wouldn’t care at all to hear anyone disparage it. His boss would probably agree with the sentiment. He doesn’t say that, though, because he has the distinct feeling Raphael is flirting with him and he doesn’t want that to stop anytime soon.
“Mutually assured destruction,” he replies, instead. “What a lovely idea.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
There’s a lull in their conversation, which allows Raphael to look around the room and Merrick to panic about what to say next to keep this possible flirtation going.
“Are you finished with your grading for the term?” He finally asks, after many moments of deliberation, and he really could die of embarrassment. That’s apparently the best he can do for flirting.
Raphael seems to find this offering pitiable too, if the ways he raises his eyebrow inquisitively is any indication. “Yes, I finished grading the last essay this afternoon, as a matter of fact,” he answers, clearly trying to put Merrick out of his misery.
“Lucky bastard,” he grumbles under his breath, and Raphael surprises him by laughing. Merrick always finds an odd sort of pride in getting Raphael to smile or laugh, given his no-nonsense, straightforward demeanor. He thinks it’s a reputation he courts, being seen as serious and unapproachable, but he also knows that his classes have waitlists every semester and his grad students are utterly devoted to him. The only professor more popular in his department is Clem, but Merrick chalks that up to Clem being more widely published and outwardly jovial. Once the students see what a brutal grader Clem can be, he loses some of his shine to them. Raphael, on the other hand, seems to only grow in popularity with his students as the semester goes on, so he can’t be a complete tyrant in his classes.
Still, it’s the rarity of his smiles that endeared him to Merrick in the first place. It’s hard to say now, when he’s felt it for so long, when exactly this stupid crush started, but it certainly wasn’t from the beginning. It takes a while for Raphael to really open up and be himself, for all he is notoriously blunt with everyone at all times, and his sense of humor does require some getting used to, in all honesty. That only made it more rewarding for Merrick, though, to realize that Raphael was cracking jokes with him and seeking him out at faculty functions.
And then there was that damned opening for the new Inca exhibit at the museum. Merrick had gone out of general interest—he comes from a long line of academics, though everyone in his family chose disparate fields of study, and some of them had spent considerable amounts of time in South America, which meant he learned a lot about the Inca as a small child—but also because he and Raphael are friends in a vague way and he wanted to hear his remarks for the opening. He’d heard Clem complain enough about how popular Raphael’s classes were getting that he’d been curious to see him in action.
He hadn’t been disappointed. Raphael is an engaging speaker, without trying too hard to be entertaining or relatable. He has a way of presenting even the driest information so that it feels vital and interesting, but he doesn’t speak down to anyone. He assumes his audience is intelligent and interested, and by some weird transitive property, that’s what they become. It had only been a short speech about the subject and the importance of the exhibit, but Merrick had fully understood the fuss surrounding his classes. Even if he hadn’t gone into that situation with a small crush on him, he probably would have left with one. Now, though, it’s anything but small. His crush on Raphael is raging out of control.
“I’m guessing that means you’re not finished yet?” Raphael asks, somehow still maintaining that insouciant flirtatiousness despite Merrick’s unsexy topic of choice.
“No,” he says, flustered in spite of his best efforts. “Not even close.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage. You’ve got, what, 24 hours until they’re due?”
Merrick checks his watch, the one Mori gave him for his birthday a few years ago. “A little more than that, but yes.”
“You’ll be fine. You teach botany, right? Isn’t their final exam just, like, growing a seed in a paper cup? How long could those take to grade?”
“I think you’re confusing my undergrads with third graders,” Merrick replies, drily. Still, he can’t help the smile that’s taking over his face, which ruins the effect a little.
“My mistake,” Raphael says, smiling back, unrepentant. There’s another brief pause where they sit in comfortable silence before he suddenly asks, “Markham says you might need a ride?”
Merrick stares back at him blankly for an embarrassing amount of time before he can form any sort of response. “Markham says—wait, which Markham? Minna?”
“Yes, I only know one Dr. Markham here.”
“That is objectively untrue.”
“No, it’s not. Dr. Markham’s husband also has a doctorate, but given how terrible his syllabus always is, I refuse to believe his degree is from an accredited university,” Raphael says, sincerely.
Merrick rolls his eyes. “Regardless,” he says, “this is another instance where using someone’s first name would be both helpful and appropriate.”
“Two things I always strive to be,” Raphael quips. “The one and only Dr. Minna Markham suggested you might need a ride home tonight.”
“She did? Why?”
“I foolishly assumed it was because you actually needed one,” he says, with a nonchalant shrug. “All she said to me was something about you probably wanting to leave earlier than her and her husband would, and that they’d been your ride to the party, so she felt like she needed to help get you home in one piece. I didn’t realize I would know more about this than you would.”
Merrick looks over to where Minna is now standing with Clem and several other professors he doesn’t know well, and she’s watching him and Raphael with her wine glass held up to her lips. She offers him a small smile—not overly gloating, just vaguely pleased—and makes a point of returning her gaze to her conversation partners—in a bid to give him some privacy, he supposes.
“Now that you mention it, she did say they might be staying late,” Merrick says, not entirely certain he’s even slightly convincing at it.
“Well, I told her I’d be happy to give you a lift.”
“Oh, well, you don’t have to, just because Minna twisted your arm—”
“Christ, Merrick! It’s a ride home, not a kidney,” Raphael says, but he looks amused. Maybe even charmed, though that could just be wishful thinking. “I am leaving now, though, so if you’d rather stay—”
“God, no,” Merrick immediately interjects. “I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
Raphael smiles again, that stupid, rare smile of his, and nods. “I assume you’ll want to say goodbye to the Markhams, and I need to talk to my boss before I leave, so let’s meet by the doors in five minutes.”
“Alright,” Merrick replies, trying to sound like leaving this party with Raphael isn’t making him incredibly nervous. He reaches for his cane, propped up against the table next to him, with sweaty palms and prays that his crush isn’t obvious to literally everyone.
He makes his way over to where Minna and Clem are standing and tries to capture their attention without completely interrupting the conversation. Minna catches his eye and turns towards him with arms already outstretched.
“How’d we do?” she asks, sotto voce, which saves him only a little embarrassment.
“Well, he’s driving me home, so I’m thinking maybe spring for the wedding,” he replies, with an eye roll.
Minna whacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. “Don’t be absurd, Em! You’d never be able to plan a proper wedding by spring! Summer, though…”
He’s spared from having to come up with a clever retort by a sudden pain in his knee that makes him wince and lean more heavily on his cane. By the time he’s collected himself, he looks up to find Minna watching him with concern.
“Everything alright?”
Merrick waves it off. “Oh, it’s fine. Just hurts worse when the weather’s bad. You know.”
Minna nods. “It’s supposed to be particularly nasty tonight. You’ll be careful getting home?”
“I won’t be the one driving, but I’ll do my best not to distract Raphael too much with my good looks,” he says.
“Don’t joke about that! You know, you’re very handsome, Em.”
“What’s that?” Clem asks, choosing this moment to join the conversation.
“I’m telling Merrick to stop being so damned self-deprecating and admit that he’s very handsome,” Minna replies, without shame. “Don’t you think he’s very handsome, Markham?”
“Oh, exceedingly,” Clem says, in that mild way of his where it’s impossible to tell if it’s sarcastic or not. “You’re not bad to look at at all, Em.”
Merrick is certain he’s blushing furiously now. “Thank you both so much for the pep talk, but unfortunately I must be going now,” he says.
Minna pulls him into a gentle hug, careful not to throw off his balance now that she knows his knee is bothering him. “Like I said, be careful,” she whispers to him.
“Yes, yes. I will be.”
“You don’t suppose Raphael would be willing to carry you to the car, on account of your leg and all, do you?”
Merrick groans and pulls back from her. “You’re a menace,” he says, blushing even more now.
“He’s just so strapping,” she says, with a diabolical look in her eye. “I bet he could do it.”
“Unfortunately, we’ll never know,” Merrick replies, breezily, and turns to hug Clem goodbye.
Clem embraces him, but has the audacity to say, before they break apart, “The entire anthropology department is rooting for you, my friend.”
“You are both terrible,” Merrick says, “and I cannot believe you’re my best friends in the entire world.”
“You’ll be much more appreciative of our efforts once you’ve gotten laid, my dear,” Minna replies, cheerfully, as she reaches out to fix his collar.
“We’re not—I didn’t say—That’s not what’s happening!”
“Keep an open mind, darling,” Clem says, toasting him before effectively ending the conversation by turning back to the other group of professors.
“Safe travels,” Minna adds, “and we’ll see you for the holidays!”
Merrick sighs, defeated. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheeks before departing.
True to his word, Raphael is waiting for him by the exit when he gets there, and with nothing more than a nod in his direction, heads out of the room. Tonight is definitely not going to end in a win for the anthropology department, Merrick thinks, glumly, as he follows. Once they’ve crossed through the lobby of the building and out into the actual night, the force of the cold, damp air hits Merrick like a wall and he pauses to button his coat all the way up to his neck and readjust his grip on his cane. There are fat snowflakes the size of doilies falling through the air and landing uselessly on the ground where they melt almost immediately. Here on the main campus, the groundskeepers have salted the pathways generously, so it will be a long while before anything can accumulate. He imagines the roads will be just the same, for the moment at least, and he’s glad for multiple reasons to be escaping the party at this particular moment. Driving home any later would likely be a nightmare.
He’s thinking about texting Minna and Clem a weather update and is halfway through pulling out his phone, when he remembers that he’s not alone. Raphael stands a few feet away, waiting patiently and looking amused. It’s neither of those things that truly capture Merrick’s attention, though.
“Is that really what you’re wearing? In this weather?” he asks, instead, gawking at him.
Raphael looks down, as if he’s never considered his own clothing before. “What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s a suit.”
“We were at a party, Merrick. Suits are appropriate.”
Merrick shakes his head, disbelieving. “Usually, in the middle of snow storms, an actual jacket is helpful.”
“This is a jacket,” Raphael says, plucking at his lapels.
“It’s a suit ja—wait, are you honestly telling me you don’t have a coat? You didn’t just forget it inside?”
“This is what I wore to the party,” Raphael says, slowly, like maybe Merrick is the moron here.
“Aren’t you cold?!” Merrick asks, indignant and just barely holding himself back from stamping his feet to keep warm as the chill settles in.
“Not really,” Raphael replies, with a shrug. “You are, though, so maybe we should start walking.”
Merrick reluctantly lets this argument go, and nods. He’ll text Minna and Clem about the roads once they’re on their way, but he focuses now on getting to the parking garage without falling on his face. This part of campus is very pretty, especially in the snow, with its quintessential liberal arts college architecture, big, stone buildings with massive arched windows and cobblestone paths everywhere. But the very things that make it quaint and picturesque can make it harder to navigate with a cane, Merrick finds, as his gets stuck between two uneven cobblestones in the path they’re taking to the edge of campus, where Raphael is parked. He swears under his breath, but not enough to avoid Raphael hearing, apparently, because he looks over with concern.
“Alright?” He asks, eyebrows drawn together.
Merrick feels himself flush even in the bitter cold air. “Yes, fine,” he says, trying not to grit his teeth. He usually doesn’t struggle this much, but the cold and the dampness are making his leg ache and the unfamiliarity of the situation is making him nervous.
Of course, the moment he waves off Raphael’s concern is also the moment he loses his balance. His foot simply slips out from under him on the wet stones and he starts to fall for a terrifying split second until he feels himself yanked back as Raphael pulls him upright by his elbow and into his side, though presumably that last part is an accident. Merrick is trying to catch his breath while keeping his eyes screwed shut to avoid facing the embarrassment of what just happened when he realizes Raphael is still holding him.
He opens his eyes to find Raphael watching him carefully, with an expression of mild terror across his features that Merrick suspects has less to do with fear over his near-fall and more to do with how close their faces are right now. Merrick is a little taller than Raphael under normal circumstances but in their current configuration—Merrick still slouched over slightly and Raphael keeping him close with one hand on his elbow and the other on his waist to steady him—they're eye-to-eye. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Raphael look nervous, although maybe he just always hides it better than Merrick does, but he certainly looks it now.
“Thanks,” is what Merrick manages to say, as faintly as humanly possible. If he’d been actively trying to do an impression of a cartoonish damsel in distress whose heart is racing more from the broadness of her rescuer’s chest than the danger she avoided, he couldn’t have done better. Then again, in his defense, Raphael does have an impressively broad chest.
“Sure,” Raphael says, and it was probably, given his general demeanor, meant to come out breezy and nonchalant, but instead he grits the word out stiffly, as though it takes all his concentration to say it correctly.
“I don’t—” Merrick struggles to find his words. “What I mean is, I’m not normally this…”
“I know,” Raphael answers, without waiting for him to finish. His look has been upgraded from nervous to petrified, and it almost makes Merrick want to laugh. It turns out all he needed to get calm, cool, detached Raphael off his game was to get within kissing distance of him. He wishes he’d thought of this months ago.
Raphael’s eyebrows draw together even further, adding a layer of guardedness to his expression. “Why are you smiling?” he asks, without a hint of amusement.
Merrick hadn’t realized he was. “There’s snowflakes landing on your eyelashes,” he says, because there are and he’s never had the opportunity to view that particular feature of Raphael’s up close before.
“Oh,” Raphael says, blankly. He doesn’t look happy with that answer, but Merrick is.
From anyone else, it would be a letdown, a mixed signal to worry over later when he’s home by himself. But for whatever reason, coming from Raphael, it is a clear sign that he’s doing something right. Nobody flusters Raphael. He might be the first in human history to manage it. All this time he’s been waiting for Raphael to catch on to his crush and make a move or reject him accordingly. It had never occurred to him that maybe Raphael had maybe been doing the same thing, circling around him, seeking him out at staff meetings and work parties, and hoping he’d be the brave one. He took Raphael’s confidence and self-assured demeanor in his professional life for granted as his de facto personality in every part of his life, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’d found the thing that intimidated the otherwise unflappable anthropology professor that everyone admired. And it was him, of all things.
“It’s cute,” Merrick says, meaning the snowflakes and the eyelashes and the swooping in to save him and the fact that he’s nervous about it all now.
Raphael nods, the gesture both absent and enthralled, and clearly tries to think of something to say, but he gets distracted when Merrick wets his lips, which is all the encouragement Merrick needs to lean forward and kiss him. Raphael’s mouth is stiff under his for a long moment, which Merrick attributes more to surprise than disgust and vows to give it a few more seconds before he panics and backtracks. Raphael doesn’t so much burst into reciprocation—the way people do in the movies, like a switch from shock to passion has been flipped—so much as he melts into it. His disbelief and restraint mellows into something more yielding and he kisses Merrick back cautiously. He allows himself to be kissed, following Merrick’s lead and inclination, which on paper shouldn’t be sexy and yet, here and now, it is driving Merrick a little bit wild. After months of thinking about it, the best way to go about pursuing him, Raphael’s submission to him here feels deliriously good.
Merrick tests the waters by tracing Raphael’s lip with his tongue, and he’s rewarded with a small groan of pleasure before Raphael opens his mouth for him. He’s also rewarded with Raphael’s hand coming to tangle in his hair, wet from the snow that’s still falling and probably growing rattier by the second. He doesn’t want to deal with that reality right now, though, or the one where his leg is still bent at an awkward angle and starting to ache. He just wants to be able to ignore all that for another few minutes, to keep this going, because he can feel Raphael growing bolder by the second and he wants to encourage that way of thinking.
Eventually, though, he can’t help making a noise of protest as the pain in his knee goes from an ache to a stab. Raphael rears back immediately, looking dazed and alarmed, but thankfully not getting too far away. His warm breath clouds up the cool night air between their bodies.
“Sorry,” he says, more a reflex than anything else.
“Why are you—?” Merrick laughs. “What are you apologizing for?”
“I don’t…know,” Raphael says, sounding lost. It’s both concerning and flattering in equal measure.
Merrick shakes his head, amused. “It wasn’t you. It’s just my leg. With the weather being bad, it was already hurting and then I sort of landed on it weird. I’m sorry. It’s not normally—”
“Don’t apologize to me. Not for that. I should have thought—”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s just bad luck, with the snow and all. I promise I’m not always complaining about it, it’s just—”
“Merrick,” Raphael interrupts, solemnly, “I don’t care. I mean, I care, but not like…you don’t have to minimize it. You’re not turning me off. Am I—Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” he manages to reply, even though his throat feels kind of dry. He knows that he spends a lot of his time trying to wave off concern from well-meaning people who don’t understand how someone so young and healthy could need a cane, and diverting the attention of less well-meaning people who want to ask a thousand questions about how it happened or tell him exercises that helped their third cousin’s bridesmaid with their mobility after their accident. He finds it hard to believe that this could be the reason someone wouldn’t find him attractive at all, but he’d never actually realized before how much time he spends minimizing his complaints about bad days and the lack of accessibility on campus in order to not come off as a bummer—or, god forbid, high maintenance—to other people. He didn’t realize how nice it would be to have someone give him blanket permission to talk about it, or not, to his heart’s content without the risk of judgment.
“Minna suggested having you carry me,” he adds, stupidly, after a moment. He can’t think of anything intelligent to say, because his brain is too focused on getting back to the kissing part of the evening.
Raphael’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “She did?”
“She said you were strapping.”
“I suppose compared to her husband, anybody would seem—”
Merrick shoves his shoulder, though not particularly hard. It makes him feel like a teenager again. “Be nice,” he says, fighting off a grin. “She’s rooting for us.”
“Oh?” Raphael’s eyebrows climb higher, but his tone betrays some amusement.
Merrick shouldn’t have said that part, but it’s too late to backtrack now. “What?” He asks, indignant instead. “Did you think tonight was the first time I thought about kissing you?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it that deeply,” Raphael says, pensively. When Merrick laughs at that, he scowls. “My mind was, as you might expect, elsewhere.”
“Oh?” Merrick says, trying to match Raphael’s intonation. “Would you like to elaborate on where exactly your mind went?”
Raphael wets his lips, eyes on the ground. “When you kissed me, you mean?” he asks, without looking up.
“Yes.”
It had never occurred to Merrick before this that maybe Raphael wasn’t haughty or aloof, but rather that he was shy and cautious. He also thought his infatuation had been extraordinarily obvious, to everyone, yes, but to Raphael above all. Now, he’s thinking maybe it wasn’t. The idea he’d had in his head of Raphael as cool and unaffected, as the person holding all the cards in their interactions, might have been a fundamental misunderstanding of him, he now realizes. Because the man in front of him is nervous, is holding himself back out of an abundance of caution. The man in front of him has made it clear Merrick is, in fact, holding all of the cards. That doesn’t stop him, though, from making a move, as he lifts his gaze to meet Merrick’s again.
He smiles, softly. “You still want me to take you home?”
#i know the world is on fire but here is my pitiful offering in case anyone needs a lighthearted distraction#THIS PROMPT IS FROM SIX MONTHS AGO OH MY GOD#also please read it on AO3 the bonus content is my greatest achievement yet#yes i am writing a part two#im deranged <3#touch prompts#fic#firstelevens#homelywenchsociety#that's just my writing tag don't worry about it#the bedlam stacks#merrick tremayne#raphael#(no last name)#dont worry i gave him one in the fic#minna markham#clem markham#CAN YOU BELIEVE NO ONE HAS TAGGED THEM ON AO3 BEFORE???#trailblazer of the year award to meeeeee#grace carrow#is also here because i love her#it's just for flavor don't let that turn you away#mori and thaniel don't appear but they are mentioned and YES I HAVE THEIR BACKSTORIES FLESHED OUT MOSTLY#once again.... deranged!!!#anyway here's wonderwall
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Alastor x Reader
𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2
( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )
Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die.
“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.
“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later.
“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at?
“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.
“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before.
“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.
“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.
“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.”
“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again.
“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.
“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt.
“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.
“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore.
After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me.
“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though?
“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again.
“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.
“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-
“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.
“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.
“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.
“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…
…gone.
The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie.
Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.
Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back.
His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room.
Alastor, what did you do?
Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired.
“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.
“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in.
“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once.
“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.
“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.”
(Part 3...?)
(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)
(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)
TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg
#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#radio demon#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction
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Loki x Y/n
Summary: You are the new recruit living in the tower and you have your first interaction with Loki, what he doesn’t know is that you have a… special personality
Your powers are that you can control the elements and you can control and read minds
I'm sorry If there are any mistakes, English isn't my first language
You were in the library reading a book that Thor recommended me about The Avengers when Loki enters
Loki seems slightly surprised to see you there “The elemental, you’re reading?”
“No, I just like hold books. You’re Loki right?” you say sarcastically, making a grin
He nods “Indeed I am. I’m the God of Mischief, and you are the elemental?
“Yeah but I prefer Y/n”
He chuckles “My apologies Y/n. But it is a mighty name isn’t it? Elemental” He says the word as if it were some riddle “Well, Y/n why not follow me and we can talk in somewhere more private?” Loki has a sly smile on his face
“Okay” you follow him, being a bit suspicious because of his background and what not. He seems a bit much enthusiast about being in private. Some minutes later you get to a quiet room. He smiles and closes the door behind the both of you
“So…elemental. What can you do” he says while looking you up and down
“I control the elements and minds, but I also can read them” you are alert for whatever might happen
“Read mind you say?” He looks at you chuckles “Well that should come in handy for spying and stuff” he smiles
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here”
“And do you control all the elements too?” he asks with curiosity
“Yeah. Fire, water, wind and earth” you answer
He smiles at you and nods “Maybe you could demonstrate them?”
You agree and make fire come out of your hand while you summon a burst of wind
He chuckles and smiles “That should be enough proof” he looks at you a bit more and then speaks softly “I like your powers elemental, they could be very useful. I wonder what I could do with you as an advantage”
“What do you mean?” you say suspicious and prepared to fight in case you need to causing to smirk
“You think I’m going to attack you? Me? I would never do such a thing. What I am going to do is offer you a deal…”
“Well you see Loki, you attacked New York and I’m sorry but I’m not that kind of things you know” you smile at him with irony
He looks at you annoyed “Not that again! Let’s forget that” he waves dismissively “You can help me with my future plans. Together we could accomplish things you wouldn’t expect. The gods themselves would bow before us!” Loki seems to get more and more excited while talking about this
You look surprised “But I don’t want that , I just want help the innocent people, I wanna defend them. Besides, I’ve heard your plans are lead the Earth and I’m not interested” you say, refusing to help him
He laughs a bit “So what? I could make things better for Earth if I led it. If I controlled it…I could achieve better things then this so called Avengers group ever could”
“But, like I said, I don’t want to”
Loki starts to get annoyed “Look, let me explain to you what you do don understand elemental. I am the master of mind manipulation, I could make you do things you would never dream of doing. I have this gift. I could change the world…And I could start by making you into being on my side and achieving my plans” Loki smirks “You may not want to join me. But as I will show you…You don’t have a choice” he thinks he’s the best, but I’m here to demonstrate him that his wrong
“I do have a choice, you know why? Because I can also manipulate minds, including yours”
He chuckles “You think I would be affected by your powers?” Loki smirks even more “Elemental… I am a God. I would laugh at your pitiful attempts”
“You sure? Let’s try” I control his mind, making him feel hurt
He starts to feel pain and his eyes widen “What have you done elemental?!” he stumbles back holding his head in
“You think I can’t control you, that I’m not strong enough, so I’m showing you otherwise. I think you underestimated me and my powers” you say looking at him angry due to he didn’t think you were capable of have power over him
He kneels down on the floor holding his head in pain “Aghh…you are not going to give me much choice with this are you elemental?” Loki looks at you
“Say I can control you, say that you’ll stop your stupid plans, and then I’ll stop” you say, looking down on him
“Okay, okay. You have a small edge over me elemental. But what if I told you that I can give you something that you’ve never felt before?” he says struggling to talk
“What?” you ask, still angry and faking interest about what he says
He stands up straight and smirks “If you work with me elemental, you’ll learn things. Knowledge that normal humans, and even other gods wouldn’t dare know. What do you say elemental?” Loki is still in pain but it’s going away. He looks at you with a serious face
“I don’t think I need to learn anything more” you say bored
He chuckles “But knowledge is the most powerful weapon that one can wield. I have the knowledge… and I can unlock your potential that you’ve never realised you had” Loki’s face turns from serious to a more calm tone. And I’m offering all of this to you elemental” he is still recovering from your mind manipulation and you think it has affected him more than you expected, because everything he says is more and more stupid
“I won’t collaborate in such plans as yours” you firmly and tired of his perseveration
He laughs slightly “Why don’t you trust me elemental? Don’t I seem like a nice and caring person?” Loki smiles “I am offering you the chance to unlock the most powerful version of yourself. Just take my hand elemental…just accept my deal”
You chuckle “First, did you really have to ask that? Let’s see, you attacked an entire town just because you wanted to, now you’re saying stupid things about Gods bowing before us and you’re the God of Mischief, that’s why I don’t trust you” you smile sarcastically at him “second, no you don’t exactly look like a nice and caring person, but I’ll accept” you are curious so you take his hand
He smiles triumphantly “You’ll see, I am the God of Mischief after all…I’ll treat you like royalty. You’ll enjoy the knowledge that I give you”
“I am warning you, as soon as you say something I don’t wanna do I’ll go, understood?”
He nods and smiles “Understood. I’ll be fair with you elemental”
“You’ll have to do something more, I can’t accept just your word, you’re the God of Mischief after all” you say, not trusting him
He smirks and leans in “Look elemental, if I wanted to make you do something you don’t want to, I would’ve done so already. But I respect your choices for now”
“Okay, I guess that will have to be enough” you nod
Loki’s smirk grows wider and wider “That’s right elemental. Now come with me and I shall show you things you’ve never seen before” Loki smiles and starts walking to the door and you follow him. Loki is leading both of you across the base until he stops infront of the door and the opens it. When he opens you see something that surprises you. Loki smiles and beckons you to come inside with him “Just come in elemental, there is something I wanna show you”
You enter the room, looking amazed at everything. There are lots of computers and scientific equipment. He has made a fully advanced lab. There are even weapons that are all laid out. He turns to you and smiles
“What do you think elemental?” he asks
“What are the weapons for” you say
He chuckles “Well we never know when a problem happens right elemental? So it’s best to be prepared. What if another Loki came to this universe? Wouldn’t we have to be prepared for that” Loki chuckles as he speaks, but he is being serious though
“We have to be prepared for you, I don’t wanna even think about two of you” you say absent as you keep looking around
He laughs “You see my point right elemental. I am a God after all so we better prepare for that” Loki smiles. He then gestures for you to come with him to another part of the lab “Come elemental, I have a present for you”
We walk over to some sort of weapon “Now elemental, you do not only have the ability to control the elements right? You can also read minds…what if…” he turns to you and smirks “I took away that ability?” Loki chuckles “What if I showed you how to not only boost your powers… but to make your mind control a lot stronger, what do you think elemental” he starts to grin widely
“Are you insane? You’re not gonna take my powers away. And even if you try to, you know what I’m capable of to defend myself” you threaten him
Loki seems slightly irritated at your remark “So hostile aren’t you elemental? “ he smiles “And how do you know that that I don’t have the power to take it?” he starts walking towards you slightly
“I don’t know, and I don’t trust you either” it makes him laugh
“I don’t think that you have any choice elemental…if you do not do what I ask you to I’ll simple take it from you” he smirks and walks over to you. You can feel the presence of his mind control powers growing
You smile widely “You sure about that?” you askand start manipulating him again, but this time stronger
He falls to the ground in pain “Agh!! What… are you… doing elemental? Stop!!” Loki seems in a lot more pain this time
“This is nothing compared to what I could do to you if you try to take my powers, and don’t think I don’t have the ability to” you say to him, your jaw clenching
He touches his head in pain “S-s-stop it!!” Loki struggles to try and speak as you still had control of his mind. He seems to be in a huge amount of pain, this was a lot more intense than before
I stop it “Do you get my point Loki?”
He starts feeling a bit better, but seems very irritated at you. Then he gets up and dusts himself off and smile “How about we get to your present?”
I nod, waiting for him to tell something, hoping it’s not something stupid
“Okay elemental, now that you know I have some special technology here. Loki smirks and walks over to…a strange looking collar
“What is that?” you say suspiciously
He giggles a bit “This, elemental, that will revolutionize your powers. This collar will boost your mind control abilities with a boost of your elemental powers” Loki smiles “I just need you to wear this collar and your powers will grow”
“Well, we have a problem now” I make a grin “Cause I’m not gonna put that on” I smile at him
He sighs and smiles “I’ll make sure you put it on elemental. Don’t you want your powers to increase in strength? I know you do”
“No, I don’t. I’m okay with my powers being like this” I smile at him
He smiles and comes closer to you “Elemental, you have to trust me. I am giving you the chance of a lifetime. To boost your powers and even to help you control your powers fully. I’ll help you achieve things that you never thought were possible”
“That’s another problem, I don’t trust you, besides if it isn’t dangerous put it on you neck”
He grins “Me? Why should I? I’m a God, my powers are as strong as they can get. It is safe, just put in on and I’ll give the key” he seems very eager to have you put the collar on
“No, I’m sorry but I’ll go. Thanks for showing me…this” you say and then start walking to the door, wanting to get the hell out of there
He reaches out and puts his hand on your shoulder gently “Elemental, I can’t let you go, you could tell someone or the avengers could see it. I cannot risk it” his grip turns tighter holding you in place. You can feel the presence of his powers over your shoulder
“I won’t tell, let me go” your eyes turn purple because of your powers
He senses your powers as they flare up “I’m sorry elemental, I’ve tried to be fair with you… but I can’t let you go. You will be wearing that collar and you will serve me” he seems to be getting mad
“I said no” you control Loki, making it impossible for him to move
He tries to move but he can’t. He looks surprised and horrified. He seems to be trying to get your mind control off. A few moments later you stop it
He is very angry “What are you doing elemental??!! Don’t you dare do that again. Loki grabs your arm tightly and looks at you serious. I need that collar on you elemental, I need it “ his grip in your arm get tighter
“Well, I would prefer that it was your hand what is on my neck” you seductively, kind of controlling him
He blushes slightly “Oh…well if you insist elemental” he smiles slightly and puts his hand gently on your neck. Then leans in closer and whispers in your ear “You know Elemental…you have a lot more power than you think” he leans closer to you
“I know” you whisper in his ear and with your powers you push him, making his back crash on a wall
“What are you doing elemental” His mood changes “Oh, what would you do if I did something much more intimate with you?” Loki smirks as he speaks seductively
“You really think that you’re…seductive voice was gonna work on me?
He smiles “Maybe, but I bet there are other ways to seduce you. I know that your body…is as beautiful as the gods” he says while looking at you up and down “What if I tried getting a bit more…intimate with you in other ways elemental? Would that get you to comply with me?”
“No, for that I would go with your brother, lo looks nicer than you” you say teasing him
He smirks “Oh, I’m hurt. I see, you are sucker for the nicer gods” you nod “Well elemental you aren’t going to escape my grasp. I need you, I need your powers to achieve my future plans” Loki stares at you. He gets closer to you again and leans next to your ear “I know a lot of ways to seduce you elemental and I know for certain that there is a way to do it”
“ You don’t know everything Loki, and I can assure you that I won’t let you use my powers to achieve your little stupid plans” you say to him
He chuckles and leans in “Oh but I know there is a way…I just have to find it. All you need is…a little temptation to bring out your true nature” Loki smirks and leans back, he looks at you with a smile
“Really?” you say innocent “and what is that?”
He walks closer and whispers “Oh elemental…all I need to do is find your weakness, your true desires. Then I’ll have under my control” Loki seems to be having fun talking to you in like this and you’re starting to like it too
“Well, I assure you, that you won’t find them” you raise a mental shield
His smirk grows wider, making you a bit nervous, but you hide it “If I find your weakness you will be mine, and I will find it elemental. You are a unique one elemental, even I can’t understand you completely, you are a mysterious one. When I find your weakness this little shield will be nothing”
“You’re not the God of Magic, your powers were taught to you, I was born with them, they’re more powerful”
“I know elemental, I know your magic is more…natural but you do not realize how powerful I am. I may not be the God of Magic but I am a god of the same tier” he leans in again and whispers to you “You know, I’ve been wanting to tell you this, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”
“I know, and you know what Loki?” you say charmingly and put your hands on his chest “I am also very clever and there is no way I would fall in your little games”
He smiles and looks at you “You’re much more intelligent than I thought, and I know that you won’t fall in my games, but do you wanna know why I keep trying to seduce you? Do you wanna know why I find you so tempting?”
You chuckle and smile at him softly “Why?”
“You may be beautiful and very clever, but I like something else too more than your beauty and intelligence” he whispers seductively in your ear “wanna know what are they?”
“Yes, that would only boost my ego” you say smiling
“Let me tell you…your hair, your eyes, your lips. They all fascinate me. I go mad over you. This outfit you’re wearing? I fucking love it, so tight so it embraces your curves, you breasts and your hips so amazingly, you’re absolutely beautiful elemental” Loki stares at your outfit a bit too long
“Everything you said? I already knew it, I’ve heard so many times, I have so many men on their knees for me. But I admit that it sounds so much better from your lips” you touch his lip with the of your fingers, making him feel nervous
He leans even more “You have men on their knees for you?” he chuckles “And how do you make them kneel before you?”
“I do nothing, they just kneel, I don’t even need to use my powers”
“I must confess elemental…I think I’m on my knees now” Loki is looking at you with an attractive smile. He gets closer to you and whispers “What would you have me do y/n?
I smile at him “First I would have to see you on your knees to believe it”
He chuckles and then gets down on his knees while his gaze is focused on you “Is this okay y/n?”
“More than okay Loki” you say and put your hands in his hair
He looks up to you “Is this what you wanted elemental? To have me kneeled for you? What do I get out of this darling?”
You are enjoying this a lot “You get this view of me, isn’t it enough for you?” you said innocent and take his chin making him look at you
“Oh believe me, I love this view, you can watch me being in my knees all day, but you know…I want something in return my dear” he says while he stares at you like a puppy
I smile at him “And what that would be Loki?”
He looks you up and down “you know…a little treat”
I giggle “You have to say what you want, ask for it” you caress his face
“I want a kiss y/n. Is that much to ask for? Will you give me a kiss?” he bites his lip as he stares at you, waiting for an answer
“Umm, you’ll have to earn it Loki” I say teasing him
He chuckles “You confidence is so attractive” he gets up moves closer to you “you know what? I accept your challenge. What do I have to do to earn that kiss?” His eyes are fixed on you
I laugh a bit “I’m not gonna tell you, that wouldn’t be fair don’t you think?”
“Oh such a cruel game you’re playing. What am I gonna do to get that kiss?” you smile at him “I know you’d like to play the dominant, but don’t forget who the real god is y/n, the chase is on, I’ll play if you will”
“I’ll play, and I may not be a goddess but you were the one who kneeled” I chuckle
“You have a very high self worth, but I can change that. Do you know what I could do to make you feel more…submissive?” your bodies are touching and his arms wrapped around you
“I’m telling you right now, the idea of being the submissive one is not very attractive to me you know” I put my hands on his chest
He smirks “But do you know how it feels? It is very appealing my dear” he rubs your arm “I can teach, I can teach you the beauty of it”
“Well, I guess I’ll never know what it feels will I?” I smile widely
“I guess not” Loki continues rubbing your arm, but it turns into a grip “I could teach you so much, so many things elemental” Loki smirks
“I don’t have to learn anything from you Loki” you take his hands off you
“Oh, are you gonna finally submitted to me darling” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear
“Me?” I chuckle “Never”
Loki whispers “If only you would let me” he seems to not wanna give up, he’s still trying to seduce you
“Not gonna work” you say in a singsong voice, smiling
“Elemental, it isn’t the seduction what it’s difficult, it’s you. You’re making it difficult. You are just making me want you even more”
“Good, it’s my specialty” you smile
“You’re like a game to me. And I love games. And I will win this game, you’ll see” he puts his hands on your hips
You lean till your noses are almost touching “You seem so sure about it” then you step back, making him flustered “but that won’t happen”
“Please darling, don’t leave, don’t leave me like this. My desire for you is much bigger now. Please allow me to get to know you better”
You put your arms around his neck “I don’t think that’s a good idea, you know why? Because it will give you advantage, and we don’t that do we?” you touch his nose
“You’re such a mean one. But I like it, I like it a lot” Loki grabs you from behind “You can’t go anywhere elemental, you aren’t going to leave me like this” Loki’s grip tightens a bit
“Oh, but I absolutely will” you get off his grip, now I’m gonna work, I have things to do” you say walking to the door
“Ok, you win. But I won’t give up, I will have you and you will be mine”
“Yeah sure, by the way, I always win” you say and you go, leaving him looking at the window, feeling frustrated
“You can’t escape me y/n, I’ll see you again” he says looking at the window, and he seems to be planning something…
#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#sub!loki#loki fanfic#loki x yn#loki fanfiction#loki odinson#loki marvel#loki odinson x reader#loki#loki x you#loki laufesyon x reader#loki layfeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x y/n#tom hiddleston#tom hiddelston loki#tom hiddelston imagine
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8: Preparations and anticipations
Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. Previous Next
It's early in the morning back in the living room. You're seated once again on a sheepskin close to the fire, and Dren has spent most of the morning rummaging around his storage and seemingly sorting his items.
He’s been climbing all over the room left and right - a little slower than usual, after your stern reminder to be mindful of his injuries - and pulling out different knickknacks from holes in the ceiling and walls you hadn’t even noticed were there.
"Did you manage to find out what you're going to do with your off-world business?" Dren asks, perfectly content sideways and up high. He’s holding up some sort of tough straw, inspecting them carefully with a frown.
You swallow a mouthful of oats - desperately missing any taste at all - and reiterate to him what the barkeep told you. “Marketplace, early in the morning after half and full moons. Find a red tent, and talk to the harpy.”
Dren’s mandibles click as he exhales in annoyance, picking out several strands.
"I've heard of that harpy," he grimaces. "I was not aware she frequented here. She’s supposedly powerful, but she uses magic just for fun."
"Is that bad?"
"It is if you're too enthusiastic about it. One wrong move and she will destroy the entire marketplace."
You raise a slightly judgmental eyebrow at him, as he did that himself barely a day ago. He catches it and averts his gaze, a little sheepish.
"Granted, I had something more pressing than 'fun' on my mind," he mutters, and climbs down.
"After a half or full moon," you repeat, letting him off the hook. "Do you know when the next one is?"
"A week from now is a full moon," he offers. He folds his legs and sits down, laying out the strands in front of him, sorting them by length. He nods at your breakfast. "In any case, we will need to get more supplies to keep you better sustained if you are to stay here for the time being. You can't live on only that."
"Probably not," you sigh, moving the pitiful porridge around in the cup. "But we're going to run into the same issue as last time. I don't want you to leave the eggs at risk because of me."
He smiles. "I know. And thank you for your concern. This is why we're bringing them this time," he says, nodding at the tough straws he's now rapidly tying together with practiced ease.
You watch him weave for a minute, hands moving so quick you almost can't keep track of which thread is going where. Pretty quickly he's managed to create a starting point for what you assume will become some sort of basket.
Wait.
"Bringing them? How is that in any way safer?" you argue.
“It's not, exactly," he agrees, "but it's the better option in this case. 'Safer' is where-ever the two of us are present.”
You scoot over to sit next to him, slightly mesmerized by the process of his work. “I guess so, but what if something happens out there again? It didn’t exactly go swimmingly yesterday.”
“Yesterday was ill planned. I left in a hurry and did what I could to ensure them here, because I did not know what to expect outside. We have time to rectify that now. If we run into trouble, I will now trust you to protect them while I take care of it,” he says, eyes still on his work.
While the fact he feels he can entrust them to you is moving, you’re still not sure it’s a good idea. "Seriously Dren, if it's only for a week I can-"
"No," he chuckles, gently cutting you off. "Even if you could, we're going to run out in any case. I will not have my guest starving, and I will not leave my young again. This way, I can keep my eyes on all of you at the same time."
He turns the humble beginnings of his work around to carefully inspect it for a moment. "Besides, since there will be two of us, I have an actual opportunity to stock up on some things. I've been having the oddest craving for dried fruits these past few days."
It is true, there's not really any good options here. You do unfortunately need to eat.
Dren probably isn't letting you go get supplies on your own in any case after what has just transpired, and you'd be lying if you said you're entirely comfortable doing it yourself anyway.
Even if it turns out Morgan really is dead.
Something prickles uncomfortably under your skin at the thought, and you forcefully will it away.
"Can we even go back to the marketplace after all of this?" you ask to distract yourself. "We didn't exactly leave it in a good state."
"Yes," Dren says, shrugging. His lower body absentmindedly taps its front legs, claws clicking on the floor. "Who would stop us?"
“Fair point.”
Still, it feels odd to just nonchalantly wander back into the place that was just destroyed because of you. And even odder to force Dren back there after he just got hurt.
You glance over at him, calmly weaving the thread in his hands, the bruises and scrapes littering his body still looking raw and very visible. He’s still partially covered in web for the particularly gnarly ones.
Dren catches you looking, and takes note of your apprehension.
"Ah, don't feel guilty. This isn't the first time a custodian skirmish has ended poorly for that place. There's procedures for that. By now everything will be back in a regular state anyway," he reassures you.
"That's some efficient carpentry," you joke. "The entire plaza was wrecked."
"Magic," he leaves it at, smiling at you.
“And what about you? You’re still injured.”
“I am, but a good nights’ rest always helps,” he says. “And I’ll have another before we go tomorrow morning. I’ll be fine. These little marks are nothing to worry about.”
You cog an eyebrow at him. “Dude, your leg was literally torn open and oozing.”
“That’s why I have eight of them. Come now, I didn’t even have to tear it off to regrow.”
“Tear it-!” you protest, incredulous.
Dren laughs. A leg curls around where you’re sitting, and the movement seemed so natural you’re not entirely sure he’s aware he did it. Regardless, it sort of makes you want to lean further into him.
“Now look who’s a – what was that word you used? A ‘worry-wart?’” he teases.
“Sure, sure, I’m a worrywart too,” you huff, glancing at the clawed, hairy appendage at your side. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”
You feel the tough carapace of his leg brushing against your back and freeze. Dren eyes you with a very soft expression, but there’s certainly fondness in the look. He’s completely still for once, just keeping the silence for a bit.
“..you good?” you ask to break it, avoiding the fluster that’s creeping up on you.
Dren hums in thought, still just looking at you. “I’m quite alright.”
He returns his attention to the thread in front of him, resuming his weaving. “We’ll need something to trade when we get to the marketplace. Luckily I have a lot of spare items lying about. There's been an oddly large opportunity to collect the past year."
Collect, you inwardly cringe. That's one word for how he gets his stuff. It’s little whiplash reminders like this that brings you back into the reality that Dren is not only an anxious, protective and sweet arachnid who lives in a cave.
Better not think too hard on it, or you'll just make yourself nauseous.
Speaking of nausea -
"When I met Morgan, I saw them use some sort of blue crystal for payment," you share. "Let's just hope the common-folk don't have that as a preference, then."
"A blue crystal?" Dren asks, bewildered. "I did not realize they had started using those for trading. I may be behind on current trends."
Come to think of it, that crystal Morgan gave the barkeep does seem familiar. "Dren, don't you have an entire room in the cave basically full of those?"
He stares ahead a moment in realization. "Huh. I suppose I do. I just thought they were pleasing to look at when I dug them out."
You remember the inside of one of the cave openings he showed you during the storm, full of the sparkling blue sheen. "I think we're good, wares wise."
"And I think I know why there was a sudden influx of trespassers the past year," he muses.
You spend most of the day preparing for the trip back. Dren carefully weaves a basket large enough to comfortably house his eggs, and spends a lot of time fuzzing about it and webbing up its interior. He makes sure it's structurally sound and very soft internally, so nothing can happen to whatever is nestled inside of it.
He remains seated most of the time he works, most likely saving his strength and resting up from the vicious fight yesterday. He seems chipper, though, all things considered, throwing warm glances, small jokes and pleasantries your way whenever you pass him by as you do your end of the tasks.
Said tasks includes picking out items that you won’t have use for, and sorting them in different piles. You put things back in the places you can reach, and the ones you can't, you leave for Dren to put back later.
Once that's done, you venture to the cave full of blue crystals, using a small pickax you found among the assorted tools Dren has collected, to chip some out. It takes some time and effort, but you manage to collect a small bunch to keep in the satchel at your side.
You pause as you spot your home clothes still inside of it, faintly wondering if anyone back home have started looking for you.
They must have at this point. You wonder how they will feel when they realize you're nowhere to be found, as it would seem those superstitions you heard when you first moved there proved to be correct. And now, you're just fuel for that story to continue. What happens to that story when you get back and reiterate your experience?
If you get back, that is. You can only hope you’ll have a better shot at knowing for sure in a week.
You bring the clothes to your face and breathe in, the smell of your home engulfing your senses. It's odd that you've come to a point where you can actually identify it - usually your own scent isn't too noticeable to you.
But you wont be needing those at the moment. Sentimentality can wait until you’re certain anything is actually lost. You fold them, and leave the blue cave to store them safely in the back of your sleeping pod. Right now, they’ll just weigh you down.
Afterwards you return to the living room, but you don't see Dren anywhere, neither the basket. Perhaps he's gone to check on his eggs.
You pull out a cup to get a drink of water and sit down, muscles sore from today’s work and needing a rest. You lean back and admire the swirly patterns running across the ceiling, closing your eyes to the gentle sound of fire warming the room and filling it with a soft glow.
We’ll need to refuel the lanterns soon, you make a mental note to inform the guy who can walk on the ceiling. You’re lucky he even thought to keep any around, and that he keeps it up for your sake. As he does with a lot of other things.
You understand the motivation better now, though it’s odd to have Dren throw his need to care on you, a random passerby who just happened to stumble upon him. From what you've learned, supposedly you should count yourself lucky he got to you first.
But why does he care so much, if he knows you wont be here for long? He’s content to let you go on your merry way, despite how difficult it seemingly is for him to split from you. He cares so much because that’s what he has been naturally programmed to do. Are you taking advantage of that?
He said it himself. He only shelters you because of what you are.
But the way he engages, talks to and looks at you, god when you’re being stared at by four black eyes at a time in that odd way he does - it’s difficult to look away. Like he doesn’t let you, like he wants you to see just how much he likes to focus on you. How much he wants to connect.
No strings attached.
Then why all of this effort?
Or perhaps you are just overthinking things, and it really isn’t more complicated than he’s a little lonely down here, and likes having a guest to talk to. Who could blame him?
You sit for a while, alone with your thoughts. At one point you start dozing a bit, perhaps this day took more out of you than you realized. You've definitely spent a few hours on all of the preparations, but you're still not sure what time it is, the constant darkness not offering any clue. Perhaps you should get into the habit of checking outside, and let the sun guide you. If anything it will help distract you form your current thoughts.
You grab hold of the webs leading to the tunnel that brings you to the 'window', and start climbing to have a look.
It's already dark outside again, and you smell the cool evening air brushing against your face hidden behind the rocks. You breathe it in for a bit, ignoring the subtle claustrophobia. Staring out from beneath the rocks, it can sort of feel like being trapped underground.
Not trapped, you remind yourself. You can go outside whenever you darn please.
You’re about to turn back, when something out to corner of your eye catches your attention, instantly putting you on alert. Something is moving out there.
Hidden further away in the gloom, in between the rustling trees, something big with gangly limbs ventures quietly. It’s partially obscured by the dark, and you can’t make it out completely. And yet, your breath hitches in your throat.
The dull ache in your chest, that had until now gone unnoticed, suddenly increases tenfold. Your heart starts hammering, struggling as if being forcibly pulled at. The sudden pain makes you audibly gasp.
And the entity outside halts. Its face snaps in your direction, staring straight into you despite how well you’re hidden.
Its eyes are red, and the look sends terror down your spine.
You tumble backwards, almost rolling back down the tunnel before you get a grip on the soft webbing. You haul yourself down and away, feeling cold sweat break out. The further you run, the harder to pull in your heart, like a hook is tearing at it and you're the fish trying to escape.
You stumble out back into the living room, heaving for breath, the heat of the fire doing nothing to alleviate the freezing chill in your bones.
What the fuck was that? It’s couldn’t have been them, could it?
It takes a few minutes before the pull diminishes, and the ache settles. You lean back against the wall, feeling the soil warmed from the fire, running under your fingers over the gentle swirly patterns carved into the floor. Letting the feeling remind you you're still in your body, and your heart is right where it needs to be.
And then it's gone. Everything is quiet again.
Eventually, you gather yourself and stand up, shaking it off. You stoke the fireplace, put some logs on it and chug a cup of water to drown the feeling.
"You've been quiet this evening. Are you worried about tomorrow?" Dren asks.
You’re back at the sleeping pods, settling in to get some rest. Tonight Dren decides to call it quits early as well, given the trip tomorrow will have to be conducted well in advance of dawn.
You lie flat on your back staring up into the patterns running across the ceiling of your pod, illuminated by the faint glow of your lantern. What you should tell him?
You are alright at the moment, just a little tired and sore. While the experience was intimidating, you don't want to make Dren worry over nothing - he worries enough as it is.
On the other hand, if you did see what you’re afraid you saw, he should know about it. Keeping him out of the loop of potential danger seems counterproductive if he’s supposed to be helping keeping you alive. You brace yourself for the interrogation you're about to cause.
"I had a small scare earlier,” you reply. “Spotted something moving outside while I was checking the time.”
You can practically feel Dren snapping to attention in the pod above yours, and you're thankful he can't see your partially amused face at the instant reaction.
To his credit, he tries not to sound alarmed when he speaks in a very alarmed manner. “Oh?”
“At ease,” you chuckle at him. “Nothing happened. I just spotted someone moving about, and they kind of – I guess they reminded me of Morgan.”
“..I see.”
“But I’m not sure. I don’t really see what they would be doing out here.”
You can hear a quiet chitter escape him. "Many things live in these woods. It could have been all manner of beasts and animals. Common-folk venture here as well," he offers. "Was there anything in particular that intimidated you about the thing you saw?"
You sigh through your nose. “The eyes. They were red. And my chest – I don’t know, I think I started panicking a little. It went over pretty quick, though.”
He’s quiet for a beat, contemplating. “Why did you wait until now to tell me?”
“It seemed a little on the nose to bring more worries up than necessary. We’ve got enough to deal with right now. Especially since nothing really happened.”
There’s movement above you, unraveling of limbs and scraping across the surface of the walls. Suddenly Dren’s torso is visible, peeking out upside down and peering down at you through the opening of your pod.
“Whether something ‘happened’ or not is irrelevant. If you are uneasy, I would like you to inform me so I can help you,” he says gently. “This is important. If you are worried about something, I want to know about it.”
The completely honest altruistic way he talks is almost enough to throw you off loop. So worried about you, always on guard and in tune. If it was anyone else, you might have found it suffocating. But he’s so earnest about everything he does, it’s difficult not to lean into it and let him do it.
“I’m worried about a lot of things.”
He hums, pleased. “Enlighten me?”
It’s not exactly easy to bring your troubles to the surface and speak them on command like that. Worries of your home, of your stay here, your odd relationship with him that is so difficult to pinpoint. Worried for your life, your role in this world and this odd slight pressure in the middle of your chest that just. Won’t. Quit.
But Dren is, as always, eager to help your carry your burdens, as he calmly looks at you and waits for you to speak.
You sigh, deciding to take his encouragement for what it is; genuine concern for your well-being. “Are we sure they’re actually gone?” you ask.
“No,” he admits. He thinks for a moment, and then adds with a growl: “But if they come near again, I will not hesitate to ensure that they will be.”
The comment should put you at ease. It should be a reassurance; you know for a fact Dren intends to make good on that promise. But the fact that he's able to do so, and presumably with ease, brings the same subtle nausea back.
Something in the corner of your mind speaks, unbidden and unwelcome; He’s dangerous as well. Why are you putting your faith in a someone you barely know?
Because he’s putting his faith in me, you hiss back internally, strangling the thought.
"Thank you. I think I'll go to sleep now," you say, doing your best to send Dren a reassuring smile.
It doesn't make the worried furrow of his brow vanish, but he doesn't press you. He nods, and retreats back into his own sleeping space. "Get some sleep. We'll have to leave early tomorrow."
#colderwriting#monster x reader#drider#gn reader#monster lover#monster boyfriend#drider x reader#monster romance#exophilia#hhh took some time getting this out#hopefully lifeTM things will calm down a bit so I can get some peace to just write again
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Queen of my pitiful soul - James Patrick March
you can see the next chapter here
I. Piercing gaze under penumbra
The week had been long. I knew it would be exhausting, a sudden change with no forewarning. But I did not expect such intensity. Well, I suppose I had it coming. May my stubbornness be cursed.
The company I had called home for several years closed its doors in the city. Yet, management saw value in me and offered two options: transfer to a branch or face unemployment. Oh, yes, I could have continue working there. Times have changed. In 2022, many companies have embraced the idea of working from home and even flexible schedules. However, technology has never been my strong suit and, to be honest, it holds little interest for me. Is there something about the internet that cannot be done in the flesh?
This is what I told my dearest loved ones as I bid them farewell. Little did they know that I was in great danger. As it drew closer, I knew that I could not turn back or remain standing idly by. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to run, to escape the impending threat that loomed before me. My heart pounded with fear, but I steeled myself for what was to come. I would not let this danger defeat me. I would not let it consume me.
I must also confess that this opportunity fell into my lap at the ideal moment and provided a convenient excuse to burry that place - and my past - as deep as possible. In any case, it was not in my nature to remain stationary. And so, I made my decision. But it was a radical move, and upon further contemplation, perhaps I was not ready for it.
It was mid-September, the temperatures were starting to drop and the smell of autumn was already present in the air. The cold wind hit me with force before I got into the taxi, causing me to shiver and eventually sneezes through my sensitive nose. It was already clear that I was impatient with the traffic and with the driver who almost got us under trucks a few good times, due to his lack of attention on the track and the excess of it in the rearview mirror.
The man could not take his eyes off me, like a predator eyeing its prey, stripping me with his gaze. I was used to stares, thanks to the alluring force that embraced the boundaries of my body and also due to my own beauty, it was routine. But an unusual wickness overpowered the taxi driver's face, I could see the face of a demon - ironic. The mere presence of him caused a fire to ignite within me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something about him was off. Was he even who he claimed to be? Or was there something more sinister lurking beneath the surface? A normal person would never see such inhumanity with such cleverness, however, I was far from ordinary.
At times, when we stopped at the stoplight, he would turn back to stare at my legs with such a hateful look that it seemed capable of lifting my skirt a few centimeters. As I came to understand that he was, in fact, just a deeply flawed human and not some supernatural entity, I felt no fear - it was he who should have been trembling in terror at the thought of facing me. Rather, I would later discover that his repulsive behavior had brought to the surface a desire I thought I had buried forever ages ago.
The sudden vibration of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. 'Estelle', the screen read. Mother. I counted 15 seconds in my head, hoping the call would drop before I had to answer. Of course, that was not to be.
"I am well [...] yes, Mother, it is excellent here [...] no, you may not come."
The call was mercifully short. After all these years, she remains concerned with the trivialities of the mortal world. In any case, it reminded me of a nostalgiciac time that brought a smile to my lips. A time when I was not Melinda - and I would've never dreamed of being.
As the summer sun began to set, its beauty was undeniable. However, in the city of Los Angeles, the heat can be unbearable and bring out the worst in people, causing tempers to rise and conflicts to erupt. My journey was filled with the sounds of honking and insults from other drivers in the congested traffic.
Finally arriving at my destination, I stepped out of the dirty taxi and was greeted by a dark purple sky and a hotel sign that was flickering and making a buzzing noise with its broken letters.
I stood before the very gates of hell.
HOTEL CORTEZ
As I made my way through the opulent lobby, my eyes were drawn to the stunning Art Deco aesthetic that adorned the space. The rich burgundy hues of the armchairs and small tables exuded luxury, and the gold and black edges added a touch of elegance. The grand chandeliers hanging from the ceiling only added to the splendor of the room, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of envy at the thought of calling such a lavish space home.
I knew in that moment that I had arrived in a place of exceptional sophistication. Though I was tired to the bone after a long and trying week, I was determined to treat myself to a bit of indulgence and pampering. As I stepped over the threshold, I felt the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders, if only for a little while.
The bar was empty except for one person - an unusual occurrence on a Friday evening after work. The dim light made it impossible for me to see their face. All I saw was a tall, slender figure with their back turned, dressed in a shadowy garment. I approached cautiously, taking a seat at the bar. It wasn't until the person turned around and came face to face with me that I was able to get a good look at them. In that instant, one hand went to their chest while their eyes widened and the other palm covered their open mouth in shock - revealing their dramatic nature. The sight made me silently laugh, not because I found it funny, but because of the fabulous diva before me.
"Don't scare me like that!" the lady shouted.
She was adorned in a long, navy blue evening gown adorned with shimmering sequins that made a delightful racket as she moved. A white turban was perched atop her head, the fabric arranged in such a way that it revealed glimpses of her silver-gray scalp, visible beneath the shaved strands that were just starting to grow back. Her eyes were smoky, matching the shade of her dress and lined with Egyptian kohl. Her lips were painted with a bold red lipstick that barely showed on her thin lips and her nails were painted an enormous silver. She was magnificent. The confidence radiating from her was seductive.
"I'll have whatever you have." I gave the perfectly dressed woman behind the counter a tired smile, both of us with curious eyes.
She served me in silence, watching me in the same way that I watched her. I was certain that our relationship would surprise me, and I eagerly awaited it.
"I'm Liz." She said after a long moment of silence, simply looking at me with interest. The woman turned her back, searching through the shelves for a glass like mine to pour herself a drink as well. "And you, Melinda, are a beauty for our guests."
The revelation came as a shock to me. I had foolishly believed that no one in this hotel had taken notice of my presence or even my name - not even her. That's how things were meant to be kept, that's how I had intended them to remain. However, I was naive to think that I could go unnoticed anywhere. I took a deep breath, gazing at the remaining amber liquid that she had poured for me and affected a look of surprise, before downing it all in one go. I forced my lips into a slight smile. While I valued discretion, I couldn't deny the pleasure of being flattered.
Eventually, the establishment filled with other patrons and Liz left to attend to them.
From the moment I stepped through the doors of this building, I felt a pair of eyes fixed upon me, following my every move. It was no different at that very moment. A week had been more than enough time for me to realize one of the reasons this hotel was so peculiar: it was home to more of the dead than the living. And I knew exactly who was accompanied by vital energy and who was not. Tragically, few souls were willing to reveal themselves to me, it was said due to my nature. But he was not afraid. In fact, he stayed dangerously close. A considerable part of me longed to see the face of the man who watched me day and night.
I undid my hairdo, unbuttoned a few buttons on my blouse, and slipped off my heels, leaving them beneath the bench. Several hours passed in silence as I took one dose after another that Liz brought to me.
As I was left to my own devices, my thoughts inevitably turned to the issue I had been avoiding for weeks, desperately trying to distract myself with petty tasks like work and moving. I even found myself picking at the nail polish on my fingers, a nervous habit I thought I had left behind. Desperate for some form of comfort, I frantically searched my bag for my pack of cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply as the cancerous smoke filled my lungs. Anxiety twisted in my chest like a vice, causing me to wonder if I would ever be able to escape this predicament I had found myself in.
Being immortal does not mean one is impervious to all harm.
"What's worrying you so much?" My thoughts were interrupted by the woman from earlier. She had moved so stealthily that I barely noticed her approach. Now, she had poured herself a glass and was leaning on the counter, eyeing me with an empathetic gaze.
"Work," I lied without hesitation, rolling my eyes and pretending that this was indeed the cause of my worries. There was no need to expose my true concerns to this woman, especially as I had only just met her a few minutes ago.
She raised her eyebrows and pulled a bench over to sit down, never taking her eyes off of me. My short, curt answer cut the mood, making it clear that I did not wish to discuss the matter further.
"What a beautiful and sweet voice you have..." She commented out of nowhere. "I can tell you're not from Los Angeles."
"I am most grateful for the compliment," I said, smiling softly at the young woman. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I, too, am a singer, though perhaps not a professional one. But I have a great love for it all the same."
As the hours passed and the crowd thinned, I found myself alone with Liz and the bottles once again. Though I was immune to the effects of alcohol, the hours of drinking had still taken their toll on my already exhausted body. All I desired was a hot bath, some jazz music, and a cigarette in the comfort of my own room.
As I made myself at home in this hotel, I found a new sense of comfort that I had never felt before. Perhaps it was because of the other troubled beings who lived here, just like me. I knew that no matter what I did, the outside world had no power to affect my home within these walls.
I slid my credit card across the counter to Liz. Despite my exhaustion, I was determined to make it to my room and escape the chaos of my thoughts. I could tell that Liz, too, was aware of the turmoil swirling inside of me. As I placed another cigarette between my lips, I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand.
"Keep this." She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow, my gaze piercing as I looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. The flame of the lighter illuminated my face, casting shadows across my features. "The master paid your bill."
With a flick of her wrist, she gestured towards the man at the other end of the bar, whom I had not noticed was present for but a fleeting moment.
In the very second that our gazes met, I knew without a doubt that he was the owner of the hungry eyes that had been following me constantly. The penumbra only served to enhance his mysterious and inviting appearance. A bolt of electricity shot through my body at an incomprehensible speed as I quickly and involuntarily took in his entire figure, from head to toe.
He was thin, but not too thin - I could see the defined muscles of his body even beneath his tailored suit. He was tall, with jet black hair perfectly styled back. A thin mustache above his lips and the eyes, oh my, the eyes... In an immense shadowy and intriguing intensity. They pierced me with their intensity.
They were half-closed while locked onto mine. I knew it was him who had been following me, and he knew that I knew. His lack of reaction betrayed a pain that I hadn't felt in many years, and as if he had read my thoughts, his lips curved upwards into a sly smile. He slightly raised his whiskey glass in my direction as a greeting.
I tilted my head slightly to the side and shaped my lips into a sweet smile, silently thanking him. It wasn't my usual approach to approach anyone, but the fascination that he had awoken simply by showing himself was captivating. I needed to know why he had been watching me.
I quickly slipped my shoes on, eager to satisfy my curiosity and find out more about the mysterious gentleman who had caught my attention. However, when I looked up to where he had been standing, he was gone, and so was Liz.
#james patrick march#james march x reader#james march#ahs hotel#american horror story#evan peters#evan peters smut
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I gotta say something about that “hey guess why Gollum tripped” post, and I can’t cram it all into the tags while posting at work so uh here y’all go — also please note, this is my personal POV on an issue that way more articulate people have been arguing about since the 1960s, AND I’ve tried to avoid elaborate fictional terminology (so if you are also way too into LOTR, some of this will read strangely)
anyway. there’s a point in the middle of The Two Towers where Sam and Frodo, needing a guide into Mordor, encounter Gollum. Sam believes that killing Gollum is the only safe option; Frodo deliberately decides to have mercy and spare his life. to ensure that Gollum will remain loyal, Frodo does something significant: he has Gollum swear an oath to the only power Gollum truly respects — the Ring
but Gollum ends up breaking this oath, which is very bad, because Tolkien is really, really big on oaths and curses as a general theme. the best other example of this I can offer involves Aragorn. if you’ve ever wondered what was with the dead guys in Return of the King: they broke an oath they made to Isildur (then-King of Gondor) to fight for him, and he cursed them for it; Aragorn (heir to Isildur) offers to release them from this curse, and forgive their crime, if they will fight on his side. on Middle-earth, if you break an oath, You’re Fucked
(it is also worth noting that that this is also a world where the various, uh, lesser gods and goddesses verifiably interact with mortals and listen to the pleas of those who call on them. this is why, when Sam is about to get eaten by Shelob, he was able to call on the goddess of light “in a language which he did not know” and drive Shelob away: Varda [aka Elbereth] could sense Sam’s, uh, prayers, and acted through him. supernatural intervention is not only possible in this world, it happens all the time; curses, prophecies, and oaths are never subverted, though they may take a while to be fulfilled.)
so, by the time Sam and Frodo are on Mount Doom, they are at the very end of their strength. Frodo is about five seconds from fucking up the whole quest, because the Ring is a power that mortals literally cannot resist for an extended time, and things only get worse as they physically near the entrance to the mountain. and then Gollum shows back up and Frodo, almost shattered by the Ring, loses his temper:
“Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.”
once again, an oathbreaker has been cursed. but we don’t have to wait long to see things play out, because Frodo fails to destroy the Ring. in fact, he claims it for his own, only steps away from the only place it can be destroyed. which gives Gollum an opening to successfully attack him, bite off Frodo’s finger, and… trigger the fulfillment of his own curse. RIP
but let’s back up for just a moment: what if Gollum refused to swear loyalty in the first place, and Sam killed him? I’ll tell you what: no one would’ve been there on Mount Doom (if he got there unguided) to stop Frodo from seizing the Ring. Sauron, the original Evil Overlord, would’ve been able to deploy troops and take the Ring back, and all three books would’ve been for nothing. both Gollum’s broken oath, and Frodo’s angry curse, are crucial to the story, but neither can happen without Frodo’s original act of mercy in sparing Gollum’s life
here’s another quote, this time from a letter (letter 192 if you have his collected letters, which I don’t — this is from an excerpt I found) by Tolkien to a fan:
In this case the cause (not the ‘hero’) was triumphant, because by the exercise of pity, mercy, and forgiveness of injury, a situation was produced in which all was redressed and disaster averted.
having only read this letter in part, yes, my thoughts are not fully informed, and I’m willing to be wrong. but I made you scroll this far, so here is my explanation:
Gollum ultimately dies because he was cursed by Frodo, and met the conditions to “trigger” that curse. (had Gollum never broken his oath to Frodo in the first place, this could not have happened; it also couldn’t have happened if Frodo had not chosen to spare Gollum’s life. this is the point Tolkien is trying to drive home in that letter, but it’s not really what this post was supposed to be about.) the authority responsible for enforcing this curse is — the fact that this is a fictional story, one where curses are a real thing that happens. ok I’m fucking around a little bit; within the logic of the story itself, curses just sort of work as an established part of the world, like gravity or Elves being supernaturally hot. but within the story, there is an actual entity responsible for inventing gravity, Elves, and curses. and that entity is Eru, the central creator figure
so, yeah, Gollum trips off a cliff because he lives in a world where God takes oaths and curses incredibly seriously
final note: there is no bottom to the amount of weird LOTR stuff I could tell you, but like.
yeah, sure, God did it I guess, but the execution is nine times less painful for me than, say, Narnia. with Narnia, finding out the author was Christian rather took away the wonder I had felt and left a bad taste in my mouth — “this talking lion is supposed to be Jesus, like regular boring earth Jesus? not ‘you could see it that way’, but literally Jesus? now he got mad and destroyed Narnia and they’re just basically going to regular boring earth Heaven, but with talking animals? fuck this I’ve heard enough about Christianity in my life”
meanwhile Tolkien committed to the bit way harder than he needed to, so you have shit like “yeah, the world was flat until some guys tried to sail to the realm of the gods, so that they could fight those gods and become immortal. they were not successful, and Eru made the world round so no one could try that shit again”. which just has immensely more charm for me personally. I’ll shut up now
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KD’s First Annual “Top 4 Nat Sec Things I’d Burn to the Ground if I Could” (OLD ESSAY)
This "essay" was first posted on February 3rd, 2021.
It's not really an essay to be honest but it was a belated listicle for the New Year because I was feeling very burnt out (not long after I posted this I'd start throttling back my output on the essays lol).
(Full essay below the cut)
I meant to do this piece to start off the new year, before certain events distracted me – and a lot of the country and the world, apparently. But the year is still only one month old, so I think we can comfortably call it pretty new. And as is customary in a new year, folks often make resolutions on things they wish to change or work harder on in the coming year, make wishes that they hope will come true, and generally hope for what might be better or different.
It is in that spirit I offer you my own contribution of a sort:
KD’s First Annual “4 Things in National Security That I’d Burn to the Ground if I Could.”
First, a clarifying note: No, these are not threats or calls to violent revolution. When I say “burn to the ground” I mean that in a purely metaphorical sense (though I’d still say burn down the physical structures in some cases because they may have bad juju left behind but I also say we should do that only after we’ve fired everyone and they can leave with their personal items. I shouldn’t have to explain all of this in a perfect world, but we live in far from a perfect world, so I’m going to err on the side of caution.
A second note: Just because I think we should get rid of these things; doesn’t mean I don’t think we need something like them or a better version of them. In fact, I think all of these things are necessary for a country’s national defense in some shape or form. However, I think the version or versions we have of these organizations or institutions are so flawed and so beyond repair or reform at this point, that the only way that we can have anything resembling a positive version of them is to shut the existing one down and start over with a clean sheet of paper. I tend to have a similar attitude towards law enforcement, but that’s a story for another time (not fully a national security topic, but it might still cover it here if there’s any interest).
With those disclaimers and covering of my ass out of the way, let’s get on to the list:
U.S. Military Service Academies
Oh, the service academies. What distinguished graduates you have given us. From famous Civil War traitors, to rampant cheaters, to noted man of integrity and best Secretary of State of all time Mike Pompeo, and all manner of other leaders and elites – ranking from mediocre to downright awful – in between. Oh, to say nothing of all the sexual assaults the academy students mange to pack in between classes and the poisonous and harmful professional culture they perpetuate within the military’s officer corps.
But all that is ok apparently because sports ball. Sports ball, folks? Sports ball.
Now, is every graduate of a service academy an awful person? No. Are enough of them bad to justify just burning these institutions to ashes and starting anew? Yes. At least in my opinion. Is the pitiful excuse for a military leadership ethos that they instill in the officer corps bad enough to justify that as well? Very yes.
Though, the buildings themselves are nice. Maybe instead of burning the actual buildings down we should just shut the academies down and repurpose them as housing for homeless veterans, or for the refugees from the wars we’ve been waging in the Middle East for a good two decades now.
Oh, and we’ll let the Coast Guard keep their current one. They don’t really seem to be hurting anyone (as far as I know). Or the Merchant Marine, I guess. But West Point, Annapolis, and Colorado Springs? Pack your shit and move out. We’re shutting it down and starting over with something that doesn’t just churn as many rapists, cheaters, and traitors per capita and maybe creates officers who care about those under them and serving the people – not just the state. I dunno, we’ll figure out what officers and an officer culture should actually be like later – that’s an article within itself I need to write. I not only think the military still needs to exist, but we’re gonna still need officers. I feel running a military unit by committee and debate, Russian Revolution style, may not be the best idea in the world when it comes to modern warfare – especially when the bombs and the shells start falling.
Special Operations Forces
These guys are supposed to be masters of their craft in unconventional warfare, counterinsurgency, counterterrorism, and so on. Instead, the only thing they appear to be masters of is what we like to call in the biz: having a normal one.
And boy do current and former special operators ever have a normal one. Whether its spousal abuse, drug smuggling, attempting to carry out poorly planned coups in foreign countries, committing horrific war crimes in foreign countries – and then getting Presidential protection for it from Trump because he thought it should be more horrific, or just shooting up random civilians at bowling alleys here at home, nobody really compares in the skill of having a normal one like US SOF community. Really setting that bar high there, folks.
It’s always been hilarious to me that these guys are supposed to be elite badasses who supposedly make their enemies tremble in their boots and are just doing so much winning all the time – just constant winning. Yet, the wars in which they have been at the forefront of since they started, rage on with no real end in sight with them having accomplished virtually nothing except rack up the body count for all involved. If that isn’t a damming indictment of them being pretty much worthless in their current form, I really don’t know what is.
I say, shut it all down, send them all off to their second careers as Instagram influencers, and let’s go back to the drawing board. It’d give us a great chance to re-examine some concepts about SOF that we previously took for granted. Do we really need special operations force (or two, or three) for every branch of the military? Probably not. Should they be able to operate with the level of impunity and lack of accountability they do now? Absolutely not. Do we really need as many of them as the whole SOF enterprise has bloated to? Also probably not. Should they be going off and getting involved in endless forever wars of dubious legality or necessity? Absolutely not.
I say we start over, slim down, and go back to training SOF to blow up bridges to slow down authoritarian states that are invading their neighbors, or training rebel guerillas to fight back against an authoritarian foreign occupier, o rescuing hostages – stuff of that nature. Not just walking around the Middle East in Gucci gear committing war crimes and then coming back home and starting a racist coffee and/or military themed apparel company.
The Central Intelligence Agency
Do I really need to justify this one?
Like, really?
If you know anything about the CIA you should know it’s beyond saving at this point. I could list you a litany of their misdoings both at home and abroad. Literal books upon books have been written about it, and I could fill this entire article with hyperlinks to articles, documentaries, and much more describing it all. Countless stories of scandals and misconduct, such as torture, coups, assassinations and drone strikes, support of horrific violent groups and governments, and what have you – ever since its founding.
How do we solve this? Simple. Tell everyone at Langley their services are no longer required, have them pack up a cardboard box, and then literally set that cursed place on fire and let it burn until all the bad spirits have been released. Then bulldoze over the remains and, I dunno – turn it into a pet cemetery or something. Or just pour cement over it like it was a toxic waste dump.
Now, this leads to another question: do we need an intelligence capability? Well, some leftists may not be happy with this answer because the CIA has conceptually poisoned the well for them so thoroughly on this topic, but in my opinion: yes. When pull a Henry Stimson and decide that “gentlemen don’t read each other’s mail,” you’re not doing yourself any favors but you’re giving plenty to anyone and everyone who wishes to do you harm. I’ll save that discussion for an essay of its own, but while I still think we need intelligence gathering and analytical capability, I don’t think the CIA is the answer by any means. We need to start over with a new culture, new people, new methodology, and new ideology guiding it all – among many other new things.
Defense Contractors
Defense contractors have to be some of my favorite punching bags in the national security field. And why shouldn’t they be? They just make it so goddamn easy. Its all so justified. They’re either at best amoral, or at worst bordering on Dr. Evil levels of supervillainy with the role they play in fueling conflict.
But its not just the evil that makes me want to get rid of them. It’s the fact that they can’t even do their goddamn jobs right while being evil. I read defense and national security news and analysis pretty much every, and you’d be hard pressed to go more than a couple days without seeing some story about a major defense procurement program that has run into issues that will delay and almost certainly drive up the cost of the end product – if the program isn’t cancelled before you even get to production. Hell, for a while last week, we were getting at least one of these a day.
This is not new by any stretch of the phenomenon. The decades following the end of the Cold War are littered with dozens of failed acquisitions efforts that wasted billions upon billions of taxpayer dollars only to end in little to nothing to show for it. Efforts to build new amphibious armored vehicles, self-propelled artillery, stealth scout helicopters, airborne laser systems (you see now I wasn’t joking with the Dr. Evil comparison), or comprehensive plans to entirely transform the Army have all ended in failure – but not without running up hefty price tags first.
Even the programs that do get through and do get fielded often do so plagued with problems. Take the F-35 Lighting II Joint Strike Fighter for instance – the world’s most expensive weapons system in history, which despite almost two decades of development and a trillion dollars or so in funding is still plagued with both hardware and software problems – so many issues that Defense News has an entire section of its website dedicated to them.. Or the KC-46 Pegasus tanker aircraft, which the Air Force itself has called a “lemon” and that I can only describe as the defense procurement version of Sideshow Bob constantly stepping on rakes. Oh and don’t even get me started on the Navy’s Littoral Combat Ships – which someone wittier than I on twitter once aptly described as a “glorified jet ski”, which is once again having technical issues that are only the latest in a long line of problems and have led the Navy to halt deliveries.
I could go on and on with stories like this. We could also have a very detailed discussion or on why the defense industry can’t seem to do anything right since the end of the Cold War – don’t’ get me wrong, they sucked back then too, but they could least delivery a bit more regularly. We could have a debate on whether these failures and overall state of the defense industry is the result of incompetence, laziness, or willful malevolence and greed on the part of the defense contractors – my opinion is the answer is “all of the above” to varying degrees.
However, we’ll save all that for another time because it’s definitely a topic that deserves an essay of its own – or two, or three – to pack in all the detail. The main takeaway here is, is that whatever you call this disaster factory – whether its military industrial complex or defense industrial base – it’s not working. Its time for it to go.
Now I’ve built up a reputation of adding caveats at this point, so far be it from me to defy expectations at this point. Shocker: I believe we still need a capability to manufacture weapons and military equipment. However, I don’t think this should be something private sector corporations should be doing for profit. War is a racket, as Marine General Smedley Butler famously said – but it doesn’t have to be that way.
My answer? Nationalize them. All of them. Boeing, General Dynamics, Lockheed Martin, the whole lot. Nationalize them. Providing for the national defense shouldn’t be a money-making endeavor. It should be an obligation taken on by the state in order to defend its people – and that’s the key: the people. Not just protecting the institutions and certainly not just corporations and the wealthy and the elite. Competition for who gets to build what shouldn’t be about getting a paycheck, it should be for the pride of having done the best job providing the military with a tool that – while we hope we never have to use it – will be used under just circumstances to defend ourselves and others from unequivocal and clear aggression.
You want to make money? I dunno. Start a podcast with a Patreon (or an OnlyFans). But making the machines and material that are unfortunately necessary for the grim and permanently reality of armed conflict shouldn’t be where you go to become rich and powerful. Not on my watch.
That’s All Folks! (For now…)
I could go on for pages more with these – I haven’t even gotten to the National Guard yet (I bet that one might cause some interesting opinions). But I do try to keep those somewhat short and accessible, so your eyes don’t glaze over the first couple paragraphs in. I thank you for sticking with me this far in on this self-indulgent journey. I’ll be doing more of these in the future – not least because its fun (being the giant nerd that I am), but also because it gives you a bit of a preview of topics I’m planning to cover on their own in the future, as well as more of an idea of what I’m about with my own ideology and outlook.
This year may not have gotten off to the greatest start, but what were we expecting really? It can be hard not to get bummed out and black pilled somedays for sure – I struggle with it off and on. But at the end of the day, while I think things will probably get worse before they get better, I remain convinced that they can and will get better eventually. So, we might as well start planning for it now so we can get a running start when that day comes. Making a little click-bait style list gives us at least something to work off of once we get there, right?
#essay#War Takes#War Takes Essay#leftism#leftist#socialism#democratic socialism#international relations#IR#national security#national defense#international security#foreign policy#foreign affairs#listicle#war
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Lord help me, I’m going to talk about my dissertation and how it helps explain the politics of “Donald Trump”
Please, forgive me. This isn’t a “hot take”: I defended my dissertation 30 years ago, in 1992. I liked my dissertation (although I hated writing it); no one on my committee liked it, however. Least of all my supervisor. I think they passed it for pity’s sake. I try not to think about the damn thing. Ever. I can’t even remember its full title any more. Which I’m fine with.
But here we go.
In it, I argued that presidential candidates draw on certain core themes of American political culture to construct identities for themselves that served to make them recognizable protagonists in campaign narratives. The characters did work in the campaign because voters know what people “like” these characters are supposed to do, and thus the construction of a character by candidates helped supporters (and opponents) understand what the candidate believed in and would do in office. The character filled in missing details in the candidate’s message.
I argued there were two “positive” characters presidential candidates would likely seek to construct for themselves. One, the crusader, offered a moral zeal to politics and they claimed to want to transform a failed or corrupted political system. A second, the pragmatist, offered stability and effective management of what were otherwise seen as “pretty good” times.
Of course, just as candidates try to present themselves in positive ways, opponents try to present them negatively. I thus argued there were two additional, negative, characters available in American political culture, characters who opponents could use to impugn a candidate’s positive self-presentation. One was the corrupt leader, a person who, taken simply, knowingly did bad things. The other was the incompetent, someone who allowed bad things to happen but did not knowingly lead the nation into ruin or error.
I argued that candidates try to adopt one or the other positive character in their campaigns. Meanwhile, opponents try to convince voters that one of the negative characters was really the case. And, in a bit of a flip, I argued that if a candidate was *actually* corrupt (or became corrupt in office), THAT person might try to adopt the incompetent character. The idea is that it is better to be incompetent than corrupt, so, when facing charges of corruption, leaders have an incentive to claim they were duped and/or morons.
Which brings us to Donald Trump ... who just won’t go away. Trump presents himself as a crusader. He is going to Make America Great Again -- especially for white people who see the world changing around them every day. His most loyal supporters have attached themselves to this narrative as if it is their own identity: through him, they are part of the project of saving America.
Trump’s opponents, of course, see him as incompetent at the least, and corrupt at the worst. (I, personally, think they’ve got the better case, but that’s not relevant for this conversation.) This is hardly surprising, of course -- it’s just true.
Notably, however, Trump’s defenders (and Trump himself) occasionally pulls out the “incompetent” card to defend him. (Indirectly, of course.) Think of the long line of advisers he hired and fired: for Trump, he was betrayed. They mis-served him. He may have been incompetent in hiring them ... but their failures were theirs, not his. Or, in January 6, it was Mike Pence’s fault. It certainly wasn’t a corrupt plot to destroy America. Heaven forfend! Indeed, Trump the crusader wanted only to save America. If only the forces of *real* evil would let him!
So no: Trump’s people aren’t going to abandon him. They’ll explain his corruption as incompetence, and keep their eyes on the promise of the crusading vision to Make America Great Again.
At least that’s what my 30 year old, utterly ignored dissertation tells me.
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my all ; spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader
summary: “hey could i do a fic request for an x spencer? could u maybe do something with really touchstarved spencer (bc germaphobia) and him being at first too awkward to go n cuddle and then as he gains more confidence he gets much more touchy and huggy and stuff? and reader being shocked by how cuddly he is? plzplzplz? its totally ok if u dont write it but just wanted to send in the request!” 2689 words
a/n: i hope i did this justice! i love spencer reid!!!!!!!!!
masterlist
Spencer first realised how much he loves your touch after a case where he put himself directly in danger.
You ran up, flung your arms around him and pulled him against you so tightly he felt winded.
He was shocked, stunned, and everything in between, but the most important thing is that he hugged back. It felt natural, the right thing to do, and his arms felt so snug and perfect around you his heart stuttered.
You pulled back, noticed his expression, and winced despite his reciprocation, “Sorry. I just. You could’ve died, you moron. You scared me.”
All he did was give you a breathless smile and with a squeeze of his shoulders you let go, allowing him to get checked by a medic.
Spencer struggled to sleep on the jet home, plagued by the thoughts of you - you with your arms around him, how much he enjoyed how it felt.
It felt… wrong to like it as much as he did. Like, in theory, enjoying your physical touch went against his moral code – as a germaphobe, the thought of having to come into contact with anyone in any way makes him want to vomit. But, with you?
You smelt so good, even after running for God knows how long. You were so soft, yet so firm, so warm and welcoming and dear God Spencer has never wanted to touch every inch of someone so bad in his life.
The case was a rough one, so Garcia was waiting for you all with loving eyes and a pitiful smile, arms wide open for whoever may need it. Spencer instantly decides no thanks, but you swoop in and cuddle up to Garcia within seconds of seeing her.
You even place a series of kisses against her cheek, and Spencer is transported back to your hug.
If he was more like Garcia, open to any form of love as long as it’s love, would you have kissed him like that?
His pulse quickens, palms get sweaty and he has to clear his throat to bring himself back to Earth.
He can’t afford to think like that.
But your lips…
No. Paperwork? Let’s do that and not think about a colleague’s lips.
+++
You’re furious.
You told Spencer to wait for backup, to not do anything stupid or irrational and definitely do NOT go in there alone, genius!
And what did he do?
He didn’t wait for backup, did something very stupid and irrational, and definitely went in alone.
And now he’s dealing with a hefty concussion and flurry of other injuries; cuts, scratches, and bruises alike all dotted over him like he’s a connect-the-dots drawing.
The second he wakes up, you’re gonna kill him.
For the time being, you’ll gently thread your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, and watch his chest rise and fall to ensure he’s alive and breathing.
“Mmm,” A groan, “That feels nice.”
His eyes flutter open. You lean towards the table next to him, pick up the bottle of water and the jello cup, and offer him both.
“Thanks,” He says, hoarsely.
You sit back in your chair. Spencer doesn’t take his eyes off you once. Not when he drinks the whole bottle of water, or when he cracks open the jello and inhales it with one slurp.
Your brows furrow.
“You’re banned from work until you’re fully healed.”
“I’m suspended?!” He guffaws.
“No,” You shake your head, “I’m personally telling you you’re not welcome back until you’re okay.”
“I’m okay now.”
“Do a backflip, genius.”
Spencer giggles, “I can’t do that in peak physical condition, Y/N.”
“Sounds like a cop out to me. So, again, you’re banned from work until you’re fully healed.”
He considers fighting back, but then he remembers what you were doing when he woke up, what he felt when he woke up.
He was confused and, you know, in pain, but there was this tender and soft, repetitive touch that immediately eased him. His subconscious knew it was you, in all your glory and sweetness, that had stayed with him for however long, looking after him even when he wasn’t conscious to know it.
So he just keeps staring at you, spoonful of jello in his mouth.
+++
When you get to Spencer’s place, he looks around like it’s his first time seeing it – awe and wonder painted on his face.
Everything he’s doing, everything he’s going through, you’re putting it all down to his concussion.
On the way here, he told you the whole history of car air fresheners after taking a good five seconds to get a good sniff of the cherry blossom scent you have.
“Let’s get you settled in, huh?” You say quietly, guiding Spencer to his bedroom. He walks a little like a mummy, kinda stumpy and heavy, and he flops on the bed.
You give a lopsided grin as you watch him. He’s mumbling incoherently, shuffling up to the top of his bed to fall flat on his back.
He moans.
“Alright, alright,” You placate, “Let me go… gather some things.”
You don’t know Spencer’s place all that well, so it takes you a while to find even the simplest things like a glass, a flannel, a snack. You get lost in snooping around, trying not to profile him, and the one thing you deduct is his apartment is so him. So Spencer, so lovely and comforting and a little odd.
You can’t get enough.
There’s a weak call from his bedroom: “Y/N?”
“Coming!”
He hasn’t moved an inch from where you left him. He looks so pitiful, bruised eyes and a cut right through his lip, and you almost coo at him.
“I’m not a good cook, so I thought we could order some food later.” You hand him the water and gesture for him to drink. “In the meantime, you need to rest. Mind if I borrow a book while I keep you company?”
You turn to leave, but Spencer’s voice makes you pause.
“Could you play with my hair again?”
A part of you wants to say no, like this is some overly intimate thing he’s asking, but then you remind yourself that he’s injured, which has reverted him to acting like a sleepy child.
“Please?” He looks at you with glassy eyes and he looks adorable, “Only for a little while.”
You say nothing, sliding into bed next to him. He scoots over a little to make more room for you, curling into you before your back hits the bed entirely. One hand rests above the covers, naturally placed on his arm, thumb smoothing him back and forth. The other, the one wrapped around his head, cards through his lightly tangled hair, all warm and loving.
He falls asleep instantly and, not long after, you fall asleep, too.
You both dream of eachother and wake up blushing.
+++
Spencer’s back in work within four days. You’re working a new case the second you arrive.
There’s been a shift in your dynamic and everyone’s noticed it. No one questions it, however, because they’re all aware you looked after him while he was away, and they witnessed how worried you were when you found him, but they can’t help but ogle and whisper.
They might be federal agents, but gossip is gossip and they love it.
You’ve noticed it, too, obviously. JJ tried to tease you about it, after Spencer bought you your favourite coffee and morning muffin on the way to the precinct, but you shut her down (and yourself from thinking about it too much) by reminding her you spent several days caring for him. He’s repaying you, even though you’ve told him he doesn’t need to.
Ever heard of transference, JJ?
A shiver runs through you as you look into the interrogation room. It’s not because of the suspect, though, it’s because the AC has been turned up – a tactic Hotch promises will be worth it despite your chattering teeth.
Something’s wrapped around you, suddenly, light but cosy and adds some heat to you that you need.
It’s a cardigan. Grey, much too big for you, the sleeves falling way beyond your arms and length reaching your mid-thigh. There’s a little red heart with eyes stitched on the left breast.
It’s Spencer’s.
“You’re shivering,” Spencer chastises, seemingly appearing from nowhere, “You know, when we shiver, it’s our bodies doing the opposite of sweating – it tightens the skin and shakes the muscles, a process that conserves and generates heat. We shiver to get warm. Do you not have a coat?”
“Alright, dad,” You tease, “It’s in the conference room. I wasn’t prepared for Hotch to make the unsub an icicle.”
Spencer breathes a laugh, moving closer to reach an arm around you. His other hand presses against your bicep, his grip sturdy as he vigorously rubs up and down your arms to generate heat.
Whoa.
It certainly works. You feel hot, suddenly, but not because of the cardigan or whatever the hell he’s doing, because Spencer has voluntarily touched you and is standing so close you feel like you’re on fire from the inside out. You’re sure your heart skips a beat and you stare at him in bewilderment.
He shrugs, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, “My mom used to do that for me when I was young and got cold. I thought you’d appreciate it.”
You give a shy smile, “Yeah, I appreciate it a lot, Spence. Thanks.”
When Hotch leaves the interrogation room, he half-halts when he sees you in Spencer’s cardigan. It’s the perfect Hotch reaction, combined with the rise of an eyebrow as he walks past you to reconvene with the team.
You don’t take it off when you all walk back to the conference room, and Spencer doesn’t ask for it back.
Everyone notices. A lot of eye contact is made with many questions silently asked.
You and Spencer pretend not to notice.
+++
There’s a knock on your door at precisely 10:12pm. You check because your first instinct is if I’m about to get robbed, I’m making sure the timestamps are correct.
It’s not a robber. It’s Spencer – frazzled, wrapped up all nice and warm like a pretty present, Spencer Reid.
His nose is slightly red from the biting cold outside.
Leaning against your doorframe, you say, “Hey there,”
“Hi,” He waves.
You stare for a couple of seconds, then remember the polite thing to do is invite him in: “Come in, come in! Do you want some tea? You look cold.”
“Coffee would be great, thank you.”
You move to your kitchen, not very far from your front door, but Spencer stays put and awkwardly glances around your place. He loves it, he decides. Very you.
You notice he hasn’t moved, “Make yourself comfortable, Spence. My cat is somewhere if you want to say hi.”
He slowly moves to your couch, removing his coat, scarf and satchel as he does it. Two drinks in hand, you join him and fling your fluffy sock-clad feet onto your coffee table.
“So what can I help you with?” You ask.
Spencer takes a sip of his burning drink, “What makes you think I want something?”
“Why else would you be here? You wanna watch Grey’s Anatomy with me?”
Spencer laughs lightly. You’re right. He’s here for a reason that isn’t to watch TV that he loves to correct with you.
He’s quiet, then, and does that thing where his tongue flicks out to lightly wet his lips in nervousness.
“Something’s been going on.” He starts, ambiguously, “And it’s left me asking a lot of questions.”
Your brows furrow. It’s not like Spencer to be cryptic like this.
“Did it mean anything?” He asks, finally, turning to look at you. “Any of it?”
“Did what mean anything?”
“The.. the playing with the hair, the over-all gentleness, the cuddling.”
Your shoulders tighten up and you hope he doesn’t notice.
He does.
“Spence,” You give a fake laugh, “You were hurt and I was comforting you. Looking after you. You know, like a friend does.”
“No one else did as much as you.”
“You wanted comfort, and I’m more than happy to provide that, Spence. Everyone else was busy.”
“You took time off for me.”
You don’t have an answer for that.
You’re trying to keep the conversation light and breezy to not show your true feelings. You’re not ready for that kind of conversation, but he’s right. You used your vacation days to stay with him and care for him.. and you know you didn’t do it platonically.
“You’re my friend, Spence,” You say, voice soft.
“That’s it? That’s all it was?” He doesn’t sound angry, or hurt, maybe peeved. He won’t look you in the eyes, though.
“What else would it be?”
Spencer scoffs.
He moves away from you, hands running through his hair in exasperation when he lets out a breath.
“We cuddled, Y/N. I haven’t done that with anyone in-in years! The last person was my mother when I was ten years old!”
“That’s supposed to mean something?!”
“I-I don’t know,” He sounds exhausted, as if the complications of his emotions are taking way too much energy out of him, “But I really liked it. And I really like you.”
You look at him, then, and he’s staring back. He looks… hopeful.
“I really like you, Y/N.”
You swallow deeply.
“I tried to show you with the uh, the cardigan thing,” He scratches the back of his neck, a laugh to mock himself leaving him, “But I’ve never been good with that stuff.”
He moves closer, shifting to face you, eyes remaining locked with yours.
“Say something.” He whispers.
“I-I-“ You stutter, “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. I’ve spent the last week thinking about it non-stop.”
“Really?” You laugh in disbelief.
“Yeah!” He gives a small smile, “I-uh.. wrote to my mom about you, too. She told me that if I’m this caught up on you, you must be special. Which you are, by the way.”
“I’m special?” You grin teasingly.
“Very special.”
There’s a moment where you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he shyly asks, “Do you feel the same?”
You bite your lip. “I do. Really, I do. I’m just.. a little apprehensive, I guess.”
“Of what?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Nothing is stupid when it comes to you.”
God, he’s so infuriatingly sweet. You wish you could kiss him all over.
You might be able to, if all this goes well.
“I don’t want things to be weird if we don’t work out.” You admit, adding a shrug to appear casual. It’s not like you’ve worried about this since you realised you liked him.
Spencer tilts his head at you, “You’re already thinking about a breakup when we haven’t even gone on a first date?”
You giggle, which he returns with a smile, “I mean- I like you, Spence, and have for a while. I’ve thought about all outcomes.”
“All?”
You roll your eyes as he gives you a look, “Yes, all. I’d want us to work out but.. what if we don’t?”
He places a now warmed up hand on yours, “Well, we won’t know unless we try, right?” His hold tightens, “I’m willing to give it my all if you are.”
You look from your hands to his face, and decide yes, if there’s one risk you want to take in your life, it’s a risk that could possibly result in you spending the rest of your life with your favourite person on this planet.
So you nod.
“I’ll give you my all, and then some.”
He grins, “That’s quite the promise.”
You don’t reply, instead swinging your legs over his lap and leaning into his side to cuddle up to him. He reciprocates like it’s second nature, hand slipping from yours to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
“Wanna watch Star Trek as a mini first date?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.
You really are perfect for me, Spencer thinks.
“Yes. Yes I do.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#mine#thank u to everyone who has sent a request i promise ive seen it#i kinda hate how the confession is written but im tired n feeling d*pressed and anxious#so take it pls
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Corpse Infested
Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing
Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.
Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤
For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.
Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.
I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.
Well....not very soon by the looks of it...
I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn.
Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.
Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.
Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.
*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?
Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.
As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.
I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly.
Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.
“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.
“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“
I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.
Oh for fuck’s sake!
“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.
“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.
“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“
“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“
Oh crap, here we go.
“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!
“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.
“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.
“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“
“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.
“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.
So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?
“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.
Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.
“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.
Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him
“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“
“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.
I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.
“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“
Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”
“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.
Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.
But streaming
But sleeping properly
But having a normal life again
Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.
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maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable
yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:
oh the things we found
small TW for mentions of blood and trauma
Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.
He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"
He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.
"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.
Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.
Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.
"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.
Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.
It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.
Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.
He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.
He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.
Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.
And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.
He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.
"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."
"Is there room for one more?"
"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.
"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."
"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"
"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.
"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.
"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".
And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.
#dinluke#oh the things we left behind#thank you for that lovely question anon#I had this in my head for a long time I'm glad it's out there now#they all deserve some cuddles and happiness#also yes I made most of them the same age to fit my timeline poe and hux are the only ones who are slightly older#imagine all of them as children in the same place pure chaos#I have some more of their shenanigans somewhere down in my notes#maybe I'll get around to writing them out one day#but now I take a nap#soph andswers asks#soph writes
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Every canon Dramione moment
I have compiled here a list of every single time Draco and Hermione interacted in canon, talked about one another, or could have conceivably interacted for all your Hogwarts-era fanfic needs!
If I left anything out, please don’t hesitate to comment or DM me! There are some really obvious ones I left out e.g. the fanfic classics: prefects’ bathroom, Astronomy Tower, Black Lake, Potions lesson...
I haven’t included page numbers because every edition is different and it would be confusing. This list is intended as pinpoint references for you to check out the scene in your own books, which is why they’re not super detailed.
Enjoy!
Philosopher's Stone
Chapter 6: The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters
Harry and Draco’s altercation on the train—Hermione isn't there at the time but comes along soon after (could have bumped into him in the corridor)
Chapter 7: The Sorting Hat
Sorting Ceremony
Chapter 8: The Potions Master
Hermione trying to answer a question in potions, Draco and the Slytherins laughing at her
Chapter 9: The Midnight Duel
Draco tries to steal Neville's Remembrall at breakfast
flying lesson
Draco inviting Harry to a duel, Hermione overhears
Chapter 10: Hallowe'en
Harry receives his Nimbus Two Thousand and Draco confronts him, overheard by Hermione
Ron says something mean about Hermione after the Wingardium Leviosa lesson, she gets upset and isn't seen in the next class (could have potentially run into Draco while upset?)
Chapter 11: Quidditch
in courtyard during break
Hermione sets fire to Snape's robes during the Quidditch match against Slytherin (could have run into Draco on the way there)
Chapter 12: The Mirror of Erised
altercation with Draco after Potions
Chapter 13: Nicolas Flamel
Draco sitting behind Ron and Hermione during a Quidditch game and provoking Ron, Ron eventually tackles him and a fight breaks out between Ron, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Neville
Chapter 14: Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback
Malfoy overhears the Trio talking about Norbert at breakfast
Malfoy took Ron's book, which had a letter to Charlie asking to get rid of Norbert (Hermione could have confronted him to get the book back)
Malfoy caught by Professor McGonagall while the Trio are under the Invisibility Cloak
Chapter 15: The Forbidden Forest
Hermione keeping her head down in class after contributing to Gryffindor losing 150 points (Draco could potentially notice this?)
detention, Hermione worried about Draco and Ron when red sparks are seen
Chapter 17: The Man with Two Faces
Gryffindor wins the House Cup over Slytherin
Hermione comes top of the year (Draco is presumably second)
Chamber of Secrets
Chapter 4: At Flourish and Blotts
brawl between Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley in Flourish and Blotts
Chapter 6: Gilderoy Lockhart
Draco making fun of Harry about signed photographs in the courtyard, Hermione has her nose buried in a book
Chapter 7: Mudbloods and Murmurs
Draco calls Hermione a Mudblood for the first time
Chapter 8: The Deathday Party
finding Mrs Norris and the "enemies of the heir beware" message
Chapter 9: The Writing on the Wall
Hermione sceptical about Malfoy being Slytherin's Heir
Chapter 10: The Rogue Bludger
Hermione researching Polyjuice Potion in the library
Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch match
Hermione wanting to know how Malfoy fixed the bludger
Malfoy being yelled at by Marcus Flint for not catching the Snitch
Chapter 11: The Duelling Club
distraction for Hermione to sneak into Snape's stores and steal ingredients (the distraction is fireworks into Goyle's Swelling Solution, Draco gets hit in the face and his nose swells up)
duelling club (Harry and Malfoy, Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode—which devolves into physical wrestling)
Chapter 12: The Polyjuice Potion
Malfoy talking about Hermione to disguised Harry and Ron
"I hope it's Granger."
Chapter 13: The Very Secret Diary
students trying to catch glimpses of Hermione in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey puts up a screen
Valentine's Day, dwarves delivering cards
Chapter 14: Cornelius Fudge
Hermione was Petrified near the library
Chapter 15: Aragog
visitors barred from the hospital wing
"Pity it wasn't Granger."
Chapter 16: The Chamber of Secrets
Hermione had a ripped out page in her hand (popular fan theory that Draco ripped it out of a book and snuck it into Hermione’s things)
Chapter 18: Dobby's Reward
Hermione healed and returns to the Great Hall
Prisoner of Azkaban
Chapter 5: The Dementor
Draco and co coming to their train compartment but Lupin is there
Malfoy elbowing past Hermione to make fun of Harry for fainting
Chapter 6: Talons and Tea Leaves
Draco does a swooning impression of Harry in the Great Hall at breakfast, Hermione tells Harry to ignore him
Hermione storming away after an argument with Ron about Divination
Care of Magical Creatures lesson
Buckbeak attacks Malfoy
Hermione nervously asking if he'll be alright
Chapter 7: The Boggart in the Wardrobe
Malfoy returning to Potions, bandaged (LOTS of interaction, go read the scene)
Hermione catching up after using the Time-Turner, her bag splits
Chapter 8: Flight of the Fat Lady
Hermione and Ron going to Hogsmeade without Harry (Malfoy is also going)
Chapter 9: Grim Defeat
Sirius Black attacks the Fat Lady, all students sleep in the Great Hall
Chapter 11: The Firebolt
preparing a defence for Buckbeak with resources from the library
Chapter 12: The Patronus
Hermione avoiding Harry and Ron (spending her time in the library) because they're mad at her for telling McGonagall about the Firebolt
Chapter 13: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw
Hermione, Ron and Harry fighting after Scabbers disappears
Draco and co pretend to be Dementors at the match to spook Harry, he shoots a Patronus at them (Hermione was at the match, alone)
Chapter 14: Snape's Grudge
Hermione going down to visit Hagrid often, feeling lonely (helping with Buckbeak's case)
Chapter 15: The Quidditch Final
Hermione slaps Draco
thinking about Malfoy and lost track of things, forgot to go to Charms
Hermione storms out of Divination
Gryffindor/Slytherin tensions high, scuffles breaking out in the corridors
Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Final
Chapter 16: Professor Trelawney's Prediction
Draco lost his swagger after the Quidditch Final but regained it to brag about Buckbeak's upcoming execution
Hermione's fear is failure (potential fanfic scene where we learn Draco’s fear?)
Goblet of Fire
Chapter 8: The Quidditch World Cup
Malfoys and Weasleys encounter each other in the top box
Chapter 9: The Dark Mark
Death Eaters at the World Cup, Draco warning Hermione to keep her bushy head down
Chapter 11: Aboard the Hogwarts Express
overhearing Draco tell his friends about his father wanting him to go to Durmstrang
Draco comes to their compartment, hints about the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione tells him to go away
Chapter 13: Mad-Eye Moody
Blast-Ended Skrewts lesson
Draco taunting Ron with a Daily Prophet article about his father
Draco turned into a ferret by Moody
Hermione saying Malfoy could have been hurt
Chapter 15: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang
Hagrid puts down Malfoy during a lesson (something about making a good ferret)
Chapter 16: The Goblet of Fire
Krum decides to sit at the Slytherin table, Malfoy is smug
Chapter 18: The Weighing of the Wands
Malfoy mocking Harry about being the Champion
Potter stinks badges outside Potions, Malfoy offers Hermione one but says "don't touch my hand"
Hermione hit with Densaugeo when Harry and Malfoy duel (her teeth grow)
Chapter 19: The Hungarian Horntail
Hermione enduring taunts from Slytherin girls about being called "stunningly pretty" in Rita Skeeter article
Hermione and Harry (invisible) in Hogsmeade, people keep looking at Hermione, thinking she's talking to herself
Chapter 20: The First Task
Hermione watching from the stands
Chapter 21: The House-Elf Liberation Front
Draco and co hiding in Hagrid's cabin from the Skrewts, Hermione and co outside helping to wrangle them
Hermione going down to the kitchens to see the house-elves
Chapter 22: The Unexpected Task
Neville asked Hermione to the ball during Potions but she said she was going with someone (could have been overheard by Draco)
Chapter 23: The Yule Ball
Draco ridiculing Hermione, disbelieving she's been invited to the ball, she calls him a twitchy little ferret
That scene... Draco can't find an insult to throw at her
Ron and Hermione argument at the Yule Ball, she storms off
Chapter 24: Rita Skeeter's Scoop
Draco showing Harry and co the article on Hagrid
Chapter 26: The Second Task
Hermione and Ron taken for Black Lake task
Chapter 27: Padfoot Returns
Hermione tetchy about being teased for the fact she was Krum's hostage in the second task
Witch Weekly article, Pansy mocking Hermione, Draco part of the group
Hermione smiles and waves sarcastically across the room at them
moved seats by Snape in Potions, Hermione has to sit by Pansy
Chapter 28: The Madness of Mr Crouch
Hermione receives hate mail, including one filled with Bubotuber pus, Slytherin table saw this at breakfast
more hate mail and Howlers
Chapter 31: The Third Task
watching Malfoy talk into his hand through the window
Daily Prophet article about Harry fainting drops, Draco ridicules him across the Great Hall
Hermione realises Skeeter is an Animagus and runs to library to investigate
Hermione in the stands for the task
Chapter 35: Veritaserum
Harry comes out of the maze with a dead Cedric, the whole school is there
Chapter 37: The Beginning
Dumbledore's speech about Cedric's death and Voldemort’s return, Malfoy and co muttering to each other
Hermione caught Skeeter on the hospital wing window sill
Draco overheard and mockingly congratulates her, says some foul things and the Trio all hex him at once
pushing the unconscious Malfoy and co into the train corridor
Order of the Phoenix
Chapter 6: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Draco on the Black family tree tapestry in Grimmauld Place
Chapter 10: Luna Lovegood
Hermione and Ron going to Prefects carriage (Malfoy there)
Malfoy comes to carriage to gloat, Hermione tells him to shut up and get out
Draco being foul to a first-year, Hermione there to witness it
Chapter 12: Professor Umbridge
Potions lesson, Draught of Peace (Harry gets his Vanished and Draco laughs, Hermione's is perfect)
Chapter 13: Detention with Dolores
Bowtruckles lesson, Draco imitating Hermione with her hand up
Draco talking loudly during the lesson about Hagrid, Hermione counselling Harry and Ron to ignore him
Chapter 15: The Hogwarts High Inquisitor
receiving marks back for their moonstone essay in Potions
Umbridge inspecting Care of Magical Creatures, Malfoy telling Umbridge about the Hippogriff attack
Hermione giving Harry Murtlap solution (must have procured it from somewhere, could have potentially run into Draco)
Chapter 16: The Hog's Head
Hermione still writing to Viktor, would have to go up to the Owlery (presumably, Draco writes home to his mother often)
hypothesising that maybe it was Malfoy who tipped off Filch that Harry was ordering Dungbombs, Hermione goes deep into thought
Chapter 17: Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four
Malfoy bragging about the Slytherin Quidditch team being allowed to play and makes a comment about St. Mungo's, Neville attacks him
Chapter 19: The Lion and the Serpent
Slytherin players trying to hex Gryffindor players prior to Quidditch match (Alicia Spinnet attacked in the library)
Draco imitating Ron dropping the Quaffle
Hermione had been close enough to Slytherin to see the 'Weasley is our King' badges
Malfoy composed the 'Weasley is our King' lyrics
Harry and George attack Malfoy after the match
Chapter 21: The Eye of the Snake
Hermione visiting Hagrid's cabin
Thestrals lesson
Umbridge ridiculing Hagrid, Hermione is furious
Malfoy and co taking a jab at Ron, Hermione saying to ignore them
Chapter 22: St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Kreacher not answering Sirius' summons, probably already with Narcissa by now, probably telling her about “the Mudblood”
Chapter 23: Christmas on the Closed Ward
Hermione took the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place (therefore was in the wizarding world, could have potentially run into Draco)
Chapter 24: Occlumency
Fifth-year students studying in the library for O.W.L.s
Chapter 26: Seen and Unforeseen
Malfoy and co in the library muttering after Harry named their fathers as Death Eaters in the Quibbler interview
Trelawney is sacked, the whole school is there
Chapter 27: The Centaur and the Sneak
Umbridge crashes the DA, Draco catches Harry and is sent off to catch others (could potentially catch Hermione)
Chapter 28: Snape's Worst Memory
Draco docks points from Hermione for speaking badly about Umbridge, revealing he's part of the Inquisitorial Squad
Calls her a Mudblood, Ron whips out his wand but Hermione stops him
Chapter 30: Grawp
Inquisitorial Squad stalking the corridors after the Weasley twins' exit
Chapter 31: O.W.L.S
Hermione worried after overhearing Draco bragging about how his father knows Griselda Marchbanks, the examiner
Chapter 32: Out of the Fire
Umbridge catches them in her office trying to contract Sirius
Malfoy leaning against the window sill, Hermione pinioned by Millicent Bulstrode
look of eagerness and greed on Malfoy's face at Hermione’s mention of a secret weapon
Chapter 38: The Second War Begins
Hermione in hospital wing having to drink lots of potions because of Dolohov's curse
Malfoy and co try to attack Harry on the train, DA members turn them into slugs and stuff them in the luggage racking
Half-Blood Prince
Chapter 6: Draco's Detour
altercation in Madam Malkin's, Draco calls Hermione a Mudblood to his mother
"Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."
see Draco skulking on the street through the window of Fred and George's
spying on Draco in Borgin and Burke's
Hermione goes into the shop after Draco left in order to investigate
Chapter 7: The Slug Club
Hermione not super interested in talking about Draco compared to Harry
disbelieving that Draco is a Death Eater
Hermione and Ron have to go to the prefect carriage
Ron and Hermione saw Malfoy in the Slytherin carriage as they walked past (he gave them the finger)
hypothesising about why Malfoy wasn't in the prefect carriage
Chapter 8: Snape Victorious
Hermione and Ron would have noticed Harry was missing when they got off the train
Dumbledore's speech about Voldemort, Malfoy playing with his fork
Chapter 9: The Half-Blood Prince
Hermione weighing in on Malfoy's overheard boasts about his standing with the Dark Lord
Malfoy sniggering at Snape ridiculing Hermione in DADA (implying Slytherins now share the class with Gryffindors)
Amortentia in Potions, Malfoy and Nott snigger when Hermione tells Slughorn she's Muggle-born
Draco really wants the Felix Felicis
Chapter 11: Hermione's Helping Hand
Prophet article about Malfoy Manor being searched for Dark objects
Chapter 12: Silver and Opals
Hermione rebutting Harry's instant assumption that Malfoy gave Katie Bell the cursed necklace
Chapter 14: Felix Felicis
Malfoy "ill" and can't play the Quidditch match
not going immediately to the Gryffindor celebration party because she got in a tiff with Ron
Lavender and Ron kissing, Hermione runs away to an empty classroom
attacking Ron with the birds, storming off and crying
Chapter 15: The Unbreakable Vow
Hermione refuses to be in the common room while Ron and Lavender are there, spends most of her evenings in the library
Hermione disproving Harry's theory that Draco snuck the necklace in to school
leaving Transfiguration quickly after the bell to go cry, forgetting her things
taking Cormac to the Slug Club Christmas party and then running away from him
Draco lurking in upstairs corridor and being pulled up by Filch for gatecrashing
Chapter 17: A Sluggish Memory
Hermione got back to Hogwarts a few hours before Harry and Ron after Christmas (visiting Hagrid, but could have potentially crossed paths with Draco)
Hermione sceptical about Harry's overheard conversation between Snape and Malfoy
Chapter 18: Birthday Surprises
Hermione moving as far away from Ron as possible in Potions
both Malfoy and Hermione furious about Harry's bezoar stunt
Hermione researching Horcruxes in the restricted section
Malfoy and Crabbe having a whispered argument during Apparition lessons
Harry watching Malfoy on the Map (could lead to some awkward scenarios with 6th Year Dramione lol), but Draco can’t be seen when in the Room of Requirement
Chapter 19: Elf Tails
Hermione rushing to the hospital wing to see Ron
Draco and co (disguised with Polyjuice Potion) skulking around castle
Chapter 20: Lord Voldemort's Request
Hermione repairing the "little girl's" (Goyle) dropped scales
Chapter 21: The Unknowable Room
Hermione achieved Apparition twice in lessons
Kreacher and Dobby giving their Malfoy update
the Trio discover Malfoy's been going to the Room of Requirement
realise that Draco stole Polyjuice Potion and is feeding it to Crabbe and Goyle
Hermione again sceptical about Malfoy having the Dark Mark
the Trio discover Draco visits Moaning Myrtle in the boys' bathroom and cries (although, Myrtle specifically didn’t mention Draco, as it’s a secret)
Chapter 22: After the Burial
Hermione telling Harry to forget about Malfoy
Chapter 24: Sectumsempra
Katie returns to school and says she got the necklace in the ladies loo of the Three Broomsticks (Rosmerta was under the Imperius Curse)
Sectumsempra, Snape appears and heals Draco
everyone in school had heard about the incident from Moaning Myrtle, including Hermione
telling Harry off for using the spell
Chapter 25: The Seer Overheard
Hermione researching the Half-Blood Prince
Trelawney being bowled over by Malfoy, who was celebrating the cabinet being repaired
Harry giving Hermione and co the map, Felix Felicis etc in order to see why Malfoy was celebrating (he's going off with Dumbledore)
Chapter 27: The Lightning-Struck Tower
Dark Mark over Hogwarts, meaning the Death Eaters are in
Draco and Dumbledore in the tower
Draco got the coin idea to communicate with Rosmerta from Hermione, and also overheard her talking in the library about poisons (implying he’s been eavesdropping on her conversations)
Dumbledore offering to protect Draco and his family, Draco’s wand lowers
Chapter 28: Flight of the Prince
Snape and Malfoy running away, through the fighters
Chapter 30: The White Tomb
Harry has a bit of pity for Malfoy, probably shared it with Hermione and Ron
Deathly Hallows
Chapter 9: A Place to Hide
Draco being made to torture other Death Eaters who displease Voldemort, Harry may have told the others
Chapter 15: The Goblin's Revenge
Ron abandons them
Chapter 23: Malfoy Manor
Draco positively identifies Ron and Hermione (somewhat reluctantly) but not Harry
Bellatrix tortures Hermione, Draco was presumably in the room or taking the unconscious men outside like Bellatrix asked
Bellatrix offers Hermione to Greyback
Bellatrix threatening to slit Hermione's throat
probably best to just read the entire chapter
Chapter 30: The Sacking of Severus Snape
Hermione and Ron rush off to the Chamber of Secrets (could have crossed paths with Draco)
Chapter 31: The Battle of Hogwarts
Room of Requirement
Malfoy stops Crabbe from destroying the Room so they can find the diadem before Harry and co
Malfoy pulls Crabbe out of the way of Hermione's stunning spell
Crabbe shoots a Killing Curse at Hermione
the Trio save Malfoy and Goyle with broomsticks (Malfoy with Harry, Goyle with Hermione and Ron)
revealed that Crabbe is dead
Chapter 32: The Elder Wand
Draco pleading with Death Eaters that he's on their side, Harry stuns the Death Eaters, Ron punches Draco in the face
Chapter 33: The Prince's Tale
reprieve from battle, tending to the wounded and the dead in the Great Hall (no mention of where the Malfoys were)
Chapter 34: The Forest Again
Harry goes to the Forbidden Forest (left behind, Hermione and Ron are likely beside themselves)
Chapter 36: The Flaw in the Plan
"dead" Harry brought into the courtyard
Hermione, Ginny, and Luna duelling Bellatrix
Malfoys huddled together in a corner of the Great Hall
Nineteen Years Later
the Trio see Draco on the platform
but... Epilogue? What Epilogue?
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What it’s like to live like me.
Summary: this is more or less a prompt of how it feels to not be enough.
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, drugs, depression, slight PTSD.
A/n: if you ever need someone to talk to my Dms are always open! Just know you are enough and you are loved!
_
“That was definitely not the time I wanted to be tied up.” She says. She laughed along with everyone else with an easy smile on her face.
She made jokes to lighted everyone’s moods because she didn’t want anyone to feel how she truly did. She put on a front as a free, happy, careless girl who never let anything faze her.
No one saw how much of a toll it was taking on her and it was worth it she told herself. The three seconds of happiness she felt when she made someone laugh was worth it. Even when she went to her room at night curled up alone, her blanket being her only company.
“I’m going to get drinks. Anyone want one? Y/n?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.
She politely declined. Saying that she didn’t want a hang over tomorrow. What they didn’t know was the real reason she didn’t want to drink. They didn’t know that she was scared of ending up like her mother, who when in drunken state would say mean, vicious things. Telling her how worthless she is or how her life was ruined because of her or maybe she should go live with her father since she was so ungrateful.
Of course her mother would apologize the next day telling her she didn’t mean it and how she was just stressed from work. And Y/n would forgive her. Because no matter how much her mother would hurt her, she was all Y/n had.
Y/n watched as a girl walked up to Bucky while he was making a drink and as she laughed at whatever he said. No one knew her feelings for Bucky and she didn’t want them too. She didn’t want to be rejected. She didn’t want to lose one of her only closes friends. Even if he possibly did return her feelings She wasn’t naive enough to think they could last forever. And for her it was all or nothing. It was selfish. She was selfish. She wasn’t being harsh she told herself. How could she be too harsh if she deserved it?
She didn’t want to have a messy divorce like her parents. She didn’t want to come home after a long day at work to catch them cheating. She didn’t want to have a child out of desperation hoping maybe they’d stay. She didn’t want to have the midnight screaming match that woke up the neighbors. She didn’t want her husband to hit her after a disagreement. She’d rather be alone.
Sometimes Y/n had to put her mother to bed. Sometimes she have to cook, clean buy groceries, or get herself ready for school because her mother was either too drunk or too heartbroken to even get up from bed. 
She kneeled next to Peter rubbing his back as he threw up in the toilet. It was his first time drinking and he had a little to much. She told him it would be alright and that she was there for him. She told him everything she wished someone would have told her when she was his age.
She was always there to comfort someone after a mission or nightmare not matter how tired she was. She always made sure to tell someone thank you and telling them how much she appreciated them.
Y/n went to her room after walking Peter to his. Making sure to put a glass of water and Advil next to his bed for him tomorrow.
She slipped off her dress and looked into the mirror. She turned her body around inspecting it from each and every angle. What she saw made her want to throw up. There in the mirror was still the chubby kid from high school. The one boys would go to too ask for their friends number.
She was the one that could never eat in front of someone else without feeling like everyone was judging her. She was always make excuses when her friends wanted to go swimming say she was tired or she had homework.
Y/n tiptoed slowly down the hallway trying to stay quiet. She opened the window gently so she didn’t wake anyone up. Y/n lifted herself out of the window and onto the roof moving down carefully so she wouldn’t fall.
She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the stars. To most people it was frightening how big the galaxy is and how small they are but to Y/n it was kind of freeing.
After a few minutes Y/n reached into her pockets and pulled out a blunt and a lighter. She put the joint in between her lips and brought the lighter up to light then end using her free hand to shield the fire from the windy night.
She inhale deeply holding it for a few seconds before blowing out through her nose. Y/n started to smoke her sophomore year when some kid after practice offered her a hit. She liked the high that weed gave her. It actually made her feel something. Even if it only lasted 30 minutes. Because She hated feeling so damn numb.
The window opened next to Y/n. She quickly blew out the smoke and tried to hide the joint just in case it was a drunken Peter wondering around out of bed.
But it was Bucky that peaked his head through the window much to her surprise. “Is this seat taken?” He questioned.
Y/n smiled and scooted over farther patting the seat next to her “Of course not. The more the merrier.”
Bucky climbed through the window and sat a few inches away from her she could the his body heat radiating off of him. He was wearing sweatpants and a shirt sleeve t-shirt.
Y/n went to put the blunt out but Bucky plucked it out of her fingers putting it between his thumb and index finger. He took a quick drag and flicked the ash off of the end.
Y/n’s eyebrows shot up in surprise “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Bucky laughed before taking another drag “I did a couple of time before basic. Though it was kind of hard because I knew Ma would have a fit if she found out.”
“Oh I can imagine it. Young Bucky Barnes fresh out of high school ready to rebel and see the world.” Sometimes she wonder what it would be like to wake up in another century. Everyone you know is dead. No one has expectations. And could start fresh being whoever you wanted to be.
The both laid their heads back and looked at each other. Bucky’s eyes were slightly dilated but had a small smile on his face. With it still in between his fingers he brought the blunt up to Y/n’s face. They held eye contact as she took another hit “Are you okay?”
Y/n turned her head slightly when she exhaled making sure to not blow the smoke into his face “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked.
“You know I hear you come out here every night. After you think everyone’s gone to bed. Sometimes I think you just to be alone but we both know that’s not true.”
“I’m fine.” She forced out. Smiling at him to prove it. He didn’t look convinced.
He frowned at her. It wasn’t a look of pity. No it was more a look of sadness. She doesn’t know what caused her to do it but she reached out and brushed one of the curls that fell onto his forehead back. “You know I care about you right? I’d do anything thing for you.”
Y/n’s mouth went dry. She looked out at the sky to avoid eye contact. God how badly she had always wanted someone to say that. She all imagine him saying those exact words. But she never thought far enough ahead to what she would say back. Would she tell him how she felt? No, she didn’t want to get rejected. Would she tell him just to leave? Not that either because knew she’d probably regret it for the rest of her life. She sighed and hesitated before she asked. “Can you just stay.”
Bucky smiled and had a relieved look on his face. At first he looked like he was expecting her to decline. He pulled her into him wrapping his arms around her “Of course I will. I’ll stay for however long you’ll have me.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky imagine#bucky oneshot
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Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.
REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?
OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk
I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!
There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.
He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.
Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?
Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.
It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.
He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.
Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.
Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.
But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.
But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.
“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”
The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”
He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”
Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”
The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”
“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”
Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”
“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”
“Please, I—”
“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.”
“Y/N—”
“Leave, Zuko.”
With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.
-----
“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”
“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”
“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”
“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”
“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”
Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted.
They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.
“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”
“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.
“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”
“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”
She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”
“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”
“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”
“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”
“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”
He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.
Maybe he had a crush on her, too.
-----
Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.
“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”
“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”
“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”
Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”
“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.
“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”
“Think about our place in the universe?”
Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.
She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.
They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power.
The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too.
-----
“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”
“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”
“Y/N!”
The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”
“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”
“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”
“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”
They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”
She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”
“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”
“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”
“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”
She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”
“Yeah.”
The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”
Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.
They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.
They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.
“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”
He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”
“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”
“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.
He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.
But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.
“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”
He turned his head to look at her, “really?”
She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”
“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”
Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.
Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”
“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.
“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.
In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.
It was nice to dodge the nightmares.
-----
“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”
“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”
“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”
“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”
“I am always full of surprises.”
“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”
“But you do like him, right?.”
“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”
Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”
“So you admit you like him!”
“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”
“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”
“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”
“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”
“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”
“Wait, you’re in love with him?”
Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.
“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”
He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”
The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”
“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”
She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.
“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”
Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.
“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”
“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.
“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”
“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”
“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”
He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.
Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”
She only smirked in response.
-----
The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.
“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”
He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”
Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”
He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”
They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.
“My love, Prince Zuko?”
“Yes, my darling.”
They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.
“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”
“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”
“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”
Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.
“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”
“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”
“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”
“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”
“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”
He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.
She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth.
She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.
Spirits, she really loved him.
“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”
is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao
taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece
thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!
#zuko x reader#zuko x fem!reader#zuko x f!reader#sokka x reader#atla x reader#atla#avatar the last airbender#avatar the last airbender x reader#zuko#sokka#avatar#avatar!reader#avatar reader#ember island#the ember island players#requested
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👑Hewwu Queen 👑 is it alright if I request DIO in part 3 meeting his descendant?. Like he basically had a kid accidentally in part 1 and now he’s meeting their great grandkid who looks allot like him and seems to not be fully human. Maybe he meets them at night since their family was traveling around the world and stopped off in Egypt where he found them maybe listening to music?
Since you write for DIO, is it alright if I request that he somehow meets one of his kid after they get into some time travel shenanigans. Maybe his kid has a stand that is kinda similar to his but they aren’t confident in using it
DIO aiding his helpless descendant
sfw / gn reader
notes/warnings: implied assault (on your great-great grandmother)
Another case of two anons thinking alike!! It was really fun to think about this and sorry for taking so much time to get to it :o I hope you’ll still enjoy 💖✨also the pacing is strange/fast (to me), but i felt it fit with how frantic i imagine meeting Dio is
Somewhere between irking Jonathan and wishing to destroy any respectful sliver of the Joestar bloodline, Dio had his own way of indulging and spending his time. Men, women; any creature he could manipulate to his will and suck the life out of to join his dark army was welcome in his dimly lit hideout to meet their fate. The self proclaimed god that had surmounted humanity took pleasure in playing with his food; leaving them in complete darkness, literally. He’d let them suffer in silence, hearing them whimper and regret their choice to ever step foot inside the wicked monster’s palace. But it was always too late.
Except for the very night Jonathan had decided to come spoil the fun and ruin Dio’s playtime. The woman hadn’t meant anything to him, just a toy to play with and to later discard on the pile of other bodies strewn about. Was she glad to have been saved by the burly Joestar? At first yes; brought back to her senses, out of that monster’s grasp but left terribly violated. Left to carry and care for the offspring Dio would never know or care about, too busy being left to slumber in the ocean and gaining a new form from his hated ‘brother’.
Dio rose again, skulking in the shadows of dimly lit cities, looking for any and all petty humans and stand users to claim for his side. It took time and patience he didn’t know he possessed to get fully comfortable in his new body. There was always this inkling, a nagging sonar that kept getting louder and louder, not much unlike his connection to the new generation of Joestars. It grasped at his thoughts, kept him from any semblance of peace of mind -as much as he could acquire it- and there seemed to be no way of silencing it. He couldn’t see a clear picture; it was just nothing but an annoying sense of something being near.
He had searched for weeks like a bloodhound hot on a trail, irritated that he of all people, nay creations, was being made to follow and be obedient to the terrible nagging. It angered him greatly and only when he found a mere youngster sitting on a bench, you, a simple looking human, did it boil over. Sat with your walkman resting next to you on the wooden seating, head bopping along to your newest cassette in the middle of the night. Completely lost in the song you’d been drumming along to with your fingers. Dio was furious but knew better than to strike before investigating, he needed answers and he needed them now.
As he got closer to you, sneaking from behind, he noticed an immediate shift. You were no longer alone. An image, a blur that became clearer and steadier and more live-like as each second passed; posing defensively, staring down Dio with a fire in your eyes not much unlike the tall blonde’s. Not for a moment does he fear for his safety. Even though The World is a newly acquired power it could easily wipe out a scrawny kid without even hitching a breath. He smirks, eyes cast over in shadow by the dim street light as he hears you pause your cassette player.
“Oh? Was I disturbing you?’ he mocks in a smirk, catching the way your eyes glint and the vaguely familiar image you awaken in him. Just like before he’s left to figure out who this annoying hazy memory is. His voice shivers down your very being, goosebumps taking over your skin; not sure if you had already missed your chance to run. It was like his glare fixated you in place, finger still resting on the pause button of your player while the other reached up to remove the flimsy headphones.
“You…” you barely get out the word. The accusatory tone you had tried to convey had watered down to a whimper. You had felt the connection too, something nagging at your soul and stringing you along until you’d finally found the source. “Me? Hah! No, you.” Dio slid closer, his steps so quiet and calculated that even though you couldn’t take your eyes off of him you swore it seemed like he floated. You swallowed thickly, the huge figure that excluded an aura so menacing only a meter away from you.
“So. Who are you and why was it so disgustingly annoying to find you?” he joked impertinently, amused by the way you clenched your jaw at his remark. “I could ask you the same.” a brave little spark still smouldering inside. “DIO. Now don’t make me ask again, you’re making me dreadfully inpatient.” He hadn’t felt the need to kill you, at least not yet. Dio was truly curious about your answer but by the looks of it you really didn’t seem to know all that much.
You begrudgingly gave him your name, in need of some answers yourself. The sound of your name didn’t ring a single bell, not a tick, not a clank. Nothing. Not a single step further to knowing anything. “Well it seems like you do have a stand. Maybe you possess a great power that might be useful to me.” that wicked grin on his face told you a little too much of his motivations. He reminded you of those Saturday morning cartoon villains. But still you felt compelled to listen, ignoring every single red flag.
Deciding to humour him you give out your stand’s name. “Trust me, we can’t really do much.” you huffed. You’ve only obtained your stand recently and honestly, it has been pretty shitty so far. You didn’t know exactly what it could do, it was just there. Any time you felt stressed or in danger it did come to your aid but it remained awfully docile. Their presence comforted you but you just knew it was capable of so much more.
“Are you a vampire?” The sudden question came out more surprised than Dio had hoped to let on. He regained his posture, opting to slide next to you on the bench with a swift move. There was something… off about the way you carried yourself that reminded him of himself and the other vampires he’d created. The question stunned you, your eyes that had already been widened in shock only growing more so. The way he had changed the entire conversation that had barely earned its start urged you to think quickly. “I don’t know.” you mumbled demurely. You really didn’t know. So many weird things had been happening to you lately that you being a vampire would explain a lot.
Your answer seemed to change the imposing man’s gaze and expression. It hardened a bit, his grin now slowly diminishing into a straighter line and his pointed brows resting down at a more natural angle. Even in this low light his image felt so familiar, like you were already supposed to know who he was but the memory remained hidden. Locked away for your safety. “You should feed. And don’t go out in daylight anymore.” Dio paused for a second. “Strange...” He pondered to himself out loud. He’s only seen a few cases like this, vampiric genes passed down through generations. For some reason he pitied you, as much as he could muster it. The unknown bond you shared felt too unusual to write off.
“What am I supposed to do?” you felt tears prick your eyes, trying your best to remain strong but you’ve been so tired. You couldn't confide in anyone, not about this. Tears started rolling, falling in thick streams down your cheeks and dropping onto your lap. Here you were, crying to a stranger named Dio about being a vampire and having weird powers. A bizarre twist of fate.
“First of all, stop crying. Then, widen your stance when you’re about to fight someone. I could have easily knocked you down with that flimsy imitation. Fix your posture while you’re at it. Call out your stand again.” He rattled off his demands quickly and flatly. Was he helping you? They were barbed complaints but it seemed like he actually wanted to aid you in whatever it was you were going through. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. You felt like a kid again; asking your parent for any reassurance when life knocked you down.
Dio actually offered a lot of viable advice, telling you about techniques to silence your steps, how to take someone down easily, to feed on humans within an inch of their life. You had asked him, just in case. You weren’t planning on killing anyone; a comment which made him scoff. That intimidating impression and overall feeling of having to bend to his will had lessened the more you talked to the blonde. He casually sat with you for what felt like hours. He hadn’t divulged into his own history, instead asking you about yours. He was still trying to figure out what this weird pull was.
“No one in your family has experienced anything like this before? Hmph. It seems to have skipped multiple generations then.” he was asking about your great grandmother and all the others that came before you. It could have occurred to them but you would have never known. “My family did come from England, though. My great-great grandmother fled in a hurry. We don’t really know why, Windknight’s Lot seems like an unusual place to frantically run from.” As soon as the small town’s name left your lips everything fell into place for Dio. His grin grew again, satisfied to finally know your connection to him.
Family.
One he made for himself, by accident, by a relation created on his own devious whim. Not that horrible Joestar bunch that kept ruining his fun or his horrible father that was but a faint minuscule memory. Something he did. It brought him even more satisfaction to know how perfectly in place it felt for you to be the one to develop these powers at the perfect time. His mind could have exploded with possibilities; a thousand ways to make you join his side. But it didn’t, he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted yet. And he surely wasn’t going to tell you of your bond either, lest you get attached too quickly.
As you finished up and the early signs of a rising sun were starting to make itself known on the horizon, you were saying your goodbye’s. “Thank you for helping me. Truly, I- I don’t know how I-” you weren’t allowed to finish your earnest thanks. Dio knew you meant it, one of the only few truly grateful acknowledgements he’s ever received. “I’ll be taking over the world in a few months. If you feel so inclined to join, you know where to find me.” His lips curled into a smirk and he was making his move to leave you behind, alone on the bench again. Left to scramble for your stuff to try and stop him but he was already out of sight. “WAIT! I don’t know where to find you! You never told me!” you yelled into the empty streets, heart thumping out of your chest, hoping this wasn’t just a very elaborate dream you were caught in.
“Trust your instincts.” The voice felt incredibly close but so far away, like catching a falling snowflake; as soon as you grasped it, it just melted away.
#cozy request#dio x reader#jjba x reader#dio brando x reader#jojo x reader#jjba fic#jjba imagines#jojo's bizarre adventure#NOT INC*ST for the love of all that is good#DIO#sfw#gn reader
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True love survives arguments. Sometimes it even survives break-ups, so you have to live, and then you have to fight for him. Just hold on and fight. In which Jo calls Alex and he actually picks up.
“Alex, I need you to call me or so help me, I will fly to where you are and…”
Jo snaps, she'd been practicing her speech over and over in her head all day, she’d not even considered what she’d do if he actually answered. Which much to her surprise he had…it had taken her moment to even notice she wasn’t listening to the familiar sound of his voicemail but instead the sound of his steady breaths.
“You answered?” She mutters almost in disbelief as she pushes herself up off the couch, pacing around the loft. All she’d wanted all week was for him to answer and now he has the silence is deafening.
“I know you said you were going through something and that you needed time and I wanna give it to you I do, but I spent a lot of the last year pushing you away…”
“Jo…” she pauses as the sound of his voice comes over the line. She has to cover her mouth to stop herself from crying out, three weeks he’d been gone, three weeks of sitting by the phone, three weeks of not hearing his voice. Three weeks of conjuring up the worst possible scenario.
She takes a shaky breath, leaning against the cold window. She needs to get the rest of her speech out before she loses her nerve before she breaks down and begs him to come home. “I know it wasn’t my fault but I did, I pushed you away, but you held onto me then. You did, you held on and you refused to let me go or give up on me. You held on to me. So I’m holding on to you, I’m holding on for dear life.”
It’s quiet for a moment. So quiet she thinks he might have hung up but a quick glance down at her phone screen shows they’re still connected.
“It’s not that easy Jo.” He sounds tired, defeated maybe…either way, it turns her stomach.
“I love you.” She whispers, gripping the phone tighter in her hand. Her eyes watering as she hears his low sigh, like that was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Alex, I love you and whatever this is, whatever you’re going through I wanna go through it with you.”
They fall silent once more. Jo grips to her phone like she’s gripping onto him.
“I love you too.” Jo closes her eyes savoring his words. It should fill her with relief but she knows the but is coming. She thinks back through all her fears, all the scenarios that she’s conjured up these past few weeks. He loves her…he still loves her, so can it really ever be that bad?
“You do?”
“Always.” He confirms.
“Then talk to me, just talk to me. I’m right here.” There’s desperation in her voice as she pleads with him. “For better or worse….”
“What?”
“For better or worse.” They’ve promised it to each other more times than she can count at this point. On a ferry boat in June in front of all their friends. They whispered it against each other's bare skin late into the night. They’ve muttered it in passing on a busy workday when the world felt like it was caving in. He’d promised her it outside the facility the day she was released and he’d promised it to her again just over a month ago in the courthouse.
“Did you mean that?” Jo asks, she’s clutching the phone so tight now she’s sure it will break. She’s holding on for dear life. “If this is the worst, Alex I can handle it.” She lets out a shaky breath, as she tries to calm herself breathing in for a count of three. “I can handle it...I can handle whatever it is but I need you to tell me what's going on.”
Then nothing.
Silence.
Just their quiet breaths filtering through the line.
Jo can taste her salty tears as they slip down onto her lips then…
“I’m with Izzie.”
He’s so quiet she almost doesn’t hear him. Her mind takes a moment to grasp what Alex had just said.
Izzie
“I called her for Mers hearing and we got to talking…”
“She wasn’t on the list.” It’s the first thing she thinks of, all her worst-case scenarios coming true at once.
“What?”
Her legs feel like jelly, shaking too much to support her weight as she drops to the ground, leaning back against the couch, “She wasn’t on the list.”
“I didn’t put her on there.” He says it like it’s simple. Like it’s an obvious explanation for any of this. He sounds more confident now, his voice clear and concise like he’d practiced it. Maybe he had. Maybe it’s why he’d avoided answering her for so long, he just hadn’t figured out the right words to say.
“She had my kids Jo.” She couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the room. “She had twins Eli and Alexis and they're here in Kansas.”
“You have kids?”
“I have kids. Twins. They’re five years old...say something, Jo, please.” He urges after a minute's silence.
She can’t though. She’s clawing at her chest desperately trying to remember all the stupid breathing techniques she’d learned. Trying to get to her happy place, her happy place that had him written all over it.
“I’m so sorry Jo.”
“Do you love her?” She manages through ragged breaths. She’s already on fire, might as well throw on the accelerator.
He hesitates. She hears his breath hitch like he can’t find the right words and then a quiet yes. Yes, he does love her.
“But not like that. Not like I love you.”
The words that had felt healing only moments ago hurt now, causing her heart to tear further into two, now they sound more like pity than hope.
“What does that mean?”
She hears a slight sniffle before he’s clearing his throat. “That I love you...but I can’t come home, I can’t leave them. Can you come here?” He sighs but Jo's mind is still whirling, her body still shaking. She can’t quite comprehend anything that he’s saying.
It’s like all she can see is a huge blinking sign that reads.
He’s with Izzie. He loves her. He has kids.
“You have kids.”
“Jo…”
“You have a family?”
“Daddy?” Jo can feel the gasp falling from her lips before she has a chance to stop it. He’s there now, he’s there with them while she’s sitting alone.
“You’re there now? You’re with them?”
She hears the phone muffle. Obviously, he’s covered the speaker but she can still hear him as he asks his children to go play, that he’d come and join them in a minute. He’s a dad. Something he’d wanted for such a long time. Something only weeks ago she’d been considering bringing up for them.
He understood her. It’s one of the reasons she loved him so much. Since Bailey’s wedding, they’d just had this uncanny ability to understand the other. Even if they didn’t agree with each other. They were cut from the same cloth.
Right now though that feels worlds away. Right now they feel like two pieces of different puzzles. She’s here and he’s there and he’s a parent and she’s not.
His voice breaks through the overwhelming thoughts clouding her brain. “Can you come here, Jo?”
“I can’t.”
It's a low whisper before she does the one thing she could never imagine herself doing before she pressed his contact tonight, she hangs up.
She lets him go to voicemail twice before the phone falls silent. She thinks he knows better than to press the issue, especially when all he’s done is ignore her calls for weeks. She needs time. Time to figure out what this all means.
It’s easier said than done. She manages to drag herself to work, detaching herself from everyone she knows, pushing through by focusing on her patients. He doesn’t call again. Weeks go by in silence. Jo falls into the same routine of working until she might drop, only dragging herself home when she’s so tired she's sure her brain won’t be able to torment her.
It’s only when she’s ransacking her wardrobe having neglected the growing laundry pile for too long that she finds them. Tucked into the back behind an old shoebox. Three tiny baby hats.
She clutched them carefully in her hands, trailing her finger along the detailing. They’re made with such love and care for babies she used to be able to picture so clearly. She doesn’t wanna give up that dream or Alex for that matter she's just not sure how to hold onto him.
For the first time in weeks, she finds herself staring down at her phone, her finger itching to hit call. She doesn’t though. She’s not sure what she’d say about this mess, still feeling too big to wade through alone.
The second time she’s overwhelmed with the need to call Alex comes only days later. She’s just finished discussing surgery options with a new patient when she spots him. He recognizes her immediately, his face lighting up.
“Dr. Wilson…it’s so nice to see you again.”
It’s Charlie Peterson. The heart transplant kid from years ago. He’s older now obviously, he looks healthy and it gives Jo a warm feeling to know she was a little part of that. She so rarely gets to see her patients again.
“Charlie…it’s good to see you. Or I hope it is…are you here for treatment?”
“Just a check-in with Dr. Pierce.” Jo nods offering a soft smile before turning her attention down to her phone. She has to run, she has surgery in a little bit. Sensing their conversation is almost over she watches as Charlie sways back on his feet almost nervously. “Dr. Wilson…there’s something…there’s something I wanted to say. Wanted to thank you for really. It’s something you said to me when I got my transplant.” Jo doesn’t say anything, she can vaguely remember talking to him. She knows it was the day she’d propose to Alex. “You said I had to promise to survive, that true love survived fights and breakups. You said you have to live, and then you have to fight and it always stuck with me you know. So just thankyou.”
Jos' speechless. She’d remember it now, her and Alex arguing. He was so sure she was leaving him that he’d spent the night away from home. Her heart had felt heavy as she returned home that night to an empty loft, it felt cold without him much like it did now. She’d hated it so much she’d refused to let that be her permanent reality. She’d fought for him back then. She got down on her knees and told him she wanted him forever. Where had that gone? Where was her gumption? That need to fight for him?
She wishes Charlie well before excusing herself for surgery but her mind is miles away. It might as well be in Kansas because that’s where her heart is. It's where she should be too.
She’s not sure what happens next. She’s not sure how Izzie and the twins fit or how she fits with them. But she knows how she fits with Alex. She knows that nothing has ever felt that scary when he’s been standing there beside her and if she can just get to him she’s sure they can work this all out.
She scans her phone buying the plane ticket out to Kansas without a second glance. Reading the confirmation email she feels at peace for the first time since Alex had walked out that door. The kinda peace that only came from knowing where your heart truly lied. Tomorrow she’d get to see Alex and no matter how bad or how scary everything else around them was, he’d be there to hold her hand. All she had to do was hope he still wanted to.
Tomorrow she'd be with Alex. Her first love. Her last, her only. He was all of it. He was her everything.
It’s late when she arrives back at the loft, so late she doesn't even notice how the lights are already on as she climbs the steps. It’s only when she spots a familiar pair of boots lined up by the door that she realizes the change. The air seems warmer. Looking up abruptly she spots him standing across the room, leaning against the kitchen island like he’d been waiting for her.
“You came home?” She mutters in disbelief, her keys clattering to the ground as she takes him in. He’d let his beard grow, which makes sense considering she’d been crying at the sight of his razor for weeks. He looks tired though, with deep bags under his eyes.
He nods, taking quick strides until he’s standing before her. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted. She watches his own hands twitch with the same urge. Like he too wanted to confirm she was real and standing in front of him. “I came home.”
Suddenly Jo bursts out laughing. Her hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she tries to keep her giggles at bay. Alex's eyebrows drop in confusion as he eyes her carefully. “I booked a flight.” She admits through uneven breaths.
“What?”
“I booked a flight for tomorrow morning. I was gonna come find you.” She laughs again, finding it overwhelmingly amusing that on the day she’d decided to go find him, he’d come home.
Alex frowns but nods as if he has an understanding of what she’s laughing about. “Jo look…”
“Do you still want me?” She asks abruptly. It’s the only question she has. She can deal with the twins and Izzie and Kansas, she can deal with it all as long as he still wants her.
“What kind of question is that?” Alex settles his hands on her waist, the heat of his palms seeping through her. “Of course I want you. I always want you.”
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
And they do figure it out. They head back to Kansas together the next morning, Alex’s hand clutched tightly in her own. Jo’s nervous and scared and a whole other host of emotions but those feelings soon fade when they step out of the rented car. Alex’s face lights up as two five-year-olds come barreling down the front steps, skidding to a halt in front of her. Their eyes are wide and hesitant as they say a reluctant hello. Jo is struck with the love that flows through her as soon as she sees them, no they’re not her’s but they are his. Little pieces of the man she loves so dearly. She can see parts of him so clearly, he’s in Eli’s lopsided grin and Alexis’s eyes. They’re a part of him; it's impossible not to love them.
She lets Alexis guide her up into the house, accepting a cup of coffee from Izzie who seems genuinely pleased that she's there and they sit for the rest of the afternoon playing tea party. Jo mainly spends the day watching Alex who seems more himself then she’s ever seen him before as he chases the two around.
Later that evening Izzie finds her on the porch swing. Jo feels her stomach turning at what she’s about to say, but she is surprised when Izzie apologizes. She apologizes for keeping the twins a secret, for not calling Alex sooner, and then she apologises the way she’s sure she’s uprooted Jo's life. The funny thing is it doesn't feel uprooted at all. It’s only day one but nothing has been as bad as Jo had made it out to be in her head. The day had flown by in an unexpected bliss, Alex had been the husband she knew, constantly touching base making sure she was okay, a reassuring hand squeeze or a mouthed I love you across the dining table. He needn’t bother though, she was more than okay.
“Do you think she can hear me?” Alexis shouts, making Jo startle out of her daydream. They’d been in Kansas almost a year now. It’s not a picnic by any means but it’s definitely worth it. They’re a family, a real proper family. It’s not just her and Alex and their friends anymore and Jo loves it, every messy second of it. She’d cried when the twins had shown up at their house the day after Mother’s Day with a card that read ‘Not all stepmothers are wicked’ and a bunch of flowers that Izzie had let them pick from her garden. Her life is so far from what she’d imagined it to be after she’d called Alex a year ago. Back then she could never see herself leaving Grey Sloan Memorial or even Seattle but they had and it was better than whatever life they ever had planned.
“What about now?” Alexis yells again, pressing her chin into Jo’s stomach as she looks up at Jo expectantly.
Jo just laughs, their poor baby would probably be deaf by the time she was born. “She can definitely hear you and by the time she joins us she’ll know the sound of your voice.” She runs a hand through Alexis' hair softly as the girl settles her ear against Jo's stomach.
“Can she hear me?” Eli yells suddenly, crashing down on top of his sister as they fight for a place on Jo's stomach. “I want her to hear me.” He cries, making Jo and Alex chuckle as he places his ear against her bump expecting his new sister to talk back.
“Everyone can hear you, ya little monster,” Alex growls, lifting the boy up off the picnic blanket they’d laid out, making him squeal in delight as he tips him upside down, one hand tickling his side.
“Ooo she definitely heard you,” Jo winces, feeling a sharp kick to the ribs. “Here guys come to feel her.” She takes Alexis's outstretched hand moving it about as she traces her daughter's kicks across her stomach until she seems to settle in one spot. She watches Lexs face light up in pure delight, her mouth falling open in wonder.
“Can you feel her Lex?” Alex grins taking the seat beside Jo, placing his warm hand against her bump just slightly to the side of Alexis’s.
“Yeah…yeah, I can feel her,” She nods excitedly.
“Hey, I wanna feel her too…” Eli pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as that famous Karev scowl crosses his face.
Jo shakes her head, reaching her arm around Alex and holding it out towards him. “Come over here then bud,”
They all fall silent for a moment, a very rare moment for the Karevs. The happiness seems to radiate out between them all as they feel the little movements of their newest edition.
The warm sunny day sends a golden filter over the image before her. Alex’s lopsided grin, his hand stretched out across her belly, two smaller hands pressed either side. Eli’s tucked under her arm while Alexis lays across her lap. She knows this perfect moment won't last so she takes extra care to commit it to memory while it happens.
As predicted the moment is broken, the sound of the ice cream truck drawing the children’s attention as they go racing across the grass in a flash and they both know Alex has about ten seconds before he has to go catch up to them. He takes the time to press a chaste kiss to her lips before he goes. Soft and sweet and way too short for her liking.
“Thanks for holding on to me.” He whispers against her lips when he pulls back, shooting her a wink before he’s off and running in the direction of the twins.
“Always.”
She calls back, laughing when he almost trips over as he turns back to grin at her. Jo runs her hand across her bump lovingly, thinking back to how only a year ago she was ready to give up this dream of a life completely. She’s glad she didn't.
#alex karev#jolex#jo wilson#jo karev#greys anatomy#greys abc#justin chambers#greysanatony#greys#camilla luddington#Jolex oneshot#Jolex fanfic#Jolex fanfiction#tsjolexweek
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