#she’s a completely unrelated blonde with the same name
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daydreaming - part two
summary: you start spiralling thinking about pierre. unbeknownst to you, he’s just the same
eavesdropping is a sin. so doing so in a church must be a double sin but you couldn’t help yourself. since pierre had come to your work, you’d become sensitive to any mention of him. your ears physically perked up and it took a lot of effort to appear casual, uninterested even. however, when you hear ms. chavanges talking to her friends about pierre, god would understand. before sunday sermon, you heard his mother asking which girls her friends thought suitable. you heard them throw around twelve or so names, with a comment on said girls profession, her dating history, families and some of the girls that had even asked about pierre themselves. you felt indignant that your name wasn’t brought up by the time the sermon started.
you weren’t paying any attention, your mind was spiralling. you’d been single a couple years now, and was generally well liked, the age gap between yourself and pierre was big but really your old enough now that it hasn’t mattered for a while. your thoughts circled and circled, you became angry at no one in particular. your mother kept dragging you up and poking your thighs to get you to pay attention but everything unrelated to pierre was in one ear, out the other.
when the congregation got up to leave, you tried to fidget around so you could hear a bit more of ms. chavanges plans but your mother pulled you out impatiently. "you weren’t listening at all were you" your mother scolded you as you walked to the car. "we have to hurry i have to make the cake before dinner". you stared out the window, quite puzzled, why wouldn’t ms. chavanges mention you, you knew she liked you, why was she only mentioning blondes, does pierre prefer blondes?. "what are you thinking about, your so quite" your mother was driving like a lunatic, but you’ve become completely desensitised to it.
you hadn’t mentioned pierre to anyone, not that there was anything to say. your mother knew you had a crush on him in your teens but she had rolled her eyes at it, it was a phase after all. you haven’t been pining for him for a decade, you’d liked others and dated even. you’d liked him at 16 and even now at 26, she’d just say your nostalgic.
that night you could barely sleep, it felt like you were regressing in some way, having an immature crush on someone so completely unavailable wasn’t a good sign. it had been harmless enough when he didn’t even know you, when you’d be on the same aisle at the supermarket and he wouldn’t notice, or when queuing at the post office together, it was mainly boredom than anything…
now that he knows your name though and the image of his smile as he waved at you is etched into your mind it isn’t fun anymore. although you are within each others orbit, pierre isn’t someone you have any connection to, you don’t have his number, you have no mutual friends or frequent the same places. you resent your mother for not being friends with his. for the next few weeks you become impatient and irritated, short with your friends, ditzy at work and very self hating.
you go to sleep daydreaming being close to pierre, reminiscing the deep hum in his voice, imagining his lips close to your cheek, speaking to you sweetly. as you get restless and the night goes on, the imaginings become less innocent. your hands roam your body imaging it’s pierre’s, his rough hands and strong arms. you feel a tinge of guilt and shame after your release, the fatigue sets in and you can finally sleep. it doesn’t feel great to be getting off to the thought of a guy you’ve had one conversation with.
*
pierre had built a fixation on you. he always had a lot of time to think and since he met you, he’d only thought of you. he always had a million and one chores, having the same conversations with his parents and friends. he thought of you constantly and had begun to zone out, everyone snaps their fingers in front of him to get his attention. he wanted to see you again, having already finished the russian epic, he knew he had an excuse to go back to your work. he had been putting it off, going through every scenario, trying to anticipate your reactions.
he found you on instagram, he scrolled through your profile every night. it didn’t have much, mostly group pictures from events, your amateur photography and book reviews. his fingers went back to the handful of pictures with your face. he was puzzled, how had you always been there and he hadn’t seen, was he really that blind and detached. your beautiful, unbelievably so. he thought of your lips again, the soft plum bottom lips, he imagined biting them. your voice was ringing in his ears, the way it twinkled, the mocking tone when you corrected him. he remembered your hair in a mess, the rings curling at your neck, some resting on your décolletage. he had wanted to run his hands through it, following it down your back, wanted to rest his hands around your waist.
"angelique bought you a new tart to try, isn’t that sweet of her" pierre’s mother didn’t even let him fully enter the kitchen, he hummed noncommittally and took a chair at the table. his father moved the plate of tart towards him. taking a fork, he had a bite and nodded to his parents, he was hardly qualified to judge but hoped it would get them off his back. the lunch had a tension from his mother he recognised, she was waiting to drop a bomb on him, while his father casually flipped through his paper, no ally to his son. this atmosphere wasn’t good for his digestion, that’s for sure.
his mother cleared her throat, pierre braced himself, that’s lunch done. "don’t you think angelique's a nice girl… quite pretty too" just what pierre needed, a set up. "the baker? of course, i suppose" that usually did the trick, his mother wasn’t the best matchmaker and it’s not like she knew he was obsessed with you, can’t blame her for trying. another pause. "i’ve invited her over for dinner tomorrow night, she’s bringing dessert" pierre's eyes narrowed at his mother. it’s one thing to talk about these girls but to invite them over was ridiculous. "isn’t that nice" he drawled, his mother noticed his insincerity and began to speak, pierre was already across the house and going to his office. angelique may be having dinner here tomorrow, but he won’t
so it’s decided, pierre grabbed his book determined to see you today.
daydreaming masterlist
#sorry if the slow burn is too slow#i should shut up lol#swann arlaud#petit paysan#bloody milk#pierre chavanges#fanfic#y/n
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this was probably from ages ago but some fun asks for you; favorite lister headcannons? [I]
OOH idk man i’m shit at head cannons ALSO THIS WAS SAT IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT I POSTED IT
- well in my mind i always read him with a northern english accent and i’m not sure why. i know he’s from kent like Rowan + Jimmy but he just gives off northern vibes idk. and after learning that his dads scottish i can also see him using lots of Scottish slang terms.
- i think he’s a slag for a bit of pop too. Britney, Ariana, Taylor, Reneé, you name it. he gets a bit embarrassed though so he turns off his AirBuds when he wants to listen to girly pop music. he has the widest music taste out of the ark, so his Spotify wrapped is always mental. he posts them every year and not once has the same song appeared in his top listened to
- ik he’s not like blonde blonde but i think his natural hair is a lot darker but he’s been dying it blonder since he first met Jimmy and Rowan. when the ark are on hiatus he lets it grow out to his natural colour for a bit.
- he tried to grow a stache one time but Rowan shaved it while he slept. Also he didn’t know how to shave when he first met Jimmy and Rowan, so Pierro taught him. Pierro also taught him how to tie a real tie rather than use a clip on one.
- Joan LOVED lister. she would always fuss over him when he would come over. When he’d come round he would help her in the garden, but really he was terrible and Joan would always have to fix his mistakes. when he told her about how he and his mum would listen to albums together when he was little, she began showing him her collection of old records from when she was a teen/young adult. when she died she left Lister a few of his favourites. Lister keeps them hidden at all times so when he was hosting parties there was no chance they’d get damaged. after they stopped having so many people over Lister kept them displayed in the living room.
- i think that before he and Jimmy got together he had healthy and fun relationship with someone unrelated. it’s not anything ridiculously serious but it helps him see what he should realistically be looking for and what he deserves. it’s not like he’s using the person though, and he actually really likes them. they eventually end things amicably though, and stay good friends.
- it says on the WIKI article alice wrote for him that he has three half siblings. as far as i can think there’s no canon information about them other than that, so i like to HC that they are all from his dads second marriage and they don’t talk much since Lister hasn’t been to visit his dad in years. the ages are;
1.) Lister (19-20)
2.) a sister who’s like 17ish, she’s super embarrassed about the whole ark thing and is reluctant to rebuild a relationship with him again when he reaches out to her post IWBFT, because she remembers how he used to constantly fight with their dad when he’d come over for christmas / two weeks in the summer holidays. when they do start to reconnect and get closer she helps him bond with their dad too. (maybe she’s called Maya?)
3.) a younger brother who’s 13ish and a total TWAT. they look really similar and he’s just like how Lister was in school but he’s hilarious and really admires Lister. somehow he’s stupid smart though, even if he’s class clown. i think he reaches out to Lister when he’s still in the hospital after the incident. i also think it would be funny if the younger brother’s celebrity crush was Jimmy but his image of jimmy is completely shattered when he meets him properly. (i call him Brodie in my head)
4.) his youngest sister who’s like 7 who barely remembers lister but once they get closer she has him wrapped around her little finger. he almost bought her a horse once but Jimmy and Rowan had to remind him that a 7 year old who lives in a city centre can not logistically look after a whole horse. (i think her names Eilidh)
- the ark move from the flat into a house just outside london and he makes sure they all have a room so they can visit whenever they want to.
- after getting to know them better, he gets really close with Angel and Juliet. the three of them and Bliss have “girls” nights in the arks flat. when Listers hair grows they teach him how to pleat it. he gets really good and when he starts seeing his half siblings again he pleats his sisters hair for them)
sorry idk man i yapped a bit 🤷♀️
#this was so much longer than i intended it to be#but you brought this horse to the water and by god was she thirsty#answering asks#i was born for this#iwbft#osemanverse#alice oseman#the ark#jimmy kaga ricci#lister bird#rowan omondi#bliss lai#juliet schwartz#angel rahimi
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Student Council (Final Rose)
"Not that I have any particular objections," Weiss drawled. "But why is Averia the student council president? I was under the impression that she wasn't going to run for the position."
"I didn't." Averia's eye twitched as her attention shifted to a certain blonde. "Jahne, do you have anything you'd like to confess."
Jahne nodded seriously. "I must confess to my crimes." Her eyes twinkled. "I have defiled Weiss most utterly. Why, I daresay there was hardly a surface, vertical or horizontal, that remained uncorrupted during our most recent mission - gah!"
Averia lowered the hand she'd used to throw an eraser. The piece of stationery wouldn't normally have done any damage at all, but she'd put a bit of Aura into it. "Stop being obnoxious. You know that's not what I meant."
"Well..." Jahne said, rubbing at her forehead. "I may have submitted a nomination in your name."
"... I was under the impression that wasn't allowed."
"I may also have forged your signature."
"The form also requires an Aura signature."
"I may also have conspired with Diana to forge that too."
"..." Averia took a deep breath. "My sister is very lucky that I love her, and you are very lucky that we are friends. Explain yourself."
Jahne cringed as Averia glared. "I'll keep it simple. Given the demands on the student council president and the variety of duties that must be completed, you were the best choice by a considerable margin."
"Really?"
"Based on my projections, you're at least three times as effective as anyone else. Your combination of unrelenting tyranny, popularity, and grasp of logistics, and other key disciplines means that you can use the position of president to enact key reforms while pursuing other agendas at the same time."
"I assume some of those agendas will be yours."
"Yes." Jahne shrugged. "Positioning you as president ensured the maximum good for the maximum number of people. It seemed a waste for you to avoid the position."
"And why did no one else run? Did you intimidate them into conceding?"
"No. You did." Jahne cackled. "Once people realised you were running, they all pulled out. Pretty much everybody who wanted that position should be approaching you in the next few days about a position on the student council."
"And did you consider that I might refuse the position?"
"Knowing you, I was quite confident that you'd accept it once you 'won' since you'd be annoyed if you had to cede it to someone less capable. You are, perhaps, a tad predictable in that way."
"I see." Averia took a deep breath. And then her Aura flared as she loosened her grip on Saviour. An oppressive weight crashed down on Jahne. The blonde suddenly found it difficult to even breathe, never mind move or think. "Jahne, you are one of my closest friends. But I swear, if you ever pull any crap like this again, you are going to regret it? Am I clear?"
Jahne made a choking sound.
"Averia," Weiss hissed. She trembled, unable to move from her seat. "Averia!"
"Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear." Jahne managed to grind out.
"Good." The pressure lessened, and light enveloped Jahne. Whatever damage she'd taken was reversed. Averia's eyes narrowed. "I trust you, Jahne. Don't take that trust for granted."
Averia stood and walked out of the room. "I assume we're still on for tea this Thursday?"
"Of course."
Weiss hurried over to Jahne once Averia had left. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Jahne's lips twitched. "I might have gone a little too far this time."
"Is... is that going to be a problem going forward?" Weiss asked. Pissing off Averia was not at all a good idea even if Diana and Jahne were best friends.
"It's fine." Jahne took a deep breath. "Every now and then I need a reminder that people aren't pieces on a board. Besides, Averia isn't that mad at me. Otherwise, she'd have waited for me to lose consciousness before cutting off Saviour. Dust, I'd almost forgotten how terrifying Saviour's pressure is."
Weiss nodded slowly. She'd been unable to move at all, and she hadn't even been the target of Averia's ire. "What's she going to do to Diana?"
"Remind her that she is the big sister and what that means."
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What are three names you like that start with the same letter as your fist name?
Henry, Hattie, Harriet.
How old will you turn on your next birthday?
34.
What are three things you like about your birth month (besides it being the month your birthday is in)?
Pumpkin things start appearing, the leaves start changing, it’s also Mark’s birthday month.
…and what are three things you dislike about it?
It’s still hot af most days but all the water parks/pools/beaches are closed, work starts piling up because the students are back, and it’s the end of summer, which gives me such a weird, melancholy, nostalgic feeling.
List three celebrities that are the same height as you.
Amy Poehler, Nikki Minaj, Salma Hayek (who also shares my birthday lol).
Are you happy with your height, or do you wish you were shorter or taller? Why?
I’m fine with being 5′2″.
Which family member did you inherit your hair color from?
My mom was blonde as a kid and her hair turned brown and my sister and my hair did too, so I guess her.
List three things in nature that are the same color as your eyes. 👀
Pine trees, grass, moss.
Are you happy with your current weight, or do you wish you weighed more or less?
I am not.
If applicable, how many pounds do you want to lose?
Ideally I’d be good under 250lbs.
How many years has it been since you were last a student enrolled in school? 🏫
It’s been a while.
What was your favorite class in high school?
Social sciences.
How many sisters do you have?
One.
How many brothers do you have?
Zero.
If you had a twin sister, what would she be named?
I don’t know, maybe Matilda or Rosalita, like my almost names were? Or maybe I’d have a completely different name?
How many dogs have you had in your lifetime? 🐶
Just one.
How many cats have you had in your lifetime? 🐈
Seven.
Do you prefer dogs or cats?
Cats.
Where was your dad born?
In Chicago.
Where was your mom born?
In Lexington, TN.
Where were you born?
Chicago.
Have you ever met anyone unrelated to you that had the same last name as you?
Yes, once. My last name is very uncommon, especially in the states, so that was a trip.
How many sister-in-laws do you have?
One.
How many brother-in-laws do you have?
Two.
How many nieces do you have?
Two.
How many nephews do you have?
One, by marriage.
How many of your grandparents are still living?
Zero.
Are you good at taking pictures? 📸
Sure.
What are three things you’ve been complimented on?
My creativity, my hair, my humor..
What is your dream job?
Event planner.
…and are you currently working in your dream job?
I don’t get paid to do it but I do plan parties for my nieces lol.
Do you consider yourself spiritual?
A little, sure.
Do you consider yourself religious?
Not at all.
Do you have a positive or negative view of the word “religion”?
Mostly negative, especially living in the states. Religion seems to dictate a lot of hate and I can’t get behind that. I know there are positives to religion, but my first instinct is to dismiss any and all religions.
Do you have a positive or negative view of the word “spiritual”?
I have a more positive view of that word because to me, it means you can believe in a higher power without necessarily following a religion, which is something I can get behind.
Who is the most spiritual person you know?
My mom followed the belief I mentioned above pretty consistently.
When was the last time you stepped foot inside of a church? ⛪️
Oh buddy I can’t even tell you.
Do you regularly attend church? Why or why not? ⛪️
Nope. Because I do not follow a religion.
Have you ever been to a mosque? 🕌
I don’t think so.
Have you ever been to a synagogue? 🕍
I have, if I remember correctly.
What is your favorite religious holiday?
I guess Christmas is technically a religious holiday.
If applicable, does your faith mean a lot to you?
Not applicable.
Do you have the same worldview as your parents?
for the most part.
Have you ever attended a Christian school? 🏫
I went to a Lutheran high school unfortunately.
How often do you pray? 🙏
Never.
Have you ever danced in church? 💃
Uhh maybe?
Have you ever been baptized, and if so, where and how were you baptized? 🌊
I was not baptized.
How many presidential elections have you voted in? 🗳️
2008, 2012, 2016, 202, if I remember correctly. 2008 is a little hazy.
Are you happy with the current state of your nation?
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
How many different medications do you normally take daily? 💊
I don’t take any.
Which medication(s) do you hate the most, and why?
I never really hated any that I’ve had to take.
Is your current doctor a male or female?
Male.
Do you prefer male or female doctors? Why?
I don’t care for the most part.
How is your mental health? How has it been lately?
LOL.
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(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)
I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
1.9k words
Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee ☕
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.
You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.
You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.
Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.
"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.
"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.
"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.
"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.
Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.
"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.
"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.
You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.
At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.
"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.
"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.
"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.
"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.
"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.
You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.
"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."
Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.
"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.
"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.
"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.
"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.
"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.
"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.
"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.
"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.
Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.
Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.
"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.
"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.
"Um I d-don't-"
"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.
Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.
You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.
"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.
"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.
Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.
"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.
Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.
"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.
"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.
"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.
You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.
"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."
"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.
"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.
"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.
"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.
"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.
"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.
"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.
You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.
Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.
"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.
"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.
You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.
"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.
"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.
"So fucking cum."
#carol danvers#captain marvel#brie larson#captain marvel imagines#captain marvel x reader#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers imagines#marvel#captain marvel smut#carol danvers smut#jock!carol danvers#jock!carol
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Alone together
Yandere!Dainsleif x gn!reader
Wordcount: 2011
CW: Yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, PTSD
Khaenri’ah burns. Skies turn red, as tall pillars of smoke arise in the place of ruined towers. People cry and beg and scream.
“Ah, [First] , you came to help” Lisa greets you, waking up from her half-slumbering state: “Welcome, welcome. I already made some tea for you, just let me”. The librarian stretches and yawns akin to a cat, after she stands up from the counter, flashing you one of her charming smiles afterwards: “Go and fetch it. We will work after the tea”.
Something in her voice leaves no room for argument, so you sit at the offered table, eyes immediately shifting to the nearby window, mostly out of habit. Skies are blue and clear, buildings are whole and steady, people are laughing and cheering outside. It’s a sight that brings you heartache and comfort at the same time - no one should be subjected to what you had to live through, whether they worship the seven or not.
“And here it is”, the witch says, holding a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and a plate of cupcakes resting on top of it. The next fifteen minutes are spent drinking and carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular: Lisa is an excellent company, adept at maintaining the conversation interesting and atmosphere comfortable, her wide array of knowledge and keen intellect keeping you on your toes throughout the exchange despite the advantage of experience you happen to possess.
The brief tea party is then followed by the shared work of deciphering ancient documents, the librarian sometimes turns to you asking for the meaning of one word or another - most of the texts are written in Khaenri’ahn or archaic forms of the modern languages.
She doesn’t pry why you happen to possess such intrinsic knowledge on the long dead language, nor does she ask anything about your star-shaped pupils - she must have seen the descendants of your compatriots, then. You know there live at least two - one with tan skin and a warm smile that never reaches his cold eyes and a blonde youth with the powers of khemia rolling under his palms. There’s no courage to approach them.
You in turn share Khaenri’ah’s greatest legacy - knowledge and science that helped your nation to outpace the deities and turn them against you. It’s a nice feeling - making sure that the thing your people cherished the most will not be forgotten, even if it’s given to archon worshippers. Five centuries ago the thought of educating Teyvatians would be laughable to you - there’s no use in it, they will continue to believe in their gods - you would dismiss it, but now nationless you have no choice but to do it - it’s the only way to keep the products of your people alive. To keep the memory of your people alive.
Khaenri’ah burns. You run across the collapsing city, eyes growing wider as you see people slowly morphing into something. It’s bestial and feral, primitive. Your breath hitches, you want to scream.
“[First]?”, it’s Lisa again, she lightly taps your shoulder, a hint of concern creeps into her voice
“Ah? Everything is fine, I just zoned off” you reply, too quickly and too strained to be believable. Who could have known that even after five hundred years the flashbacks of what happened on that day will still haunt you? They trail your thoughts like determined hounds, sneaking up on you in the most inopportune times. One moment you are talking to someone, the second you relive the fall of Khaenri’ah. The memory feels too real to be a fantasy, leaving your thoughts messy, anxious and disordered, as you shake and try to calm yourself.
“Are you sure?”, she stands up from her seat and makes a couple of quick steps to you, taking a good look at your face: you must look horrible, you think, those episodes always leave you panting and on the verge of panic.
“Maybe we should continue tomorrow, there’s no use in haste, it’s not like our documents will run away”, Lisa continues, massaging circles into your shoulder - her hand is warm and comforting, grounding. You want to thank her for this - the understanding tone and the way she caresses you right now, helping you to keep the link with reality, but the words get stuck in your throat - it’s too much and too scary, to admit what just has happened not only to her, but to yourself too.
“Yes”, you finally force out of yourself, nodding along the way: “it would be for the better”. Your voice is still too tense and strained, filled with the grief for the people and places long past, but Lisa, to your relief, doesn’t point out any of it. You quickly gather your belongings and leave the library, almost forgetting to bid a farewell to the witch as you exit.
The sun begins to set as you make your way to the rented house, it’s small and nondescript, a complete opposite of the one you had in Liyue. You used to work as a scholar in the harbor before He found you again - you fled your spacious and cozy apartments in less than a day, leaving almost all of your possessions behind.
The thoughts of what had happened still buzz in your mind - you want to scream and cry, you want to vent to someone, but the words you will utter will be in pure khaenri’ahn they won’t understand you.
You think of finally approaching that star-eyed cavalry captain, Kaeya, maybe he saw what you witnessed too. You think of Albedo, who carries the same energy all khaenri’ahn constructs do. You want to ask him about his creator, you want to talk with him about Khemia. You think of Barbatos who wears the form of the cheerful bard, you want to accuse and scream and hit him.
You do nothing as the power leaves your body the same second - it’s scary, so scary to verbalize that, to talk and share and relive, and approaching any of those three means doing exactly so.
You stay inside instead, calming your beating heart and kicking out intrusive thoughts, and only when your pulse returns to the norm you allow yourself to finally stand up. The world is shaky and unreliable, but some things stay the same. Your room for example - you have a habit of leaving things in specific places, as a way to keep you grounded. There’s a comfort in familiarity - the one you desperately need.
Your eyes shift from one object to the other, until they stumble across something that sends your heart racing again. The cup you use is shifted by a couple of inches, facing you by the opposite side, there’s a flower and a note lying beside it. The words are in khaenri’ahn, the handwriting is familiar too.
Khaenri’ah burns. Your lungs do too from the sheer overexertion and fatigue, but you keep pushing further and further - you can’t give up yet, not when He needs you. A name forms on your lips.
Thousand of thoughts form in your mind, they’re panicked, fast and disjointed - flee again, cut and dye your hair, change the name too - you can start over in Inazuma again, it’s a closed country, so if you will manage to get in, it will be harder for him to track you again.
Who are you kidding?
Unlike you, he has a core of steel, an unwavering determination to settle things his way or die trying - be it opposing Celestia or gaining you. It was always like that, with the Twilight sword being stubborn to a fault - he never budged or surrendered, not when Khaenri’ah was still proudly standing, and not now, when there’s nothing but the charred remains of your homeland.
You met him when you got accepted into the Royal order, where a Konungr paired you with Him. The twilight sword was unrelenting in his pursuits even then, a trait that you both admired and feared in equal volume. The collapse of your nation only worsened this quality - if back then he was striving to supervise and oversee everything, then the tragedy exacerbated his controlling tendencies even further.
You were travelling together for the first fifty years after the fall, both affected by the same curse, as he started getting possessive. It began in innocuous things: asking where you were, what you were doing, you didn’t pay much attention back then, celestial wrath still fresh in your memory - he was just cautious you told yourself, it’s a safety measure.
But then these safety measures grew from simply inquiring about your day to accompanying you almost everywhere, and then it all culminated in Him locking you up, to keep you away from leaving.
You escaped then, and avoided him ever since, departing your residence the second you caught the wind of his possible proximity. Years turned into decades that later morphed into centuries, and you began to grow lax - he was getting closer and closer to you with each turn. The first time you had a suspicion of him being near you packed your things the same second and spent countless days traversing the land by hidden passageways, careful not to leave any traces, and now, now you still sit in your house, despite having evidence of him knowing where you are.
Maybe you grew tired of the cat and mouse game, maybe you just accepted that your recapture is inevitable and all your little escapes do nothing, but set it off for a couple of months, or maybe you’re just that lonely. It doesn’t matter, really, as you make no attempt to do anything - it’s useless, he already knows your location.
Khaenri’ah burns. You cry and you hate yourself - for weakness, for helplessness, for still being alive and sane. He stays near you as a silent shadow, his blue eyes shifting from your crying face to the wreckage of the city. There are no words shared between you that day - you’re crushed and empty, yet bare and aching at the same time.
“Dainsleif”, you greet him, once you hear the squeak of the opening door. He doesn’t look that different from five hundred years ago, but now his eyes are both more tired and alive with fervent light.
“[First]”, he simply replies, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer - there’s adoration and worship in his tone. He almost falls to his knees, as he takes your hands in his, capturing them in a steel trap.
“[First], I finally have you, [first]”, he murmurs, bringing your palm to his face. You don’t resist him, knowing it’s futile. His skin feels just like all those years ago - rough and dry, weathered down by the demanding lifestyle he leads. He gives a shy peck to your inner wrist, blue eyes intently watching you as he does so.
“Long time no see, Dain”, you start, trying to diffuse the tension in the air, as he grabs you by the chin and forces you into a kiss. He kisses with the desperation of a dying person, one of his hands firmly holding your head, the other starts to explore your body. It feels obscene. You are lightheaded, when he finally parts and hugs you again, still chanting “[First]” over and over again.
You allow him this liberty too, feeling a prick of pity in your heart. You know what it is - to be the sole survivor, too see your own people crumble and fall and transform. You know that he returns to that place again and again, reliving the same moment against his will. You know that he gasps and shivers when the memories get too real and overwhelming.
You both are children of the fallen nation, and there's no person in the world who could understand you better than he does. Maybe, you shouldn't have run, you think, listening to Dainsleif speak in Khaenri’ahn. There's a chain of connection between you two, it's unbreakable, forged in shared losses, tears and pain.
Khaenri’ah burns. It burns in both of you.
#yandere genshin impact#yandere dainsleif x reader#Yandere dainsleif#Dainsleif x reader#Dainsleif#Yandere genshin#genshin impact x reader#Yandere genshin x reader#Yandere#Yandere male#Genshin impact#Introverted atheist w/ 0 people skills? I kin#my writing
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Our Goddess In Love and War
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Yandere! Royal! Pillarmen x Reader
Summary: Reader-Darling is a girl that lives in a village close to the kingdom ruled by the three kings: Esidisi, Whamuu and Kars. She doesn’t see what everyone else sees in them, and keeps away, but one day, she’ll catch their eyes, and they won’t ever leave her.
Warnings: smut later on in this chapter, yandere behavior, obsession, possessiveness, death, mentions of torture, jealously, Kars puts his foot down with disrespectful maids, reader-chan tries to leave because of threats.
A/n: I apologize for how long this took, But i’m glad to be back writing my big series! I hope you guys enjoy this long awaited chapter update!
(Unrelated but i was listening to Montero by Lil Nas X while writing this, and It was giving me Mad Kars vibes lol but I’m gonna put my playlist for this story at the bottom)
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I sighed and plopped down onto my comfy bed and slipped out of the dress and heels, I didn’t care about my hair, I’d just get up and wash in the morning. I snuggled into my pillow, at first I didn’t want to do any of this, but now I can’t help but feel some type of attraction to the male. I mean he’s going to officially be my husband in a few days, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong..
….And something bad was gonna happen….
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(First Pov)
I was nervous.
I was dressed in a wonderful purple dress, a slit along the side, matching golden heels on my feet. Several maids were running around my room, preparing everything for me. My hair was styled and had many pieces of golden jewelry dangling off my body, I smiled at myself in the mirror.
“I can’t believe this is happening…”
A few giggles were heard around me, one maid with blonde hair and baby blue eyes smiled at me. Her name is Liza, she was the maid in charge of making sure that I was perfect for events like this. She was the only other person in charge of my dress besides Stella. Liza speaks up as she places the finishing touches on me,
“Oh Believe it My Queen, We can tell how much his majesty loves you, so we are happy!” She says, giving me a twirl as the other maids clapped. I nod smiling along with the women before a rapid knock was heard at the door. All of us turned towards the door and let out a sigh as it was only Stella at the door. Stella gives a sheepish smile as she walks in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but his majesty is asking for his Queen.” She says. Liza and the other maids nod, picking up the end of my dress, I began walking out the door with the girls following close behind me.
As we walked down the hallways, they were decorated with (f/c) flowers, gold and various other precious metals aligned the hall we walked down. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the people outside, nervousness creeping right back up on me. I took a deep breath as two guards opened the door revealing me to the outside world.
Many cheers were heard, so many people were screaming and yelling. I winced at the bright light, a deep chuckle came from behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. I tensed up a bit, only earning a laugh. “My love there is no need to be afraid, it is just me..”
I sigh and relax a bit, Kars felt strangely warm and comfortable, i felt his hands move down to my hips as he moves us both forward.
We stood on top of the stairs, both of us waving to the crowd, I giggle at some of the kids that I met in the village yelling to me and holding up signs that said. ‘We are best friends with the Queen’. Kars stepped away from me slightly, and I let out a soft whine before I knew it, I blushed, quite embarrassed but Kars just chuckled again.
“Save your whines for tonight my love, Because I’ll have you saying and thinking nothing but my name.” He whispered in my ear before stepping away to get the crown.
My face went completely red as I tried to regain my composure, I walked down the stairs to greet some of the townspeople. Smiling as a group of kids handed me a pretty bouquet of flowers, “Why thank you all.”
“Your welcome Miss (y/n)!” “Will we be able to visit you in the castle?” “Is the king nice?” “Are you gonna have kids of your own?” I laughed at the many questions they asked before getting taken away and scolded lightly by their parents.
“(y/n)!!” “Oh my baby you look wonderful!”
I looked up and had a half smile, My mother and sister walked up to me, both of them with tears in their eyes. I rolled my eyes but took both of them into my arms, allowing some tears down my face. Though I still held some anger towards my mom for just giving me up, but I couldn’t help myself, I was glad to have her in my arms.
“My love, Please come up here, It is time.”
I stand up and turn to walk back up, seeing Kars with the same beautiful crown that I saw when I first arrives, the jewel dangling beautifully from it. A smile graced my lips as I stood right infront Kars, I felt a feeling of Joy in my body, the fear that I had when I first came was slowly going away. Kars returned the look as he turned to face the crowd.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, We are gathered here today to celebrate the arrival of my Beautiful, Wonderful and Lovely Queen.” Kars started, I nod along, watching his every movement, He was beautiful, an absolute masterpiece. I still wondered what he would want with a half baked potato like me. I was pulled out of my trance by a weight on my head, realizing he had placed the crown on top of my head. He looked down at me with a look that I’ve never seen before on him, Care, Love, like he genuinely loved me. He then turned back to the crowd pulling me close to him.
“I do hope that you all will continue to watch over us, and grow alongside us.” He spoke before placing a hand underneath my chin. He lifts it slightly before leaning down to capture my lips in a soft, loving kiss, I was shocked, but only for a bit. I soon wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. This must’ve surprised him because he pulled away slightly and whispered. “Oh you little minx~ Just wait until we get behind closed doors..” He placed another quick kiss on my lips before backing away and waving to the cheering crowd. He placed a hand on my lower back as I raised my hand to wave as well, seeing many of the crowd was moved to tears.
I guess seeing one of their own go from literally rags to riches is enough to get anyone crying.
Kars led me back inside, humming to himself softly, his hand firmly placed on my hip. “Kars..may I ask a question?” I ask, making the male let out a soft laugh. “My love, You just did.. But go ahead” He teased, making me puff out my cheeks in tiny annoyance. I sighed and went ahead with asking my question. “Um..Is it okay if my Mom and Sister come and live with us?”
Kars stopped walking, I thought it was because of what I said, but sighed with relief when he was just opening his room, well our room door. He ushered me inside and closed the door behind him. “Of course they can, My Darling…” He started, locking the door, pulling it to make sure it was secured. “But that’s not what I’m worried about right now.” He purrs, a sultry undertone in his voice. I could feel another blush coming on, I went to sit on the bed and just flopped on my back. I let out a groan of satisfaction as to how soft his bed was, making Kars let out a low growl, one that sent shivers down my spine.
“You do not know how hard it was for me to not take you where we stood.”
I let out a squeak as the male was now on top of me, I didn’t notice that he had moved from his place by the door. He placed his face in the crook of my neck as he kept me pinned down, strong hands holding mine against the bed. He let out another low growl as he continued. “It took everything in me to not take you in front of the crowd, Letting them all know that you belong to me now.” He finished, placing kisses on the side of my neck. I could only let out a sigh of content as his kisses moved lower. I watched as he hovered over my chest, which was still covered by the fabric of the dress. He sat up and smirked, I looked at him confused before in one movement he ripped the dress. Going up from the slit until it reached my chest, he then removed the torn fabric from my body, chuckling at my reaction to the coldness of the room.
“I’ll buy you another one, my love, but right now, I need you more than ever.” He said, he then lifted my legs up onto his shoulder, earning another noise of shock from me. He let out another groan of annoyance before ripping my panties from my body. I shuddered at the new cold, but before I could comment, I let out a loud moan. Kars smirked before giving another long teasing lick “Don’t worry about me tonight. It’s all about you Darling, but after tonight, I will not hold back.” He says before he started to tongue fuck me. A completely new feeling that already having me seeing stars and it did not help that Kars was unrelenting either.
He pulled back a bit licking the slick that was left on his lips off before rubbing two fingers against my folds. He looked at me as if asking for permission, and when I gave him a soft nod he smirked once more, slowly pushing two of his fingers into me. He groaned at the sounds that I was making, he picked up the pace quickly, barely giving me anytime to adjust.
“K-kars..” I moaned out, my hands gripping the smooth silk sheets below me. He hummed in response, glancing back over to me. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” He asked teasingly as he increased the speed of his digits, I squirmed underneath him as I struggled to find the words to say. “D-don’t..” I managed to moan, feeling a knot building up, I was close and he seemed to know it. “Say it my love, I know you are enjoying this so much, the way you are clenching around just my fingers. It makes me wonder how you’ll take my cock~” My body automatically reacted to his teasing words, my hips bucking against his fingers, his pace brutal now. “D-don’t hold back..” I couldn’t even believe what I was saying just now. I’ve only had sex once before and it was clumsly to say the least, so for me to practically beg the King not to hold back was surprising.
He must’ve been surprised too because began chuckling before full on laughing, he removed his fingers causing me to let out a whine.
“My Darling woman, are you sure?” He asked as he stood up off of the bed. I nodded, my head cloudy, still whining from feeling empty. Kars quietly removed his bottoms, kicking them somewhere off to the side of the room, he pull me by my legs to the end of the bed.
I looked at his face, and a different expression was there. Lust. Eyes clouded over as he looked over my body. He teasingly pressed himself up against my folds and I gasped. Looking down this man was probably 9.5 inches with about a 1.5 girth, ‘How in the hell is that supposed to fit in me?!’ I thought.
Kars chuckled at the expression on my face. “I know, i know my love, I’m going to take my time so you can get adjusted.” He says, slowly guiding himself inside me. Just from his head, I already felt like he wouldn’t fit, but as he slowly inched more and more inside, he stretched me out wonderfully. Once he was fully inside of me, he gave a slow experimental thrust, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips back. I cried out in pain and pleasure, he set a slow pace, everytime, he snapped his hips in just the right way to hit that spot. The pain was fading fast, and I wanted more than this slow pace he had.
“Kars..Please just fuck me…”
My words must’ve made him snap, soon after those words left my lips he began thrusting at a more violent and fast pace, making me cry out in pleasure. His name was falling off my lips like a mantra, He was hitting just the right spot everytime. I managed to look up at him, his eyes were half open, jaw locked as he let some groans and grunts. One thrust had me seeing stars, I did not care how loud i was being at this point and I’m pretty sure any servant that walked by could hear.
One of Kars hands slowly snaked its was up to my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, Tell me darling.” He growled out. I moaned out his name loud, practically screaming it at this point. He smirked “Louder. I want them to know who you belong to (y/n)”
“You Kars!”
“Louder!”
“KARS!”
I cried out feeling that familiar knot unraveling, I could feel myself clenching around his cock, making him curse and growl.
“That’s it..That’s it..You’re mine, No one else's..”
He moans out, feeling his thrust start to get sloppy until that came to a complete halt and he was spilling his seed into me. He stayed in place until he finished before slowly pulling out. He moved to lay beside me and pull me into his chest. I turned to give him a kiss but he just held me in place. “Shh..My Love, You’re tired..Let's just rest, Tomorrow you can relax all day and I’ll have someone come check in on you.” He mumbled, running his hand through my hair, I hummed in response, feeling sleep starting to creep up on me.
“I love you Kars..” I mutter, feeling my eyes getting heavy, I hear him chuckle and place a kiss on my forehead.
“I love you too My Darling~...”
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When I awoke,it was still dark outside.
I was dressed in a nightgown and Kars was gone, I yawned softly and got up out of bed. I nearly fell because the feeling in my legs was barely there, I blushed remembering the activities. I slowly made my way to the door only to have someone else open the door.
“Ah Good Hello Stell-”
“Don’t you Hello me you whore.”
I was taken back by her words and angry expression. “Excuse me?” I was confused. She let out a yell of frustration. “It’s your fault! You are the reason I am not Queen! A common bitch like you!” She barked. I was hurt, I thought of Stella as a nice woman, but now she’s showing a totally different side of herself. I moved to push past her and head out the door but her words made me stop.
“Hell You’re just gonna be like the other girl before you!”
I stopped and turned to face her. “Say what?” She laughed at me before crossing her arms. “You thought you were picked out because they thought you were interesting? No, It’s because you look like Kar’s previous wife. He killed her. He only wants someone who is powerful enough to use the stone thats on the crown.” She saunters her way over to my crown and holds it in her hands. “You’re just going to be another dead body.”
I stood horrified, Mom told me that the previous Queen had died of illness, not that she was killed by Kars. “No..No He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me.” Stella lets out another loud laugh before looking at me with a deadpan look. “He told me that too. He told me he loves me and that I’m special. I was going to be queen if it wasn’t for you.” She growled, marching forward, “So why don’t you do me a favor and run away. Run far from here..So that My King, no my Husband would have to dirty his hand with more blood” She said.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I ran out of the room, hearing her evil cackles from the room.
I went up to several maids and butlers to ask where Kars and the other kings were, but even they would not talk to me. I could feel even more tears run down my face as I ran through the halls, I burst open a door feeling the coldness of the outside and run down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Kars himself talking to a guard. I turned to take another way around the castle, an exit that I saw earlier when I first arrived. It was cold,I was freezing, but I couldn’t not bring myself to look Kars in the face anymore. What if I was just another body? What if he’ll ditch me and get another woman? Hell, if Stella said was true, was he just using me?
So many thoughts were running through my head, I didn’t even notice that I had bumped into someone. “I’m s-sorry..”
“My Queen, what are you doing out?” It was Esidisi, I gasped and began crying even more as I dropped to my knees. “He doesn’t love me Esi! He..He is..Just using me..” I cried out, my cries loud and echoing off the outside walls. Multiple footsteps could be heard running up to us.”My Darling?” I hear Kars call out, I continue to cry, I should have known that royalty like him wouldn’t love a commoner like me. I might as well give up the crown and just go home.
I could feel someone pick me up and hold me bridal style in their arms. “Esidisi. What is she doing out here?” “I don’t know, She ran into me crying about how you do not truly love her and you are using her.” I heard Kars suck in breath and hold me even tighter. “Who said this to you?” He asked me. I shook my head and kept crying, he shushed me and carried me back inside.
He holds me in his arms continuously telling me how much he loved me and to not listen to those rumors. When he entered the main ballroom where most maids were cleaning. “Excuse me. Who in the world told my Queen that I don’t love her?” he barked. I wiped my eyes, watching as each and everyone of the servants who gave me the cold shoulder. Kars sucked his teeth before moving to carry me like i was a child so he could have a free hand. He gripped one maid by her hair, making her let out an ear piercing scream. “I said tell me.”
“AH One of the Head maids your majesty!! She started spreading rumors, but Stella tried to stop her but she kept going.” I rolled my eyes knowing this fully to be a lie. Kars threw her across the room with his brute strength. “Oh you’ll receive a proper punishment soon. But now I have to deal with my Queen.” He said coldly, moving back to holding me with two arms. I lay my head comfortable on Kars shoulder, my cheeks stained with tears as I ended up falling back asleep in his arms.
“My Queen, don’t you worry..I will find out who did this to you..who lied on my name and made you feel unworthy of my love.”
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To say he was pissed was an understatement. Kars had laid (y/n) back in their shared bed, he then charged in the servant quarters scaring all of them.
Those servants wished that they would have spoken up, or comforted the queen in that moment, they suffered severe beatings, threats and some of them were even sent to the dungeon.
All while Stella Listened and laughed.
“One step closer...Just one step closer.”
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I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
My playlist for this entire story is
Montero By Lil Nas X
Alejandro and Bad Romance by Lady Gaga
Streets By Doja Cat
Paparazzi: Kim Dracula
What songs does this story make you think of?
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#pillarmen#jjba pillarmen#yandere pillarmen#pillarmen x reader#Yandere Kars x reader#kars x reader#jjba kars#yandere kars#jjba esidisi#jjba wamuu#jjba#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure#Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken#Jjba x reader#jjba fanfiction#jjba fanfic#x reader#yandere x reader
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Amazing Grace (Doc x OC)
Authors Note: Just a raw, unedited copy of a fanfic from my brain. Need to get it out so I can then start putting up little snippets of conversation/HCs of Doc x Grace. Grace is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, stubborn OC who's not afraid to bite back. But has a slightly softer side with Doc. Our Marines may be a little OOC. I've never written Gen K fanfic before so... Feel free to read it as Doc x Reader if you want.
Grace: Same as the Doc; Navy Hospital Corpsman - except she seems to always spend more time on Land than at Sea. Was with another unit of Marines when they got captured and blown up.
Sticks with the Marines because they could use the extra medical help and a reliable translator. She knows her way around a rifle too so she's not at all useless. Lots of hurt-comfort potential, slow-burn between these two. They rely on deep bond of friendship before romance. They're basically the unofficial couple - except the two are too stupid to realise it.
Plans change all the time. Missions change all the time. It was their job to adapt to changes and execute accordingly. Of course, it came with various complaints, particularly in instances where their original missions were ripped right out from beneath them. Even the Lieutenant knew it was screwing his men over but these things were over his head, and like his men, he – too, had to adapt and execute accordingly.
“Change in plans.” Came the LT’s voice as he walked up to the platoon leaders that were huddled around the front of the Humvee. “That woman soldier that was captured? Our orders are to bust through the town and retrieve her.”
“Sir, not to question the order but that city is extremely hostile. Sending less than 70 men into there…” Brad didn’t need to finish his sentence to say what had been on his mind; that there’s now a high probability that a few men won’t make it out alive.
“We have our orders Brad.”
“Do we know where she is?”
“Our sources say that she’s holed up in an abandoned hospital.”
That presents a lot of complications in itself. They’d have to clear room by room, floor by floor. They’d be at a complete disadvantage because only a few will be going in, the rest of the platoon are to stay on guard outside.
They start shooting the enemy, there’s a chance they’ll hear the gunfire and shoot the woman soldier. ROE remains the same as before; only shoot if you come under threat.
Brad opened his mouth to, perhaps argue against the many arising complications from this order but Doc got in first, “What’s the sit-rep on her condition?” Doc wanting to prepare for what he’s about to walk into, what supplies he’d need to bring.
“No sit-rep was given regarding her condition other than she’s been raped. We do have some intel on her, her name is Grace Westen. She’s a corpsman and been acting as a translator for her unit before they got blown up and had the surviving members captured.”
“On the radio it says that a woman soldier was raped but had her bones broken first. They eventually killed her when she refused to give them information.” Pappy offered a little insight into the possibilities of what could happen.
Green eyes look downcast for a moment as the thought of one of their own soldiers was undergoing something inhumane, but the LT couldn’t linger on that piece of information too long. “It’s unrelated to our mission.”
So that’s what happened. They bust through the city, not as hostile as they first assumed it was going to be. There was still a lot of fighting going on but compared to the last town they assaulted through, this seemed a fair bit easier. It wasn’t until they reached the hospital that things became a little trickier. They don’t know what floor she was on or how many enemy soldiers there were.
They were sitting ducks basically. Shooting at windows could risk shooting Grace when they wanted to retrieve her alive.
Brad, LT, Rudy and Doc were the chosen ones that went in through the building. “Swift. Silent. Deadly. Gentleman.” Nate gently reminded them right before they held their rifles up and began quickly filing through the hospital door, rifles pointing in all directions.
It wasn’t until they reached the third floor that they stumbled upon enemy soldiers -who, unfortunately, were quick to fire at the Marines. So, in true American style, they returned fire. It was the opposite of what Nate had – theoretically, wanted to avoid. But, as such, it was unavoidable.
It wasn’t anything cinematic or spectacular, it was over within moments. No finding the big boss man with his rifle pointing at the woman’s head, offering an ultimatum.
Blood splattered the walls and the naked body of, whom Nate could only assume, was Grace. “Grace Westen?” the blonde nodded and tried to move, either to get out of her restraints her cover up her naked form.
Brad glanced over to see her, blue eyes instinctively giving her a silent once over (idle male curiosity?) but then stood with his back to her, standing on guard by the door. Same as Rudy.
There was a staticky noise as LT radioed in their current Sitrep. “Be advised, we have secured the victim.”
“I’m not a victim!” were the first words to come from Grace. Brad couldn’t help the half-smile at hearing her argue against a Lieutenant. He exchanged a side-glance with Rudy who tilted his head in acknowledgement. Seems like they got a feisty one on their hands.
Nate simply raised his brows but didn’t say anything as he turned from her, walking a few steps away. “We have secured the soldier.” Nate corrected himself. Had Ray been there, he would have definitely made a comment on how the LT’s already pussy-whipped.
“Break. Have Christeson bring up a change of clothes to the 3rdfloor.”
Unfortunately the LT knew to specify a person to come bring a change of clothes, or even just a t-shirt, because the men of the platoon are simply that; men.
While the soldiers stood around on guard, Doc was quick to work the restraints that had Grace tied to the bedpost. “Corpsman – right? Can you give me a medical update.” Doc said as he worked the ropes. “I’m fine.”
“You know they say that Doctors make the worst patients.”
“I’m not a patient. I’m not a victim. I’m fine.” Grace argued back. It was bad enough being a woman soldier amongst Marines, but to be a woman soldier who was stripped of her dignity and raped? That hurt worst than the actual act of it happening.
“Well, I’m the Doctor here, so I’ll decide whether you’re fine or not.” Doc murmured as he undid the last rope that was holding her right wrist to the bed post.
As soon as she was free, she wrapped her arms around the doc’s neck, pulling him into an embrace. A quiet, murmured “Thank you.” She hadn’t expected to do such a thing, and it was evident he certainly hadn’t expected the embrace. But his arms slowly found themselves wrapping around her frame, and hugging her. He offered no words of comfort, what could he say? She’s safe now? They’re in a fucking warzone.
Brad and Rudy stopped Christeson before he could walk into the room (though, there was no point since Grace was still out in the open for everyone to see – particularly through the broken window. All he could find was a spare T-shirt and a blanket for her lower half. “It’s all I could find for now.”
“It’ll do. Thanks.” LT said as he stood between Brad and Rudy to retrieve the clothes.
Christeson offered a small smile and nod before turning to leave.
LT turned
back and gave the clothes to Grace, who quickly put the shirt on and closed her eyes in relief. It was nice to feel covered again. “What happened to your uniform?” LT asked as Doc checked over her wrists where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw.
“They burnt it. To strip me of my dignity, I think. Psychological shit. They messed with the wrong woman. When I didn’t give them the reaction that they wanted…well…” LT nodded in understanding. “Fucking dirty motherfuckers.” Doc murmured.
Grace’s fingers had been gently resting on Doc’s palm as he looked her wrists, when she grave his hand a small squeeze, causing his eyes to glance up at her. “I’m honestly fine. I’ve been through worse and survived.” Her deep blue eyes bored into Doc’s blue ones. He held her gaze momentarily. She had a point but it didn’t stop him from worrying a little.
“If she’s fine, we’re Oscar mike.” LT said, wanting to get his men out of the town and back onto their original mission.
Swinging her legs off the bed, Grace quickly wrapped the blanket around her waist like a towel. Managing to methodically fold the top part down into a belt-like band to keep it as secured as possible around her waist. The shirt looked too big on her but it was better than nothing.
“We’ll see about getting you some clothes when we reach out next stopping point.” Nate said as he watched Doc stand by Grace’s side, ready to help her up should she need it. But being the stubborn blondie that she is, she stood up and waited orders.
Brad and Rudy lead the way, LT and Doc in the back. The lack of weapon made Grace feel more exposed now than she did with no clothes on. As soon as she walked outside, quite a few men were itching to get a good look at her but LT took her to his truck and allowed her to climb in first, using the canopy cover as a shield from perverted eyes.
As they travelled on, Nate tried to find out what their next step with Grace was.
For now, she’s to ride with them until they reach their next stop.
~ [A quick and lazy timeskip]
Grace was never without an escort. Particularly for the first few days. Not out of safety reasons for enemies and lack of a weapon provided for her, but safety from the men of her platoon. Granted, if anybody tried anything, they’d get kicked out of the military entirely.
They’d manage to get her some clothes, a set of small pants and a belt to hold them up since they were still a couple sizes too big on her. Until they can get supplies to them, she’ll have to make do.
Gunny sat in the front, eating out of an MRE when Doc came up to check on Grace, who was quietly sitting in the truck. “Hey.”
Blue eyes glance up and to her left as she watches the Doc climb in the back of the Humvee. “How’s the pain?”
She stretches out her bandaged wrists, inspecting them herself. “Manageable.” Before clasping her hands back together.
“May I?” Doc asks. Grace offers her hands to him as he gently takes it, inspecting her wrists himself. He carefully undoes the bandages and changes out the gauze.
Despite how angry he looks all the time, he’s surprisingly soft and gentle. Perhaps it’s just a corpsman thing. When you’re under attack, you’re a soldier. When you’re administering medicine, you’re a Doctor…
“I could have done this myself.” She stubbornly said but Doc gave her a look that clearly said ‘Doctors make the worst patients’ but he left it unspoken out of slight fear that she’d argue she wasn’t a patient or victim. He respected her enough not to label her as such.
“How long were you there?” Doc quietly asked.
“Days, I think. Felt like weeks.”
“How many times did they…?”
“… I lost count.”
Doc went quiet. He didn’t know what to say to that. His features seemed to have hardened a little as he redid her bandages.
“They intended to keep me there purely for that purpose. They weren’t aware I could speak Arabic, knew what they were saying.”
“Fuck, Grace.”
She hummed softly, glancing up at him as he glanced up at her. She wore a soft smile but he doesn’t return the smile. Just stares. Wondering how the hell she can still smile after all she’s been through.
“It’s okay.” She simply says. Really not much else she can say or do. What’s happened, happened. It is what it is and she knew this would be a possible outcome for her when she took on the deployment.
“It’s not.”
“…No, it’s not.” She softly agrees but what else can she say…
It’s since then that she only ever opened up to the Doc. Tiny little snippets but he doesn’t mind. Gunny and LT have noticed that the Doc always seems a little less pissed off when he’s with Grace. And the two seemed to find themselves navigating toward each other whenever the platoon has stopped for the evening with no specific orders.
#generation kill fanfiction#generation kill#generation kill x oc#generation kill x reader#Generation Kill Doc Bryan#Generation Kill LT#nate fick#Hitman Two Doc x Grace
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A Luthor’s Gambit
The pneumatic hiss of the sealed doors is a deafening sound in the small space of the decontamination chamber—it reverberates off the metal walls, and the sudden change in pressure moves the air in an imitation of a breeze. It ruffles the stray hairs that have escaped Lena's bun and brings the sterile scent of the containment unit to her nose in one sudden waft.
She's used to it by now, but those first few seconds are always a bit of an adjustment—the hiss of the door, the smell of disinfectant, the hum of the air filtration devices that run 24/7 no matter what... and, of course, the green glow of the room.
There's a faint clacking coming from the other end of the room—the sound of plastic hitting plastic, muted by the constant buzz of the lights and filters and the occasional beeping of monitoring machinery. Everything is white, sterile, and a little unnerving, considering the ominous green of the lamps evenly spaced on the ceiling.
The clacking continues as Lena makes her way in—there is a small table by something that could be described as a window (it is in fact an incredibly complex projection to provide the illusion of one). One of the two metal chairs by said table is occupied by a figure, clad in white, hunched over a chessboard, methodically moving pieces around with determined focus.
“Good morning, doctor,” her subject speaks lowly, without turning to face her. “Or is it afternoon already?”
Lena smiles as she approaches—it's only a little bit forced. “Afternoon,” she says as she takes the seat she has come to think of as hers. “But only just.”
The other woman hums noncommittally. Her blonde hair Is tied into a ponytail, out of her face, and her cool gaze studies the chessboard with unrelenting focus. Lena peers over her clipboard, taking mental notes for the time being as she follows the chess pieces with undisguised interest.
“Are you practicing your openings?”
Clack—another piece finds its place on the board.
“I am working through all the possible variations of the Sicilian Defense.” Clack. “I honestly don't see what all the fuss is about with the Najdorf. But Sveshnikov”—clack— “Sveshnikov's is much more... inspired.” Clack.
Lena leans back, crossing her legs and dashing off short notes on her clipboard. The young woman is used to this, and doesn't speak again until Lena is finished. Their gazes meet over the carefully arranged chess pieces, only for a moment—there is no recognition in the coolness of those blue eyes, and Lena has to pretend it doesn’t affect her.
“You seem to be in better spirits today,” she comments. It's true—despite her withdrawn demeanor, the blonde seems... better. Lighter, somehow. It's good to see it, even if the change is so small it could very well be entirely insignificant.
But it isn't. Not to Lena.
“The agent brought a cat yesterday,” the young woman clarified, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she resets the board.
“Oh?” Lena questions, brow raised. Her hand twitches around the pen she's holding—she holds off the impulse to take more notes. She hadn't been notified of visit yesterday, but she is glad for it. “How was it?” she asks instead, setting the clipboard aside for now, a signal that this is just... a conversation, nothing more.
“It was a kitten,” the blonde clarifies, grinning and holding out her hand. “He was so small—I could hold him with one hand.”
Lena smiles—she can't help it when she sees some genuine happiness in those eyes. “And how did that feel? Holding him?”
There's a pause—the blonde looks at the flexing fingers of her own hand for a few moments, as if remembering the weight of the kitten in her palm. “Fuzzy,” she replies, finally, releasing a little laugh. “And a little pointy. And... warm. He was so small—and cute. He fell asleep on my chest. It was nice.”
“That does sound nice,” Lena agrees. “Maybe Agent Danvers will be able to bring him again sometime soon, huh?”
The young woman's smile widens, and she finally directs her gaze at Lena, and keeps it there. “I would like that—very much. I've never seen a kitten in real life before. It was... nice.”
Lena's smile falters a touch, but she is careful not to let it show. “You have—you've even held kittens before,” she says gently, biting at the inside of her cheek. “You just don't remember—but you will, Kara.”
Kara deflates slightly—her name may as well be a number, for all the familiarity she has with it. “I know. I know.”
Lena can feel herself tense in her seat, but she pushes her most hopeless thoughts aside for the time being, grasping at her clipboard until her knuckles go white. She has a job to do.
“Well. Besides the kitten—how are you doing?”
The blonde shrugs. “Same old, same old. I finished All the Pretty Horses earlier today. God, what a boring book.” Her eyes wonder, as if she's trying to remember the most mundane details about her day. “Those” —she gestures towards the ceiling, at the green glowing lamps above them — "buzz a lot—sometimes enough to keep me awake at night. They give me headaches.”
Lena notes it dutifully on her clipboard. “The Kryptonite in these lamps is synthetic,” she explains, not for the first time. “This particular strain shouldn't affect you at a molecular level at this dosage, but I'll take another look at them to be safe. In the meantime,... you could probably use some aspirin.”
It feels like a cruel joke, telling this superpowered being to take some aspirin—almost as cruel as having to use this strain of Kryptonite to keep her safe from the strain poisoning the atmosphere outside.
There's another shrug, and just like that, blue eyes refocus almost entirely on the chessboard. Lena watches wordlessly for the few moments it takes Kara to reset the whole thing one more time.
The rook the Kryptonian holds gleams green under the lamps.
“So, Doctor Luthor,” she says, going about completing the set, pieces clacking away. “Fancy a game?”
Clack.
Also on AO3
#look ma i wrote a little something#do i know where it's going?#nah#do i have a plan?#also this was for perhaps#but the brain has been unclogged I guess#hooray for brain draino#nara writes#supercorp#Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious#lena luthor#kara danvers#let there be angst
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Love Capsule
anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?
genre: fluff
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 4.8k+
warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.
author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).
There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.
It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.
“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.
“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”
Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”
“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.
“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”
“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.
“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.
Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.
“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.
“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.
Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.
It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.
Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.
“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.
“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.
“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.
“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.
The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”
When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.
“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.
What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.
What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.
“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”
At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.
“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”
Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”
His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.
It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.
“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.
So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.
But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.
“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.
“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.
“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.
“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.
Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.
Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.
As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”
Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.
You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.
At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.
The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.
But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?
Deku. Fucking Deku.
Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.
But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.
But it seems God just desires to spite him.
“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.
“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.
“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.
“No.”
“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.
He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.
Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.
“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.
“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.
“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.
Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.
“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.
“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.
Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.
Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.
“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.
“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.
Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.
Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.
By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.
The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—
“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.
Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.
Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.
Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.
Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.
“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.
“Huh? Why?”
“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”
His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.
Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.
Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.
Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.
Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.
Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.
And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.
And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.
The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.
You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.
Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.
“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.
With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.
“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.
When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.
Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!
The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.
Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!
“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”
Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.
It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.
“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.
“I… Urgh… Fuck…”
You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.
“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.
“No. Tell me.”
With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.
“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.
“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.
“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”
He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”
The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.
“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.
“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.
His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.
“You got yourself a deal, princess.”
You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”
“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”
“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”
“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”
“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”
You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.
“I want one too!”
Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.
“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”
“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.
“Argh… I mean... scram!”
You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.
Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.
“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.
“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.
He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.
You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.
“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”
Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.
#bnha#bnha x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou#bnha imagines#bnha scenarios#bakugou katsuki#katsuki x reader#bakugou scenarios
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You look so beautiful tonight (in the city of blinding lights)
Fandom: The Owl House
Rating: G
Relationships: Luz/Hunter
Characters: Luz Noceda, Hunter; MINOR - Cardinal Palisman, Eda Clawthorne
Summary: Luz receives a little note from the cardinal she met not too long ago. She has a very beautiful surprise, from someone... quite unexpected.
Word count: 2.176
AO3
A/N: unrelated but I created an alternate account on AO3 (@/homunculusalphonse if you’re interested), because I need attention and it’s the only site where people actually read my stuff and give me appreciation. But know that otherwise I’m very critical of AO3 and I’m not going to consume nearly anything there. You can definitely be uncomfortable with this, ofc. Do what you will.
fun fact, I was actually inspired by an U2 song when I wrote this fic, you can also hate me for that lmao.
TRIGGER WARNING - implied child abuse
HATE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED.
--
So, following a little note that someone sent her through a bird palisman was definitely not on her list.
Luz was supposed to study for her next exam, which is much more theoretical. It should’ve been easier in her opinion, but clearly Hexside likes to make things difficult for the sake of being difficult. It’s her favorite school, yes, but Luz can’t just pretend it’s easy.
Admittedly she’s been studying up until this hour – it’s past midnight, last time she checked –, so Luz reencountering the Little Rascal she met a few weeks ago is a… pleasant surprise, she thinks. The cardinal is such a cutie that he could brighten her bad days. But of course, two things Luz finds out are that the cardinal palisman has a partner (she tries not to feel too disappointed about it, remembering that she has palisman wood at home), and two, that the partner apparently knows her.
Luz takes Owlbert, thankfully not needing to wake Eda or King, and Hooty doesn’t seem to be awake either. The girl follows the cardinal chirping happily, taking her to some not dangerous woods until they arrive downtown. This could be a trap, right? But the red bird wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, as far as she’s concerned. Palismen never mean to deliberately hurt other people. Maybe that’s another reason why the Emperor’s Coven can’t really get their hands on palismen.
The city of monsters is completely empty at this hour. It gives Luz some weird vibes, in the way that this city is actually very beautiful in on itself.
But that’s not what surprises her.
And instead, it’s the light spells illuminating the whole town.
They seem to be the same ones Luz creates, as they’re like little fireflies, stars floating out of the sky. Luz is completely awestruck, “wowing” to herself.
The rascal takes her to a fountain that looks like it’s releasing water, not some strange other substance that would likely kill her. Almost everything from the Boiling Isles is not-human friendly, she’s aware there’s not much potable water to be easily found in a downtown.
Someone is already waiting by the fountain, the light spells more numerous. Luz can’t help but gasp when she recognizes the wild, white-blond hair, that one strand standing out.
“… Hunter?”
The boy also gasps like he’s caught, and he turns around wide-eyed. Hunter does not wear any of the Golden Guard attires, he’s only the teenage boy that Luz had rescued from the hands of Kiki and the Emperor’s Coven.
And he’s… acting so differently. He’s not trying to look angry or grumpy to pull out a tough persona. Hunter is… blushing.
“H-Hi, human- I mean… Luz,” Hunter clears his throat.
Though that should be the bare minimum, it’s always a surprise when someone that initially hates her starts referring to her as her true name. Even then, Luz didn’t expect to actually see Hunter here. Even though it should’ve been obvious, now that she wonders.
“You did all of this?” Luz asks despite that.
Hunter seems more bashful. “Y-Yeah! I’ve been practicing.”
Luz can’t help smiling. He really did this for her? Because of her?
The little note Hunter sent her is protected in her hands. “Follow the light: things will be clearer there.” He wasn’t lying.
“I, uh… I know we didn’t start with the right foot,” Hunter explains, “You have every reason not to trust me after I almost betrayed you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I… I hope I can at least try to make it up to you.”
Luz notices Hunter is hiding something behind his back, and it’s only then that he reveals it. It’s an untouched glyph paper, until Hunter claps his hands together, and… a small, red flower forms in his hand, sparkling just like the light spells around them. Luz gasps in awe; not even she learned to do this particular spell yet, at least not such a small size.
He hands the flower to her, and Luz is smiling in gratefulness. She puts the flower in her head.
“How do I look?” Luz wonders.
Hunter blinks a couple times, distracted again.
“G-Good, uh, you look… great.”
Luz grins. “Thanks.” She looks around her. “This is really beautiful, Hunter.”
Hunter laughs, his teeth exposed. She never thought she’d find the tooth gap so adorable and genuine.
Wait, not adorable. What is she thinking?
In any case, it’s nice to see Hunter showing his true self.
A noise interrupts her thoughts; it’s the clock ringing the monster inside it, yelling to warn the citizens that it’s 1 AM. Responsibilities are instantly weighing her shoulders again.
“I’m sorry, I’d love to stay, but…” Luz sighs, “I have some really big test for school tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Hunter doesn’t seem that disappointed. Just curious. He likely never went to school. “Depending on it… I could help you study? I know I’ve read quite a lot of books that not even the other witches know.”
“Really?” Luz turns excited. Imagine all the secrets Hunter could tell her? Principal Bump and her friends would be really pumped for it. “That’d be great! But…”
Luz has told the others about Hunter, but not in a good light. Eda would not be too happy with the Golden Guard entering her house. Hooty and King would attack him. Even if she tried to sneak him in, Hooty knows how to smell a coven witch from five miles away. And Hooty would knock him out. Or eat him. Eugh.
“No. I don’t think you should…” Luz tries to say it, but it sounds wrong when it almost leaves her mouth. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want you to go, but… I-I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”
Hunter doesn’t get angry. Not at her.
“Hey, don’t blame yourself. I mean, you said it yourself, I’m the Golden Guard,” he reminds her, but not meaning to shame her. “Who would want me in their house, right?” He actually laughs – at himself for expecting the opposite. His laugh succumbs to the silence, and thus Hunter whispers, “Why did I think it would ever work?”
Luz stares at him and doesn’t say a thing. She should, but... she doesn’t know what she could say to make things better.
However, she really must go. She doesn’t like the thought of Eda waking up and finding out Luz is gone. Eda still hasn’t gotten used to Luz sneaking out, and she’d ground her even if Luz did something for the greater good. Which, well, fair. But it’s not really nice to be grounded.
“I’ve gotta go,” Luz says. She doesn’t want to leave and do nothing to calm Hunter. So, Luz approaches him a little and squeezes his hand in reassurance. “Thanks for clearing things up.”
The moment Hunter raises his head, Luz feels like he froze her in place with a spell. She sees deep through his magenta eyes, eyes she’s never seen before. She can also see his scars more clearly, and maybe some secret freckles that pop up in random spots. There’s so much to learn about this young boy that he hides behind a mask and behind an oppressive persona as a teenage hostage.
Luz looks at it for long, until her face starts burning. She immediately avoids his stare; Hunter gazes at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She can’t really take it.
Right then, Luz summons Owlbert and the little owl takes her away from the almost phantom town. Even from this distance, Luz can tell Hunter is still watching her go, and she doesn’t have the gut to stare back.
The ride back home takes no longer than five minutes, even if Luz’s head is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Luz arrives back in her room without any noise, and so she lets Owlbert go, the palismen flying away probably to make Eda company. Luz sighs and plops on her abandoned chair, the pile of books waiting for her. It would’ve been nice if Hunter helped her, but Luz doesn’t want to risk it.
… Maybe she still doesn’t trust Hunter.
She doesn’t quite blame him for betraying her, in a way. Hunter has been raised by Belos. Imagine what the emperor must have taught the boy. Surely, that doesn’t justify Hunter’s misdeeds, she never forgets he was willing to burn her in the sea, or the fact he tried to kidnap all the palismen from Hexside. But there is someone in a higher position ordering him to do it. The Golden Guard is a prodigy, but he’s controlled by someone else.
In fact, Hunter honestly reminds Luz of Amity. Amity used to be very similar to him, even if not in a Coven role. The other girl used to be mean, an actual bully, someone who never liked to question authority and praise. Amity, in reality, was as alone as Luz had been before the Boiling Isles. Just someone that wanted to share her feelings and niche interests with the world.
Hunter tried really hard with that… present. He made quite a lot of light spells that were not necessary. The flower is still in Luz’s brown hair. Hunter didn’t have to do all of that effort, if he was really meaning to stab Luz in the back.
Maybe Hunter wants to be better, like Amity did.
The problem is that Luz doesn’t even have time to think about this without worrying about her exam.
Right, so she’ll think this through later. Luz needs to study the four elements and how they came to be. She knows a lot of this. Maybe not all the applications the book mentions, though. They make a vague explanation on the glyphs from “the Ancient ages”, but there’s not much detail unless if you’ve practiced and read specific books. Hunter would know that.
No, don’t think about Hunter. Read the book. Apply what you know. You’ve got this.
--
Luz wakes up with a sore back and her cheek aching in discomfort. As it turns out, she’s slept studying. When she did, she can’t quite tell.
She sighs out of exhaustion, so she stretches her body to wake her head up. The sore back won’t be much help in the exam. Maybe she could get some potion from Eda, now that Lilith has given them some for every situation.
Maybe Luz is still dreaming when she hears the same chirp. The little Rascal is awaiting by the window, once again holding a note in his little adorable beak.
“Hey, little guy, did you miss me?” She asks, wanting to squish him. She pets him and he accepts it.
The palisman leaves the note in the palm of her hand, expecting her to read it. Luz raises an eyebrow, wondering what it could be.
Luz finally opens it.
“Dear Luz,
You’re the best teacher I had, and that’s saying a lot. None of the Coven teachers I met my whole life have what you have. I’m sure you’ll make the exam look extremely stupid.”
She’s sure her cheeks are red like two ripe tomatoes.
There’s a little sign telling her to turn the paper around.
“This is the glyph I created for the little gift I gave you. You can use it on your test if they ask. Or give it to your principal if you need him to let you off the hook.
Sincerely,
Hunter,” followed by a hand-drawn little mask of the Golden Guard.
Luz is grinning like the that polite cat meme, sighing affectionately.
Lil’ Rascal chirps to her like he’s saying the same message to her. She pets his little head again, and he snuggles against her finger. So cute.
Suddenly, though, there’s a knock on the door and the red bird disappears quickly. Luz’s fantasies are pretty much interrupted by an overslept Eda Clawthorne.
“Hey, kiddo, aren’t you gonna be late?” Eda reminds. She frowns, “Wait, don’t tell me you stayed up studying.”
Luz takes a while to respond, because it’s only then that she remembers the test.
“Take it easy, Luz. You can do it. Put the whole school on fire if you can’t solve it.” Eda raises an eyebrow and grins, “Hey, that’s a pretty flower you have there. Good practice.” She winks. “Alright, your breakfast is waiting downstairs, you’ve gotta eat something so your brain can at least take you to school.”
Eda waves and rushes downstairs, and Luz stares at the little note for a couple more minutes. She smiles again and puts in one of her drawers, hoping to write an answer soon.
Despite being sleep-deprived, Luz does handle the exam well. It turns out that Hunter’s glyph was useful as there was a question about plants and flowers and how some ancient communities had used it. Had he had a vision?
In any case, Luz is seen smiling the entire day like a little duckling.
It’s just like a movie, secretly meeting up with her lover…
… Lover?
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Falling Back Into Your Bed
Summary: One night was enough to have you crawling back to him
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader
Warnings: college!au, (smut 18+!!), fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, degradation, Eren's a little shit, little bit of ass smacking, mentions of sex under the influence (consensual), enemies to lovers sort of?
Word Count: 3120
A/N: This is has been in the drafts for a while, and it wasn't supposed to take the turn it was supposed to but I'm happy with it lmaoo. Completely unrelated, but I like making headers lol
It happened one time. To say you weren't really in the straightest mindset, but it happened once and now you're hooked. Your brain only filled with those images from that night. You groan as you pull at your hair, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on studying. Your brain completely occupied.
"You seem troubled? Need some help?" The snarky comment comes from your right, and you scoff as you rub your forehead.
"Shut the fuck up," you spit with a little more aggression than you intended as you try to focus on anything but that amazing night.
"You thinking about that night? It could always happen again." The words whispered against your skin makes the images flash fully in your head, and you push him away from you, which only gets a chuckle in return.
"Fuck off, Jaeger," you groan as you close your textbook.
"You alright?" Sasha asks you, and you sigh as you nod.
"Yeah, it's just been a long day. I think I'm gonna head back to my dorm." You end your study session with your friends, stuffing your books in your bag, giving them a wave of goodbye as you walk out of the library, sighing in content when the sun rays hit your skin.
You slept with Eren. The only person who can get on your nerves to the nth degree. You woke up in horror realizing what you did, but the horror was that you liked it. It was amazing, the best sex you've ever had. Of course, it has to come from the person you despise the most.
It was a party that Jean wanted you to go to, and he happened to be there, annoying you to no end as he usually is, and then he was kissing you, and then you're walking up to his room and the rest is history. The memories of that night flood your head again.
The way his hands felt hot against your skin, branding a path all over your body. The way his lips brushed all over your skin, stopping to show some parts of your body some love by sucking dark marks onto the skin that took you forever to cover up.
The way his d--
Wait, stop! What am I doing?
You shake your head as you take another deep breath. This is not how you thought your week was going to go.
"I don't know if you have mind-blowing sex what's the big deal? I'm failing to see the problem," Hitch says, and you roll your eyes as you fall back on your bed.
"The problem is that I don't like him. He gets on my last nerve. Why can't I have amazing sex with a guy that I don't wanna stab on a daily basis?" you argue, and Hitch scoffs as she rolls her eyes.
"Well, maybe it's the fact that you don't like each other that's making the sex great."
"I just wanna stop thinking about it," you admit.
"Well, it doesn't seem to be bothering him as much as it is you," she responds, and that part is what makes you the most irritated and confused.
You were sure you weren't that bad, but it's like he isn't even fazed by it, only teasing you about it in the best way possible. You groan as you roll over, burying your face in your pillow.
The only reason why you're forced to interact with him is that you're friends with Armin who's best friends with Eren. If that wasn't the case, you probably would never see him again, let alone be in the same room as him where he can annoy you.
"Whatever. Maybe I just need to get laid again, get him off my mind," you mumble into the pillow, and you know Hitch is giving you a look without even turning your head.
"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say," she muses. "Speaking of getting laid, there's another party tonight if you want to go."
You turn your head to the side to face her. "Weren't you just a party last weekend?" you comment, and she shrugs.
"You only live once." You raise your eyebrows at her answer but shrug anyway.
"If I don't have anything to do, then I'll go."
~
You should've stayed the fuck home because this party is not it. You don't know if it's because you really don't want to be here or the fact that you're sober, but you can't help but sigh in annoyance as you walk through the crowd until you find a corner where anyone isn't making out.
You nurse your drink, but the taste of the beer is slowly making you sick after two sips, so you just hold it to give you something to do. "You look like you're having fun."
You roll your eyes at the familiar voice, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "I should've known you'd be here." You knew that you should've listened to that weird feeling in the back of your head the moment you stepped into the room. "I'm not really feeling it," you say, and he steps closer to you.
"Well, we could always go somewhere else, and I can make you scream while I split you open on my dick again." You clench your jaw as you find something else to look at, trying and failing to ignore the way his words make your body hot all over.
You scoff. "Yeah, in your dreams."
"Really? You don't miss this?" he asks, pulling you into him, and you can't help when your mouth falls open slightly your breath hitching. "Cause I sure miss the way your tight pussy clamped around me."
Your thighs squeeze together subconsciously as you let out a small moan, luckily it's muffled by the music, but he doesn't miss your reaction. "Yeah, I'll pass," you muster, and he smirks as he chuckles.
"Fine, have it your way. The offer still stands," he says before he walks away, and you sigh heavily as you drink from your cup. You have to get out of here.
Eren can't take his eyes off of you as you walk around the room. You've filled your cup back up, but you haven't drank from it, the only thing on your face is that you want to get out of here. Even as you talk to some blond guy, Reiner he thinks his name is, your face is very evident in showing that you're tired of this conversation, but you're too nice to leave.
He walked over to talk to you just to tease you but ended up doing the same thing to himself. He finds it funny that you seem to deny what happened between you two even though you reacted the way you did. If he could take you in front of all these people, he would.
Well, he can, but he's better than that.
He doesn't tell you this, he doesn't think he will, but you're the only thing that's been on his mind, but he's just better at hiding it. He can't count how many times he's thought about your body, the noises you made, how fucked out you looked as you took his dick. Every time he touches himself, those are the only things he thinks about.
And every single time he finishes, he declares that he's going to get you back into his bed.
Which is why he decided to come to this party even though he didn't want to. He knew Hitch would drag you out here, and he knew that there was no way he was letting you go.
He almost feels bad for the guy. Even though he can't hear the conversation, he knows Reiner is trying and failing to woo you with his awful flirting tactics. He can recognize your fake laugh from a mile away.
He decides that he can't stand to watch this horror show any longer, and he moves over to where you are, rolling his eyes at a lame pick-up line he hears come from him. "Hey, I need to talk to you," he buds in, and you give him a look.
"I'm in the middle of a conversation." You state the obvious, and he gives you a lazy look.
"Yeah, not really," he responds, and you squint at him. "Come on, it'll take a second."
You sigh, giving in before turning to the buff guy next to you. "I'll be right back," you tell him, and only Eren knows that that's not true.
He eyes Eren before giving you a smile and a nod, and you follow Eren as you walk the too familiar walk to his room. He closes the door behind him when you walk in, and you cross your arms. "What was so important that you had to pull me from my conversation?" you question, annoyed, and he smiles at you.
"Yeah, it totally looked like you were enjoying that little chat." You roll your eyes as he takes your cup out of your hand, setting it on his dresser. "How much have you had?"
You frown at him. "To drink? Not enough because it's difficult to have a conversation with you sober."
He chuckles lightly as he walks closer to you until your knees hit the bed. "Can I say something?" he asks, and you try to act like his close proximity isn't bothering you.
"If it'll make this end sooner."
"All I've thought about is that night," he tells you, and he moves closer, making you fall down onto the bed as you look up at him with wide eyes. He hovers over you, one hand on the mattress next to you, the other trailing down your body, making goosebumps break out over your skin.
"How good you felt, how loud you were, how fucking soaked you were." His lips brush against yours as he runs a hand down your tube top, biting your lip when he rolls his finger over your nipple.
"What does this have to do with me being sober?" you ask breathlessly, and he smirks as his hand moves down to your shorts, and he doesn't miss the way your thighs tense like you don't know whether to close them or not.
"Because I want to see if I can make you scream just as loud." He crashes his lips down on yours, making you squeak in surprise before you finally let him in, moaning when his tongue rubs over the roof of your mouth.
You thought your thoughts about Eren would change if you were sober, but he's just as addicting as he was that night, and you find it difficult to object to anything he's doing.
He crawls with you as you move up further on the bed, your body flushing hot all over. He works your shirt off, throwing it somewhere off to the side before trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck before moving to your chest.
Your hand makes its way into his hair, messing up the bun that it was in as he mouths at your nipples, pulling the taut bud with his teeth and his fingers before switching. "Did I ever tell you that you have nice tits?" he tells you with a playful smile on his face as he fondles them, and you scoff at his childish comment as you shift on the bed, the rough abrasion of your shorts against your crotch becoming extremely uncomfortable.
He works his shirt off as he slides down your body, his lips just grazing your skin to be teasing, and he unbuttons your shorts, peeling them off your legs, letting out a huff when his eyes land on your panties.
"You're so fucking wet," he mumbles, and you hiss at the cool air hitting your sensitive core when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs. You start to say something when he doesn't move, but you let out a low moan in surprise when he licks a broad stripe up your folds.
Your back arches off the bed at the sudden stimulation, and he lays an arm over your hips to keep you still, his other hand digging into the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you spread open. "And you taste so fucking good," he groans as he moves from licking between your folds to flicking at your clit.
"Fuck, Eren," you whine, pulling at the roots when his tongue prods at your hole.
"Come on, baby, I know you can be louder than that," he challenges, pushing one of your legs over to give him more room. His tongue prods at your hole before he replaces it with his fingers, his mouth going back to focus on your clit.
He's already curling two fingers inside of you as he sucks on the bundles of nerves, pulling it into his mouth, before circling his tongue around the bud. What you definitely didn't forget was how amazing his head game was. Your toes curl as the grip on his hair tightens, and it takes a few more pumps on his fingers hitting that sensitive spot inside of you to make you cum, moaning loudly as your orgasm hits.
"There we go. That's better," Eren says before moving his tongue to your hole to lap up your release. You're panting as he moves back up towards your face, his covered in your release. "But I still think you can be louder."
"You sound like you're all talk," you challenge even though you're still breathless.
He chuckles darkly before getting rid of the rest of his clothes, putting himself right back over you. "Sounds like you're undermining my skills," he jabs back as he lines himself up.
"Sounds like you're overestimating yourself," you counter, but you trail off before you can finish the last word as he pushes himself in, and you both moan at the feeling.
"Shit, I'll never get over how amazing you feel," he breathes once he bottoms out, and you're urging him to move, which he quickly obliges, your mouth falling open at the feeling of being stretched out with every stroke.
He moves himself so that he's on his knees, your hips angled upwards as he thrusts into you way too slowly for your liking. "Come on, Eren," you whine, knowing he can make you feel way better than he is right now. "Fuck me harder," you plead, and he coos at you.
"Aww, but I'm trying to make love to you, princess," he drawls, and you groan in frustration as you try to move, but he holds you down, making sure he's the only one moving.
"I don't want you to make love to me," you whine, desperate to have him fuck you until you see stars.
"But I like seeing you beg for me, seeing you so desperate, it's cute, keep going," he says, and you roll your eyes.
"Fuck--" He cuts you off with a sharp thrust, nailing your g-spot with ease.
"Me? Well, you're already doing that, sweetheart." You scrunch your nose at the stupid pet name, and you scoff before you smirk at him.
"As I said, you're all talk," you taunt. "Pretty sure Reiner could make me scream louder than you ever could." The playful demeanor in his face drops and his eyes are going dark, and suddenly he's pulling out of you, and rolling you onto your stomach.
He pulls you up to your knees, and he slams into you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion as your eyes roll back. "You think you're funny, huh?" he spits before pulling you to his chest by your shoulder. "You wanted to get a rise out of me so that I could fuck you like a filthy whore."
You can barely respond, your body feeling like it's being shocked every time he rams that spot, and you jolt when he pushes on your clit. "Already going stupid? I haven't even done anything yet."
He pushes you back down, pushing your back until your chest is flush against his bed. "You're such a needy slut, aren't you?" A smack to your ass, the sting snapping you out of your daze. "Answer me."
"Fuck yes!" You can barely get it out, your knuckles starting to hurt from how hard you're gripping the sheets.
"Who's fucking you this good?" You don't answer quick enough, it's not like you can, but that only makes him fuck you harder. "Who?!"
"You! God, Eren, you," you moan, and you release your grip on the sheets as you feel yourself starting to drool.
"Who owns this fucking cunt? Fuck." His head falls back on his shoulders as you clamp around him, and he pushes on your clit again when you don't respond.
"You, oh fuck, 's all yours." You buck your hips back, meeting his, and he smacks your ass again.
"Come on, baby, you can say my name." He sounds just as wrecked as you, and his name is the only thing you're coherent enough to say, and you know that you're loud and that anyone walking past the door or on the other side of the walls can hear you.
"Shit, your pussy is so," he cuts himself off with a groan, his body curling as he feels his high building up as you suck him back in.
"Eren, I'm--" You try to tell him that you're close, so close, but you can't, tears running down your face from the constant stimulation on that spot inside of you.
He responds with a groan, and you know he's close too, and the next thing you know, you're cumming hard, your body going rigid. Your orgasm triggers his, and he cums with a moan of your name, his climax hitting him so hard, he falls on top of you.
Both of you fall down on the bed, his ragged breathing fanning against your neck, and he rolls the both of you over before rubbing up and down your top half softly. "You okay?" he asks against your neck, and you can feel the smirk on your skin.
You respond with a content whine, and his grip on your waist tightens when you try to move. "Stop moving. I'm trying to cuddle you."
You scoff before chuckling lightly. "Since when you do cuddle?"
"Since now. Now, shut up, I'm trying to go to sleep."
You roll your eyes at the words, but there's no heat behind them, and you feel sleep catching up to you as well.
Eren Jaeger might annoy to no end, but maybe this isn't so bad.
#eren jaeger#eren yaeger#eren jaeger smut#eren yaeger smut#eren jaeger x you#eren yaeger x you#eren jaeger x black!reader#eren yaeger x black!reader#aot smut#snk smut#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#🛶.hoarny
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City of Immortals RO List
Okay so here it is, the list of ROs like I promised. Both mc's have their own pool of love interests to choose from with little overlap.
Here you’ll get a description of the ROs and some information on how the mc or others might view them. Also some info on the mc’s.
Mc1
Born to be a soldier by design, they were afflicted with immortality and stopped aging entirely once they hit thirty. A side effect—or perhaps a feature—is the beast that all but lives inside them, taking control when they feel incredibly strong emotions, though most often when anger is present. Where once they held full control of it, of the transformation they go through, now they must wrestle with its control with each passing day.
You are what’s called a Hunter. Every settlement has them, but Eden has the most. Caroline controls all her hunters from Eden, though ‘Hunter’ may be a bit of an oversimplification of the job description. Yes, one of their main jobs is providing food and other resources for the settlement, but they’re also bounty hunters, keepers of the peace, and are also often recruited for odd jobs when they have no contracts to fill. Perhaps the most important rule in Hunting, is that you always work in pairs.
Caroline: She/her
The best way to describe Carol is ‘short’, with a pair of unblinking amber eyes and a wind-buffeted, naturally tanned complexion. Her russet curls, while usually out of her face, never seem to stay tied back for long, a seemingly constant slew of curls sticking to her forehead. A jagged scar cuts across the knuckles on her right hand.
Caroline is unrelenting. She knows what her settlement needs and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it—to save the lives of those she must oversee she is willing to do anything. Within reason. Truthfully, Caroline never asked to be made the leader of Eden, the job just sort of fell into her lap one day and no one bothered to take it from her. You’ve worked for her for years by the start of chapter one, and if you’ve learned anything about her it’s that she doesn’t do smalltalk. She’s been in a relationship with Lowrie for years now, and as far as you can tell, they’re very happy with one another.
Lowrie: non-binary, they/them pronouns
Impossibly tall and scrawny, Lowrie’s skin is constantly burned red by the sun, seemingly unable to tan no matter what they do. Their face is long, with ash-coloured, shoulder-length hair that would usually hide their grey eyes but is otherwise kept out of their face with a blue-patterned scarf.
Some have called Lowrie stuck up in the past for their less than talkative nature but that would be an oversimplification. In truth, they just aren’t fond of talking—which is probably why they get on with Harley so well—and more shy than anything else. One of Eden’s finest Hunters, they spend most of their time in the sweltering heat of Wasteland bringing bandits in and shooting any of the mangy beasts that stray too close to Eden. The rest of their time is spent managing the bar with Caroline and Harley, tending to keep to themself. You’ve worked with Lowrie in the past, and as far as you can tell there’s little love lost between the two of you.
Carol + Lowrie poly:
Caroline and Lowrie are poly and in a committed relationship with one another. They will not leave one another for monogamy with mc, however, you don’t have to be in a throuple with them—though that’s definitely on the table—you can simply be with one, who is with both you and the other. Lowrie is also currently casually seeing Harley. Carol is not seeing anyone else.
Mordred: he/him.
With a seemingly constant fuzz along his jaw, and a never-ending supply of little scars littering his warm olive skin, his hair tends to cover everything but his yellow eyes and the deep bags underneath. His hair is typically tied into a loose bun at the back of his head, mostly obscuring his pierced, slightly pointed ears.
Mordred is a hot-headed, easily irritated young man who’s been by your side since day one. You dragged yourselves out of the crumbling ruins of Ledala together, you fought together, and now you work together as Hunters. Partner’s in crime doesn’t quite cover your relationship but it’s certainly close. In recent years, however, your relationship has strained—perhaps it’s due to past mistakes getting in the way, or past feelings, but either way at the start of the book he’s nowhere to be found.
At the start of the game you can determine just what your relationship is with him—it’s strained at this point but the reasons why are totally up to you. He can also potentially have been an old flame of MC2.
Ridley: Gender variable
Ridley is an energetic person with a pair of bright green eyes constantly sparkling with a glint of adventure. Despite their heavily-muscled frame, they seem to constantly be hiding behind their oversized glasses, a veil of their shaggy red hair, and a slouch that makes them out to be much smaller than they are.
Ridley is… an enigma. While technically a Hunter, they seem much more interested in the pursuits of science and research than holding off rabid beasts with nothing but a gun that’s falling apart and a rusty sword. Of course, they can hold their own well enough, but when they’re meant to be spending their time training or helping out—and indeed, even on their time off—they’re usually found traipsing around in the desert looking for… who knows what.
Doc: She/her
Doc is stocky and sharp-jawed, dark brown, almost black eyes always watching. Her dense curls are shoulder-length and appear twisted together and held back behind her head. The tip of her left ear appears to have been torn off somehow.
Not known for her bedside manner, Doc travels between settlements to tend to the sick, injured, and broken, and though none can particularly vouch for her interpersonal skills (though who can say anyone has particularly good ones, these days?), they can certainly do so for her medicinal accomplishments. Some think her a wandering ghost, aiding those who need help to make up for the sins of her past, others simply see her as a woman seeking to do her part for the good of Wasteland, regardless, if you get on her bad side she’s been known to be liberal with her gun. Or so the rumors say.
J. Allard: Gender variable
Allard is a nervous-looking, shifty individual with short but messy brown hair flecked with grey. Constantly fidgeting with the ring on their thumb, their stutter becomes more obvious the more nervous they are. Though their eyes hide behind a pair of darkened glasses, a pallid face a week out from its last wash they are, completely, honest. Trust me.
J. Allard is a totally normal priest. There is nothing strange about them, they simply want what is best for you and your companions.
Mc2
Dragged down into the depths of the earth on the day Ledala fell, you never knew of the city beneath the surface. Your sibling died that day, you’re sure of it, and a part of you died with them—the beast no longer responds to your call and you’re still left injured from whatever afflicted you and your comrades that day. The man who saved you set you to work for him—sorry, with him—and now you walk perpetually in the darkness of a city long since forgotten by the sun, with people named after the remnants of an old world you never knew existed. You were never meant to survive that night, and every day the world around you reminds you of that.
Arthur: he/him
Arthur doesn’t look quite there half the time. His skin is translucent, his pale blue eyes impossibly far away, platinum blond hair little more than wispy strands atop his head. Most of his body is otherwise covered completely by that old, brown coat of his. There’s light freckling across his nose.
Arthur saved you that night. A Private Investigator by trade, he brought you on to work together because you had no where else to go. Maybe because of it you should be closer than you are but there’s always been a distance between you he’s been unwilling to cross. Either way, despite working together—living together—he keeps to himself and you try to keep to yourself in turn. Still, you can’t help but notice the disdain he has for the City Council and their lackeys.
Perci: she/her
Perci is constantly smiling. Relaxed of posture, her straight hair once ashy brown is now dyed silver. It’s cut short at the sides and back, creating an undercut, most of her fringe tucked behind her ears to reveal a pair of dark brown, monolid eyes. She seems allergic to sleeves, taking whatever chance she gets to show off her cybernetic arm and the colourful tattoos that adorn her flesh arm.
A friend of Arthur who sometimes helps with investigations. She’s friendlier than he is with you, even inviting you out on occasion, but rebellion is on her lips more and more nowadays, and she isn’t subtle about it. You haven’t seen her in quite a while—as far as you can tell she and Arthur aren’t on speaking terms anymore after that big fight they had a few months back. As far as you can tell, she’s moved on and you certainly wouldn’t blame her if she has Council dogs on her heels.
Saga: Saga is always the same gender as your mc is.
Saga’s hair is a deep blue in colour, their black roots just barely growing through. Half of their head is shaved, the other half left chest-length and braided over their shoulder. Though their entire body seems to interwoven with tech, what is perhaps most interesting about them is the angular tattoo that crawls down the right side of their face. This is probably why they come to you completely covered in muck and baggy clothing.
Saga shows up at your door with a different name and a job. You aren’t given why, only the how, only the what. They’re stubborn and flighty in equal measure, suspicious of everyone around them including yourself. Oh, they dress the part of a street rat well, but the cash they have just on hand is nothing to blink at and, underneath all that grime, their skin is perfectly unmarred by the ravages of time.
Deimos: he/him, gay
Whether or not Deimos’ strength is his own or from borrowed, military-grade tech is anyone’s guess, but no one’s ever bothered to ask. Though he’s tall, he isn’t necessarily as muscular as the fear he commands would suggest. His eyes glow orange, black hair trimmed but not maintained, and his grin is enough to stop anyone in their tracks. For whatever reason, he always wears warm clothes.
Deimos is a Council dog who’s been hounding Arthur for a few years now. You’ve never officially met him; somehow whenever he drops into the office you always manage to be out. Whether that’s coincidence or because Arthur sends you out on errands very conveniently at those times it’s not for you to say. Somehow, he never seems to do too much damage to your colleague.
Adrastea: Non-binary, they/them or she/her pronouns, only attracted to nb or female mc’s
Adrastea has been voted the city’s most attractive person many years in a row now. Everything about them is perfect; perfect smile, perfect blue eyes, perfect cascading coils of iridescent hair, yet somehow despite their well-calculated appearance it’s like there’s a tiger waiting to pounce on any wary admirer who comes too close.
While not a member of the council they hold great sway simply by virtue of their age and the fact they’re so beloved by the populace. You’ve seen them on the holos, how they’re oh, so giving to the needy and even invite the commonfolk to their lavish parties all the important council members attend. It’s an act, it has to be; through their gorgeous smile and all those sheer dresses they seek nothing if not attention. A lot of their history is shrouded and deleted from public record, but you do know that they were once a head scientist that took part in the very same project that supposedly made you what you are today.
Dagda: gender variable
Dagda is the perfectly attractive face everyone sees on their screens every night. In a world of cybernetic bodies and unnaturally bright lights, they are the one person who almost looks... natural. With a perfectly cultivated appearance of salt and pepper hair, soulful brown eyes, and that winning smile, nothing about them is their own; everything they do exactly what everyone else tells them to do.
The mouthpiece of the Council, Dagda is seen to be charming and down to earth in the vids. They say Ledala is prospering more than it has in decades, that the crime rates are lowering thanks to the wonderful work they and their colleagues on the Council are doing. Of course, there always has been a certain emptiness behind their eyes. When the camera isn’t rolling, you wonder what they really think.
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hi! i stepped out of dramione fandom for the last couple of years, and i was wondering if there are any new, well written and well characterized fics? preferably post hogwarts era but i’ll take anything, i just want to get back into it 😭
Here are some newer, completed stories that are fairly popular and definitely worth reading:
Manacled By: SenLinYu -M- Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked. COMPLETE. (Dark, contains non-con)
Love and Other Misfortunes By: SenLinYu -M- Following the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger has devoted her career to the rights of magical beings and works reluctantly with the sardonic ministry lobbyist, Draco Malfoy. But there is ancient magic at work in the aftermath of the War and its consequence will be severe if Hermione fails to look up from her legislation and notice it. COMPLETE.
All You Want SenLinYu - E- Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic.
The Right Thing To Do By: lovesbitca8 -M- Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. (first in a series!)
Every Part of Me By: PotionChemist -M- Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have been hiding a secret for the past five years. Something brought them together during sixth year and then the war ripped them apart. Four years after Voldemort's defeat, Hermione is married to Ron Weasley and Draco has recently married Astoria Greengrass. They reconnect at the annual Victory Ball... A/B/O fic. **Non-Con in Ch 40**
Queen of Swords By: ravenslight Hermione Granger is the weapon they never intended to create. And she will bow down to no one. / Voldemort wins AU. Slowburn Dramione.
Traditions by raven_maiden - E - Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles.
Clean By: olivieblake -M- Malfoy's handsome face was contoured into a condescending smirk. "No faith in that giant brain of yours, Granger?" She looked up at him defiantly. "Maybe I don't have faith in you!" she said, raising her voice. Malfoy only looked at her. "You'll find I'm very surprising." Dramione AU, Year 6 with a slow burn and a killer twist. Book I of "This World or Any Other" series. COMPLETE.
The Commoner's Guide to Bedding a Royal By: olivieblake Objectively speaking, Hermione Granger knows Britain has a monarchy, just as she knows Prince Draco (the grandson of the King of England) is probably off somewhere living his royal life in total unrelation to hers. Seeing as she isn't delusional, she doesn't really expect to be his friend. She doesn't expect anything that comes after, either. Dramione, modern royalty AU. COMPLETE. (first in a series)
Sweetly Broken By: LadyKenz347 As the dust settles following the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco's confidence, belief system, and world are shattered. In an attempt to mend his broken pieces, he turns to vials that take the pain away. But once the high's are no longer so high and the lows get so much lower, Draco has to start a journey of healing and redemption that often hurts more than it helps.
The Gloriana Set ThebeMoon - M- The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year���, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE!
The Best of Me By: MrsRen -M- Officially, Hermione Granger was killed in action during the Battle of Hogwarts. Unofficially, Draco Malfoy has never stopped searching for her. Years after the war during a mission in France, his salvation comes in the form of a little blond boy and a familiar half-Kneazle. [COMPLETE.]
Could This Be A Fake? By: smithandbarrowman -M- A cold and ruthless businessman, Lucius Malfoy expects the same of his son. However, when Draco enlists the help of his father's greatest rival, a game of deceit begins. But what happens when Draco no longer wants to play? (Muggle AU)
Five Dates By: smithandbarrowman Five Dates, that's what she offered. Five chances for him to prove himself. Five chances for her to fall even deeper.
Hot for Teacher By: MotherofBulls -M- Draco is a single dad trying to raise a teenager. Little does he know that his son has a crush on his own childhood nemisis who has taken up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. Draco tries to juggle parenthood, awkward situations, and his own budding interest in Hermione Granger. WINNER Best Comedy, Summer 2017 Enchanted Awards. (sequel: An Indefinite Amount of Forever)
A Second Look By: RiverWriter -M- Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look.
Pretence By: camnz -M- Marriage Law fic. Normalcy was an unrealistic ambition when everyone must return to Hogwarts for their final year after the war. The pretence impossible to continue as all are called on to save the wizarding world - yet again, by law, this time.
The Calm to Her Storm By: writerspassion18 -M- Death isn't easy, and Hermione is barely keeping herself afloat after Ron is gone. After an unlikely friendship between her kids and Draco Malfoy's son brews, something unlikely blossoms between Hermione and Draco too.
The Troublesome Thing About Time By: LadyKenz347 -M- Draco Malfoy has just arrived from twenty years in the future and insists on speaking to his wife, Hermione Granger. The only problem is that the Draco Malfoy she knows is still the snarky, button-pushing boy upstairs-and not the man in front of her now.
To our followers: if you’ve got a favorite Dramione fic completed in the last few years, feel free to share with the anon in the comments!
-Elle
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what the fuck i’m so gay. fucknggggg.,,Kyoto in a swimsuit.
Fuyuhiko/blond mob (?) guy hates the water and I say that’s canon now. Mukuro has to hold him bridal style until they get to his fuckin beach chair and she spends the entire time like “you realize I could be getting carried by or carrying one of my GIRLFRIENDS”
Byakuya refuses to wear his swimsuit. He wears like a gross Gucci shirt and some khakis or something rich looking idk. CoMpLeTeLy UnReLaTeD, Celeste and Chiaki have filled up about ten Super Soakers and Peko has been chasing them around for a good half hour making sure they don’t get drowned in the ocean by Togami
Monokuma is the type to lay facedown in the ocean because he wants to see if anyone will notice he’s “dead” and try to help (yes this is what I did as a kid)
literally NO ONE cares. Ibuki is the only person. She goes to Junko because she’s concerned and Junko’s like “yeah he just kinda does that” “really?” “no but whatever, he’s fine”
Ibuki has to give Chihiro the biggest puppy eyes to swim out and grab him (because she does technically know how to swim, but Monokuma floated pretty far out from the shore and last time she went in a seaweed creature touched her foot so please-?) and Chihiro was going to go in anyway to race Makoto so she does it - queer eye anon
YES YES YES KYOKO IN A BIKINI LITERALLY MADE ME LOSE MY MIND I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH
PFFF MUKURO FUYU FRIENDSHIP REAL,,,,,also highkey imagining everyone being like “c’mon fuyu come splash in the water with us!!” “No go fuck yourselves”
And then five minutes later Peko shows up in her swimsuit and he’s just “AWOOGA 👀👀👀👀” and lets himself be dragged into the mortifying ordeal of having fun and acting his age in front of other people because GOD Peko is so pretty he would do anything for her
(And also Mukuro seeing this happen and just “IT WAS THAT FUCKING EASY????”)
GOD THE BYAKUYA THING IS CANON FROM THE LOOKS OF IT HENWBSMSVDKWBSNS
Makoto, throwing a beach ball at him so that it hits him in the head: PUT THE BOOK DOWN LOSER WE ARE AT THE BEACH
and okay listen for as much as I don’t like him, the Look™️ he is giving in that promo artwork,,,,,,,,sir u have no right to be so attractive I’m going to strangle you but also 😳
CHIAKI IS THE QUEEN OF WATER GUN SNEAK ATTACKS OUGH OKAY
Like you think you’re safe???? You think she doesn’t know exactly where you are and how best to ruin your dignity???? Think again
And OH Celeste is 100% such an enabler for that. She is a woman of chaos and imagining her with a super soaker is both hilarious and also 😳😳😳 ma’am,,,,👀 she has no mercy she WILL slaughter you on sight
It turns into all out war!!!! Imagine these kids having a water gun fight okay I would die for them they deserve the world!!!!
Hiyoko taking cheap shots (nagito gets caught in her crosshair most often because he’s ✨unlucky✨) whenever and wherever she can because she’s such a little shit. Makoto and Komaru being the sibling dream team one second and then betraying each other the next!!!! Chiaki pretending to have accidentally fallen asleep only to then spring awake for a surprise attack!!!! Kokichi SPECIFICALLY going after anyone who looks like they’re just chilling/tanning on the beach and avoiding the water HSNAMDBDN
Somebody gets fuyu at one point and from then on out Peko commits straight up murders but like /pos
is it possible for a pretty lady to strike fear into the hearts of the masses while holding nothing but a super soaker??? Yes okay god is a woman and her name is peko pekoyama
And yes Togami is one thousand percent ready to drown everybody he’s SO pissed HSMSBDNWSN
GOD SAME GOD SAME GOD SAME MONOKUMA HAS LIKE THE MIND OF A 9 YEAR OLD AND I APPRECIATE HIM FOR IT
Junko and Monokuma having a relationship that is just casual vibes is my favorite I love them so much 🥺❤️ like junko is just so unconcerned with all the weird shit cause she knows it’s normal meanwhile everybody else is just ?????? MA’AM???????
HDNAKEJSNS “no, but whatever, he’s fine” I’M CRYIGNFBDHSMDBD
i know it contradicts the next part but my immediate thought was that after that encounter Ibuki just swims out next to him and also pretends that she is face down drowned in the water because 🤝 solidarity ❤️
monokuma: not the reaction I was hoping for but thanks
BUT OH OH OH AWWW CHIHIRO AND IBUKI THAT’S SO CUTE AAAHGHG ???? and once she gets out there chihiro picks him up and carries him on her head until they get back to shore
meanwhile Ibuki is crying and shouting “MY LOVE YOU ARE A GODDESS” to which chihiro is just :]
#*points at these fuckers* I love them so much#danganronpa#fuyupeko#chihibuki#queer eye anon#kyoko kirigiri#Mukuro ikusaba#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#Peko pekoyama#Byakuya togami#Makoto naegi#chiaki nanami#celestia ludenberg#hiyoko saionji#nagito komaeda#Komaru naegi#kokichi ouma#junko enoshima#monokuma#chihiro fujisaki#Ibuki mioda#ask box#headcanon tag#ultimate summer camp#danganronpa s
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Play it Right
a/n: I’m back! We’re in the single digit countdown to the end of this godforsaken school year aghhhh. So excited I can’t even tell you. Here’s some Hotch being sad but trying to be a good dad. ~3.3k
Hotch & Sean take Jack out for his birthday.
Memories of childhood were hard to come by, often only wisps of faded colors that he couldn’t completely resolve into images. There were light drenched afternoons with disembodied fingers pulling up blades of grass. Other partial scenes where dirt stained knees crawled into dark spaces where the world was cool and damp, following a trail of ants as they slowly dismantled some lifeless form. There was the sickened twist of fascination that accompanied the discovery, watching the way it was transformed from something into nothing with only the help of a few thousand tiny insects. Individually inconsequential in size, collectively a force of nature unstoppable as they reduced the abandoned shell into a small drift of feathers. The pale structure stirred and blown away easily by the air displaced when he reached down to take a single one. He dreamed about the ants coming to him, taking him away piece by piece until there was nothing left but traces of bone dust, dispersed by a midnight breeze. For any other child this would have been a nightmare but to him it was a promise. A promise of order and structure, an indication that time did in fact move forward and wasn’t trapped within stagnated pools hiding in the dim recesses of closets. That it wasn’t a continuous loop of threats and tears, of lies worn so smooth they slipped out of mouths unaware. It won’t happen again. He loves you. I love you.
It was far better to let his memories of childhood be lost. Easy enough to do with no one else who had been present at the time around to reinforce them with retelling. No one else to share with over a drink, bouncing stories back and forth, refreshing the dilapidated structures with a new coat of detail. As he let them dissolve they became defanged, passive enough to believe they were not even about him but possibly a story he’d once read and allowed to mingle with his reality. He had always been told he had a vivid imagination, maybe he could allow that to be true retroactively. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He was still here and none of them were.
Except Sean.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. They’d been waiting for Sean for at least half an hour. His brother, never punctual, was cutting it close once again. They were supposed to be taking Jack to the Mets game. Originally conceived by Sean, the idea was floated as a birthday gift for Jack’s tenth birthday—double digits, a big deal for any kid. Somehow this “gift” had become something Hotch had organized entirely, buying the tickets, getting Jack and himself to New York, filling in the rest of the weekend with kid-friendly activities. He’d made it so easy for Sean, all he had to do was show up and he wasn’t even getting that part right. He glanced at his watch again, resisting the urge to double check the time printed on the tickets. It was a baseball game, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they missed the beginning.
He looked at Jack, sitting on the bench, fiddling with the laces of his glove. The glove was a hand-me-down of sorts. He had found it while helping clean out their parents’ house after their mother passed away. Sean swore it wasn’t his but it couldn’t be Hotch’s either, it was for someone right-handed. Plus, he couldn’t pull up any memories connected to it. He’d never been a team sport kind of kid. Too silent, too reserved to fit in with the loud boys who jostled each other playfully and banded together with unnecessary vitriol for the opposing teams. Hotch never understood team rivalries. Of all the many sources of hatred he’d learned, going to a different school didn’t make the list. It didn’t make any sense to create tension, to whip up emotions that had no basis. He knew enough of hate not to go looking for it where it didn’t need to exist.
Rather than argue with Sean about it, he’d taken the glove home and held on to it until Jack was big enough to use it. He wasn’t exactly sure why but he made up a story for it, weaving a collection of happy moments to accompany the time-softened leather. He told Jack the stories he felt he should have had, the kinds of stories fathers should tell their sons. He hadn’t bothered to do this when Jack was younger, hadn’t worried about his son’s perception of the past. But as Jack got older, as life took more and more away from him before he’d even had a chance to be aware of what he had, Hotch felt the need to give him pieces of a family history. He felt they should be stories that would make him feel normal, if that were at all possible with a life like this. Like he was any other kid with parents who were once kids themselves, chasing the same simple joys. He thought it might be comforting, I’ve known happiness and so can you.
Hotch would do anything to make Jack happy and even though it often made him crazy, this meant including Sean in their lives. His relationship with Sean had always been tense. There were several years after Haley’s death, after his absence in the aftermath, when things were beyond strained. Hotch, once he had surfaced enough to feel things, had burned with a white hot anger, tempting him to sever their tie permanently. It was an anger he didn’t trust himself with, strong enough to break through his control without a second’s notice. So he didn’t call, didn’t make the effort he knew was required to pull his brother back into his orbit. He never spoke of it of course but Jessica noticed. She heard Jack asking about his uncle, saw the muscle in Hotch’s jaw jump as he ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. When she felt enough time had passed, she started to push him in little ways to reach out, to reconnect.
So he’d ended up here, once again, waiting for Sean, unsure if he’d even manage to remember his nephew’s birthday. Hotch was internally cursing his younger brother and considering leaving on the next train with or without him when the younger man appeared. He looked a little disheveled, hair sticking up in odd places, the shirt under his leather jacket not altogether clean. But he was smiling and calling their names, sweeping first Jack and then Hotch into a hug, almost certainly intending to irritate his brother with the uninvited contact. Hotch could smell the beer on his breath and gave him a sharp look. Sean shrugged it off and turned his attention to Jack.
“Alright kid, are you ready for this?” he ruffled the boy’s sandy blond hair as he asked. Jack grinned up at him, nodding his head a little too vigorously. Sean never failed to charm.
Hotch frowned at them. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re cutting it a little close.”
Sean scoffed and made a face at Jack, mimicking Hotch’s serious features, only to stick his tongue out and make Jack giggle. “Relax, it’ll be fine.” He punched Hotch’s shoulder, earning another glare, but they all started walking toward the platform. Hotch followed just half a step behind, keeping a close eye on Jack in the thickening crowd. He watched Sean weave confidently through people, happily becoming the lead adventurer. Hotch, who had regretted this from the moment he’d agreed, felt his stomach twisting on itself, anticipating what kind of unnecessary chaos Sean would lead them into today.
They made it to the ballpark without too much difficulty. With some shuffling, they arranged themselves in the hard stadium seats, Jack between the two men. This checked two boxes for Hotch—in the middle Jack was both protected and protecting him from being too close to his brother. If Sean had been a little tipsy when he’d shown up he could now be considered fully inebriated. He hadn’t stopped drinking beer since they got there. Hotch, already on edge, was exasperated by this behavior. However, his pointed glares got him nothing but a grin and a lifted glass waved in his direction.
Jack didn’t notice, just happy to see his Uncle Sean who was always so fun and wild. He was the only family of his dad’s that he had ever met so there was something extra special about this man, so different from his dad but somehow his nearest relative. Jack was chattering to him about kid things, filling Sean in on all the art projects and field trips and other critical moments of his life. He proudly showed off the glove, talking about how his dad told him of Sean’s skill as a baseball player and how he said he used to go watch his games and cheer him on.
Sean almost spit out beer he laughed so hard at this information. “You’re kidding. Is that the kind of BS your dad is feeding you?” He looked over at Hotch, who might have been trying to literally kill him with the look he was directing his way. “That damn glove was never mine and you know it Aaron.”
Unrelenting in his disapproval, Hotch shrugged slightly, “Maybe I have some of the details mixed up.”
“Details?” He looked back at Jack, “That glove was your dad’s and for some stupid reason he tried to throw it away one day and your grandpa kicked the shit out of him for it.”
“Sean!”
“What?” Sean was an expert at faking innocence. Jack was wide eyed, looking between the two adults, not understanding what was happening.
“Can I speak with you?” Hotch’s words were clipped, gritting them out between clenched teeth.
“Oooh Agent Hotchner, yessir,” Sean sat up straight, faking a snap to attention but the effect was lost as he swayed slightly. Hotch pressed lips together and grabbed Sean by the jacket shoulder, pulling him to his feet and pushing him out into the aisle.
“What are you thinking? Why would you say something like that?” Hotch tried not to raise his voice but he was barely succeeding.
“You think it’s better for him to believe in some bullshit you made up?” Sean spat back at him.
“Why not? I’m protecting him. He’s lived through enough, he deserves to have some happy stories.”
“So you lie to him,” Sean said, voice flat.
“It’s not lying.”
Sean wasn’t playing anymore, he was angry, every bit as angry as Hotch. His face was flushed from alcohol and emotion. He looked directly at Hotch, making sure his words sank in. “It is lying, just like you lied to me.”
“I never lied to you,” Hotch protested but the words barely made it out of his mouth.
Sean laughed meanly. “You lied to me every fucking day in that house Aaron. I saw everything, heard everything only for you to turn around and tell me it was all fine, that our dad was a good man.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his clenched fists. “I thought I was fucking crazy.”
“I just wanted to protect you.”
“Bullshit. You were being selfish, just like you are now. You think you can just change the facts and no one will know, that it won’t affect anyone else. I have bad news for you: we don’t all just exist in this world you made up in your head. Jack is a real person, I am a real person. Refusing to admit what was happening didn’t make it any less real, it just meant that I was alone with it. Just a little kid alone trying to understand why someone who was supposed to take care of me would hurt my brother and why, why my brother would lie about it. Did you think I was stupid?”
Hotch didn’t know how to respond, stunned by the bitterness of Sean’s words.
“I’m not going to sit around while you lie to someone else about our shitty father. What’s even the point of protecting him anymore?”
Hotch frowned, “I wanted you to have a normal life, a normal relationship with him. He liked you. I thought if I could keep that side of him away, you could have the kind of father I saw other kids have. I thought I could give you that.”
“You’re an arrogant bastard. Always have been.”
“Please, Sean,” he tried to find more words, some way to make Sean understand. He’d only ever wanted to keep him safe.
“I won’t lie about this Aaron and you shouldn’t either, Jack’s going to learn everything someday, whether you like it or not. Do you want him to be able to come to you? Or do you want him to be afraid, afraid he can’t trust you to tell him the truth?”
Hotch hung his head. “I’m sorry Sean. I didn’t realize—”
Sean cut him off, “I’m done with this.” Clumsily he pulled something out of his pocket. “Here, give this to Jack, tell him I said happy birthday.”
Hotch wanted to ask him to stay but he’d already turned, walking up the stairs, grabbing the railing every once in a while to correct his balance. Hotch looked at the coin in his hand, a Kennedy half-dollar, remembered giving it to Sean on his tenth birthday. It was the same coin his father had given him when he turned 10, just before Sean was born. He remembered the time of his mother’s pregnancy as being particularly bad. His father had been careful with her, solicitous even, trying to ensure that this baby, this wanted baby, would make it safely into the world. But his temper hadn’t gone anywhere, he simply focused it all on Aaron. He'd had to miss a lot of school that fall.
But then, for no reason discernible to him, his father’s mood had shifted a couple months before the baby was due. He started coming home early, bringing gifts for both of them. Some were even wrapped (by the shop clerk no doubt, but wrapped). The glove had been one of these gifts. It hadn’t fit him right but he had said thank you and hoped he could keep this version of his dad around as long as possible. It lasted until Sean was about six months old. The first night his dad came home drunk and angry, yelling at his mom who just stood there holding Sean, too petrified to move away. Seeing that, the frailty and futility in his mother’s stance, he knew that he had to get in between them. He knew then he would do anything he could to protect his baby brother. Sean was the most perfect thing he had ever seen and he intended to keep it that way. He’d done what he could but all he really knew how to do was lie. It was all he’d ever been taught.
The glove became a nightmare that repeatedly came back to haunt him. His dad would go through fits of wanting to be a “normal family.” He would drag them out to the lake for picnics, would insist Aaron play catch with him in the yard. But he was never coordinated enough and it would always end with his dad frustrated and cursing him. When he was thirteen he started to experience overwhelming fits of anger. They came on suddenly, could be set off by anything. His vision would blur and he would feel a desperate need to lash out against the brutally indifferent world around him. During one of these fits, he threw the glove in the garbage, sick of being humiliated by it. Then, the emotion gone as quickly as it appeared, he promptly forgot about it.
Unfortunately, being an angry adolescent did not lead to the smartest decisions. His father found it in the trash and immediately went looking for his ungrateful son. He’d found him with Sean building tiny forts out of sticks in the back yard. Aaron hadn’t even had a chance to remember that he’d thrown the thing away before it was being used to leave marks on his exposed skin. Hotch wondered that Sean could even remember it, he had been so young. He wondered, too, how he could have forgotten, the sting of his failure to protect his brother from that knowledge making itself clearly felt now.
The coin, however, had been a treasured gift, inspiring him to begin a collection that he hid carefully in the back of a drawer. Something he could pull out and remind himself that there had been good moments. That he hadn’t just imagined them. Looking at his coins offered rare moments of peace in the continuous turbulence of the Hotchner household. When he was twenty and Sean only ten, Aaron had felt guilty for not being around as much. The kid had recently lost his father and was living with a quickly deteriorating mother. So he gave Sean the original half-dollar, hoping that his little brother would be able to find the same comfort in it, maybe even develop his own interest in the hobby. Unsurprisingly, coin collecting never caught on with Sean. He was too loud, too rough to spend hours inside, inspecting tiny characters and noticing slight variations in markings. Hotch had assumed Sean had lost the coin years ago, had even felt a little sad thinking about it being lost. Sean was many things but he never failed to surprise Hotch. He shook his head, clearing the lingering thoughts, needing to focus on what he was going to say to Jack. He turned to walk back to their seats.
Jack watched his approach over his shoulder, “Where’s Uncle Sean?”
“He wasn’t feeling well, he said to wish you happy birthday.”
“You made him leave,” Jack’s small face was contorted into an accusing scowl.
Hotch shook his head, ready to commit to this stretching of the truth but he stopped himself. “He was upset,” he started then paused. He really didn’t want to explain this story.
“Why?”
Hotch rubbed the coin with his thumb, “Well, he didn’t like the story I told you about the glove.”
“Why not?”
“It isn’t the truth and he thought that it was wrong of me to lie.”
Jack was quiet, thinking about this. Hotch waited patiently for him to process. “What’s the true story?”
He hesitated, “It’s not a very nice story Jack.”
“But it’s the truth?”
Hotch nodded, the muscles around his lungs constricting too tightly to speak. Jack looked too serious for a ten year old. “Then that’s the story I want to hear.”
A mix of emotion spread through him, partly anger at Sean for forcing his hand, but also pride in his son’s strength. He sighed, “And I’ll tell you, but not today ok buddy? Today is about you and about good memories.”
“Ok Dad but you have to promise.”
Hotch smiled, “I promise. Here, Uncle Sean wanted me to give you this, it’s your birthday gift.”
Jack took the offered object and looked closely, trying to figure out what it was. The metal was aged making the words hard to read through the patina. “It’s…old?”
Hotch laughed. “It is very old, you’re right.”
“What is it?”
“Well, do you want to hear the story of where it came from?”
“Only if it’s true,” Jack replied, a little smile revealing that he was teasing his dad. When had he gotten so mature?
“Of course, nothing but from now on,” Hotch held up his hand in mock solemnity. Without warning, Jack leaned over and wrapped his small arms as far as they would go around Hotch, pressing his face into his chest. Hotch hugged him back, thankful that despite everything, every stupid mistake and unforgivable failure, he had managed to get this one thing right.
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