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#I live a Punch Brothers appreciation life
queen-of-deans-booty · 8 months
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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akindplace · 6 months
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The thing about romanticizing the tortured artist trope is that it takes very serious health conditions, physical, mental, and emotional ones, and it turns it into a very empty aesthetic made for consumption. It takes a life story, and it turns it into a punch line, an easy way out to explain a lifelong struggle while having no regard for the person who actually lived it.
It’s a way of simplifying something so complex as a whole life story, take away the good parts, the artist’s talent, and atribute years and year of studying and practicing their craft to an illness. As if it makes people feel better that maybe they aren’t geniuses but at least they aren’t “insane”.
Artists are constantly working to the bone to get people to see and understand their art, to change the current status quo, to perfect their craft. The most important thing is not how an artist died. It’s the life they lived, the work they’ve left behind, their mark on the world. Reducing people to a tragedy is not a way of appreciating their genius: their art is.
No one is a genius because of their illness, their trauma, their suffering, but because they studied and worked hard to develop the aptitude they were born with. Talent is not a miracle, it’s a lifelong effort.
This stereotype is extremely harmful to people who are currently struggling with those health problems, and it should not be used to “give pain a meaning”, because there is always so much more to someone’s life than suffering, and there is always so much more to your own life than romanticizing your own struggles and those of others.
Pain is meant to be worked through, not fed. And when you feed yourself the myth that an artist was brilliant because they were sick, you are erasing a big part of their life to try and make sense of yours. But you won’t find true meaning in life if you’re only feeding your sorrow instead of maybe, just maybe, doing what those artists did and work through it with your own art.
A lot of them did not have any access to healthcare because their conditions were unknown, but they did what they could to keep going. Their deaths don’t mean they gave up in a big tragic ending, and reducing them to that means you’re erasing everything they did to keep going, every fight, every effort they put into their own health and into their life’s work.
I love impressionist art ever since I was in elementary school, my favorite artist being Vincent Van Gogh. I was first introduced to his story as a man who had a mental illness and died a tragic death, while struggling financially and never being recognized properly during his lifetime.
But you see, Vincent Van Gogh had his brother Theo, who kept all the letters his older brother sent him, and sent his brother words of admiration, support, and unconditional love in his own.
He helped Vincent financially so he could pursue his paiting career. He saw the talent in his own brother even when others might’ve not. The period when Vincent was doing a little better with his health was actually when he was most prolific in his painting, which shuts down the idea that someone must be on the gutter and on the deepest pain and sickness to produce great art.
Most people in really poor health have a hard time managing daily life, and they probably won’t miraculously produce their best work yet while they in extreme suffering (I dare you to make the greatest work of art you’re capable of while you’re down with the flu, now imagine being in constant physical, mental and emotional distress and people think you can just make just about anything). Great art takes a lot of work. Genius and suffering don’t go hand in hand, and it reductive to explain away talent by an illness, as if any effort artists put into their craft was meaningless.
Theo named his own son after his brother, and after Vicent died, he still wanted to make his work known, and after his own death, his wife Johanna kept working on Theo’s mission besides her own political activism. She published the letters between the two brothers, and her own son helped in making Van Gogh’s work even more well known. Even though he was just a baby when his uncle died, he kept his memory alive by founding a world famous museum in his name.
Vincent Van Gogh was able to keep working because he was helped by his own family, financially, emocionally, and was given every encouragement so he could go on with his own career. He painted more when he got medical help, even though in his own time he would have had access to much simpler treatments, since the understanding of illnesses has largely changed in the last centuries.
Healthcare, support, compassion and understanding go a long way, and that’s why it’s important to keep pushing society to be more inclusive to people with illnesses - so they will get the help they need, so they won’t leave earlier than they should.
Vincent Van Gogh’s name is not well known just because of his own efforts, but also by the efforts of those who loved him and kept his name alive long after he was gone. He is not famous because he was a tortured artist. He is famous because those who loved him tried to help him in the ways they could, even after he was gone. His fame is not the result of his death, but of his life’s work and the work of those around him.
Love made him known. Support allowed him to keep working. Getting some help even at a time people did not understand his condition well enough meant he could paint more.
Van Gogh was only human, and he felt such a broad spectrum of emotions and lived through so many things, just as we all do. Behind those paintings, there is a person, a story, and so much hard work, and none of that can be reduced to the romanticized ideal of a tragic death of a tortured man.
It is not about his pain, his suffering, his death, you see. It’s about his life. And it’s about the life of those who loved him. He was able to do what he loved because he was loved, and that is the reason is remembered to this day.
I will end this long post with one of his most famous quotes:
“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
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asimpwithfreetime · 2 years
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Our baby (Yandere! Platonic! Sullys x sickly born! Daughter/sister! Reader)
Summary: Y/n was born sickly, scaring all her family a few times in her life with that condition. Now she is doing better but they are all overprotective of her now. (Just a bunch of cute fluff scenes with them and then yandere stuff)
General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere sully family, manipulating/ fear tripping yandere! Jake, violent! Neytiri, fights between Neteyam and Lo’ak, purring! Loak,
Content warnings: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread.
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[ 3rd Person POV ]
The Sully family was really close, all of them orbiting around Y/n. Y/n was born sickly and usually got ill more times in a year.
Everyone took good care of her. From her protective parents to her little sister, Tuk. Do not forget about her three older siblings that would do absolutely ANYTHING for her.
Jake never let her do anything remotely dangerous, what if his baby got hurt? He wouldn’t survive it. Also, why did she need to know that, she already had him, right?
“You ready, baby girl?” Jake asked his daughter, bringing her close to his ikran. She wanted to fly with one but he didn’t let her. Instead, they could fly together. He helped her up and sat behind her. Once she steadied her posture, he held her in place and they started flying.
At first it was fun but suddenly, the ikran almost crashed into the ground a few times. Jake protected Y/n. She didn’t know he was doing it on purpose. She screamed and cried, holding her dad as a life line.
“There, there, my baby” he cooed once on land. “This is why I don’t let you fly, I don’t want you hurt” he said. She hugged him tightly in between sniffles.
Neytiri was at a whole other level. With a simple “NO” and a hiss she would have everything settled. She even blackmailed and threatened a bunch of Na’vi in the clan to tell her daughter off whenever she tried to sneak around. If other people convinced Y/n, she wouldn’t be the bad guy.
She would be always there for her. As the daughter of the Tsa’hìk she new a lot about medicine and she would cure her baby. She knew how fragile Y/n was and she wanted to protect her baby. She never got aggressive against her, but Neytiri would punch to literal pulp anyone who tried to tell Y/n she didn’t need her family on her all the time.
Neteyam needed Y/n as he needed to breathe. She was his everything. Jake was really stern on him and he could always run to Y/n and still be seen as a hero and a role model. He loved the way she admired her big brother. He liked being appreciated.
He has fought Lo’ak over who loved her more in the past, close enough to draw blood. Jake had stopped them but it was always the same. Neteyam would cuddle with Y/n whenever she was sick, even if it was contagious. He didn’t mind. If he got sick taking care and loving his baby sister, then so be it. Eywa sent him the mission of being there with her. And don’t even think about dating. Neteyam would get caught, but he would kill any boy that looked at her more than twice.
Lo’ak teases Y/n’s sickness sometimes, only if she was going to laugh or crack a smile. He loved her laugh, it made him fill useful. Y/n was his reason to go on. He would be lost without her. In a forest of darkness, she was his moon, his night sky and his guide. She didn’t know it, but she was.
He loved holding her close when she got better from an illness, hearing her heartbeat and purring happily lulling her to sleep.
Lo’ak loved to get on fights just to get treated by his sister, she had such a gentle care that he couldn’t deny it. And maybe he didn’t create fights sporadically. He would fight Na’vi he knew had a crush on Y/n. He would teach them a lesson.
Kiri wasn’t violent physically, but verbally. She had destroyed a lot of people just with the power of the word. And whenever someone made fun of her sister for being sickly or for being weak, or someone would DARE to be in love with Y/n, she would make their live a living hell.
With Y/n she was all soft and gentle. As Y/n wasn’t allowed out alone, Kiri would bring her flowers, rocks and everything interesting she found while going for a walk. That way Y/n could experiment the wonders of Pandora form the safety of her home.
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wonderingpanda · 10 months
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Hallooo!
May I request reader catching the bayboys staring at them? Lovesick, maybe?
I just love the Eugene staring at Rapunzle scene.
Lovesick Stares
Bayverse!Turtles x Reader
Hi! Sorry for not posting in so long, I’ve been really busy the past month. I also want to apologise, there was another Bayverse request in my inbox but I must of accidentally deleted it since I can’t find it anymore. If the person who sent me it wants to re-request it feel free to do so. Now, I decided to not really do headcanons for this one but I wouldn’t call them oneshots either. They’re more like mini-scenarios. Anyway, with that all out the way please enjoy.
Leonardo
I was just in the lair sharpening my katanas when I noticed Y/N sit down next to me. “Mikey becoming too much for you?” “Nah, I’m just tired and don’t feel like skateboarding right now.” They pulled out their phone and began doing something on it but I couldn’t see what. I decided to just focus on my blades since I was losing concentration. After a moment or two I heard the sweet sound of Y/N laughing and turned to see them smiling at some video. I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger for a moment, they were so pretty and calm I couldn’t look away. Y/N must of realised that I had stopped sharpening my swords since they looked over to me curiously. I immediately fixed my eyes on something away from them but I knew it was too late and I’d already been caught. “You do realise you’re staring at mouldy pizza right?” Yup, caught red handed. “Well I mean mouldy pizza can be interesting. Anything can hold a story. You never know this pizza could’ve been through amazing things, lived an incredible life.” “Ah yes an incredible life of slowly dying on a sewer floor.” We laughed together for a moment before Y/N decided to lie their head on my arm and smiled with their eyes glued to their phone. “You know if want to stare at me you can. I do it to you all the time.” “Heh, thanks… wait what?”
Raphael
I swear sometimes my brothers piss me off too much! It was late in the evening and I was beating up a punching bag to let out my rage. I was so focused on hitting the thing that I didn’t realise Y/N had walked in. They leaned against the wall and just looked at me. I stopped what I was doing and turned to face them. “What is it?” “I was just waiting for you to finish up.” “Why? You want to use it?” “I’d appreciate it.” I smirked and stepped aside as Y/N walked up to the punching bag, this was going to be interesting. I was surprised when they began to land pretty tough punches on it. “Wow, who got you so riled up?” They leaned back and rolled their shoulders. “Just an annoying co-worker, don’t worry about it.” They then threw their jacket onto the floor and continued to beat up the punching bag. As they went at it I kept wanting to look at them, their face and arms, eyes, lips… I shook my head and blinked a bit when I saw Y/N staring right back at me. “Is there something you want to tell me or…?” “Uh I think I hear Donnie calling me, I gotta go.” With that, I ran off. All I could do was hope they didn’t read too much into it.
Donatello
I thought it would just be another long night in the lab. I had been spending the night working on a few adjustments to my computers. Some of them were glitching and one had stopped working completely so I was trying to fix them up asap. I figured I’d be alone the whole night since everyone seemed to have already gone to bed but I was proven wrong when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Agh! Oh Y/N, it’s just you. Wait, Y/N! What are you doing here this late?” “Well I was spending the night studying alone but I got bored, and knowing you I knew you’d still be up and awake in your lab.” “I suppose that makes sense.” I slid my chair to the side slightly and gestured for them to grab the free one I had sitting in the corner. They pulled the chair up next to me and sat down. “Oh, and apologies for not knocking. You didn’t answer before and when I peeked through you seemed so involved in your work that I didn’t want to disturb you too much.” “Not a problem. So, were you wanting to study or join me in my computer repairs.” “I figured I could just study while you do your thing, I was just desperate for some company.” “Understandable. I’ll just get back to this and feel free to ask me if you need any help with your studies.” “Of course. Thank you Donnie.” I grabbed a few of my tools and got back to work as Y/N began researching stuff on their laptop, looking through books and writing notes down. I looked over to them and noticed the way their face scrunched up at certain things, how they seemed so hyper focused on whatever they were typing. They were simply a sight to behold. My thoughts were cut short when Y/N sent me a curious smile. “What?” I figured I must have been staring and gave an awkward laugh, looking away to the computer I was currently fidgeting with. “Nothing.” Soon enough I heard the sound of books closing and felt a heavy weight slump onto my shoulder. “I know I should be heading home right now but I think it’ll be ok if I’m a little late to class tomorrow.” “Goodnight, sleeping beauty.” “Night, turtle boy.”
Michelangelo
I was bored, and I mean really bored. Nothing was happening! Leo and Raph were training together and Donnie was locked up in his lab again. April was busy with Casey, Master Splinter was meditating. I was so close to giving up on everything when a voice filled the air. “Oh guys! Guess what I brought?” I snapped my head around only to find my gorgeous Y/N standing happily with a stack of pizza boxes in their hands. I ran over to them but before I could grab a box they pulled the pizza away from me. “Uh excuse me! You’ll be waiting for your brothers before laying a hand on this pizza.” “Ugh! But everyone else is already busy. I’ll just take a few boxes and be on my way, pretty please?” They gave me a deadpanned look. “Mmm no.” “Well then…” I stepped back and readied myself. “I’ll just have to take it by force.” I lunged at Y/N picking them up and pulling the pizza out of their grasp. “Mikey, put me down!” “Mmm no” “Michelangelo Hamato I swear to god!” They proceeded to grab my face and get close enough to the point their nose touched my snout. “If you don’t put me down safely and hand over that pizza this instant I will beat you up with your own weapons, understood?” I wanted to make some sort of witty comeback but as I looked into their eyes I found myself at a loss for words. I knew they couldn’t really beat me and they knew it too but the determined look on their face was so adorable I wanted to just let them. After a little while I felt something hard flick my forehead. “Ow! What!?” “You zoned out dummy.” “Hey I’m not a dummy! You’re the dummy.” “You sure?” “Uh huh.” “Turn around.” I twisted my head to the side and noticed that all the pizza was gone! I looked back to Y/N only to be met with a fist to the face. But to see their cute face up close it was totally worth it.
I hope this was okay. Again, sorry for not posting in a while. Please have an amazing day/night wherever you are!✨
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redrose10 · 8 months
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Chapter 10 is here! I thought I was going to be able to post this yesterday but here we are. Comments and messages are appreciated. Even if I don’t always respond I do read them all.
Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU
Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.
Word count: 1,922
Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing
Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad
You and Yoongi both jumped up at Jimins revelation.
“What? How did they know we were here?”, you asked.
“I don’t know. Just don’t panic Y/N. I’ll handle it.”
“What’s going on?”, Jimin asked.
“A very long story but basically Suri’s brother Hwan assaulted me at the charity event and Yoongi punched him so I’m thinking this probably has something to do with that.”, you replied.
Jimin’s mouth dropped open, but before he could speak the bell rang through the apartment signaling someone was at the door and your stomach did a flip. Quickly you put your hand in Yoongi’s while Jimin answered the door. He came walking back with both Suri and Hwan and also the two police officers.
The older officer stepped forward handcuffs already out, “Mr.Min you’re going to have to come with us?”
“May I ask what this is about?”, he questioned.
“Mr. Min you are under arrest for the assault on Hwan Cho.”
The officer turned Yoongi around placing the cuffs on his wrists. You sprang forward, “No you don’t understand. Yoongi was saving me. Hwan was the one that assaulted me.”
The other officer stepped in, “Miss you can meet us down at the station. We’ll get a statement from you and we’ll go from there but since they got to us first Mr. Min needs to come with us right now.”
You continued to protest with tears forming in your eyes until Yoongi turned to look at you, “It’s going to be okay Y/N. Just call Jin and tell him to meet us at the police station.” You nodded watching as the two officers walked him out of the apartment with Hwan following close behind reveling in seeing his enemy in hand cuffs.
Jimin ran off with his phone to make some calls that he knew would be needed leaving you standing in the living room with Suri. She walked over until she was standing right in front of you. Her perfume smelled like a lighter more feminine version of Yoongi’s. It was heavier on the vanilla but it still made your throat burn.
She smirked while looking you up and down. “So I finally get to meet the famous Y/N in person. I don’t really know what Yoongi sees in you.”
“Get the fuck away from me. I’m not going to fall for your mean girl tactics.”, you scoffed.
“I like that attitude. Maybe that’s what he sees. He has always had a thing for being dominated.”, she quipped.
She adjusted the buttons on her designer jacket before continuing, “Look I know a poor little orphan girl like yourself is used to being on the loosing side of life, but that’s not how I live. I ALWAYS get what I want. I want Yoongi and I don’t care what or who I have to ruin to achieve that. He will not just throw me away like yesterday’s trash. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Do you really think he’ll want to be with you if you release that tape and ruin his life? Or after having him arrested like this? If anything he’s just going to hate you even more.”
“Oh please. Yoongi will pay off the right people and he’ll be walking free before the morning. I only did this as a warning so he can see that I’m not going to easily back down this time.”She walked over to the front entrance grabbing a hold of the door handle before turning around to look at you.
“Also, who said that mix tape is the only thing I have that could ruin him? If he’s even half as smart as I think he is he’ll know better than to cut me out of his life.”
She turned and walked through the door letting it slam behind her. You stood staring at the spot she now left empty.
Jimin came running over to you handing you a jacket, “Come on Y/N, I already called Jin and he’s going to meet us at the station. We should get going.”
Unable to really form words you nodded and walked along with him to the parking garage.
Neither you nor Jimin spoke on the ride there. When you arrived Jin was already waiting by the entrance.
“They’re working on booking him in right now. Once that’s complete they said they’ll let me have some time with him.”
You reached out for his hands desperately trying to get your point across, “Jin he was only protecting me. That other guy was the aggressor, Hwan assaulted me. Yoongi didn’t do anything wrong.”
Jin nodded, “We’ll get this figured out Y/N. I’m gonna talk to Yoongi and then we’ll get a statement from you as well.”
You could feel tears starting to form again and you were so tired of crying.
“Hopefully Yoongi can just offer some money or something and that’ll get them to drop all the charges. That usually works anyways.”, Jimin said trying to comfort you. “Yeah I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”, Jin said opening the door for you and Jimin to walk into the station.
“Sit here. I’m going to go get an update.”, Jin said before walking into the back office. You and Jimin took a seat on one of the benches to wait.
After about twenty minutes Jin came walking over and smiled, “Okay Y/N, you can come back and see him for a little if you’d like.” You nodded and quickly jumped up following after Jin. He stopped and turned to you, “Yoongi is in the seventh room on the left. Head that way. I’m gonna stop in here and make a couple phone calls and I’ll be in shortly to talk to both of you.”
You nodded and began walking down the hall. While you were walking you kept your head looking to the left counting the doors to get to the seventh room so you didn’t notice the person coming out of one of the rooms on your right until you accidentally ran into them.
Stumbling backwards you started profusely apologizing, “Oh I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was go- Namjoon? What are you doing here?”
You heard some whispering followed by loud giggles. When you peaked around his broad shoulders you were surprised to see Suri and Hwan sitting at a table sipping some coffee in the same room that Namjoon had just walked out of.
“I’m sorry Y/N. I have to go.”, is all he said before walking off towards the exit barely even looking at you. Suri smirked when she noticed you standing there speechless and stunned.
When you were finally able to make your feet move you walked down to the room Yoongi was in. He looked tired and beat down and you felt bad for him. You walked over and wrapped your arms around him and he returned the gesture even though he was slightly taken back by your willingness to hug him like that.
“How are you doing?”, he whispered.
“Umm so I just ran into Namjoon in the hallway. He came out of the same room that Suri and Hwan are sitting in.”
Yoongi’s face instantly turned red, “I knew I never liked that fucking guy.” You tried to sooth him, “I don’t know what he’s up to but I’ll try to find out.”
Jin walked in and you quickly noticed his facial expression wasn’t as chipper as he normally is. After everyone took a seat he cleared his throat, “Alright so I’m sure we were all prepared for this but after some discussions the police officers are willing to “misplace the evidence” causing the charges to have to be dropped on behalf of the police department pending a cash payment of course.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Of course they are. Just ask them their price and let’s get it over with. I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”
Jin looked apprehensive and began nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah I’ve already got it and it’s currently being taken care of by your accountant.”
“Okay so then why are we still here and why do you look so nervous then?”, Yoongi asked eyeing Jin.
Suddenly Jin pulled out his wallet, “I think it’s just because I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day and I can’t concentrate. Here is my card, Y/N will you be a dear and go grab us something to eat please? There’s a great bbq place about ten minutes away. Have Jimin drive you.”
You looked at him confused at his sudden request. “What the hell? Jin no. You’re not sending her out in the middle of the night to get you food.”, Yoongi said furiously.
Jin gave Yoongi pleading eyes begging him to play along for everyone’s sake. Jin turned to you and smiled, “Here Y/N take the card. Get whatever you want for yourself and Jimin too. I’ve heard the strawberry milk shakes are to die for.”
You looked over at Yoongi and he nodded gesturing towards Jin’s outstretched hand.
Hesitantly you took the card and walked out of the room to go find Jimin and get the requested food.
“What is going on Jin?”, Yoongi asked getting more and more irritated.
“It seems that Suri expected for all charges to get dropped so she came prepared with something even more detrimental. She just dropped a pretty big bombshell on me and I thought it was best for Y/N to not find out about this right now, at least not from me.”
Jin took in a deep breath his fingers slightly trembling as he flipped through some paperwork, “Suri has something about you that she’s threatening to release to the media. It could really ruin your business but it will definitely ruin whatever you have going with Y/N. She said she will make it public unless you agree to her terms which I don’t think you’re going to like.”
“Okay and what exactly are her terms then?”
“She wants Y/N to not file any charges against Hwan for assaulting her. I advised that I think that it is possible but I would ultimately leave that up to Y/N.”
Yoongi nodded in agreement, “Of course as it should be up to Y/N.”
“Suri is also requiring that you either allow her to move into your penthouse with you or that you purchase another penthouse and you live with her there. She also expects you to continue a relationship with her as you have been until recently.”
Yoongi scoffed, “She has officially lost her fucking mind. I am not doing that under any circumstance. At this point I’d rather just let her release the tape and be done with it.”
Jin sucked in a quick breath, “Yoongi this much much bigger than any lyrics in a mixtape.”
Jin slid the photo he had been holding onto over to the other side of the table, “She gave me this and said you’d probably want to see it.” Looking at the photo in front of him Yoongi felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, his breathing became rapid and no matter how hard he tried he felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. The room began to spin as he looked around through blurry vision. He began shaking his head side to side mumbling, “No no no no…”
“Yoongi we need to get this sorted out immediately, especially if you want any chance of things to work out with Y/N.”, Jin said pointing to the sonogram lying on the table in front of them.
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ninii-winchester · 2 months
Text
Unveiled Sorrows (Part 9)
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Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic)
Word count: 4k
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, mentions of sex, Taylor Swift reference (?)
A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
The drive back home was quiet. Dean was apprehensive about going back to the house but Y/n had put her foot down and told him she'd spend the night in the car than let Adeline anywhere near Samuel. She didn't trust him anymore.
"Uhm I only have one guest bedroom." Y/n said entering the house. Sam and Dean trailing in behind her.
"I'll stay here." Sam said pointing to couch on the living room. "The doors broken and I'm not sleepy anyway."
"I don't need the room either." Dean said looking at Adeline. "I'll grab a chair for your room. I need to make sure you two are safe." Y/n didn't argue. She was too tired.
"Can you watch her while I clean up?" She asked Dean who nodded taking Adeline from her arms. The little baby was already off to dreamland.
The two brothers sat beside each other, Dean was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Sam got up and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge handing one to his brother.
"We need to talk." Sam said sitting back down. Dean looked at his brother wondering what he wants. "What more do you need to make up your mind?" Sam asked his older brother. He seemed angry.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean said making Sam want to punch his face.
"I could punch you right now." Sam glared at him.
Dean's phone rang in his pocket and he tried to fish it out from his pocket so the ringing doesn't wake Addy. He pulled out his phone saw the caller ID.
"It's Lisa, could you hold her for me?" Sam rolled his eyes and took his niece from him. Dean walked a few steps away and then answered the phone.
"Hey, uh everything okay?"
"You tell me, Dean, are you okay? You said you'd be back by morning." Lisa asked softly.
"Yeah we uh... kinda ran into trouble." Dean replied vaguely.
"Are you okay? Who's we?" Lisa was worried.
"Me, Sam, Y/n and Adeline."
"Y/n and Adeline? Are they okay? What happened?"
"They're okay...now. Sam and I we got here in time."
"Dean." Lisa sighed.
"What?"
"You're an idiot, you know that?"
"Yeah I'm aware but it'd be nice if you'd elaborate." He chuckled.
"You're being an idiot, you're suffering and you're making them suffer. They're your family, they need you. And you need them just as much."
"Lisa.." Dean started but she interrupted him
"Dean, Adeline needs her father, i know how y/n feels, its hard watching your child grow up without a father, nobody would know better than me." She spoke softly as if talking to a child. "Think about Addy, Dean. It'll scar her for life knowing her father didn't choose her, when he clearly had a choice." Dean turned and watched his daughter sleeping in his brother's arms. The line went silent for a few seconds when she called his name.
"Yeah I hear ya."
"Think about Y/n, she loves you, you're crazy about her. I know what you're doing, Dean. You're deflecting, running away. It's not going to get you anywhere." Dean sighed knowing she's right. "Ben and I are safe Dean. You made us move, we started a new life, we're happy. its about time you do the same. Chase your happiness."
"You're right I guess." Dean let out a breath. "I don't know what to say."
"You could say thanks." He could hear the smile in her in her tone. "And do all of us a favour and stay there."
"Yeah, thanks Lisa." He smiled and hung up.
He walked back towards Sam, and huffed while plopping down beside him.
"What's up?"
"Uh Lisa kinda kicked me out." Sam gave him a bitch face which clearly said, im-not-in-the-mood-for-your-shit. "Well she told me I'm an idiot who's making everyone's life miserable."
"I'm not sure she said that but I totally agree with her." Sam replied.
Before Dean could reply Y/n emerged from the hallway into the living room, she looked fresh but tired. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a loose t shirt and some shorts.
"I'll take her." She said gesturing towards Adeline. "Sam, some of your clothes are in the guest bedroom, you can freshen up." The aforementioned man nodded and looked at his brother with a we'll-talk-later look. She watched Sam leave and turned to Dean. "You can use my bathroom, if you want. I'll order something."
"I'll wait till Sam comes back. Not leaving you here alone." Dean replied watching her as she ordered food.
After Sam came back, Dean went to shower, he didn't have his clothes with him so he had to make good with Sam's clothes. Which were a bit oversized for him. After dinner Sam promised he'd clean up and insisted Y/n retire to her room. Adeline was sleeping soundly in her crib.
"I'll be there in a minute." Dean called out behind her, feeing the need to reassure her. God knows she needs it. She nodded and left wordlessly.
"So what exactly did Lisa say?" Dean filled Sam in with conversation he had with Lisa earlier.
"I don't know how someone like you ends up bagging such wise women." Sam wondered out loud. Dean glared at his younger brother but didn't comment on it. "So what you gonna do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"You want to me to go in there and tell her that the woman I lived with kicked me out so I need her back?" Sam swore he could throttle his brother and he even moved his hands to wrap around his neck but stopped himself.
"Is that how it is?" Sam asked and Dean immediately shook his head. "Then her exactly how it is! You idiot." Sam rubbed his hand over his face. His brother might be a genius when it comes to monsters but he's a nutjob when it comes to feelings.
Y/n watched Dean's silhouette enter the room and drag a chair beside the bed. It was completely dark except for the moonlight peeking in through the window.
"You really don't have to." Her voice quiet in the dark, he stopped his actions as he heard her voice. "That chair would be uncomfortable. Get in the bed."
Dean didn't say anything but got under the covers beside her. Ten minutes passed in silence and again Y/n spoke up,
"Dean I'm trying to sleep." He looked at her in confusion.
"I'm not even doing anything." He replied.
"The cogs in your brain are too damn loud. Stop thinking." Y/n murmured. Dean sighed shifting on the bed. "Talk to me." She said propping her head on her elbow.
"It's.."
"Nothing." She completed. "I've heard that before." He peered up at her face, her expressions unreadable.
"I don't know where to start." Dean said staring at the ceiling.
"Whatever comes to mind." Dean took a deep breath before he spoke.
"I'm sorry." His eyes flickered to her face. She was patiently waiting for him to continue. "I am so sorry for being a mess. I..I ruined us, I was a coward. I'm sorry for hurting you. I know keep saying that, I keep trying to push you away because i want to you to be safe. I hate that I couldn't protect you or Addy." Dean felt himself tearing up.
"Dean, you keep pushing us away, why do you think its the only way? Maybe if you hadn't left we could've been safe. You could've protected us. You can't keep assuming you being with us is a bad thing unless you try, how bad could it actually be? I don't think anything could be worse than what happened today."
"I know that now, I just love you so much. I know I don't deserve to ask anything from you but if you could give me another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you."
"What about-"
"They'll be fine." Dean answered before she could even ask. "I am done running, I want to own up to my mistakes. I wanna be with you, and Adeline, where ever you two are. I want to save you, from every bad thing out there."
"Dean, you don't need to save me," she whispered looking at him. "But would you run away with me?" She grinned at him. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
He smiled at her. "We could do whatever you want, I'm okay with everything as long as you're mine. We could take it slow if you want."
"We've already wasted so much time. I don't want to take it slow. I know you're it for me." His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips. He pressed his lips against hers, they just as soft as he remembered. Their lips clashed against each other, tongues fighting for dominance. She pushed herself up to straddle his waist but he pushed her back on the bed, hovering above her.
"As much as I want to," he breathed heavily. "You're hurt."
"Dean."
"Baby no. I promise I'll give you whatever you want but just heal for me first." She nodded and he pecked her lips laying beside her. "Sleep now." He placed a kiss on her forehead.
The events of the day finally caught up to her and she was drifting into deep slumber. The next morning she woke up she half expected the bed to be empty but when she opened her eyes, she was met with bright green eyes already looking at her.
"Good morning." Dean smiled.
"Morning." She snuggled closer to him. She was more relieved than she'd like to admit.
"You sleep good?" She hummed in response wrapping her arms around his torso. He chuckled pulling her closer.  It was suspiciously quiet and Y/n wondered how Addy hadn't woken up yet or in the middle of the night. She shot up her position on the bed and winced when she felt pressure on her stitches.
"Hey what's wrong?" Dean asked. She didn't answer and walked towards the crib which was empty.
"Dean, Addy." She gasped, tears brimming her eyes.
"Baby calm down, Sam has her." Dean told her and she walked out of the room sighing in relief when she saw her daughter sitting on Sam's chest and slapping his face with quite force if she may say so. "See she's okay." Dean said wrapping his arms around her from behind. She nodded relaxing in his arms. She turned her face to kiss him and he didn't hesitate to kiss back.
"Are you two always going to be this gross from now on?" Sam's voice made them pull away.
"Yes." Y/n replied.
"I'll go make breakfast." Dean said walking into the kitchen but Y/n pulled him back and kissed him, tongue and all. Sam made puking noises. They pulled away and Y/n smirked at Sam and he rolled his eyes at her.
"I think Addy and I should go to the park. I don't want to sit here and watch cheap porno." Sam sassed.
"Aren't you brutal these days, Sammy." Y/n pouted at her best friend.
"He actually is." Dean yelled from the kitchen.
"What so now you two are going to gang up on me?" Sam scoffed playfully.
"No, but Sam something is weird about you. And no I'm not talking about your height." Y/n replied with a smirk.
"Try being surrounded by dumbasses all the time." Sam retorted. "I am just tired." He rubbed his face, still holding Adeline firmly. "Do me a favour and pack your stuff." Sam added.
"What for?"
"You're not staying here, not anymore." Dean said coming out of the kitchen. "Breakfast's ready."
The three of them walked inside the kitchen where Dean has sit up food on the counter. Coffee, waffles and eggs. Sam poured himself as cup of coffee, Adeline still in arms who was now biting and drooling over his shoulder.
"And who decided that?" Y/n asked taking a sip of her coffee.
"We did." Sam shrugged.
"Sam we've had this conversation before, I told you Addy isn't going to grow up in this life. I want her to be normal. I am out for good." Y/n said with a scowl on her face.
"And that's how it's going to be." Dean replied. "Just not here, we'll find a new place for us. You're out and no one's dragging you back, I promise." He added softly.
"I liked this place." She pouted. Dean let out a laugh and kissed her pouty lips.
"We'll find an even better place, okay?"
"One moment of peace." Sam hissed. "Is all I ask for."
"Suck it up, buttercup." Y/n teased.
"Cmon Addy, let's go somewhere we're loved." Sam said to the baby who just stared at her uncle.
"Aye gigantor, give me my baby." She said making grabby hands towards him. He rolled his eyes but place Addy in her arms nonetheless.
"By the way... I forgot to ask." Sam started. "Why were you half naked when we found you?"
Y/n choked on her waffle and avoided looking at either of the men.
"You okay?" Dean asked handing her a glass of water. She took it gratefully and nodded. Sam raised his brow at her and she wanted to murder him right there.
"Uhm you see the moment he came here I knew he was a shifter."
"How?" Dean asked.
"Because he came in as Sam and i had just gotten of the phone with him and Sam told me there's shifter in town collecting his babies." Y/n replied making the other to nod, urging her to go on. "I assumed he didn't know the relationship between us, he just came here because he saw you coming here so I thought..." she trailed off awkwardly.
"You thought that you'd seduce him." Sam replied with a grin, ready to tease the wits out of her. She glared at him in return.
"Hey, not my fault the XY chromosome is stupid like that, be it a monster or human. I took my top off he got distracted enough for me to stab him." Y/n replied defensively. The two men laughed at her words.
"That might actually be true." Dean added shaking his head.
After breakfast the three of them packed all of y/n and Adeline's things and stuffed it into Sam's car. They had Sam run to store and get a carseat for Adeline since y/n didn't have a car and never needed one. After strapping in they drove to their destination. But had to make a quick stop at Lisa's to get Dean's stuff and obviously his other other baby, The Impala. It was quick but a pleasant meeting.
"Oooh I missed baby." Y/n said walking over to the Impala and sitting in passenger's seat.
"Hm she missed you too." Dean replied getting behind the wheel after strapping in Adeline. "I've got three of my best girls here, aint I a lucky man?" Dean marvelled at the sight.
"Even after years, I'm still competing with a car." Y/n sighed playfully.
"There's competition, sweetheart." Dean looked at her lovingly. "No one can take baby's place." He added playfully.
"Dean Winchester, you're annoying" She swatted his arm lightly. He pulled her in a for a kiss.
"Don't worry baby you're my number one." He mumbled against her lips. The ringing of Dean's phone made them pull apart.
"Are you two done making out in the car because I'd like to get there before dark." Dean heard Sam's irritated voice from the phone. He just chuckled, hanging up he revved the engine to life and they drove off.
A knock of the door made Bobby look up from the book he was reading. He wasn't expecting anyone so he grabbed his gun before walking towards the door. He aimed the gun and then opened the door. He rolled his eyes and put the gun on the table beside the door. It was Sam and Dean.
The old man went back inside and the other two followed. Y/n was hidden behind their tall frames so he didn't see her. The three of them went inside. Dean carried the carseat in which Adeline was napping.
"So what do i owe this pleasur-" Bobby stopped mid sentence as he saw y/n, a few cuts and bruises littered over her face.
"Heya Bobby." She hugged the old man.
"What happened?" He asked and they filled him in. "All that happened and you couldn't give me a call?" He said frustratedly. "Are you three ever going to let me live peacefully.?"
"I don't think so, no." Y/n chuckled. Sam and Dean nodded their head along with her comment.
"Oh dear, you're the only sane person in this family." Bobby said picking Adeline from her car seat.
"Yeah just about until she doesn't start walking on her own." Dean smirked. "Insanity is in the genes, Bobby." He added sarcastically.
"Out of my sight." The old man replied.
"Don't worry about that, we'll go house hunting tomorrow." Y/n said excitedly.
"What you didn't learn your lesson this time?" Bobby asked rolling his eyes.
"All I want is Addy to grow up in a normal house and a normal life and that's not gonna happen in a house filled with guns and thousands of lore books." Y/n said exasperatedly, gesturing to all the books around her.
Nobody spoke after, an unsaid agreement was made. The next morning y/n and Dean went to look for available houses. They agreed to stay in Sioux Falls, Dean insisted it's safer to be close to Bobby's, just in case something happens when he's away.
"I can't believe it." Y/n whispered as she and Dean signed the lease of their new house.
"Can't believe what?" Dean asked.
"This, us, all of it." She replied looking around the house.
"I know baby, feels surreal." He walked towards her and kissed her. "But this is us, now."
"Yeah. You think Sam will like it? And Addy?" Y/n asked him with hopeful eyes.
"They'll love it." He wrapped an arm around her.
A month after moving in their new house, it was peaceful. This was the closest to being normal Dean felt. He was being the most amazing boyfriend to y/n and even better father to Adeline. One morning Dean decided to wake his girl with kisses and breakfast in bed, y/n groaned pushing him away.
"Five more minutes, D." She mumbled. He hovered above her and peppered her face with kisses. She blinked her eyes open. "I could get used to this sight." She smirked dragging her nails across his bare chest. He chuckled as she pulled him down and purred in his ear, "I think you owe me something, now that I'm completely healed." Dean let out a laugh and nipped at her jaw and dragged his nose along the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses.
"DEAN." Sam burst into the room and the older brother jumped off of the bed. Y/n was clothed but still pulled the covers to her chest.
"Sam what the fuck?" Dean growled at his brother.
"Uh I found a case.." Sam replied sheepishly.
"You found a case.." y/n drawled and her eyes landed on the clock beside her bed. "It's six in the morning." She groaned.
"Yeah I had a long night." Sam replied. "People are dropping like flies, Dean. We have to go." His words held urgency and Dean sighed.
"Can't you wait for like two hours or something?" Dean asked irritation lacing his voice.
"Dean people are dying in really weird ways." Sam pressed.
"You should go." Y/n spoke from the bed.
"Baby.."
"Dean.." He shrugged in defeat.
"Alright I'll meet you by the car in 20." Dean said to Sam who nodded and left the room.
"You go get ready and I'll check on Addy." Y/n got up and pecked his lips pushing him towards the bathroom. She walked to the crib placed in they their room, she still wasn't comfortable leaving Addy alone in the nursery. She watched her sleep peacefully. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and she melted into the embrace.
"You've been staring at her for like ten minutes, it's creepy, sweetheart." Dean murmured in her ear.
"Shut up and get your ass moving." She replied playfully. "I wanna lock the door and sleep some more."
"Too eager to get rid of me?" He smirked.
As if sensing her father's departure little Adeline woke up from her slumber and started wailing loudly. Dean immediately picked up his baby in his arms and hushed her while gently rocking her. "Daddy's angel woke up to say bye huh?" That didn't make Adeline feel any better and Dean didn't feel like going anymore. "Awe baby I'm sorry." He cooed. "What do you say we let Uncle Sammy go on his own?" Dean suggested.
"Dean.." y/n said in reprimanding tone. "I know it's hard but we'll be here when you get back, yeah?"
"Yeah." He nodded and kissed Adeline's head. "Daddy's gonna be back before you know it, be good for mommy okay angel?" Y/n took Adeline from him and followed out to the door. Dean opened the door and turned around, "you be safe. Anything happens you call me or head to Bobby's okay?"
"Yes don't worry about us and focus on the job, don't die okay?"
With one last kiss, Dean walked out of the door. Y/n waved at Sam who was impatiently waiting by the car. She closed the door and double locked it once they drove off.
The day went by just as how it goes usually. It was around nine pm when Dean called her. She answered the phone almost immediately, eagerly wanting to know all about the hunt. As Dean filled her in with all the adventures the brother's went through, she listened eagerly. She missed hunting, she missed the the feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins but all above that she loved Adeline. And she wouldn't risk anything happening to her.
"I'm just glad you two are okay and the hunt went well." Y/n said as Dean finished speaking.
"Yeah. Can't wait to be back with you and Addy." He replied. He paused for a minute he spoke again. "Thank you, Sweetheart."
"For what Dean?"
"For giving my dumbass another chance. For putting up with me over the years. For loving me. I can't ever make up to you for hurting you how I did but-"
"Dean, it's all in the past. I forgave you. Even if it may be a little selfish on my part but I want you. I've always wanted you. So just forget about it." Y/n replied, assuring him that they're way past whatever happened.
"I don't care if you're being selfish, or if you want to use me. Just know that I'm your problem now." Dean chuckled. "I'm at your disposal. I love you."
"No chick flick moments, De." Y/n giggled over the phone and Dean rolled his eyes at her even if she couldn't see. "But I love you too. And I miss you too much, so hurry your ass back home." Dean let out a laugh at her commanding tone.
“I’ll be home soon. You take care of yourself. Kiss Adeline goodnight for me.” Dean replied before hanging up.
Things have finally changed. For better.
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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months
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The Crucible [Hotch x Reader]
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Photo credits: Left (@roting) Center (@dudeitiskarev) Right (@moodboard-d)
Prompt: Aaron finds himself alone with a homegrown terrorist group whose leader he put away a year ago. He gets beaten, shot, and dumped in the woods where the reader finds him and attempts to keep him alive long enough for the paramedics to get to him. 
Pairing: Aaron x Non-BAU!reader, gender-neutral!reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns 
Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending] 
Word Count: 14.9K 
Content Warnings: Food is mentioned, alcohol is consumed, there is a hate group [the bad guys], severe beating [glass broken on a body, unwanted touch, forced drinking, punching, hitting, groping (Aaron)], shooting [Aaron], death by gunshot [a bad guy], gore,  mention of past abuse [Aaron], arguing, near death, hospitals, deep concern and coping mechanisms, language. If I missed any, please let me know. 
A/N: Hi all! It has been a while, but I am back now thanks to the end of the semester. I hope you are all doing very well! As always, I return with a novel of a Hotch story. I’ve had this idea for months now, and I am happy with how it turned out. I do want to encourage you to read the Content Warnings as this is angsty (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see a part two, let me know. I have many fluffy ideas for Aaron too, and those are coming, pinky promise. I am so happy to be writing again and hope to do a lot of it during the summer. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️
P.S. Special shoutout to @criminalskies for sharing emergency medicine with me for this fic! If I got things wrong, I'm sorry pookie.
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y/n = your name 
_c/t_ = coffee or tea
y/l/n = your last name 
y/a =  your age
Aaron drove down the lonely highway. He’d passed briefly through Shenandoah National Park. The peacefulness of the trees had calmed his mind for the hour that he was in the park, but as he got back onto the main road, the conversation that was bothering him started to edge its way back into his consciousness. Hotch wanted to close his eyes and potentially scream, but he settled for rubbing his hand angrily over his brow and then his eye bags that seemed to get heavier each day. 
Sean had reached out last week saying that he was going to be in New York meeting someone and had asked if his older brother had wanted to get a drink and catch up. To Hotch, this was last-minute planning according to him and his packed schedule. But he’d managed to drag himself out of bed and on the road on Saturday morning. When he got into the city, he and Sean met up at a swanky restaurant that suited Aaron’s taste a bit more than Sean’s. That at least he had to give his little brother credit for. 
In their adult lives, the Hotchner brothers had never seen eye to eye. It had only gotten worse when their mom had passed leaving the last real reason for them to be civil behind. Not that they were outwardly hostile, at least they hadn’t been until this afternoon, just that Aaron carried a lot of guilt and Sean had never seen to be able to step past his anger about what life had thrown at him. Neither could be blamed for their responses. But when Aaron arrived at the restaurant, Sean moved forward and shook his hand, and even gave him a hug with his other hand. Hotch returned the hug, realizing just how many years it had been since Sean and he had seen each other. 
They pulled back and looked at each other for a moment before moving inside and being seated. They both decided to just have a drink. Aaron got a mezcal mule and Sean opted for a margarita on the rocks. They both did a bit of catching up on their first drink, but things started to get rocky when Sean said, “So, I’m seeing someone new. Her name is Jennifer and she’s got three kids from a past relationship. I’m going to visit her and her family over the weekend. If things look good I’m thinking of moving from Nashville. Or I’ll invite her to move down with me.” Hearing this, Hotch took a sharp breath in. Sean had always been impulsive, but this was a lot, even for him. Aaron had hoped that with time, his brother would have grown out of this lifestyle. 
Hotch furrowed his brow and asked, “How long have you known her?” Sean sipped his drink but didn’t love Aaron’s tone. He replied a bit defensively, “A month and a half, but I don’t see why that’s a big deal. I’m just feeling it out, Aaron.” Hotch couldn’t help but scoff and say, “It sounds like a bit more than that.” Aaron’s reply only solidified Sean’s defensive nature, and he replied hotly, “Well what do you mean by that? You don’t even know Jennifer.” Aaron took a steadying breath. He didn’t want to come off as creating a narrative, or not trusting Sean, but Aaron had seen the same thing play out with his brother again and again, and each time Sean got hurt. Hotch looked at Sean and said, “I shouldn’t have said it like that. But what I’m trying to say is that you jump into things. You and I have both seen it before. You say that I don’t know Jennifer well, but from what I’m hearing I don’t know if you know her that well either, and you’re already talking about you or her moving across the country. Does that sound logical or well throughout to you?” 
Sean was already heated. Something about Aaron’s attitude made him feel judged. His older, well-put-together brother always had something to say about his life. Sean set down his empty glass and said, “Well maybe you’d know more about me and my life if you called me sometimes. Or unlocked yourself from the chain connecting you to your desk and came down and saw me sometimes.” Aaron sighed and tried to defend himself even though he knew Sean was right saying, “Sean, I have Jack. And my work doesn’t just let me have off time like yours does. Plane tickets go both ways. And you never answered my question.” 
Aaron pinched the bridge of this nose.  He just once wanted Sean to think through his actions. Sean responded, “You’ve always thought you were better than me. And I think you really stopped caring about me when Mom died. But let’s be honest, you stopped caring when dad passed.” The mention of their family so quickly broke Hotch’s facade of composure and he said, “Don’t bring family into this Sean. You know I don’t talk about that. I care about you and I want you to make good choices.” Sean let out a sharp breath and said, “You don’t talk about it because you refuse to admit how fucked up it left you emotionally, Aaron. At least I can connect with women. And don’t start acting like dad on me now.” Sean’s latest comment landed like a slap on the face to Aaron and he said, “You better not be comparing me to him, Sean. You had better not be doing that right now.” After all the beatings Aaron had taken for his mom and for Sean who always seemed to be getting into trouble during his younger years, the comparison made Aaron feel sick. Before Aaron had a chance to reply or defend himself for making a comment he already regretted, Sean continued, “And I don’t think you're qualified to comment on my relationships or how I’ve hurt people before. Haley dumped you and then died because of you. So I can think of at least one woman who’s been treated worse because of a Hotchner and it wasn’t me.” 
What Sean said made Aaron see red for a second. He stood, towering over Sean who was still sitting. It was one thing to have Sean bring up their parents, it was one thing to call him a workaholic and be emotionally unavailable. He knew these faults already. It didn’t really hurt him to hear them again, but the comment about Haley ate at him like acid on flesh. He had tried. He had tried so hard with Haley. He had loved her. He’d loved her with everything there was in him, and yes, it wasn’t enough, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. That her brutal death hadn’t torn him open sinew by sinew. Aaron felt his heart pumping in his ears. He was biting his tongue so hard that he tasted iron in his mouth. His fingernails dug into the calloused skin of his palms. If Sean was anyone else but his family, he would hit him. However, after all the abuse Aaron had seen, he made a promise to himself that he would never be violent with his family. It took everything in Hotch to uphold that promise. When Aaron came back to his senses, he realized he was standing. It was a good thing as Aaron grabbed his jacket and moved away from the table. He looked at Sean like he didn’t know him as he said, “Don’t ever call me again,” and walked out the door. 
The first hour of the drive back to Quantico was filled with a silence so oppressive that Aaron felt it weighing him down like an iron vest. The next hour all Aaron could think about was what Sean had said, and how he had responded. It wasn’t a good feeling. The way he’d ended things, but he wasn’t sure what else he would or could have done at such a cruel statement. If Sean could say something like that to him, to his face, then he felt justified with his final words of their conversation, even if Aaron had seen shame slowly creep up Sean’s face as he realized what he’d said. What Aaron ended up feeling for the rest of the hour was grief. Grief not only for missing Haley but for what felt like a death in his and Sean’s relationship. 
Hotch would have liked to drive all the way home, get another stiff drink, take a hot shower, and sleep, but the fact that he had a drink and it was still a long way off from home made that an impossibility. Aaron checked his gas tank. He did need a top-up and he hadn’t seen a station for miles, however, he approached what looked like a small bar nestled in the middle of nowhere. He slowed slightly and looked at the exterior of the old wooden building with a wrap-around porch. The Coors Light and Miller Light neon signs fighting to be seen in the bright daylight gave away that it was a bar and not some old building with a few cars parked outside. Hotch knew he needed a bathroom and this was going to have to do. It would be in and out. He’d grab a beer so he didn’t look like he was just there to relieve himself; even if that was the case. 
Aaron pulled into the parking lot. His hands tapped the wheel restlessly as he picked one of the many empty spaces. Something in his gut felt off, but he blamed it on the argument. As good as he was with dealing with stress, this was different. Hotch dropped his head for a second and tried to get his bearings. When he’d taken a deep breath, he raised his head and unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door, and swung his feet out onto the gravel of the parking lot. The stones crunched under his tread. Hotch stepped up the three stairs onto the wooden porch. He could tell the building had seen much better days. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was rot in the wooden beams that smelled of pine sap. Hotch opened the door which creaked on rusty hinges, as soon as he stepped into the dim, ill-lit room, Aaron knew that he had made a mistake. There there were five patrons and the bartender scattered around the small space. Three of the big burly men were sitting at the bar, and before they turned around to look at who had entered their space, Hotch could see the symbols of hate on their leather vests The antiquated flag of the South that rested above the bar solidified that this was the hangout for a very particular group of people. If he could, Aaron would have walked right back out the door. Even his more casual slacks and button-down were a far departure from the denim jeans, stained baseball caps, and leather, but it was too late, the men sitting at the bar had turned in their seats and eyed him suspiciously. 
It was too late to turn around now and just walk out the door. It would look strange and there was something inside gnawing of him to investigate this space further. Call the FBI with evidence of the type of activity happening here. Not only that, but his bladder protested as well. He quickly cleared his throat and moved into the space and toward the restroom sign on the far wall. He strode with a false confidence toward the bathroom, the men turned back to their conversation but with lower voices. After Aaron relieved himself, he moved from the poorly lit room that smelled like piss. He rinsed off his hands and realized that there weren’t any paper towels, so he opted to wipe his damp palms and fingers on his pants. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do. 
Moving back into the bar, Aaron stepped up to the wooden countertop next to one of the men who continued to eye him with distaste. The man behind the bar turned his gaze at the tall, broody man standing in front of him, sizing Aaron up. After an awkward moment, the barkeep asked, “What can I get you?” It was clear from the way everyone was acting that he was not welcome here. At this point, Hotch didn’t want to be here either. After letting out a low breath, Hotch replied steadily, “Just a Budlight.” The bartender nodded and grabbed a clean glass from the cups stacked up on the back side of the bar. He moved to the draft beers and filled the glass to the brim, the frothy head spilling just the smallest bit over. The man didn’t bother wiping the side of the glass dry as he added a lime to the rim. As the red-faced man sat the glass down in front of Aaron he said, “That’ll be five dollars.” Hotch nodded and pulled out his wallet. He made sure to keep his FBI ID hidden as he pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Aaron’s eye flicked up the flag on the wall, and he regretted giving this place any money. But he’d just drink his beer as fast as he could without it looking conspicuous and then get the hell out of there. He handed the man the cash who grunted and pulled out a slightly wet five-dollar bill from the tip jar. Hotch took a few sips from the drink trying to drain the glass as quickly as possible. There was no chance of taking a picture without it being obvious, but he’d call the FBI as soon as he was back in his car. In fact, as soon as he was out the door.  As he was drinking, one of the men from the tables near the window moved to the bar next to Hotch. 
“Another Coors Steve.” The man who had just ordered was so close to Hotch that he could smell his sweat and very clearly see his hateful tattoo. The fact that the man had that visible in this place only solidified that Aaron would never take this road again. This place seemed more than just a spot for the locals to hang out and chat over a cheap beer. Hotch was halfway through his beer and making good time when the door opened again. Aaron couldn’t help like the rest of the patrons to turn his head slightly at the entryway. Hotch felt his stomach clench as he saw who was walking in the door. All other thoughts left his mind, and his work side kicked in. Aaron knew the man walking in the door well. He’d arrested him one year ago for a litany of hate crimes. The memory of the two young men who had been killed by the man stepping up to the bar with a familiar smile made Aaron’s stomach turn. Roman Invictus LeBrant, formerly Hayden Jude LeBrant before he fell down the alt-right pipeline and joined a hate group was a hard person to forget. 
Roman noticed Aaron too. He was the man who had put him away for a year and two months of hell. Half of his time in prison had been spent in isolation for his protection as he kept picking fights with the inmates. Thanks to the fact that Roman had no spine and didn’t want to spend any time in jail, he had ratted out all of his co-conspirators and so-called ‘friends.’ Due to this, he had gotten off with a lighter sentence. The very sight of Agent Hotchner shot a bolt of rage through him. Roman’s face broke into a malicious smile. This time the tall and sauve FBI agent was on his turf, with his people. He didn’t have all of his friends to back him up. The man moved up to the bar with confidence. Everyone in the room's attitude shifted as their chosen leader entered their space. The man sitting next to Aaron quickly got up and made room for the man. Everyone also stood at the sheer presence of the man that they so revered. He stepped between Aaron and his friend. Roman looked at Steve and then to his left saying, “Steve, Dan. How are you motherfuckers?” The felon was so close to Aaron that he was brushing his thigh. The lack of personal space was meant to disturb Hotch, but it wasn’t working. Aaron had set down his glass, his eyes facing forward with a determined gaze. The fact was, as quickly as Roman had gotten out of prison, he had began his normal campaign of terror again. After that the man had made himself very hard to find, and to the top of the FBI’s most wanted list. So Hotch had a responsibility to make sure Roman got put back where he belonged. Unfortunately, Aaron couldn’t just whip you his phone and get the FBI here in an instant, and Roman knew this and was enjoying it. 
The bartender could sense the tension between Hotch and his friend but chose not to speak. Roman looked straight ahead as well saying, “Hotchner.” Aaron replied, “LeBrant” in greeting. Aaron could feel his gut clench with worry. There was little he could do right now. Roman had come in the front door and was well aware that he was alone, so Hotch was left with not much more than his wits. He had his small pistol on his left ankle, but reaching for that would do little good as everyone in the bar was probably armed. Roman finally addressed the bartender saying, “Steve, I’ll take a shot of whiskey and one for my agent friend too.” At the word agent, the whole room's attitude shifted again. It was tense before, but now that they knew a fed was in their midst, the tension turned to simmering anger and fear. 
Aaron knew that there wasn’t much worse than to be in a room full of people like LeBrant who were angry and afraid. Steve let out a chuckle and poured two generous double shots and placed one in front of Aaron and one in front of LeBrant. Aaron wearily looked at the drink and Roman took him with a single swig before turning to Hotch for the first time saying, “Aaron, I don’t think that drink is poisoned as I just had one myself, so drink up. I think you’re going to need it for what’s coming next.” Aaron met Roman’s hateful gaze, raised his shot glass, and said sarcastically, “To your health,” before downing the shot. The dark liquor burned down his throat and he stopped himself from coughing. As Hotch kept his face straight LeBrant asked, “So, have you liked my recent work? I’d think this is a sting operation on the FBI’s part, but you’re looking pretty alone from where you’re sitting right now.” The large man’s words were true as the group of men in the bar had all slowly started surrounding Aaron and cutting off any escape plans he might try and make. 
Aaron was racking his brains for a way out of this situation but the repetition of the question, “Didn’t you like my stunt at that church, Agent? Didn’t it get your blood flowing? It certainly had me, excited.” Hotch cringed at the implication and replied, “I find little to be excited about to send a sixteen-year-old suicide bomber into a church filled with people, mostly women and children.” Roman scoffed and nodded at Steve for a beer bottle. Aaron shifted in his chair slightly which had an impact as everyone, including Steve, pulled guns on him. Everyone, except LeBrant that was. He was the king of his castle and he knew he would be protected no matter what. Roman raised his hands and said, “Easy boys. Take it easy. We don’t want things to get messy, just yet at least.” Hotch swallowed thickly and Roman grabbed the bottle off of the bar, looking at the label before quickly whipping it above his head and over the back of Aaron’s skull. 
The sound and feeling of the ice-cold beer and the shards of glass colliding with Hotch’s head was so intense that it knocked him off his chair. Aaron took in a sharp breath as he closed his eyes as the alcohol streamed down his head and wetted his hair and the collar of his shirt. Closing his eyes didn’t help Aaron much with keeping a handle on the situation as he leaned heavily forward against the bar before being wrenched back by serval hands on his body to the center of the room. 
Aaron stumbled as he was led away from any support. He could hear a few low laughs at his condition but was more worried about what was going to happen next. Hotch opened his eyes to see the floor swimming in front of his eyes. Before he could even get his feet under him, a knee met painfully with his groin. The pain of the glass tearing open his scalp and the feeling of warm blood flowing from his head was surpassed by the acute pain emanating from his nether regions up his body. Aaron grunted with pain and screwed his eyes shut again. The hot, large hands fondling a sensitive area of Hotch’s body had him open his eyes again. 
He wasn’t surprised that it was Roman doing the fondling, thankfully at this point over his clothes. LeBrant spat in Aaron’s face as they made eye contact and Roman’s hand slowed as he said, “How do you like that Hotchner? How does it make you feel?” Aaron’s gaze hardened and he refused to reply to LeBrant’s taunts and demeaning actions. The gruff man gave Aaron’s groin a hard squeeze before stepping back. Hotch had just started to catch his bearings, when he realized he was being supported on either side of his body by two men with the rest of the gang stepping in front of him. His eye caught that his only gun had been taken. Roman, like a shark circling a bleeding victim in the ocean, hoping to get some sort of fearful response. When the man didn’t get one he snarled and pulled out a jack-knife and moved back to Aaron’s face flashing the point of the blade dangerously close to his skin. Still, Hotch didn’t flinch and Roman flicked the knife over Hotch’s cheek drawing fresh blood apart from the red liquid slowly causing Aaron’s vision to be disabled. Hotch naturally pulled back and Roman laughed before saying, “How would you like me to blind you, Aaron? Or cut off one of your ears. Do you think the FBI will still want you after that?” Aaron couldn’t stop himself from coughing out in pain as the men holding him tightened their grips on his forearms. 
Roman was happy with his enemy's position, as bloody drool slipped from his mouth and onto the floor of the bar. LeBrant stepped back and stated, “Boys, if you want to have some fun you can. You can blame Agent Hotchner for locking me up for a few years, so why don’t you pay him back in kind? Now, no serious boldly harm, and not too much blood. You’ll have to clean this shit hole up after the mess you make of him, but enjoy for a bit.” Hotch raised his head to look at Roman defiantly, hoping to show that he still wasn’t afraid. Whatever he had planned for him, he still didn’t regret putting him away, and putting him away again. LeBrant met Aaron’s stern brown eyes and sat back at the bar, grabbing another drink like nothing was happening. The man said over his shoulder as the real beating began, “You’re welcome for the whiskey, Hotchner.” 
LeBrant managed to down two more beers while watching and listening with a sick satisfaction to Aaron as he got punched, spat on, had drinks splashed in his face, and forced down his throat. Hotch gaged as another bottle was cast aside and hit the wall with the sound of shattered glass. He was beyond the point of silence as he took blow after blow to his face and torso. Aaron was sure his nose was broken as he took another hit to the face and his nose radiated pain through his nasal bridge and up his skull. He grunted in pain as his ribs got another beating. If pulverizing him to death was the plan, then the men surrounding him were doing a good job at that. However, what these bruisers weren’t very good at, and apparently Roman wasn’t good at noticing either, was that Aaron’s DNA was getting spread everywhere in the room from his saliva on the shattered beer bottles, or his blood dripping on the floor, or his hair which had been harshly pulled to jerk his head up. That was the thing about groups like these, they loved to act tough and strong, but their brains weren’t aways fully used. People like LeBrant could use others as a shield, but no matter what happened, it was going to be hard to get rid of every trace Aaron would leave in the space. 
Hotch’s hold on consciousness was becoming harder, but he managed to notice when the front door opened again. Aaron had hoped it would be someone who was an outsider like him, someone who didn’t belong here. But the normalcy of seeing a man being beaten told Aaron the new man was part of the group. Hotch’s neck hurt as he made eye contact with the man. He had sandy blond hair and clear grey eyes. The look of surprise and innocence quickly left the young man’s face before anger and hatred took over. Aaron dropped his head not sure what was happening but unable to support his own head. Because of this, he didn’t fully understand why the arms that were holding him up suddenly slacked and there was a heavy scuffle of feet as the floor came dangerously close. Before he could reach the ground there was shouting and then a loud popping sound that Aaron realized was a bullet once he felt a searing hot pain tear through his side whipping his body back and to the ground. The pain was worse than anything Aaron had already felt before now. The pain was so bad that he struggled to get oxygen in and his vision went black for a few seconds before he took a huge choking gulp of air in which only blinded him with more pain. 
While Hotch was writhing on the ground trying to get a grasp of what had happened and not blacking out, the older, more seasoned members of Roman’s gang stood for a brief moment of silence, as the men realized what had happened before an uproar started. They dropped their victim and rushed to the newest person in the bar throwing the gun from his hand. Roman stumbled out of his chair, face turning red with rage as he took a breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, “What the fucking hell are you doing Davies? What the mother fucking hell!” Spittle flew from his mouth and Davies, the newest, and youngest recruit to LeBrants' cause swallowed nervously. He hadn’t expected this response. He thought he’d get praise for his actions as he was always told to take bigger steps and take risks for the cause. Greg, one of the senior circles slapped Davies in the face and said, “Roman’s talking to you. Answer him.” Davies stuttered as he said, “That’s the guy that put you away. I thought that I should put him where he belonged. Hanged from a noose or underground. I ain’t got no rope, so I shot the fucker.” Davies was all in and zealous for the group's beliefs and in his case. Roman bowed his head and muttered “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath. 
LeBrant came back to the moment when Aaron let out a soft whimper and placed his hand over his stomach where blood was pooling dangerously fast beneath him and onto the ground. Even in his agonizing state, Aaron knew that the most important thing was to try and stop the flow of blood as much as possible. If it was instinct or training, Hotch couldn’t be sure with the pain he was in. For now, all he could do was try and survive. Roman was thinking the same thing for himself as a multitude of options flashed in front of his mind. He was the leader and he needed to act like one as Davies looked at him like a deer in the headlight while the rest of his men glanced uneasily between Aaron’s hunched-up body on the floor and their leader. 
Roman cleared his throat and took a more secure stance, with his feet apart and chest out. An idea was forming in his mind and he just needed his people to fall in line. Roman looked at Davies first and said, “It’s alright son. You did well shooting the fed. He earned it.” With those words, the men seemed to relax a bit and one knelt down next to Hotch to see the damage. Roman nodded a self-soothing gesture before saying, “Okay. Steve. Get us a trash bag or something to stop the blood so it will be easier to clean. Let’s do that first.” Steve rummaged through his back bar and tossed a roll of saran wrap and tape to Greg. Hank another senior member moved next to Greg and asked Roman, “Are we saving his ass?” LeBrant scoffed and replied, “Funk no. Just don’t want the fucker bleeding all over. Now, wrap him up tight, and don’t make it too comfortable on him either.” Hank snorted back laughter and he pulled Aaron’s torso off the floor roughly. Hotch tried uselessly to stop anyone from removing his hands from the gunshot wound, but he was too weak to put up a fight. His large hands were slick with blood as he tried and failed. Greg took out the plastic wrap and pushed the roll to Hotch’s stomach causing Aaron to groan out in pain. The pair on the floor moved the roll over the agent's wound minimally stopping the flow of blood. Davies watched as Aaron convulsed in pain on the ground. 
The young man had thought he would feel better killing a fed, but what he was seeing was making him want to vomit instead. When the seran wrap was taped tight over Hotch’s blood-soaked shirt Roman instructed, “Greg, Hank, Davies, go take Agent Hotchner into the woods. Far away. I’d recommend the national park. Don’t kill him. Let him bleed out or better yet, let some animal finish him off. Take him in his car and then when you’ve dumped the body torch the car.” Everyone else, we’re cleaning this place, top to bottom. No drop of blood, nothing can be found here.” Everyone nodded and took on their roles quickly. 
Hotch was jerked back to consciousness as he was dragged out the front door. He blearily saw someone open the door to his SUV before he was placed in the back seat. His brain was thinking of trying to run, to call for help, but he was stripped of his phone and hardly had the strength to keep his eyes open. Davies was standing outside the car still not sure what to do exactly, and most certainly not sure how to feel. Roman looked out the window at the man that had the potential to fuck his life over again. He turned to Steve and said, “Go out there and kill Davies. Headshot, make it fast, and don’t let him suffer.” Steve looked up at Roman and said astoundedly, “Roman?” LeBrant turned to Steve and said, “You heard me. The kid’s a liability. I am not going back to that shit fucking hell hole of a prison cell, and Davies seems to be trying to send me there, so go out there and get the job done. Put his body in the truck with Hotchner and tell Greg and Hank when they set the car on fire to leave Davies's body in there.” 
It was with blind adoration that Steve hesitantly grabbed his rifle and stepped outside. The young man was still standing while looking at Aaron’s SUV as Greg and Hank looked at a map to decide where to drop Aaron off to have his last few moments of life. They were arguing about accessibility, getting the car in without being seen, and lugging the agent out into the middle of the surrounding forest. It had to be just right without the chance of anyone catching them but still able for two men to pull off alone. They didn’t trust Davies for shit. He was too green for the whole operation. Not trustworthy in their eyes.
Meanwhile, Aaron had gathered some of his bearings in the back seat. He was unhappy with his supine position in the back. It would be far too easy for him to be taken out quietly and quickly after the SUV had pulled away from the bar. While Aaron was waiting for something to happen, he pressed his left hand to his side tightly, grit his teeth, and used his right to slowly inch himself up to a seated position. He was well aware that this position was causing him to bleed out faster, but at this stage, life didn’t seem too long, and if he was going to go out, he would understand as much as he could as to what was happening around him, and if possible, leave traces for the team to find his body after. 
The thought hurt Hotch as Jack would lose both of his parents. Aaron held himself back from crying, but the idea of his son being alone tore at him just as badly as the hole in his torso did. Aaron did not expect to see what he did. Just as his eyes got high enough to see out the window, the young man who had shot him had his name called from the porch of the establishment. Davies was about five feet from the bar and turned around. He didn’t see the shotgun in Steve’s hand, but Aaron did. There was nothing Hotch could do but close his eyes just before the blood splatter and brain matter painted the tires of his car. Aaron fell back onto the seat, not expecting to see an execution like that. He was too beaten to get back up, but at least he was laying on his side instead of on his back which would afford him a look out the front window so he could see where he was going or try and make mental notes of some landmarks; assuming that he wasn’t going to be blindfolded. From the state of things outside and groups shouting at each other, Hotch didn’t think that those dumping him would do anything more than take him far out and drop him. 
A few moments later the back door was opened again and several men heaved Davies's body onto the floor in the back of the car. Aaron didn’t focus on the body apart from unintentionally seeing what was left of what had been a youthful face. He was unrecognizable now. Hotch closed his eyes and tried to steel himself for the ride to come. If he survived long enough he’d think about the man on the floor -- later, much later. Right now he centered his head on Jack, then on the team who were on a case in Ohio. Lastly, he tried his best to listen to Hank and Greg as they got in and revved the engine. 
They were silent as they slowly drove out of the parking lot. The crunch of gravel and Aaron’s labored breathing punctuated the silence. It was clear to Aaron that the two men in the front were remaining quiet so Aaron wouldn’t have any more details about them, their plans, or the organization. He and the BAU had taken Roman down once, and they didn’t want to be in that frying pan again. As they hit the main road, Greg, who was driving, stayed just at the speed limit to not attract any attention from passing cars even though there were none on the road. However, as the car started hitting bumps, Aaron couldn’t hold in his pained grunts and whimpers as searing pain shot through him with each unexpected dip or rise in the SUV. It seemed that Aaron’s pained sounds were too much for the men, and they looked at each other and then the downed agent in the rearview mirror before they both started a light conversation that was fully juxtaposed to the gruesome scene around them.  
The men began talking about the weather and then talked about their wives. Aaron could hardly hear the conversation as he tried to keep himself awake. The duration of the car ride took about half an hour, and Aaron noticed one very strange-looking tree that had been struck by lightning and bifurcated down the center almost perfectly. His brain had started to be pulled into so many different directions as his sanity slipped away from the blood loss. His brain wondered how many trees like that got struck annually, and he knew that Spencer would have an answer to that question. The team flashed before his mind when an abrupt halt of the car almost had Hotch fly into the seatbacks in front of him. He managed to not have that happen, and shortly after Greg and Hank were at the left side of the car and both grunted as they pulled Aaron by the legs out of the car. 
Hotch almost hit the muddly path, but the two men held onto his underarms jostling him back to awareness. As strong as these men thought they were, they hadn’t realized just how hard it was to drag a limp body around, and Aaron had no strength to walk on his own feet and no desire to help in his own demise. In fact, if he could make it harder for them, he would. So Aaron coughed and made sure that some of his spit and blood got on the ground. Not only that but he also dug his toes into the earth so his tennis shoes left little trails in the mud. Hotch knew that if he was dealing with a more competent group, they would do something about this now, but Greg and Hank were too busy hauling him along to care at the moment. Greg was significantly taller than Hank and due to this, Aaron’s left side was far lower to the ground making the weight distribution of his toned body uneven. After only ten minutes, once the trio had entered what seemed to be a secluded and wooded part of the forest, the shorter man who was carrying the greater bit of weight grunted out, “Let’s dump him here. I can’t keep doing this and then have to trash a car too.” Greg, who was also tired agreed and they dropped Aaron like a load of bricks and took off as quickly as they could discussing loudly that there was a cliff face nearby and it was unlikely that anyone would find Aaron for days. Hotch moaned slightly and took in the scent of the wet earth near him. He supposed that dying in the forest, in nature, wasn't the worst place to go. It smelled nice and if he could only turn over he’d see the sky and canopy of trees above him once more. As his vision started fading again he realized he might not have that chance. 
Nearby Aaron’s dump site, y/n had been on a four-day long backpacking trip. They’d asked their boss for the Friday and Monday off months ago. y/n had needed a chance to unwind, be alone, and potentially scream into the void. That type of behavior didn’t normally fly in their apartment and they were feeling so much more at peace after their first day of hiking. y/n had found a lovely spot to set up their small one-person tent for the evening. When y/n had gotten up the next morning and looked down the tall rock ravine, they saw the bolts in the wall from previous climbers. They regretted that it had rained the last night making any climbing impossible. y/n considered continuing moving along the twenty-five mile trail they had mapped two months before, but realized that they weren’t with a group and they were already almost halfway through the trail and could finish hiking it in a full day. Because of this, and because y/n had promised to do whatever they felt like on this trip, they decided to stay in that spot for the day. It was a bit off the beaten track which is what they wanted and in all honesty real life had been so stressful recently that just taking a day to sleep, read, and swim in the nearby river sounded like exactly what y/n needed. 
y/n slept in another hour before making a cup of _c/t_. While they sipped their steaming cup, they picked up their most recent book and took a few minutes absorbing the pages of the story making small mental notes about where the plot might go and if some twist was coming in the next chapter. Somehow all the books that y/n read ended up having weird twists that they loved to hate. After getting through their drink and feeling warmed, y/n changed into light hiking attire that could be stripped down for a dip in the lake as long as the water wasn’t too cold or full of bramble from the rain last night. It was a short hike down to the water's edge and it was crisp, but not too cold to for a midday swim. y/n laid a towel down on the rocky shore after getting out of the water and drying off in the warmth of the sun. They dozed on and off as they tanned for a bit. Not that y/n was a vain person, but with the oncoming of summer, having a bit of a tan couldn’t hurt. When y/n was happy with their time by the lake, they moved back toward their tent and supplies which they had put in a bear bag and lifted high above the ground. It was about a thirty minute walk back to the tent when y/n would plan on what to do with the rest of their free day. 
It felt wrong to just waste such a pretty day. When y/n was close to their campsite, they stopped in their tracks abruptly. The sound of voices and heavy footsteps is what made them halt. y/n’s stomach dropped for some reason. If they were on a more well-known trail or popular camping site, y/n would likely greet those on their walk in the opposite direction. But this was different. This area was secluded, off the beaten track. And from the sound of it, it was two men moving slowly nearby. y/n had spent enough time outside camping and backpacking to hear loads of horror stories of those having bad things done to them on the trail. Sure some of them were overembellished, but certainly not all of them, and y/n wasn’t willing to take the risk with their own safety. y/n slinked back into the brush and hoped that the men would stop before catching sight of their tent. y/n took slow soft breaths and waited, all there was to do was wait. Just as the footsteps seemed to be right on them, they stopped. 
y/n couldn’t see the men. They’d stopped just out of sight. As they stopped, y/n realized that something was very, very wrong. The strong breathing of the men had hidden the sounds of another person. Someone who was clearly in pain. Their breathing was raspy like air wasn’t fully supplying their body. There was also a very painful-sounding grunt as the injured party hit the ground. One of the men said, “Fuck, that’s hard work. I don’t believe Roman’s stories now about all his brawls and picking people up in the clanger now.” There was a grunt and another, deeper voice replied, “Shit man, I don’t believe half of his crap, but he’s the boss. He says jump and I jump. Now let’s get back to the car and torch it. The agent here won’t last long.” The first voice agreed and said, “Yeah. I need a shower and another beer. Let’s hope it’s all cleaned up by the time we get back to Steve’s.” 
y/n felt like they couldn’t stand still any longer. The desire to take a deep breath of just look out to see what was happening at the men who were talking pulled at them like an itch. But not all itches should be scratched. Some needed to not be disturbed, and it felt like torture, but y/n held back from moving until the sound of chatter and footsteps were long gone. Even after they were out of audible range, y/n waited. After another few restless minutes, they got up from their hiding position. From the sound of it, someone, perhaps someone unsafe was very injured. Even so, it wasn’t like y/n to leave someone hurt to fend for themself. With caution, y/n moved through the low brush and mud, and after a few paces, they noticed a man lying on his stomach. It didn’t take y/n more than a second to realize that the man on the ground, even if he was some hardened criminal, was unable to fight. Besides this fact, there was the comment about the “Agent not being around long,” so the man might have been on the opposite side of crime. Without hesitation y/n moved next to the prone form in the mud and set down their backpack. The man gave a small sound, perhaps aware that there was someone else near him. y/n looked over the man and noticed the saran wrap around his torso. It was a poor attempt to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound. Given how much blood the man had lost, there was no time to lose in getting the man medical help. 
y/n knelt down next to the man and noted the thick blood coating his forehead and brow. y/n patted his shoulder, and he managed to open his eyes. Aaron could see the blurry figure of someone kneeling in front of him. He thought it was a hallucination until they touched his shoulder and tried to say something to him. Understanding the stranger's words was beyond all comprehension to him now. y/n could tell that he didn’t understand or see them well, but at least he was awake. It would be in his best interest to keep him awake. If the man slipped off to sleep, he may never wake again. So with that in mind, and to try and keep him in as calm a mindset as possible, y/n took off their jacket which they had tied around their waist, and placed it on the man’s back. It would do for a bit of padding and something to soak up the excess blood. There was no need to cut this side of the plastic wrap, and why it had been added in the first place was a mystery. But that wasn’t the main goal right now. The main goal was to stabilize the man for long enough until medical help arrived. y/n grit their teeth and said firmly. “I’m going to roll you over onto your back and then run to my tent and grab some supplies while I call 9-1-1 for you, okay.” 
The man didn’t make a sound, but y/n knew that shifting his weight was going to be painful, so they didn’t waste more time. Given the man’s parlor, there was no time to waste. y/n grabbed the man’s shoulder and hip and tried to slowly and carefully roll him onto his back. As soon as y/n pulled their hands away, which were slick with blood, the man groaned in pain as his body settled. He was still awake. y/n cringed to hear him and said, “I’m going to run to my camp, get some supplies, and call in an emergency helicopter. I’ll be back in five minutes max.” y/n swallowed thickly trying not to be sick at the sight of the man. They grabbed his right hand and placed it over the bullet hole. The man’s hand was crusted over with blood, and it was large. His fingernails had dirt caked under them, and y/n imagined that it might be painful when he got washed up with all the hair his arms had on them. y/n snapped back to the moment. It had only been a millisecond, but in moments of high stress,  they always found themselves focusing on the smallest, most insignificant things. They shifted their eyes to the man’s and he seemed to be locked on theirs. y/n nodded their head and said, “Hold your hands here, as hard as possible, okay.” The man nodded slightly, and with that, y/n got up and ran toward their campsite. 
It was in moments like these that y/n hated that they didn’t always carry their cell phone with them when they camped alone, but then again, they hadn’t expected to find themselves in this situation either. y/n was an experienced outdoors person. With friends and family that respected and highlighted being self sufficient and being able to take care of one’s self. In their world being unable to handle any situation was a weakness and therefore y/n had pressed themselves to always be prepared. This included knowing basic first aid and other skills that were more niche to their interest in spending a lot of time outside. Although it had been hard to be a parental figure and having to figure out being self-sufficient from a very young age, the parentification had equipped y/n for moments like these, and for meeting strange men in the woods if it ever came to that. y/n ran as quickly and as carefully as possible. It would be no good to anyone if they slipped and twisted or broke an ankle or wrist before getting back to the man. The image of his bloody and bruised body was seared in their retinas. They hadn’t seen anything this bad, ever, and the questions on what had happened to the man and who he was came faster than y/n could process them. It was all a sickening blur. y/n made it to their camp and almost dove into their tent. They found their phone first which was still on the solar-powered charging brick. y/n checked for a signal and let out a small prayer of thanks that there was a signal. Even though they were pretty far out, a signal was more often present than not. And if there wasn’t, there were always ways to contact emergency services, but it would take longer, and there wasn’t time for longer right now.
         After one ring the emergency operator answered, “9-1-1, please state your name and the nature of your emergency.” The woman on the phone sounded calm, calmer than y/n felt. Their breath had picked up with all the running, and they had to clear their throat before saying, “My name in y/n, _l/n_. I’m at Shenandoah National Park on the east side camped near Ghost View Lake. There’s a man who needs a Medevac as soon as possible. He’s been shot in the torso, and he’s been severely beaten.” There were a few clicks on the other end of the line and the responder asked, “Are you with this man now? Is he still breathing?” y/n nodded, taking in the person’s words before saying, “I’m not with him right now. He was breathing when I left him. I had to run to my tent to call you and get my emergency supplies.” There was more typing and a muffled voice on the other end of the line before the woman came back on saying, “Please get back to the man as quickly as possible. Do you have any medical training?” y/n nodded saying, “Some, but not much. The bullet seems to have gone clean through though, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” As y/n was speaking, they began packing all of the important things to help the hurt man into their large backpack. By the time they had started zipping up the sides, the operator had told y/n to get back to the Hotch and light a flare for the helicopter to see so they could find a spot to land. The woman relayed that it might be twenty minutes or more before help came, and to keep the man awake if possible. As y/n ran back toward Aaron, they were given more specific instructions on what to do once they were back. y/n kept the woman on the line and as soon as they found an open and dry spot close to where they had found Aaron, they pulled out a flare and struck it against the cap of the flare. Once the melting hot red light burst from the tip like the tale of a demon, they set the flare on a smooth rock, far enough away from the wet brush and leaves to not start a forest fire. Once this was done, y/n moved as quickly as possible back to the man.
         Since y/n had been gone, Aaron felt his strength ebb again. Had the person said something to him? The world was dark again and he was beginning to feel numb. But the memory of the feelings of their hands on his, pressing against his stomach reminded him that they had been real, at least for a moment. Hotch also knew that sleep was death, and therefore grit his teeth and pressed against his torso again over his wound. The pain shot through him again, though his time was less intense; he knew this was not a good sign. Just as Aaron felt his hand slipping, he noticed a bright red light in the corner of his vision, and the person who had been with him before returned.
         y/n skidded to a halt in front of the man, falling to their knees saying, “Hey, you’re still with me. Good. You’re doing good. Help is coming, I promise.” y/n placed their hands on either side of his head and the feeling of their fingers on the side of his face had Hotch open his eyes slightly. Just the simple feeling of touch was a comfort, even if he was doomed to bleed out on the forest floor. Hotch pondered how funny small things became huge things when life was about to end. y/n noticed his brown eyes on them and said, “I’m just making sure your head is laying flat. Then I’m going to check your mouth to make sure you’re not going to choke on your own blood.” Aaron tried to nod, but he couldn’t manage it. y/n knelt further forward and helped Aaron open his mouth. Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any blockage of his trachea, though his breathing was labored. Where or what that situation was, was beyond y/n, so they moved to the next thing the emergency operator had said to do. 
The woman was still on the phone, but y/n was so hyper-focused on the task in front of them, that they didn’t think to give a report on the man’s condition. While he was trying to see the person in front of him more clearly, y/n started pulling things out of their backpack and setting them on the ground, attempting to not get them muddy or contaminated while still being efficient. Once y/n had pulled out their small knife, their first aid kit, and the clean clothes they had, they rezipped their bag and moved to the man’s feet. y/n spoke loudly, so the man could possibly hear, “I’m going to raise your feet. Keep the blood going to your head as much as possible. y/n grabbed their bag and placed it just to the side of the man’s lower legs. y/n didn’t want to shift the man’s body much, if at all, so they had to have things in place. They took another sturdy breath and lifted his left leg just high enough to move their backpack under his knees. The man groaned and y/n said, “I’m sorry. Sorry,” y/n repeated one more time before moving the other leg next to the first. y/n knew that this would be the least of the man’s pain. y/n placed their hands on the ground and took another stabilizing breath, reminding themselves that they could do this. That they could do anything, that they had had to do everything. y/n tried to picture the man as someone they’d protected in the past. Someone that they would do anything for. This helped y/n in moving forward to the next step. Before doing what needed to be done, y/n looked at the man again, tapping his face. Those big brown eyes met theirs again, half understanding, half sad. y/n said more softly this time. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Try not to bite your tongue. Keep your teeth clenched,” y/n demonstrated, “like this.” y/n they looked a fool, but what else could they do?
         y/n pulled a packaged sanitary wipe from the ground and ripped it open. They rubbed it over their hands thoroughly. When the moisture had evaporated, y/n grabbed their first aid kit and pulled out all of the cotton balls and cotton bandages that were inside. y/n placed them on top of the kit and hoped the no wind would blow the supplies away, there were already scant few as it was. Next, y/n grabbed their knife and opened it with a flick of the wrist. y/n knew that once they made the next move there was no going back until the medics arrived. With a look of determination, y/n shifted forward and carefully slipped the tip of the knife under the plastic wrap covering the man’s front. His shirt protected his skin from the sharp blade from cutting him further, and y/n cut up and out with as much care as possible. The blood made the surface of the saran wrap slippery in y/n’s free hand and the multiple layers were not as easy to cut through. However, after what felt like an eternity and with y/n’s heart beating loudly in their ears, the plastic was freed from his body. y/n quickly closed and locked their blade and pushed the plastic barrier aside along with Hotch’s soiled shirt. Even though the saran wrap hadn’t done much to stop the blood from leaving the man’s body, it’s removal along with the final absorption barrier being pulled aside allowed the blood to ebb up a bit more in a trickle of crimson. Again y/n didn’t have time to look at the deep red pooling up on the man’s stomach. Instead, they grabbed a cotton ball and with as much mental strength as they had, pushed it into the weeping wound. The man’s body jolted in pain, but y/n ignored him and grabbed another piece of cotton and then another, pushing each of the white puffs into the bullet hole. The clean cotton was instantly stained red, and y/n tried to ignore the man’s cries of pain knowing that this was for the best. Keep the blood in the body, get his legs up, keep him awake. That was what the nurse had said and what was what they were going to do. At least to the best of their ability. Another eternity later, the hole was filled. It was still releasing blood but at a slower pace.
y/n grabbed the biggest cotton bandage they had and pressed it on top of the packed wound. y/n placed both hands over this last dam, and pressed down to try and keep the man stable. To keep him alive. It wasn’t until all of this had been accomplished that they managed to look up at his face. The man’s eyes were drooping closed and y/n said, “Hey, hey, stay with me. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Aaron turned his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look at the person helping him. It was a comfort to be in their presence. He still couldn’t see them so he said in a low voice, “Hotchner.” y/n nodded, assuming it was a last name. They were at a loss for what to say next. Nothing felt right, so they opted for questions, easy ones. Or at least ones that seemed easy for them. “Hi, Mr. Hotchner. Where were you going today? What brought you this way.” 
Aaron, whose brain had been feeling numb for some time, had started getting more blood circulation thanks to his legs being lifted off the ground. He could feel his helper's hands still over his side. Where he was and what was happening felt beyond him again. He didn’t like the feeling at all, but his body was shutting down and he half-mumbled, “I’m going to see my wife. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” y/n, nodded and replied softly, “I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you. And I know you’ll be happy to see her.” It wasn’t until this point that y/n had thought about him as a person. Not actually as a person, person, but as a man with a life and things outside this very moment of survival. But as they raised one hand and just barely shifted his hair that was caked with blood, off his forehead it became increasingly more difficult to see Mr. Hotchner as anything else than a man who is hurt and probably afraid to die. At the person’s touch, Aaron moved his dominant hand up and this allowed y/n to see that he wasn’t wearing a ring. This fact only came to y/n’s mind because Mr. Hotchner had just said that he was going to see his wife. y/n justified that perhaps the man was just one of many many husbands who didn’t wear a wedding ring, but for some reason, y/n didn’t think that this man would be one of them. Something in their gut just said otherwise. A moment later Hotch said something that would shock y/n even more as he said, “I’m worried about Jack. I can’t go away.” y/n looked up at him and moved their hand back to the now blood-soaked bandage and asked, “Who is Jack Mr. Hotchner?” 
The image of Jack passed in front of Aaron, and he saw himself holding his child, Jack smiling. Maybe it was Christmas time because the lights were twinkling in the background. Then Jack at his first soccer game came to mind, his little legs carrying him toward a ball he was sure to miss. Hotch blinked back tears as he came back to himself. Weakly he said, “My son. Jack is my son. He’s a good kid. Really good. He doesn’t deserve this.” Aaron was thinking about the very real possibility of his son losing both of his parents, but he didn’t vocalize that out loud. y/n furrowed their brow and said “You’re going to be fine Mr. Hotchner. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see your son and your wife again. I know it.” y/n was speaking to themselves now mostly. The trauma of finding someone brutalized in the woods and the possibility that he might die in front of them was finally settling in. y/n had experienced trauma before, but not like this. This was different. Thankfully y/n didn’t have much time to explore this train of thought as the sound of the helicopter approached nearby. y/n bowed their head in thanks for the sound that drowned out their thoughts and didn’t even realize that they had set their head on Aaron’s chest while still keeping their trembling hands on his wound. 
When they arrived, it took the emergency medics a moment to pry y/n off of Aaron as they struggled to let the man they were trying to save go. When y/n realized what was happening, they moved off to the side on unsteady feet and watched the flight paramedics assess and then begin rudimentary efforts to stabilize their patient. y/n watched as a blood transfusion was started and the packing of the bullet wound was made better with medical-grade supplies. These things felt like a blur and as the two-person medical team began moving Aaron onto a stretcher, the sound of police sirens in the distance became audible. y/n realized that the helicopter operator had shared the patient's location and law enforcement was coming to help. This allowed y/n to relax slightly realizing that they were not going to be left alone in the woods once the Medevac was gone. 
Although y/n had felt peace knowing more help was on the way, the questions seemed endless as police arrived and went over the course of the afternoon again. They pointed out everything. Said as much as they could remember and watched as the orange helicopter lifted off and moved Eastward. The last thing they heard from the trauma team at the hospital was, “We have a multisystem failure. Patient is already on a transfusion and Fentanyl…” as they passed by,. y/n’s brain now felt like scrambled eggs and they longed for some respite. Eventually, the police said that y/n would need to come to the station and that they could get a ride in one of the cruisers. Behind y/n’s back, the officers also noticed that y/n should also go to a hospital, and driving there themselves was not a safe idea for them. A few minutes later, y/n tipped their head against the headrest in the backseat of the police car simply letting things happen to them at this point. The officers had assured them that a recovery and crime scene team would gather their belongings from their campsite along with their car. This was all for evidence too, but y/n was too tired to comprehend what was being said to them. 
A few hours later y/n made it out of the room they had been seen in at the hospital. It was very dark outside at this point but the police had easily identified the man they had found, Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner. The words ran over y/n like a wave. Anything would bowl them over now, but finding out that they had found a federal agent near death in the woods was astounding. In the hospital, y/n was given a thorough exam and then given some strong sleep medication and some Benzos so that y/n could have a sound night’s rest. The local police station had called the Quantico Field Office to let the Beaure know that Agent Hotchner was in critical condition at the JFK University Medical Center.
 As it turned out the BAU was out on a case at the moment, but the Lead Team Coordinator said they would reach out. Within the hour the hospital and police station knew that a member of the BAU was flying up immediately on their jet and should be there sometime around three in the morning. With this information in mind, the police had asked y/n to stay at least one day in town before going home. The very professional-sounding man, Agent Rossi, who was headed to the hospital had asked them to stay and talk. The police had made the choice easy by booking a cab and a room to get y/n from the hospital to the hotel room they had booked in their name. Thankfully, y/n’s boss, after a few minutes of explaining what had happened, had given them the rest of the week off. y/n knew they would need it. Nothing felt quite real anymore and some more time alone would be good. Before y/n went to call the cab, to get a shower and sleep, they stopped at the receptionist's desk and asked, “Do you know if Aaron Hotchner is in a stable condition?” The nurse asked them how they knew the patient and y/n showed their own medical bracelet and explained that they had found Mr. Hotchner. The man looked at y/n and how tired they appeared, nodded, and replied, “I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about the patient” There was a long pause before they added, “However, Mr. Hotchner is still in the ICU.” y/n nodded, wanting more information but also knowing that they had already been told more than was allowed. With that scant information, y/n moved outside and caught their ride. 
The first thing that was surprising to Aaron was the fact that he woke up at all. The feeling of the stiff mattress against his fingers and the crisp sheets covering his body. The sterile scent of antiseptic was the next thing he noticed. He took a few moments to just take in the fact that he had survived the ordeal with Roman. Much of what had happened after the beating in the bar was foggy and beyond his reach. He tried to take a deep breath to center himself but that was a serious error as this triggered parts of his body that weren’t ready to be used that way yet. He let out a cough only exacerbating his pain. The feelings of multiple IVs which he detected now became more apparent and when he opened his eyes, the blurry figure of someone standing came into better focus as the door to his room opened letting in more light from the hallways. As his vision cleared, he could see Dave turn around and greet someone who must have been a doctor. Rossi stepped back a bit, but just knowing Dave was here let Aaron be checked over and taken care of. He didn’t have the energy for much more than being pocked and very lightly prodded before he slipped back into unconsciousness. 
The next time Hotch woke, he was more aware. The room didn’t spin and he could see Dave looking down from his seat near the hospital bed. Aaron didn’t know what to say and just said, “Hey.” At hearing Hotch, Rossi sat forward in his seat and softly replied, “Hey there. Looks like you had a hell of a time with Sean.” Sean hadn’t even crossed Aaron’s mind, but Dave’s attempt at humor while he was feeling like hell was actually funny and Aaron let out a half scoff, half laugh before leaning his head back on the pillow. It wasn’t until he tried to move the blanket to feel more covered that he realized his arm was in a cast. His whole body felt numb, and in that moment, he was grateful for opioids. Rossi moved forward and moved the blanket up and over Aaron’s shoulders. Hotch looked up at Dave and asked, “How bad?” Rossi’s eyes moved toward him, a sure sign that it wasn’t good. After a deep breath, Dave said, “You lost a lot of blood, you’re fighting an infection, concussion, broken arm, and multiple lacerations to your head and body.” Hotch nodded, absorbing the information before saying, “Yeah, Sean really did a job on me.” Rossi could see regret in Aaron’s eyes even though the statement was an attempt at a joke. Dave frowned. Something had happened with Sean and it wasn’t fair to Aaron after being through such a crucible that he should feel bad about anything at the moment. Dave thought about reaching out and patting Hotch on the shoulder, but it was likely Aaron wasn’t looking for touch right now, so he settled with telling his best friend that the team was coming to find LeBrant, who had gone into hiding, and how Jessica would bring Jack down when the doctors said it was okay. Aaron nodded again, thankful that Dave knew him so well. When Rossi had given him some time to just relax and center himself, Aaron asked, “Who was it that found me? Have you seen them?” All Aaron could remember about the person who had saved his life was that they had stayed with him. That their presence, even if he had died, had made him feel safe. 
Rossi replied, “I haven’t seen them yet, though I’ve asked them to meet me here. There are some questions I still have about their report. They should arrive in a few minutes, and that way you can have some time alone if you like. I did read about them, they’re name is y/n y/l/n y/a and they live in Virginia.” Aaron swallowed, his mouth feeling dry before saying, “I’d like to see them when they come. If they’re comfortable with it.” Dave nodded and replied, “I’ll ask them when they get here. For now, just try and rest. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll get the nurse.” Aaron nodded and let his eyes slip closed again. He could sense that Dave was keeping things from him, about what he couldn’t tell, but he’d ask in time, for now, he was alive. 
y/n entered the hospital again. This time it felt better. They were going to get some answers, hopefully, or at least some information about Agent Hotchern’s condition. They’d answer more questions about that information. After the last few day or so the thought of Mr. Hotchner hadn’t left their mind. y/n went to the receptionist who paged another party in the hospital and after a few minutes, an older man walked into the hallway. y/n could tell that he was Agent Rossi instantly. His clothing and demeanor gave him away, along with the deep circles under his eyes. y/n turned toward the man and extended their hand toward him. Rossi gave y/n a reassuring smile and as he took their hand said, “Hello. I’m Agent Rossi. You must be y/n y/l/n?” y/n nodded yes and said, “Yes Sir. That’s me.” Dave gave a small laugh at being called sir, and gently led y/n to a seat on the far side of the waiting room. They both took a seat and there was a moment of awkward silence as they both made mental observations about the other. Finally, y/n said, “Agnent Rossi, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about my report, but could you tell me if Mr. Hotchner is alright?” Dave dipped his head and pulled himself together saying, “He’s doing better. He’ll have a hard and long recovery, but he’ll be alright. Hotch has gone through a lot, he’ll make it through this too.” y/n listened thinking about the type of person that can say with confidence after such an ordeal that they would make it though. It seemed like a lot, but Mr. Hotchner was clearly cut from Kevlar. y/n replied, “Thank you for telling me. Now, um, what questions did you have for me? I wrote down some notes to try and jog my memory.” Rossi lifted an eyebrow as y/n pulled a notebook from their mini backpack and flipped to a page that had a neat, color-coded timeline of events. Dave smiled at this before saying, “I would like to look at your notes, but I have some questions of another nature to ask first.”
y/n looked confused about what Rossi had said, and he clarified stating, “I’d just like to know if Aaron said anything to you while you were with him?” y/n let out a breath realizing this was a more personal visit. This was to see how his coworker was, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. y/n felt bad for not having thought of that before now and swallowed, realizing this was going to be another layer they would need to unpack within themselves as well. After this thought had passed, y/n replied softly at first, “We did kind of talk, though I did most of it to keep my mind still.” Rossi nodded encouraging y/n to continue, which they did. “I did ask him where he was going and he said that he was going to see his wife. And that he was sorry for his son. He tried to say more after that but it was all sort of jumbled up.” y/n looked up, fresh emotions welling up in them at the remorse that Mr. Hotchner had shown while he lay dying. There was a glimmer of tears in Dave’s eyes too and y/n moved a hand to his comfortingly and asked. “Agent Rossi?” to check in on him. Dave sniffled and moved a handkerchief under his eyes before squeezing y/n’s hand back replying, “Please, just call me Dave. Aaron’s wife passed a little over a year ago. I, I guess I didn’t know what he would think about, but it would make sense.” 
Hearing Dave’s words, a pang of hurt shot through y/n. Suddenly Aaron’s words made more sense. He said he was going home and being sad about it. Jack’s name popped into their mind and y/n asked hopefully, “His son, Jack. He said he had a son. Is he okay? Is Jack with his mom?” Dave closed his eyes and replied reassuringly, “No. Jack is fine. He’s a sweet and hyper kid.” That thought, of Aaron’s son being there for him, made y/n feel better. It was strange for them, to have such intense and strong feelings for a man they hardly knew, but then again, they had been through a lot together. There were a few more minutes of silence as Dave processed and moved on by asking to look at y/n’s notebook and to ask questions for them. Looking at y/n’s notes and the very detailed recount they had written was precise and smart. Not perhaps like a profiler, but somewhat so. That conversation lasted about a half hour and Rossi could see that y/n was tired and he still needed to broach the topic of them seeing Aaron, so to take something off of their plate he began by saying, “y/n this has been very helpful for me, both as Aaron’s coworker and as his friend. I know you’ll need your own time to process and work through all of this but I might need to contact you again by myself or a member of my team. Would it be okay if I left you my number and I got yours?” y/f felt a hitch in their breath thinking that this might be over. All the adrenaline came to a big crash like a wave on the rocks. But it had to end sometime, at least they thought so, so they nodded yes. The pair traded numbers and then Dave said, “y/n, I know this has been a lot, but I was just with Aaron and he asked if he could speak with you if you’re up to it. If not, he’ll fully understand.” 
At the suggestion, y/n’s eyes shot up in surprise. Not that they hadn’t been thinking about the man twenty-four-seven since they’d first seen him in the woods, but the idea that he would even want to see them felt like a surprise. Curiosity suddenly turned into apprehension and for a second they thought about running out of the room for some wild reason. But y/n came back to earth and knew that perhaps this would be their only time to see the man they’d helped and it would hopefully make things feel more resolved, more final. And they’d have the peace of mind of knowing that he really was alright. So y/n nodded yes and Dave gave them one of his reassuring dad smiles and got up, leading y/n toward Aroon’s room. He flashed his badge when he came across anyone looking at him funnily. At the door to Hotch’s room, Dave knocked and opened the door slightly saying, “I’ve got a visitor for you, Aaron.” There was a muffled response from inside and then Rossi stood back and said, “I’ll be just outside when you’re finished.” y/n swallowed thickly and stepped into the room. 
The space was large enough for a chair or two by the hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment that beeped on a cycle of minutes, keeping time. The lights had been dimmed and as y/n’s eyes adjusted, they took a small step closer toward the bed. Mr. Hotchner was all cleaned up from his blood-soaked state and now that he was visible, y/n couldn't help but notice how striking and attractive he was. y/n pushed that thought aside, it wasn’t the time. His dark eyes met theirs, and y/n said awkwardly, “Hello Mr., I mean Agent Hotchner, Sir.” Hotch let out a half laugh and said replied, “It’s alright, you can call me Mr. Hotchner, or just Aaron is okay.” y/n nodded listening to his deep voice. Different than how it had been in the woods. There was life in this version of him, and it made y/n feel better. y/n took another step forward, not sure what to expect. 
Aaron watched y/n move forward. They were young. Younger than a normal person should have to deal with such stress and anxiety. He could see their apprehension even as they stepped close to him. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, y/n.” y/n did as he said feeling the authority in his presence even as he was in bed recovering. Of course, he wasn’t directing that toward them, just that that power was there in him. It didn’t surprise y/n that he was someone important in the FBI. y/n sat in the chair closest to Aaron so they could hear him better. y/n wasn’t sure how to act now. They wanted to say they were sorry about his wife. But that was too personal. y/n opted for just asking, “Are you feeling okay?” The words sounded hollow in the face of the pain he had experienced in his life. 
Hotch smiled slightly, seeing the struggle in y/n’s eyes. He was glad to see y/n. To really see them and know who they were given how they had kept him calm and feel safe a day ago. Once y/n was seated he replied, “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to take time. I wanted to see how you are doing actually.” y/n’s eyes widened slightly. Shone in the darkness of the room. Taken aback they said, “I’m… okay. I always end up being okay in the end.” Hotch nodded, seeing himself in y/n instantly. Another survivor of a difficult life. It was easy to compartmentalize, and he didn’t want that for them. Not this young. So he said again, “I hear you. But how are you, really feeling?” y/n took a deep breath and tried to suppress the emotions before saying in a shaky voice, “Tired, scared and I don’t know why.” Aaron nodded in understanding. He moved his hand toward y/n, not sure what his intentions were with that movement. Hotch replied, “You don’t have to think about it all right now. But don’t let it out with someone at some point it will eat you up. Do you think you can take this?” 
y/n knew that Aaron was asking about just life in general. How overwhelming it could be after something like this. They had dealt with these feelings before, not like this, but close enough for y/n to say, “Yes. I can bounce back.” Hotch knew that response too. The bounce back. He didn’t want to pressure y/n to seek help, he’d be a hypocrite for saying so, but he worried. This person had saved his life and he didn’t want to see them crumble for it. Hotch took a moment and said, “Thank you for being there for me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” Not really thinking he added, “You made me feel safe in that moment. I didn’t know if I was going to feel that again.” There was a long silence after his statement as they both absorbed his words. The quiet was punctuated by y/n’s quiet response of, “You’re welcome. I’m happy I could be that for you, Aaron.” y/n looked over at Hotch and could see there was something there. A bond, a name whisper on the wind, or a star. It was a flicker for just a moment and it was gone, but they had both felt it, some of the overwhelming feelings they both housed within. 
In another moment Aaron said, “I’ll let you go, but I’m sure Dave has given you his number, but tell him to give mine as well. I may not be at my best right now, but if you ever need anything y/n, anything, you can give me a call.” y/n nodded and stood wondering if the last they’d ever see of Aaron Hotchner, and was at least grateful for having crossed paths with him. They brushed their hands over his hand for a moment before smiling, saying “I hope you are well soon, Aaron,” leaving the room. Aaron watched as their figure moved outside and stopped to talk to Dave for a moment then disappeared. 
Rossi entered the room and asked, “Do you feel better now?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Yes. Did you give them my number?” Dave laughed and said, “Sure did, office and cell.” Aaron huffed but then said seriously, “y/n will need protection for a few weeks at least.” Rossi replied, “Already on it. Or Garcia is on it. Knowing her, y/n will be getting flowers and chocolate for life.” Hotch laughed at the truth in that statement and felt better. Yes is sucked, this sucked, and his body hurt like hell, but he was alive and things would get better. Aaron’s mind flickered back to his fight with Sean and he laid back on the bed with a groan. Dave watched and eventually, Hotch said with his eyes still closed, “Would you call Sean for me?” Rossi had Sean’s number in case of emergencies with Aaron, Jack, or Jessica. Rossi had everybody in the team's close family on that list. Dave couldn’t help but say, “Why do I have to call him, if you do will he throw his phone out the window or something?” Hotch scoffed and replied, “Just about, but I need to talk to him.” Rossi understood and took out his phone and dialed Aaron’s younger brother before handing the line over to Aaron. 
Aaron had something planned to say, but Sean beat him to it saying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You don’t deserve it.” Hotch let out a breath and replied as lightly as possible, “You bet I didn’t. But I want to apologize too. I got hot-headed…” Rossi motioned for Aaron to ask if he wanted him to leave the room or not. Aaron nodded his head no, and Dave settled in his chair. As Sean and Aaron spoke, and attempted in their own ways to make amends, Aaron knew that things would get better. There was family, be it Jack, Sean, or the team, and there were people out there willing to help. The image y/n smiling down at him filled him with a strange warmth, and he let the image and feeling linger as Sean went on about his day.
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ceoandslutler · 3 months
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a short analysis on the theme of kindness in kuro, in defence of the morally reprehensible protagonists. pt2
focused character analysis: ciel phantomhive (ours)
before getting into this, i highly recommend reading my last post which received a great response from @plague-of-insomnia (very much appreciated additions that i will be referring to), i wanted to do a part two to my analysis and i will likely do a post of sebastian too but for now it's ciel who i want to focus on and how he is 'different' to other humans.
firstly i would like to follow up the points i made about the blue memory arc
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our ciel wants to open a toy shop because of his own condition of being stuck at home with limited activities, he wants to make indoor toys. his brother says "nobles don't sell toys" and in this chapter it is alluded multiple times that he, as the second son, should have either become a 'vicar' or 'doctor' as they are respectable jobs, unlike being a toy maker/seller. another point is that o!ciel establishes here that he knows he can't be like the other members of the phantomhive bloodline (see: pt1 talking about undertaker's quote "he is unlike his predecessors"). back to the second son point, we already know how frustrating it is to be a second son:
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but o!ciel has not once shown himself to be jealous of his brother, nor was he frustrated that he couldn't be earl. in fact he constantly reassures his brother in the blue memory arc that he is like their father and he'll make a great earl. he also makes it clear he does not desire the popularity that comes with being a vicar. (we see the vicar in their land is a manager of affairs with a lot of power/responsibility/direct access to nobility and when seb takes on the vicar disguise, ciel makes it clear that he is a "popular" person, akin to a "celebrity"). roles of religious importance are shown as vain in kuro.
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it's interesting because the chapter we see the real vicar rathbone is the same chapter o!ciel says he wants to make toys and r!ciel says nobles don't do that and the murder arc where sebs is disguised as an alternate vicar rathbone is the same arc we find that o!ciel reads working class magazines because the consumers of his toys/funtom products are "common folk", he even reads punch!
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..that's it for vicars, those are the only two instances we see them mentioned. the doctors we see are different. we have madame red who became a killer and used her skills to kill prostitutes out of spite (edit: as well as viscount druitt who does have a medical licence and we saw him doing human trafficking although i forgot about him, thank god plague-of-insomnia reminded me lmao) but we have two other doctors characters that are very important.
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this nasty piece of work ^^ in the circus arc, very selfish and inhuman, uses VERY unethical methods to create prosthetics, morally bankrupt doctor similar to madame red
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this stoker guy who is also a doctor. selfish, doesn't understand what medicine he's even using on people, just generally a egotistical awful guy.
in both these arcs, we see o!ciel show humanity
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he's going to the workhouse baron kelvin supported and is going to recommend it to a philanthropist. although there was no workhouse, those children were likely already the doctor's victims.
in the campania, he not only goes back for lizzy, he is very considerate of a servant who not only tried to kill him with his snakes but also doesn't even call him by a formal title (snake called him 'smile' until the end, ciel never took offence to it despite being a noble)
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he not only shows this amount of consideration, he also gives up his seat in the boats which plague-of-insomnia mentioned when they rb-ed pt1 of this analysis. i genuinely think the way o!ciel treats snake is extremely perplexing, he is too considerate... perhaps guilt? perhaps the empathy he feels as he too lived a lonely and alienated life as compared to the rest of his family? he felt like his family did not tell him anything and just died/disappeared, leaving him to have to wait for the killers to come back for him just so he can get his self-righteous revenge.
finally i would like to point out a little tidbit, o!ciel generally does not seem to care at all about society's expectations. his relationship with his tenants and servants is abnormally humane. i would also like to point out his confusion at elizabeth's sobbing about being the scary kind of woman he doesn't like (something r!ciel had implied)
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this boy has never shown that kind of expression towards femininity or women... even when it sounds like he's being sexist, it's usually a poorly done translation, i don't know japanese well but before anyone pulls this up, i found the japanese raw to check over it myself:
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he did not say "ladies don't come in such monstrous heights", he said something more along the lines of "it's impossible/i can't stand to dance with a tall/big lady in this way"(?)
[please correct me if i'm wrong, i don't know japanese well and my forte is indo european languages]
the point of this analysis is not to say ciel is solely "good" or 'pure cinnamon roll uwu' (i would never), but just to say he is capable of humanity... in a story about horrible humans, he as a one of the morally grey main characters is capable of being a force for good. he's also pointed out to be different to others and shown to not contain the same bad aspects of the other pathways he could've gone in life e.g. vain vicar or diabolical doctor. he is at his core, a character who shows humanity and compassion and that is why he is likeable even when he does heinous things. he is more than an innocent baby and more than an evil aristocrat with zero morals. although the head honcho of this story is sebs but i will get into him in another post, he's also a VERY interesting protagonist.
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bellofthemeadow · 1 year
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Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.
OF COURSE MY DEAR ANON! I am so sorry it took forever to address this request! I have just started my final year of Uni, and with four seminars and graduate applications, I have not had any time to write consistently! But this idea was too enticing to pass up, so thank you very much for sharing it! For those waiting on other fics, I am slowly but surely getting back into the groove of writing more consistently so it should all come out sooner rather than later (hopefully) and I always welcome more fics or one shot ideas! Thank you to y'all for bearing with me, I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️
No warnings excpet for some violence (against Jason Carver so thats fine I think) and some heavy make out session
Word Count: 5.3K
Masterlist
Hit Me Baby One More Time
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You had gotten your first taste of popularity on your very first day of middle school, a couple of years ago. That entire week leading up to it had been filled with fear and stress about what people would think of you. Overwhelmed, you had spent the last few days of your summer agonizing over your outfit choice, turning your daily fashion show into a reluctant performance for your big brother, Steve. Despite his huffs and puffs, he had reassured you that everything would go smoothly, but you couldn't help to worry. Eventually, you ended up settling on a cute white dress that reached just above your knees, paired with a soft baby pink cardigan. You had hoped it would be enough to get some of the right kind of attention that Steve always talked about.
In hindsight, you realized that you might have been a tad dramatic as when lunchtime had rolled around, a group of girls had approached you, giggling with excitement. "Are you Steve Harrington's sister?" they had asked-whispered with bright envious eyes. You slowly nodded, and with elated giggles, they ushered you over to their table, where the popular crowd was hanging out. It turned out your brother had quite the reputation, and while you knew he was popular, you hadn't fully grasped the extent to which the name Harrington would impact your social life. For you, Steve was just the idiot older brother who used Farah Fawcet's hairspray to keep his dumb hair in place – But to everyone else, it seemed that Steve was a pretty big deal. So, you were, it seemed, a legacy, and the rest, as they say, was history. And that very day, you also ended up meeting your future best friend, Chrissy Cunningham, who you would grow to love with all your heart.
Five years had come and gone, and now, you were finally well-established into your senior year, ready to graduate in the spring. And while it was true that your older brother might have facilitated your initial entry into the realm of popularity, you had since etched out a distinctive name for yourself. As your brother moved on to new chapters in his life (namely an underpaid job at family video), your own journey through high school took a markedly different path. In fact, your popularity had continued to ascend, like a rising star in the night sky.
Though the Harrington name may have laid the foundation, you had meticulously built upon it, brick by brick. You had cultivated your own unique persona, and it had become a force to be reckoned with in the hallways of your school. No longer living in the shadow of your brother's glory days, you had emerged as a charismatic figure in your own right.
You had become The Harrington sibling who truly counted, especially after the dramatic showdown between Steve and Billy Hargrove during his own senior year. In the aftermath of that clash, your brother's social standing had taken a considerable hit, with much of his social credit being seized by the mullet-wearing bad-boy. The Harrington name, which had once been associated with Steve's swagger, now conjured images of a radiant, saccharine smile, cheerleading outfits, and a personality as pinky-sweet as bubblegum.
While Chrissy indisputably reigned as the queen of Hawkins High, some believed it was only because you had no desire to claim that throne—a belief rooted in truth as you had no interest of being the queen of anything, especially Hawkins High as beyond Chrissy, you harboured little affection for the other members of the popular clique. Whether it was Jason Carver and his cronies or the remainder of the cheer squad, you couldn't help but find them increasingly vapid.
Nestled at the popular table right in the heart of the bustling cafeteria, always donning Hawkins’ green cheer outfit, a nagging sensation of inauthenticity always clung to you. Hitching deep into your soul, making you feel like the fraud you’ve always believed yourself to be as although your elevated social status had smoothed your journey through high school, ensuring a constant stream of party invitations, a steadfast companion, and even a few favors from teachers who were drawn to your preppy smile and sunny disposition, it all felt like a facade, far removed from your true self.
You’ve always known how deep inside, there were facets of who you really were that you couldn't openly share with anyone but Chrissy. She alone knew of your profound love for fantasy and science fiction novels. Nothing brought you more joy than retreating home to dive headlong into the mystical realms crafted by H.P. Lovecraft or to lose yourself once more in the pages of your well-worn copy of "Frankenstein." Yet, these passions remained concealed beneath the veneer you projected: the princess of Hawkins High, painted in shades of pink, sweet, and deceptively perfect.
The idea of letting those hidden, nerdy passions of yours see the light of day felt like a risky bet, one that could potentially leave you feeling incredibly alone at Hawkins High. The thought of losing friends and having nowhere to sit during lunch was a constant source of worry. You had faith in Chrissy's unwavering support, regardless of your social standing, but you couldn't bear the idea of burdening her. She was just so kind, always forgiving even to those who didn't deserve it, and you didn't want to be the one responsible for pulling her down.
As a result, the decision to keep these aspects of your identity hidden weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like an unspoken loneliness, a sacrifice you were making to preserve the fragile balance of the life you'd carefully constructed in high school. Hawkins High had its own intricate ecosystem, and you were very much a part of it. Your place within that system was delicate, and you couldn't afford to disrupt it, fearing that it might set off a chain reaction that could destabilize everything. You had no intention of being the one to upset the frail high school biome of Hawkins High.
Now, however, your situation was far from ideal as you found yourself sandwiched between Carly and Tina during lunch, and today, they were even more exasperating than usual. There seemed to be some sort of fallout from Tina's last party, something involving a boy, and now the two girls communicated exclusively through snarky remarks, making the tension rise with every snip from either girl. A brewing headache was beginning to claw at your temples as you were waiting for the explosion to erupt sooner rather than later.
What was happening in front of you wasn’t any better as you were given a front-row seat to the somewhat uncomfortable sight of Jason Carver deeply engrossed in a passionate kiss with Chrissy. She appeared to be on the brink of embarrassment, her attempts to gently push Jason away carried out with shy reluctance. "Jason, please," she implored, her manicured hand finding its way to his chest, a plea in her eyes. "Not in front of everyone..."
In response, Jason merely rolled his eyes dismissively. "Come on, baby," he insisted, his voice low and unconcerned. "No one's even paying attention to us."
You couldn't help but scowl, unhappiness etching your delicate features as you watched the uncomfortable display unfold before you. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You cleared your throat and loudly exclaimed, "Hey, Chrissy?" All eyes turned to you, and you continued, "Do you think we could slip away from lunch a bit early to go over the routine we've been practicing for the upcoming game? I really want to make sure I've got it down perfectly before tonight's match."
Chrissy's sigh of relief was almost audible, and you could sense her gratitude. In contrast, Jason huffed unhappily, clearly irritated by the interruption. He muttered something about leaving you girls to your conversation before he got up and headed to chat with one of his buddies at the far end of the table.
You and Chrissy shared a quick, wordless girl-to-girl conversation. All the words you needed were conveyed through a bombastic side-eye from you and a subtle nod of your head toward Jason. Chrissy responded with a playful roll of her eyes and a slight shake of her shoulder, silently agreeing with your sentiment.
As your eyes shifted away from Chrissy, they unexpectedly locked onto the deep brown ones of Eddie Munson. Two distinct emotions surged from deep within you. One was a rush of excitement as the warmth of your crush enveloped you, causing your face to flush as red as a ripe apple under his gaze. But in an instant, that crush felt almost crushing when you realized that it wasn't you that Eddie was looking at, but rather Chrissy's high ponytail that had captured his attention.
Eddie and Chrissy. Chrissy and Eddie. ChrissyandEddie. It was an undeniable fact that the guy you had the most enormous crush on happened to be utterly smitten with your best friend. It felt almost tragically comical, if you were being honest with yourself. Throughout high school, countless guys had mustered the courage to ask you out, but you had dismissed them all without a second thought. Football jocks, band nerds, potheads, music fanatics – none of them could hold a candle to Eddie Munson in your eyes.From the very moment you first crossed paths with Eddie during your freshman year, your heart had been irreversibly, completely, and utterly captivated by the charismatic and outspoken boy. You were utterly unprepared for it, not like you were out there seeking Cupid's arrow to pierce your heart. You had simply been an unsuspecting victim of one of its whims, but the exquisite pain that followed was worth it. At least, you hoped so.
Thanks to Eddie's recurring attempts at redoing his senior year and your placement in advanced classes, your worlds intersected more than once. One particularly unforgettable encounter unfolded in Mrs. Allen's math class, where the teacher had a peculiar notion that pairing the class's worst student (Eddie) with its best (you) would somehow work magic. You were left a bit shy and entirely tongue-tied in his presence, but Eddie had an uncanny talent for leaning in close and delivering a barrage of side-splitting, utterly inappropriate observations about Mrs. Allen that left you snorting with laughter. For a glorious three months, Eddie was your math partner in crime, and during that time, you dared to believe that something more could evolve from your interactions. If only you could string together coherent sentences without tripping over your words.
However, as fate would have it, the teacher eventually grew tired of her seating arrangement, deciding it was high time to shake things up. This twist in your high school narrative resulted in you and Eddie being separated, an alteration you weren't particularly thrilled about. The new arrangement effectively put a damper on your burgeoning connection.
It was in the midst of this seating shuffle that Eddie tossed a rather loaded question your way, catching you off guard. "Your friend Chrissy," he began, as you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. "Is she still with that Carver douche?" Your gaze faltered as you met his, a nod escaping your lips as a wave of disappointment surged within you. Inwardly grappling with the sting of unspoken heartache, you found yourself clutching the hem of your cheer skirt almost desperately. Without another word, you retreated to your newly assigned seat, a sense of melancholy lingering like a shadow and bitter disappointment coating your tongue.
Even now, your gaze would involuntarily flicker to Eddie whenever you found yourself in the same room. Often, he'd be engrossed in conversations with his bandmates or his D&D group, leaving you on the outside looking in. It was a conflicting sensation, feeling his presence so near yet so far away. If only you could gather the nerve to strike up a conversation with him, but you hesitated. After all, you were the popular girl, the one who played by the rules, and good girls weren't supposed to mix with people like Eddie, no matter how much you desperately longed for it. Perhaps during math class today, you thought, you might find a plausible excuse to approach him. Maybe something as simple as asking about the homework or...
"And what the hell do you think you're staring at, Freak!?" The sudden hush that swept over the cafeteria was palpable as every head turned toward Jason, who had abandoned your table and was now striding purposefully toward the one where Eddie and his friends were seated. A chill coursed through your veins, causing your face to pale. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unfolding drama as Eddie rose from his seat. While he appeared outwardly confident, the telltale clenching and unclenching of his hand betrayed the nervousness bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to you that what he was displaying might just be a facade of bravado.
"Did you dribble that orange ball a few too many times, Carver?" Eddie sarcastically chimed in. His words hung in the air, an open challenge that seemed to stoke the flames of Jason's anger. In a fit of rage, Jason lunged forward, grabbing Eddie by the front of his well-worn jeans jacket. The cafeteria held its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in.
 A gasp escaped your lips, a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as the dramatic confrontation unfolded before your eyes. Abruptly, you shot up from your seat, causing Chrissy to turn around in surprise. She sent you an uncertain look as you started to stride toward the two boys. It was as if you were possessed by a force stronger than yourself, you couldn’t let whatever was happening continue – you had to do something!
"Don't try to bullshit me, freak!" Jason's voice reverberated through the cafeteria, anger and scorn dripping from his words. "I saw you looking at Chrissy. You think you can just lay your eyes on her, you freak? She isn't yours; you're nothing but trailer trash! Don't you ever dare to look at her again, alright? Or I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!" Jason was so close to Eddie's face that his spittle sprayed across the other boy's features. He shoved Eddie backward, and it was at that moment, as you were making your way between the mass of students that had clustered around Jason and Eddie that you felt a surge of red-hot anger like nothing you had ever felt before.
"Do I make myself clear, freak?" Jason continued, his voice dripping with malice. "Or do I need to send my boys to deal with you and your pathetic group of losers?" Eddie looked incensed, but he cowered under Jason's menacing threat.
"I...wasn't...looking," Eddie enunciated each word through gritted teeth, avoiding Jason's eyes. Jason burst into fake laughter, glancing around at the onlookers.
"Does the freak have a crush?" he taunted, his voice cruel and derisive. "That's hilarious. You honestly think you'd have a chance with Chrissy? Be realistic, freak. What is it now, twice repeating your senior year?" Eddie's face turned a deep shade of pink, shame washing over him as Jason's taunts struck at his insecurities. His shoulders sagged with each insult, and he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Everyone knows anyway that the only way a freak like you could ever get close to a girl is when you and your little cult of Satan practice some sacrifices," Jason continued, his words laced with venom. "I'm even surprised they let people like you in here. Everyone knows what kind of trash your dad was, it ain't surprising that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree…”
You pushed your way through the crowd, determination propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you strode purposefully toward the back of Jason. Eddie's surprised gaze locked onto you as you confidently approached them.
You extended your arm and lightly tapped Jason on the shoulder, effectively cutting off his rant mid-sentence. The abruptness of your action prompted Jason to whirl around to face you, his typically handsome features now contorted into a repulsive mask of anger. It was a stark contrast to the carefully cultivated "cool-guy" image he often projected. But deep down, you knew this enraged countenance was his true face, hidden behind the facade. In fight or flight mode, you recalled your brother Steve's advice about fighting, which you had stored away in your memory, "Sis," Steve's voice echoed in your mind, "when you throw a punch, put your entire body behind it."
And that's precisely what you did. With every ounce of your body weight, you thrust your fist forward directly into Jason's face. The cafeteria was filled with a sharp crack, echoing through the room, followed by a collective gasp from everyone present. An eerie silence descended upon the cafeteria.
Jason lay sprawled on the floor, a violent stream of blood gushing from his nose, while you clutched your hand close to your chest. Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. No one had ever warned you that hitting someone would hurt like an absolute nightmare! It ] wasn’t like that in the movies!
Your gaze landed on Eddie, and you noticed a peculiar expression take over the young metalhead’s face –  His brown gaze held something unfamiliar, a look you had never seen throughout the time you had been admiring him from afar. I was as though he were seeing you – like he was attempting to decipher the mechanics of your very being. It caught you off guard, this intensity in his stare, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.
“YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!” Jason roared from his sprawled position on the ground.
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Eddie, you redirected it toward the fallen boy who cut a rather pathetic figure at your feet. Curling your lip in disdain, you adopted your most haughty tone and huffed, "You, Jason Carver, are the problem here!"
Jason, still sprawled on the floor with a nosebleed, glared up at you, his anger palpable, "You little—"
Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a stern gesture. "Save it, Jason. You had this coming."
A stunned silence blanketed the cafeteria, every eye fixed on the unfolding confrontation. It was as if time had frozen, and the entire room held its breath in rapt attention as Hawkins' princess unleashed her verbal assault on the school's reigning king.
In that moment, you felt like you had the entire cafeteria in a chokehold, and you were determined not to let this opportunity slip away, not after what Jason had put Eddie through. Gathering your resolve, you continued, your voice dripping with disdain, "Do you honestly believe you can bully and belittle people just because they don't conform to your narrow definition of 'normal'? Well, I've had enough of your toxic attitude! You, my dear Jason, are the most insufferable idiot I've ever had the displeasure of encountering in my entire life! And I am done catering to whatever you and your dumb friends say!”
Jason struggled to get up, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. Turning back to Jason, you crossed your arms and delivered your final message with authority. "Consider this a warning, Jason. Mess with Eddie or anyone else again, and you'll have me to answer to."
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Principal Higgins' thunderous voice pierced through the otherwise eerily silent cafeteria. In an instant, your confidence evaporated, leaving you feeling pale and exposed. You were caught off guard, unable to process what to do or say.
Before you could even react, a familiar, warm hand firmly grabbed yours, yanking you along as they sprinted in the opposite direction, forcefully pushing people out of the way. It was a grip you knew well, and you didn't hesitate to follow Eddie as he practically dragged you toward the exit of the cafeteria.
The scene you left behind was nothing short of chaotic. The entire school stood in a collective stupor, mouths agape in disbelief. Jason Carver, his face an alarming shade of red, appeared on the brink of an aneurysm as he struggled to regain his composure. Principal Higgins, in his authoritative fury, barked orders at the bewildered students, demanding answers and an immediate end to the commotion.
As you reached the exit and the clamor of the cafeteria began to fade, you couldn't help but let out a giggle of exhilaration. Eddie continued to lead you, now behind the school building and into the dense woods that bordered the campus. The farther you ventured into the secluded forest, the more you appreciated the sudden escape from the madness. Eventually, Eddie brought you to a worn-out picnic table, the wood weathered by years of exposure to the elements. Eddie finally managed to catch his breath. He exhaled heavily and asked, "What the hell... hfff... was that?!"
You leaned against the picnic table, still catching your own breath, and grinned at Eddie. "That, Eddie, was me finally giving Jason Carver a taste of his own medicine. That douchebag had it coming!"
Eddie let out a loud surprised laugh while still trying to catch his breath, his eyes still wide from the unexpected turn of events. "Well, I've gotta say, sweetheart, that was quite the show back there. You really let him have it, you got a mean hook princess." A warm flush of pride swept over you as you soaked in Eddie's praises. How long had you waited to hear him say something like that—to acknowledge you and gaze at you as if you were the most wonderful girl in the world? It was a feeling you had been yearning for so long, and if you were to die right now, you would die happy!
Eddie's warm, chocolate-coloured gaze landed on you, and it felt as though it softly swept over every inch of your being. He spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "I don't think anyone was expecting Hawkins' princess to come to the defence of the 'freak.' You know they won't let you forget this, right? Why would you risk all that for little old me, Harrington?"
You let out a sigh, the weight of his inquisitive gaze pressing on you. As you closed your eyes briefly, you grappled with the emotions that had been swirling within you since the first time you had laid eyes on Eddie. A small smile crept onto your lips as you slowly opened your eyes, fixing them on the boy of your dreams. "You're worth it, Munson."
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, taking three steps closer to you. His large, warm hands, bearing tiny scars from playing the guitar, gently swept across your cheeks as he gazed intently into your eyes. "Do you mean that, Harrington? Because there's no going back if I kiss you right now—it's you and me, the princess and the 'freak.' You won’t climb back from that fall.”
You glanced at your right hand, the knuckles scraped and the skin raw, with a slight swelling on your wrist. "I think it's a little too late for that anyway," you sheepishly admitted. Eddie smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration, before gently taking your hand in his two larger ones. He slowly brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth, planting a soft kiss on each of them, causing your breath to hitch.
"Who knew that the princess of Hawkins High was Indiana’s future boxing champion," Eddie softly joked, his voice laced with affection. "I just feel bad for this pretty, soft hand – all bruised and battered to protect me, like the prettiest knight in pink armor coming to my rescue." You couldn't help but swoon at his words as Eddie continued to softly kiss your hand, his gaze slowly lifting to meet yours, his eyes filled with… Love? Tenderness? A girl could dream.
A warm smile curved across Eddie's lips, and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his in a searing kiss. As you both savored each other, Eddie's hand slowly wrapped around the base of your neck, holding you close to him. As you were trying not to faint from the sheer pleasure this moment was bringing you, a flash of remembrance rushed through you, snapping you back from your trance and causing you to break the kiss and catch your breath. You whispered softly against Eddie's lips, "What about Chrissy?"
Eddie nuzzled your face with his nose, his lips brushing lightly against your skin. "What about her?" he retorted playfully. "I mean... I thought... I thought you had a thing for her," you admitted meekly.
Eddie smirked against your cheek. "If I did, I wouldn't be kissing you right now, right?" His voice held a teasing edge as he continued to shower your neck with tender kisses.
You closed your eyes, feeling a mix of contradicting emotions – wanting to keep going to feel more of him, wishing him to stop playing with your heart because you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. "I mean it, Eddie... I don't want to be your second choice."
Eddie stopped his ministrations and returned to your face, holding your gaze with his. "You were always my first choice, Eddie," you confessed, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. "And I don't think I could handle being your backup plan."
Eddie's whispers were tender as he wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks. "Nononono, sweetheart. Don't cry, please," he implored softly. "You were always my first choice." His words held a reassuring sincerity that began to soothe your racing heart. But you wouldn’t be so easily swayed, as much as you loathed Jason Carver, you had witnessed first hand how Eddie seemed enraptured with Chrissy.
You huffed in disbelief, but Eddie insisted, urging you to meet his gaze. "No, it's true. Hey, look at me," he gently encouraged. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with a girl like you. You know, you're like my dream girl, right?" You gave him an uncertain look, still wrestling with your doubts. "You always stare at Chrissy, though. And you did ask me if she was still with Jason, remember?"
Eddie released your cheeks and took a step back, embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he used a piece of his shaggy hair to shield himself from you. "I wasn't looking at Chrissy. You're always with Chrissy, so I was looking at you," he admitted, his voice tinged with shyness. "And I only asked you that because I panicked. I was going to ask you out, but the guys had been teasing me for weeks, telling me I was too much of a coward to do it. I guess they were right because I chickened out."
As Eddie continued, his embarrassment grew, and he took another step back. He held the piece of hair in front of his face, as if to hide himself from you. "I've actually had a crush on you since last year," he confessed, his words shocking you.
"Are you joking?!" you blurted out, astonished.
He shook his head, his warm brown eyes holding your gaze. "Not at all, princess," he began with a soft smile. "It was last year. You were on your way back from cheer practice, and you were in a hurry, holding a huge backpack. It happened so fast that you didn't even realize a book had fallen out."
His eyes sparkled as he continued, his tone becoming more animated. "I saw it lying there, and curiosity got the best of me – I picked it up, and to my surprise, it was a copy of 'The Hobbit.’” He grinned as if sharing a secret. "I was planning to return it to you, honestly, but then, when I opened it, I saw that there was a bunch of notes in the margins." Eddie started grinning even more as he continued “All there in the margins, notes, thoughts, musings. It was like reading your mind with every turn of the page. Your insights, your emotions, your laughter, and even your frustrations were all there in the margins. I knew I had stumbled upon the most precious treasure in the universe – it was a private window into you."
Your breath hitched at his words, and as Eddie spoke, you felt a warmth spreading through you, "It felt like we were close," Eddie continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't put the book down. It was like having a conversation with you, even when you weren't around. I realized how much we had in common, how you saw the world, and it fascinated me.”
The thought that Eddie had held onto that copy of 'The Hobbit,' with your notes and thoughts, all this time was both surprising and heartwarming. Damn, he was perfect.
"Fuck, I sound so creepy," Eddie confessed, breaking your reverie. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.
But you weren’t creeped out, far from it. For the first time in your life, you felt completely understood by someone – inside and out. "No, Eddie," you whispered softly, your heart swelling with love. "You don't sound creepy at all. You sound... perfect." A sweet cocky grin got etched on Eddie’s lips “Perfect, eh?”
Getting overwhelmed by his stare, you tried to play it cool and diverted his question by teasingly asking, "So you’ve had a big fat crush on me for a while, right?"
Eddie chuckled, taking a step closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Don't get too high and mighty, princess," he said with a warm smile, his voice laced with adoration. "From the looks of it, you've got a pretty big crush on little old me too…"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling a delightful warmth in the pit of your stomach. "I can neither confirm nor deny that," you replied in a sing-song voice, your eyes never leaving his.
Eddie's smile deepened, his gaze filled with affection. With a tender touch, he placed his hands on your waist, and before you knew it, he had spun you around. You couldn't help but let out a joyful squeak as you twirled together in a sweet, romantic dance. As he gently lowered you back to the ground, his strong arms remained securely wrapped around your back, pulling you close.
In that intimate moment, it felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you entwined in each other's embrace. Your breaths synchronized, and you lost yourselves in each other's eyes, the unspoken promise of a beautiful future passing between you.
"Hey, Eddie," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with affection and longing.
Eddie's gaze softened even more, his eyes filled with tenderness as he held you close. "Yeah, princess?"
With a radiant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your heart singing with love. "I've got a big fat crush on you too."
A soft, contented sigh escaped Eddie's lips, and he held you even tighter as if he never wanted to let you go. "Good." And without another word, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Nothing ever tasted sweeter.
“You gonna be alright sitting with the freaks now?” “As long as I sit with you Eddie, I could not care less.”
The fallen princess and the freak," you thought contentedly, "that has the ringing of a love story for the ages.” And all it took was that punch you threw at Jason Carver's face for you and Eddie to find your way to each other.
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frankcastleonlyfans · 2 years
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part three of dad!daemon headcanon pleaseeee🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄, 𝐏𝐓𝟑:
pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader
author's note: last episode, aemond beat the shit out of baela and rhaena, and daemon didn't gave a single shit about his daughters being blooded and bruised. i thought i should rewrite that, specially because the day aemond lost his eye is a thing in our dad!daemon au. also, i'll make aemond a little bit ooc because he needs to be an asshole, AND, I changed the way aemond loses his eye.
reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!
warnings: mentions of animal cruelty, descriptions of children getting harmed, aemond is his own warning, children cussing, this headcanon is pure chaos so be prepared.
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· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
this takes places months before part 1.
Daemon hated Aemond.
At first you thought it was funny that a grown ass man had such hatred towards a little boy, but then, you saw it with your own eyes.
You and Daemon once watched the kids' dragon training lessons, and you noticed how Aemond's eyes squinted once your son commanded Araxes to dracarys.
So it started there. Your son had his own dragon — and so did your daughter — , and prince Aemond had none.
Daemon would always complain to you how Aemond was picking on Rhaegon during sword fighting training.
"He should be more violent, I don't want Rhaegon to let that prick hurt him."
"Now, you're the one who's picking battles with Alicent." You warned.
Aemond never liked the fact that Alyssa could watch their fighting training. She was a girl, and wasn't supposed to be there.
He couldn't hurt Rhaegon outside the training camp, so he discovered that it was easier to mess with the Targaryen girl.
When Alyssa found her pet cat beheaded under her covers on her blood stained bed, she left her shared room crying, not even answering to Helaena's questions.
She went to the boys’ chambers, where she found her brothers, and Jacaerys and Lucerys sleeping.
Alyssa woke them up and went downstairs to find their parents, hoping they could do something to punish Aemond for his actions. But unfortunately, they found the boy first.
"Cousin Alyssa! I see you’re crying... What's wrong? Didn't like my present?"
Alyssa ran to punch him in the face, but he punched her first.
It started a huge fight, where Rhaegon, Luke, Jace and Alyssa were against Aemond.
Aemond threatened to kill Luke and Alyssa, and Jace tried to stab him with a knife.
Aemond was the most gifted in body combat, so he quickly dodged the Velaryon boy's attack, and kicked him away.
Luke threw sand in Aemond's eyes while he held Rhaegon by the neck, and Jace threw Alyssa the knife.
"Take your fucking hand out of my brother!"
Alyssa wasted no time to cut Aemond's eye.
Aemond fell to the ground screaming, but it was too late when the guards finally came to his rescue.
"What's the meaning of this!?" Daemon stormed into the throne room where everyone was reunited.
"Alyssa! Rhaegon!" You cried out, taking your beated children in your arms.
"What did you do to them, you freak!?" Daemon hissed towards the sewed-eyed boy.
"You're seeing this, Viserys!?" Alicent yelled, "Where do you think your brother's children learned to bully our son?"
"His own brother bullies him!" Rhaegon pointed out.
Aegon was just as unbearable as his brother, but at least he wasted his time drinking instead of making your children's life a living hell.
"Aemond killed Alyssa's cat and punched her in the face!" Lucerys told his uncle, and Daemon groaned in anger.
"That bitch cut my eye!" Aemond uttered.
"You were suffocating my brother!" Alyssa remarked.
"That is enough!" King Viserys yelled, "I want you all to make up and forget this all happened."
"That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged permanently, my king." Alicent stated.
"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye. What would you have me do?"
"There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of Daemon's daughter eyes in return. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Alyssa Targaryen."
Your eyes opened wide in horror as your daughter ran out of your embrace to hide herself behind Daemon.
"You will do no such thing!" You warned the queen.
Ser Criston stayed in his position while Viserys warned, again, that the matter was finished.
Alicent took the dagger that the king carried around, and came towards the girl, that was still being protected by her father's body.
Daemon acted quickly and unsheathed Dark Sister, pointing the blade to the Queen. All the guards took off their swords.
"Father!" Alyssa cried out.
"Give one more step and both of us will die." Daemon warned, "I'll cut your throat open like a piece of ham, and the King shall have my head. I don't mind dying for my family, your Grace."
Alicent threw the dagger to the floor and left.
Daemon gave you an apologizing look after putting himself in such danger.
You both took care of your children’s wounds, and find out that Maegon stayed in his room after Rhaegon ordered him to.
You took the boys to their room with Rhaenyra and her kids, while Daemon took Alyssa to hers.
"You acted bravely tonight." Daemon whispered against your little girl's silver locks, and gave her forehead a kiss, "I'm proud of you, my little stormfire."
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heretherebedork · 6 months
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This entire scene is agony because half of it is about the truth (Do Han being gay) and half of it is a lie (Do Han 'tricking' A Jeong into marrying him) and the rest is about Ji Han's own pain that he's never faced or expressed because his coping skills suck.
Ji Han knows Do Han is gay now but he still doesn't know that A Jeong knows he's gay and so he's taking out this anger on Do Han about A Jeong's love not knowing it's entirely fake and that's the hardest part about this fight scene because the fight isn't about what it's about, it's about something that isn't actually happening but appears to be happening.
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See, the problem with this fight and the framing of it is that Ji Han is mostly angry because he thinks Do Han is lying to A Jeong who loves him. That's why he's so pissed and why Do Han can be framed as the villain in this moment.
Because this is about Ji Han and A Jeong.
But the truth is that Do Han isn't doing any of the things Ji Han accuses him of in most of the argument besides being the closet which isn't what Ji Han is truly angry about to an extent.
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I deeply appreciate that Do Han got to punch first despite his own guilt and issues because this man has spent most of his life hiding himself even from the brother he loves and now, the first time anyone in his life finds out he's gay, he gets called the Worst Person Imaginable. Sigh.
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Do Han was also young when their mother died so I'm not sure what he was going to tell Ji Han about where he was living or where Ji Han was living. I don't think Do Han had any control over that.
I admit, I bet he ran to New York without telling anyone. I accept that. Do Han is absolutely a coward when it comes to telling people things he expects to be judged for and so he does tend to just... not tell them. We've seen that a lot in the show. Do Han's fear of what other people will think is real.
And this where the knowledge of the viewer informs us of how wrong Ji Han is in his assumptions but also allows it to make sense that Ji Han would think the worst of that and the worst of everything in this moment.
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But, honestly, a lot of this is Ji Han putting his own trauma out in the air. He's got so many issues and he's never faced a single one and Do Han's own secrets have left this space between them that Ji Han tried to fill with pushing him to gain power and trying to find reason to involve Do Han more because he never knew why Do Han was distant... and now that he knows he's gonna go ahead and assume the worst because that's all he's got.
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Poor Do Han lived in a minefield that Ji Han will never understand and will never try to understand because Do Han's minefield is something so specific and so painful and he had to leave behind so, so much. And he didn't choose that, unlike Ji Han choosing to go for the power and the family connections.
(Also, I need a scene at some point where Do Han tells Ji Han their mother's death isn't his fault just because I don't think Do Han ever believed it was his fault.)
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And this is where the whole thing comes back to Ji Han's love for A Jeong and the fact that the viewer knows that A Jeong knows but Ji Han doesn't and that he won't because A Jeong isn't going to out Do Han and neither is Ji Han and so this misunderstanding is going to continue and get worse when Ji Han and A Jeong's romance becomes more public and Do Han is forced to face the press, his own fears and their actual romance and the fact that he does love them both.
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Honestly, Ji Han, you fell in love with A Jeong before you knew any of this so maybe take a look in the mirror.
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Oh the heartbreak and the fear and the pain and the way Do Han only knows part of the truth as well and this is just gonna hurt. How does he handle this? How does anyone? And then the fall out of everything, the fact that Ji Han and A Jeong are starting a romance while he's still supposed to be marrying her and if he doesn't marry her will end with another woman his grandfather chooses and forced to either lie or out himself?
All the anxiety he had finally escaped in his contract with A Jeong has come back with a vengeance.
Bonus gif: Do Han's collapse broke my heart.
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moanz111 · 1 year
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final round - choi san
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🥊 pairing: boxer/fighter!choi san x boxing coach!gn!reader
🥊 genre: angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, dystopian au
🥊 summary: surviving in a city of outlaws has never been easy, with your days filled with emptiness and fear, and your only comfort being the weekly boxing matches in an underground club. but when you accidentally meet san, promising you a new beginning, your whole world is about to turn upside down.
🥊 featuring: biker!hwa; biker!yeosang; boxing coach/manager!wooyoung; cowboy(????)!mingi; oc!jay
🥊 wc: 5.9 k
🥊 warnings/tags: english is not my native language so there can be mistakes; descriptions of fighting/injuries/bleeding; setting is inspired by ateez's lore and the outlaw album (it's not accurate, just took some details from it, terminology can be inaccurate); use of pet names (angel); reader has an older brother; jay (reader's friend) doesn't represent any real person; there can be inaccuracies about boxing (i tried my best); mentions of guns/shooting (no one is harmed!!); repressive government; mentions of loss of family members/friends; reader is a bartender too; descriptions of kissing; lmk if i've missed something
credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!
🥊 note: happy (late) birthday to one of my favourite artists and people, sannie!
after all, i decided to post this fic even though i'm on a break lmao i feel a little bit more comfortable with posting it now and am doing better! and also i just couldn't wait to share this with you so...
i had so much fun writing this and got so inspired by ateez's album that i just had to do something about it. i'm trying a different genre this time so i hope you enjoy reading it!!
also, i'm super awkward when writing kissing scenes, help.
any form of feedback is greatly appreciated so don't be shy to reblog with your thoughts, comment or send me an ask! it really means a lot to me and keeps me motivated!
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Sweat dripped down your forehead, tickling your chin and neck as you gripped tightly the ring ropes, lunging your body forward with excitement. Even though you’d never admit it out loud, the adrenaline running through your veins during the intense boxing matches you attended every weekend made you feel more alive than ever. The way the two boxers threw fierce punches at each other was not exactly abiding by the game’s rules but no one around you seemed to care or even notice. 
Living in a world where tomorrow might never come, these were the only moments you could be your most authentic self without the mask of acquiescence on. This world was sick, filled with horrors and demons, haunting you even in your dreams and watching your every step. However, this world was beautiful too, filled with secretly exchanged hopeful glances and little reasons to look up at the grey sky, praying better days would come. 
What you were doing right now - smiling, screaming, the sole act of feeling was illegal but the thrill that filled your body was something you were willing to risk your life for. You had made your decision a long time ago - the rules didn’t matter to you anymore. 
“A win for Black Serpent,” you heard the referee shout in an attempt to fight the hundreds of voices, drowning his own as the champion threw his red boxing gloves at the public. Blue and purple marks painted his features and his almost closed left eye was swollen but the triumphant grin plastered on his face told you, as usual, his injuries were not one of his problems. 
Such a show-off, you thought when your friend waved at you from the ring, flexing his biceps proudly. It wasn’t surprising to you that he won tonight’s match. During the few years you’d known Jay, you’d never seen him lose. Having been a professional competitor in the past, as he had told you when you first met, the underground club’s matches were his way to escape the harsh reality and remember the good old times. 
Plus, you’d seen the bags full of cash from bets after a successful night. After all, that was why you had become his “accomplice” or as he liked referring to you - his devil accountant. The job was simple enough and you didn’t mind the extra income - working as a bartender at the local bar came with its perks but with the money you made you could never possibly afford a place of your own, neither did it give you the comfort you could run away one day from this awful blackhole. So you gladly kept track of the bets for Jay’s matches and sometimes you even helped him train as you knew a thing or two about boxing yourself.
Tonight was no different. As you pushed your way through the crowd, collecting the bills, you saw a lot of familiar faces who greeted you warmly. At least some of them. Others - weren’t so friendly, swearing and even refusing to give you the money, overcome by anger after losing, but they knew better than to test you. No one wanted Jay’s wrath upon them. 
“I think you forgot about me, angel,” you heard a raspy voice behind you just as you were about to call it a day and go to the locker room where Jay was waiting for you. Turning around, you were, to say the least confused. The man before you wore a grey hoodie over his head, hiding his features, and matching sweatpants, looking nothing like the usual visitors of the fight club. He was tall but muscular - you could see it even though his baggy clothes left much to the imagination. His broad shoulders and confident stance told you he was much more than he led you to believe. Was he another competitor? 
Looking down at his stretched-out hand, you saw a few bills folded in his palm. A cat-like smirk formed on your lips. “Though night for you, huh?” “I don’t like voting in favour of my biggest competition,” the man laughed as you took the money, writing down the amount in your notebook. Jay was going to be pleased with tonight’s profit which meant another celebration for him and another babysitting gig for you. 
However, the stranger’s words made you wonder what exactly his intention was. If he was telling the truth, then why bother betting if Jay was his next match? With his face engulfed in shadows and mystery, his aura alone sent shivers down your spine, alarming you for danger. Taking a step away from the man, you folded your arms before your chest. “What is your deal?”
He tilted his head to one side, regarding you quietly like a predator about to chase his next prey. Closing the distance between you in a matter of seconds, he leaned down to your right ear, whispering softly, his breath hot against your neck, “You’ll find out soon, angel.”
Still in a daze after your encounter with the stranger, you watched him pull away from you, shooting you one last mischievous smirk before diving into the crowd. Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh. 
Trouble always found its way to you.
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The deafening sound of the morning alarm, signaling it was time for everyone to go to work, rang in your ears as you walked to the bar where you worked during the day. The sun was still hiding under the horizon and the sky was painted in a mix of deep blue, purple, and orange. The streets were empty without a single soul in sight except you and the black stray cat that accompanied you every day on your way. It brought you a sense of comfort - to have a small friend by your side in these lonely times of the day. 
Forming genuine connections with other human beings was almost impossible. There were many stories about heartless betrayals, travelling from person to person in this city of outlaws. Today’s friend could easily turn into tomorrow's enemy. However, right now this place was your everything and all you could do is learn how to survive. You’d heard of other faraway cities where people had it way worse than you did and were much more repressed by the titanic power of the Guardians. Sometimes you were even grateful you were surrounded by outcasts and criminals rather than a white sea of masks, pointing guns at your face. 
Here, the inhabitants had found their ways of rebelling right under the government's nose without being noticed and the bar you were currently opening was one of their favourite places to do it. You'd witnessed hundreds of pieces of intel being exchanged for contraband and hundreds of unfulfilled plans for the future dying under the dim yellow lights. Still, no one gave up. That was the only rule everyone followed wholeheartedly - better surrender and lose your life than give up your dreams and hopes and become a dead man walking.
Pushing your thoughts away, you braced yourself for yet another day during which you had to take on the role of the oblivious bartender. Your job was to keep your mouth shut and eyes closed so when you saw one of your regulars enter the building, looking suspiciously around, you almost laughed.
“Good morning, Mingi,” you greeted him leaning on the broom you were swiping the floor with to take a proper look at him. His cowboy boots and hat, the usual, now shabby, long brown coat and the chains dangling at his neck as he walked slowly towards you gave away that he was meeting someone important today. The tall and lean man oozed confidence and threat just by standing and you were glad you were on his good side. 
You'd met Mingi on your very first day as a bartender and quickly developed a soft spot for him. You weren't aware of exactly what he was doing except sitting around with you and being a menace to your boss but there were dozens of wanted posters around the city, including on the wall behind the countertop you mixed beverages on. The portrait drawing sure did him justice and you'd always been perplexed as to how the Guardians hadn't caught him yet. 
In your eyes Mingi was good-natured and considerate, always asking about your day and throwing a joke or two to make you smile but you'd seen his nasty side too. That was why when he pulled out his pistol from his holster belt and placed it on top of the bar as he sat down on his usual spot, you felt shivers run down your spine. 
“Don't worry, Y/N,” said Mingi, turning to look at you with a reassuring smile. If you got paid every time you heard him say this before destroying everything and everyone on his way, you would've been a millionaire. Sighing heavily, you walked over to him to stand behind the bar and took his pistol in your hands. Earning a surprised squeal from the man, you shook your head.
“You're the reason I'm not getting paid, cowboy. The amount of repairs we’ve made in a month is insane.”
“I'm sorry,” Mingi answered with a pout. Your boss wasn't going to be happy he came here again. You could only imagine the old man's smile as he put up these wanted posters. Hell, if he could turn in Mingi himself, he would be on cloud nine. “But be careful and don't shoot anyone.”
“You worry about yourself,” you sighed and pointed behind him. A young man was entering the bar, humming an unknown-to-you melody and carrying a bag over his shoulder. Sunglasses hid his eyes and a grin showed off his dimples. 
“You didn't tell me your friend was such a beauty, Mingi,” the man whistled, eyeing you from head to toe after he removed his glasses, placing them on top of his head. You felt heat burn up your cheeks and you found it hard to hold his intense stare. Now being able to properly look at his face, some sort of recognition passed through your mind but you couldn't wrap your head around where you'd seen him before. 
As the newcomer sat down next to Mingi, you couldn't stifle your laugh this time. They reminded you of a comedic duo from the comic books you used to read as a child, now long gone and turned into ashes, with the newcomer dressed casually in a black and white shirt, the fabric flowing around his body and a few buttons undone, showing his collarbones, and Mingi in his “official” attire with a serious look on his face and furrowed brows. 
“Don't even think of laying a finger on Y/N, Wooyoung,” warned Mingi as your friend took out a white envelope from his coat’s pockets, handing it to the other man. A silent look, holding thousands of words, was exchanged by them before Wooyoung swiftly hid it under his shirt. “We can talk comfortably here. They won't say anything.”
“My lips are sealed,” you made a motion as if you locked them with a key and threw it in Wooyoung’s direction, earning a loud laugh from him.
“I like them. We should recruit them.”
“Absolutely no,” Mingi sternly refused, scolding both of you with a  glance. “Let's talk business now.”
Mindlessly washing the shot glasses and polishing them, you listened to the two men’s conversation, pretending none of what they said was surely granting them a death sentence. The images they described with pretty words and empty promises filled your heart with longing for a distant land where everything you'd ever dreamt of was real. 
Where there existed other sounds - other than your heartbeat and the screeching alarm.
Where you could look up at the sky and see the stars - not the brown clouds of dust and pain.
Where emotions like sorrow and fear were replaced by joy and comfort. 
So you listened and listened until you'd memorised every single sentence, hoping to dream of this new world tonight.
“The others will call for us soon. We just need to wait for a sign,” said Wooyoung, getting up from his seat and stretching his limbs. “San has a match tomorrow so if- no…when he wins, we'll have enough money for the next mission.” 
A match?
A lightbulb lit up at the back of your mind as your memories took you to last night’s events. The stranger's words made much more sense than before and you were pretty sure you'd seen Wooyoung, lurking in the shadows and grinning after Jay’s final victorious blow. Keeping this information to yourself, you remained silent even when Wooyoung gave you a knowing look. 
“His opponent is pretty tough and so is his coach…,” he trailed off, playing with his silver earrings, shimmering under the first morning rays. 
“Good luck then. I'll see you in a week,” Mingi answered, shaking his accomplice’s hand as he too got up to leave. Glancing at you, he placed a few bills on the counter, way too many than needed. “For the special service today.”
“You don't have to-”
“And a bet for Black Serpent.”
“Jerk,” whined Wooyoung, rolling his eyes and earning another warning look from Mingi to whom you returned the pistol you took earlier. “I look forward to our little dance tomorrow, Y/N.”
Giving you a playful wink, Wooyoung took his bag and trailed after Mingi who was already striding to the exit, talking about manners and social norms which you found amusing.
At least, he didn't vandalise property today.
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“The underdog vs. the big champion, huh,” Jay hummed as he traced his finger over his opponent's name on the list, placed at the fight club’s entrance. The match was only a few hours away and unable to sleep from excitement, you'd dragged your friend to the ring to practice some extra time. You didn't know what kind of fighter San was but better be prepared than sorry later. The rumors about him going around in the underground club didn’t give you much information either - some said he was ruthless and vicious, others - just a showoff. One thing was sure though - he had an incredible win rate with his name at the top of the rank list at least once a month. 
“Isn't it a bit cocky to call yourself the big champion,” you teased Jay as you pushed him inside the locker room so he could change into his practice clothes. You noticed one other locker was closed and were curious who else would've come here at that time of the day. Only champions and their coaches were allowed in when there wasn't a match. 
“I know my worth, Y/N,” Jay sighed while rolling bandages over his wounded knuckles. The bruises from his last match were still visible on his body and you wondered if they ever healed. You also mentally noted he had cut his hair down to a buzzcut again. He was serious about tonight then. Not that you expected anything different. San was the only person who could challenge him for his title. “I'm not a loser.” 
“Sure, now get up. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Jay, cover-up,” you shouted while monitoring your friend’s warm-up match, feeling your nerves slowly getting to you. You weren't exactly surprised when you found out the other fighter in the club and Jay’s opponent was the stranger you’d met the other night and of course, Wooyoung was his cornerman and manager. 
San’s presence turned coaching Jay into a challenge, unlike any other time. His movements were practiced and calculated, his punches swift and precise. The white tank top he was wearing revealed his toned body and well-defined muscles and made you stare more than to your liking. His sharp features and handsome face mixed with his professionalism were a weapon San used well on the ring since you could see Jay was intimidated probably for the first time. Wooyoung’s annoyingly proud smile didn't help either.
Blood was dripping down San’s chin from a cut, gifted to him by Jay after one of his blows, and sweat formed on his forehead as he counterattacked, delivering a strong punch on your friend's face. Their match resembled a passionate and intimate dance that you weren't supposed to witness. Their pride and skills were on the line. 
“Parry, Jay,” you once again yelled and seconds later the final bell rang, putting an end to their spar before your friend could react, taking a painful hook from San. Getting up from your chair, you went up to the ring and handed Jay a water bottle which he splashed on his face with a groan. You praised yourself for taking your first aid kit before leaving your apartment. If he was so beaten up right now, you didn't want to imagine what both of them were going to look like by the end of the night.
“You sure know a lot about boxing, Y/N,” San said, breathing heavily as he took his gloves off, throwing them at Wooyoung. It was the first time he addressed you directly today and you were taken by surprise when he jumped off the ring, coming closer to you. His face was glistening and his brown eyes were burning with passion you'd never seen before. Sure, Jay enjoyed fighting but you knew it wasn't the same as it used to be for him. San, however, had the eagerness to learn and win as a newbie even though his skills made you believe he was as good as a coach. Maybe even better than most. “Where did you learn?”
“Let's say I'm very observant,” you answered quietly, trying to avert his attention away from you and the topic. Still, the sting in your heart, forming as memories flooded your mind reminded you of the past you were so willing to escape from. You could still smell the distinctive scent of your brother’s gloves. The thrill that came with each victory. The pain that filled your being after leaving your past life behind without looking back. What had even happened with your family and friends? Were they alive? Were they safe?
“I'd call this more than just “being observant”,” Wooyoung joined the conversation, pulling you out of your thoughts. He put his arm around your shoulders, squeezing them tightly and you whined. “We hit the jackpot, San.”
“What do you mean?” 
“We have an offer for you, Y/N.”
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The next few months after the official match between San and Jay passed in a daze for you. Someone had to pinch you. Hard.
Wooyoung, you’d realised, was a gambling addict. There wasn't any other logical explanation behind his behaviour. Whatever you did or said, he turned into a bet out of which only one of you could emerge as a winner.
So just like that, after that practice match, he and San had made a proposal that was too difficult to decline and simple enough to follow. If San won, you'd coach him for his next matches and join their small group of outlaws. As they told you - they needed someone competent on their side. If Jay won, you'd go on your way and forget about it. Not that this was possible. 
You would've lied if you’d said you had been surprised when San delivered the final victorious blow that night. Secretly, you had hoped for this turn of events not much to your friend’s liking. While you were patching up his wounded and bleeding face, whispering comforting words, your betraying heart was accelerating with your mind plagued by thoughts of San. 
Today was no different. As you watched San practice his kicks on a punching bag in the fight club, you caught yourself blushing at one of his particularly precise deliveries. Boxing is my thing, I guess, you thought when he halted his movements to drink some water and pulled his tank top over his head, showing off his toned body.
Moments like this were routine for you at this point - just both of you sitting in silence, only his heavy breathing audible - him practicing and you observing. San’s progress was outstanding and this left you jobless - he didn’t need your directions anymore that much. You didn't feel the need to fill the space with small talk or pointless conversations when you were with him and thought of him as someone who had always been part of your life.
Intimidating at first glance, San was, in reality, the kindest person you had ever met. He cared deeply about the people he loved, always making sure to put them first above everything else. He was also thoughtful and considerate - attentive to everyone’s needs and was always there when you needed him the most. San brought you comfort unlike anyone else and you told him things you hadn't even dared before. Your relationship was progressing fast - with a lot of skipped steps, blurring the line between friends and lovers but you didn't mind. Labels weren't needed for you to feel what you did towards him. Not when you had so few opportunities to be together.
You two often daydreamed about this new world he and his friends liked talking about. He wanted to stop fighting - hurting people was what he hated doing the most but their group needed the money desperately. There was no other choice for him but to sacrifice himself every day. San, instead, wanted to build a home for his loved ones and create a safe space for them where they could be together and where he could protect them.
“You can't protect everyone, San”, you had told him the day he shared his plans with you while both of you were sitting on the cold floor of the locker room, shoulder to shoulder. His proximity had your head spinning and you found it hard to focus on his words. San held your hands, tracing circles mindlessly on them, before bringing them to his lips.
“I have to do what I can, though. I can't just give up on any of you,” he had answered, whispering into your skin, goosebumps forming all over your body. Before that, you hadn't considered yourself that important to him and his words made your heart skip a few beats. 
“I know what it feels like…,” The lump in your throat and the painful memories of your family had tears forming in your eyes that you tried blinking away. No point in crying when you didn't have the power to change the past. San brought his big hands to your face, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, and you tried pulling away. The pity and guilt in his eyes were something you wanted to erase forever. 
“You can't just run away from your demons, Y/N. Sometimes you have to face them.”
So you had wept in his arms, telling him your life's story for the first time and he had brushed every fear, doubt, and pain away with his soft touches and gentle gaze. 
You had grown up in the Outlaw City’s outskirts, in a restricted area where the Guardians’ influence and presence weren't as noticeable. The people were happy - you remembered seeing children playing freely, people reading and drawing and creating with all their might without being disturbed. 
Your parents were ordinary people, working ordinary jobs and living an ordinary life. You and your older brother, however, were nothing like them. The fighting rebellious spirit was something you had no idea who passed down to both of you but you were grateful to whoever ancestor was responsible for it. 
You two always found ways to get into trouble - from stealing a guitar from one of the contraband gangs in the city to compose silly songs to your brother learning how to box only to enter underground tournaments to earn some extra income for your family. He had learned from the older kids a trick or two and you had made it your life's purpose to follow him around until he taught you too. 
You missed those days dearly. The mornings when you would spar together under the blazing sun for hours. The nights when you would go to the restricted area of the city to fight and then run back home with the money you'd made before someone else took it from you. Every day was a game of survival, but you were happy. You had your brother - your only pillar in this dark world.
Until one day everything changed. 
That day, the Guardians had come in groups to your city, taking every child or adult in their way, destroying every last piece of safety. You remembered your last moments with your family before they took them away. Your brother screaming at you to run, your father fighting the white-dressed Guardian, and your mother crying in fear. You had tried saving them but to no avail. At least, you didn't know if they had survived and there was no one you could ask. Five years had passed since. 
You found your new home in Outlaw City where everyone was a runaway like you and where no one would ask where you'd come from. Your only resolve was to pray that your family was safe and sound and that one day you would find them. This time you were more prepared than ever, you were ready to protect them at the price of anything. So as San wiped away your tears with his thumbs, you felt the heavy burden of your past lift itself from your shoulders. 
“I hate myself for leaving them every day, San,” you confess with a shaky voice, trying to calm yourself down. 
“The only thing you could do is survive, angel,” he whispered, putting his hands on your shoulders, and squeezing them. Looking at his bruised face, you reminded yourself that everyone here carried their own scars - both visible and invisible, and your heart hurt even more. “It was the same for me. I had to leave my family behind when I came here so I found a new one. Not that it’ll ever stop hurting any less. All eight of us are the same at heart. We all want the same thing.”
A new world to come, you thought and smiled, thinking of Mingi’s passionate speech from the last time you saw him at the bar. He had told you all about their plans and wanted you to be part of them. To join their found family. 
Now, returning to reality, you regarded San curiously and a little afraid as he came to stand in front of your chair, leaning down to place a kiss on top of your head. Blushing at the affection in his eyes, you cleared your throat, searching for the right words. A week had passed since this moment and none of you had said anything about it so you couldn't help but feel flustered at his every word and action towards you.
“How was I today, coach?” San chuckled, gently tracing the sides of your face with his fingertips, rough from the endless fighting. 
“Could be better,” you gave him your usual response, San grinning and showing his dimples. 
“I have to work harder. But maybe if you stared less...”
“And maybe if you paid less attention to me...”
“That's impossible,” San concluded, crouching down, placing his palms on top of your thighs, and you ran your hands through his messy dark locks. With glinting eyes, he excitedly added, “After tonight’s match some of the boys and I will have a meeting. They want you to come.”
“They?”
“I,” the seriousness in his voice made you let out a laugh and your stomach tightened with anticipation. You had only met Mingi and Wooyoung before with the rest of the boys surrounded by a mist of mystery, with only having heard stories about them. The fact that San was letting you get closer to the people he cherished the most didn't help your fluttering heart either.
“Can't wait.”
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San had dragged you out of the fight club and drove you to your apartment to freshen up before meeting the boys with his old van that, who knew how, still functioned. As he had told you while focused on the bumpy road ahead, the vehicle had turned into, both a prison and a temporary home for him and Wooyoung while they were on the run from the Guardians. Guilt washed over you when San described all of their sleepless nights, fighting the demons following them right behind even in their dreams while you were hiding between the four walls of the safety of your home. Mingi’s wanted posters, his constant cautiousness, and the silver pistol always attached to his hip made so much more sense now. 
Unfortunately, the Guardians had taken notice of them way too early into their secret operations against the government, and now as you were sitting in front of the boys - their features, illuminated by the dim lighting of the storage house you were in, your heart filled with hurt. In the few hours, you got to know Yeosang and Seonghwa, speeding through the highways every night in search of valuable intel and doing all they could to survive another day, your admiration grew with every next moment spent with them. 
Sitting on one of your favourite fluffy blankets on the floor in a circle, eating an improvised dinner consisting of cold chicken nuggets provided by Yeosang, you felt more at home than ever. Mingi and Wooyoung’s silly bickering and friendly teasing, Seonghwa’s warm welcome, Yeosang’s kind smile, and San’s calming presence next to you, filled you with joy, and for the first time in a while, you forgot about the outside world.
“It’s a pity the others couldn’t come today,” said Seonghwa with a sigh as he passed on to you the chocolate bar all of you were sharing. You hadn’t seen one in ages, nor tasted it. Yeosang had just shrugged indifferently earlier at your genuine surprise, telling you he could get one inside the city for you anytime you craved it. 
So now playing with the piece in your mouth, letting the sweetness tickle your taste buds, you hummed in agreement. The rest of the group had to stay undercover for a little longer before joining you. “They would’ve loved to meet you, Y/N.”
“They will,” San joined, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. Turning your head to look at him, you were met with his dark eyes, shimmering with a glow as if hundreds of stars were in them. You slowly found yourself being pulled by the gravity of his gaze, unable to look away. 
“Now, can you two not do this,” whined Wooyoung, earning a playful slap on his thigh from Seonghwa, followed by Mingi and Yeosang’s laughs. “I have to put up with you every day at the club. I’m going to start vomiting rainbows soon.”
“Get a life, Woo,” said Mingi, winking at you. Usually, you could fight back and tease Wooyoung but tonight, embarrassment washed over you after his words. “Leave the lovebirds alone.”
Just then, still holding your hand firmly, San pulled you up gently so now both of you were standing. “Then let’s get out of here.”
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The distant hooting of owls, coming deep from the woods, the light chilly late-night breeze, carrying the smell of pines, and San’s warm touch against your skin engulfed your senses, making your head spin. With your eyes closed, all you could do was trust the man as he guided you through the darkness around you. 
“Can I open my eyes,” you asked once again with your previous attempts to get a positive answer out of him being unsuccessful. His deep chuckle vibrated through your body, his hand letting go of yours. Longing for his touch again, you reached forward for him but only brushed through the air. 
“I’ve got you, angel,” San’s raspy voice now came from behind you and you felt him put his hands on your shoulders. “You can open them now.”
The view before your eyes made you tear up and a lump formed in your throat, every word you wanted to utter getting caught up in it. The little fireflies, swinging around in a slow dance around you, their comforting glow, reminding you of those you used to catch in the hot summer nights in front of your childhood house with your brother, the vast field you were standing in the middle of, and the tickling in your legs from the overgrown grass were all images and sensations you thought you’d never see or feel again for the rest of your life.
“How did you find this place,” you whispered, too afraid someone would take this moment away from you. 
“It’s my special place. I think the Guardians have forgotten about it,” said softly San, moving to stand in front of you with a warm smile on his face. “Now I can finally share it with someone else.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Yes, whenever I need to clear my head,” he trailed off, laughing. “And some time away from Wooyoung. The van can be suffocating as much as I enjoy living with him.”
You wondered if this beautiful place was next on the Guardian’s list for destruction. If you’d be able to come back ever again. If it too would disappear with every trace you’d left.
“You’re frowning again,” San’s voice pulled you out of your trance, making you focus on him instead. His face was almost indiscernible in the night, but his eyes and the silver chain, shining around his neck, were illuminated by the moonlight. “You do this often.”
“I guess I’m not used to things like this.” Genuine in a world full of lies. “I feel like you’ll disappear.”
Taking a step closer to you, San put a finger under your chin, your eyes finding his once again. The electrifying feeling of his touch made you dizzy. Now, you could hear his steady heartbeat, with yours drumming in your ears. “I’ll never leave you, angel.”
The moment his lips found yours, enveloping them in a soft kiss, you lost all of your senses and surrendered yourself to him. At first, his touch was gentle as if San was afraid he would hurt you, but once your hands found his neck, your fingers toying with his hair, he got more desperate for you. His own trailed slowly down the sides of your body, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Already out of breath, you felt a fire ignite in your soul that only San could put out. 
He left your lips only to place a few shy kisses down your neck, your heart picking up its rate, slamming against your ribcage. Leaving you gasping and wanting more, San pulled away seconds later, the love and adoration you saw in his eyes making you lose your bearings completely. Cupping your cheeks and bringing his face closer, he rubbed your nose gently with his before placing a kiss on your forehead. 
“The final round is coming soon, Y/N,” he murmured when you closed the distance between you, hugging him around his waist and burrowing your face at the crook of his neck. You took in his scent - woody and musky, hypnotizing you. “We’ll see the new world together.”
Even if that was just an empty promise and even if this new world never came to life, you didn’t care.
All you needed was San there with you - everything else was bearable.
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final round, © moanz111
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fun-k-board · 1 year
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TMNT : Mutant Mayhem X Gender Neutral Reader dating headcanons
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Note(s): 2003 has me in a chokehold so I might accidentally mix their personalities, also you can probably tell who my favourite turtle is 💀
I've only seen this movie once, and I can't afford to go to the cinema again so I'm sorry that I didn't write a lot!
Leonardo
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Leo basically has a full time job of trying to impress you, one time he even tried to drive a car and do tricks for you. It, unsurprisingly, went so bad that Splinter grounded him for a week.
While Splinter has always dug in that humans were dangerous and hateful, which is semi true, meeting April and you have diluted Leonardo's faith in that. He realises that you're just... People. People who make mistakes, who need to change, and who largely, have changed.
He likes learning about things you take for granted everyday, what was school like? Have you ever been to a restaurant? Do you like going outside a lot? Do you have a pet? Etc, etc.
Leo needs to try really hard in school because he's not naturally talented in science or math like Donatello, so he appreciates any help you can give him! He surprisingly likes homework, he views it like training, sort of like something to improve his skills.
He 100% searches a 'how to flirt' wikihow and gets absolutely slammed by his brothers for trying some of the worst pickup lines in history on you.
Leonardo wants to train you with self defense skills if you don't know any already, he puts on the training videos that Splinter used to learn himself and teach Leo and his brothers, so that you two can at least spend time by training together.
Raphael
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Despite loving violence and fighting, he's always happy and his rage is never directed at you, he even tries to get you to let out your anger by training sometimes.
If you don't know how to fight, or don't want to learn, then he's perfectly fine with just giving you one of his sais and letting you stab a punching bag with it, or something.
Raph occasionally gets into more friendly fights and sparring matches with his brothers or classmates, he's always bragging to you about how cool he was and how awesome it was to fight.
He likes it when you initiate hugs or hand holding, it's not that he's embarrassed or doesn't want to initiate affection, or even have it at all, but Raph isn't the best at guessing what you want without outright asking. Which he does do a lot, but he feels awkward constantly asking for a hug, and he lets you know that he's always up for one.
Raphael doesn't want you in danger, but he does 100% egg you on to participate in fights and pull some chaos, even if minuscule.
Donatello
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He's a complete dork and LOVES to try and impress you with knowledge on your favourite musical artists, TV shows and movies, etc, etc. Donnie gets super into anything you're into, and he even tries to subtly get you interested in things like K-pop or science, if you're not interested in them already.
Always rants about his interests, he could go on for HOURS about the hidden messages in a music video, especially when he can get out more often and speak to more people about what he likes.
He's so curious about humans and their biological functions, don't be weird not like that, he always used to watch documentaries to Splinter and his brothers confusion.
Donnie frequently imagines what life would be like without a shell, with his skin a different texture, with his ears all weird and sticking out, he constantly asks you questions about living as a human.
He adores it if you know a lot about biology, especially if you know about turtle biology, even if he and his brothers are different than regular turtles for obvious reasons.
Donnie loves holding your hand, whenever he's nervous, or if you're nervous, he likes squeezing your hand and just holding it for a while. Even if it's kind of awkward because of his three fingers.
Michelangelo
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Mikey loves showing off his ninja skills to you. Oh, you're just watching a movie? Watch him do the stunt from that one scene about fifty times.
He doesn't have much of a 'taste' in movies or music, he just sort of watches whatever captures his interest. His most watched media consists of an intense crime documentary and Pingu.
Mikey loves hugging you, no matter what you're doing he just (⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠) His favourite way of hugging you is from behind, because then you can do whatever you want and he isn't bothering you, but he also gets to give you a hug.
As the youngest sibling, Michelangelo loves getting you involved in pranks that involve screwing over his brothers. He will beg you, BEG YOU, to let him stand on your shoulders to place a bucket of water on top of a door, to help him dye his brothers masks the wrong colours, basically anything!
He loves making friends and would like to meet your friends and family, that is if you have any or have a good relationship with them, and if you do, he's trying to impress them so he can in turn impress you.
He also expects you to get along with his family, you don't need to constantly hang out with them, but he likes to have the knowledge that his family accepts and trusts you, he also likes to have the knowledge that you trust his family.
While not being the most perfect and strong guy, he has full respect for you and he shows it in semi unconventional ways. Mikey constantly likes to play video games with you, and while he's never been able to play the newest or most expensive, he may or may not steal a game or two just for you.
If you have a console, PC or even just a god damn phone that can handle a decent game, expect you two to play for HOURS.
What shows both his family and you that he does truly love you is when he gives you a slice of his pizza, if you're vegan or allergic to his favourite flavour, he'll order what you can eat instead of what he wants.
His brothers genuinely have a full hour of just staring in shock at you and him when that happens.
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azi-sings-calliope · 1 year
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The Sandman female characters - why are they buried?
I'm gonna make a series of my thoughts on the female Sandman characters, both critiques of how they're treated and appreciation posts for them. (These are just my opinions, everyone is entitled to their own) Hope you enjoy!
Also tagging @thesandwomen because I'm also very curious to hear your takes on her.
Part 1: Rose Walker
As a character, she gets an obscene amount of hate. Even her actress was bullied terribly when the show came out (which is a whole other issue).
The thing with Rose Walker is that she's strong, complex, powerful, but not in necessarily always visible ways.
She's making her own way in life, traumatized but loving, ambitious and creative. Her inner dialogue and workings is complex and tragic but not in always... I guess cinematic or traditional ways.
She shows the realistic side of someone, specifically someone growing up through tragedy.
She's endlessly creative but she's cursed as this Vortex which destroys and she can't escape that, unless she dies. While she's going through all this she's dragged for not being more dynamic or charismatic.
I found Rose Walkers character to be awfully realistic, because in my eyes, a way of interpreting her story is that one of a young woman, growing up, promising and creative, has been pushed down by society and other people's actions against her. She's creative, loving, ambitious, searching for her brother and making a life for herself. But then she's pulled down into this Vortex, this series of awful and inexplicable events where things are happening around her, she knows she's causing it, and she can't stop it, and the only way to solve it is to die and leave a life she has fought for so hard.
Strange people are telling her what to do, she doesn't understand it entirely, but she does it to the best of her ability. She pushes back at them (Dream and the Corinthian) at times, because what else can she do?
In the end, she ends up with one of her last living relatives dying in front of her and realizing there was no other way for it to turn out. And she's hated, because throughout these events, she isn't entertaining enough.
I'm not someone best suited to talk on the racism that undoubtedly impacted how the fandom impacted the character, but it's worth noting that racism certainly played a role.
Rose Walker shows the sides of a character, specifically a young, strong woman character that I feel like isn't often marketed.
Some of those who claim "girl power" dislike her because she isn't what they're used to seeing. I'm not claiming that she's revolutionary, I'm saying that she IS that type of character, portrayed perhaps more realistically.
She is powerful but she's not cocky and smiley and she won't punch you in the face. Female characters are only perhaps worth paying attention to if they have any qualities that are surface level beneficial or amusing to the audience.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that Rose Walker is disliked because she's realistic, she has no amusing qualities.
Female characters often have stock marketable traits, such as humour, physical strength, or maybe magical. It's almost as if they're being paraded around, but not as a celebration but as a freak show. These are fake empowerment characters, and I feel like a lot of the basis for initial main female characters in big media pieces was written like this.
Rose Walker has marketable traits, but mixed in there are the real thoughts of a young woman, panicked and trapped and loving, and deeply honest. And it's honesty people don't like.
A young woman's struggle isn't fun to watch, it's not funny, there's no action, it's realistic.
I'm not trying to call her the female character of all time, I'm just trying to articulate my thoughts.
Rose Walker can make people uncomfortable. A female character not being pushed into the box of marketable, but real.
I think it's telling that we as a fandom dismissed her because of her lack of marketable qualities, because if you look deeper into the character, there's so much more.
Anyway, I hope this didn't come off as too rant-y, and thanks for reading!
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kadextra · 9 months
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q!Forever & q!Bad, comedy and tragedy are two sides of the same coin
(little meta rp analysis & appreciation)
Comedy and tragedy- complimentary concepts when it comes to the dynamic that is these two characters.
Their lore together is truly like a soap opera to me in the way it operates, entertaining in how goofy it is- I laughed so much during interrodate. They had a whole elaborate musical prank war over a stolen gun (which neither of them even had, they’re just too dedicated to the bit.) The first thing they say to each other after q!Forever returns from the nether is “You look terrible!” 💀 and my guy gifted a bloody chainsaw as the flower of the day to q!Bad in purgatory 1 which was happily accepted.
Even when the characters show attraction for each other, it’s usually through some ridiculous romcom thing. q!Forever is in love with q!Bad dressed as pink barbie and thinks photos of her are the best gift a person could ever receive?? 🤨 q!Bad daydreams about q!Forever as a lobster with blonde hair and a six-pack??? brother be projecting him onto larry the lobster from spongebob squarepants dude what is wrong with them 😭 sometimes I wonder how they’re able to do all these bits in improv and take it seriously, it’s impressive
The characters are not normal, their relationship is not normal, it cannot be viewed normally. the ccs know exactly what they’re doing in creating whatever *gestures* this is, and it’s amazing. over the top, cute, played perfectly for comedy
But the characters aren’t just that, you can’t have them without the inverse 🎭 like a punch to the gut after all the sillies, they really know how to do tragedy well.
I very much look forward to whenever they’re at the top of their angst game, bc they both LOVE to make their cubitos suffer. to an insane degree. My god these two can’t go 3 days with their characters experiencing some peace and joyful whimsy, they *must* rp their ocs actively dying, horribly diseased, going crazy
And they go hard with it. I’m very serious when I say multiple times during the lore I’ve had to get up and walk away to calm down because it was too intense. super special shoutout to the q!Forever first happy pills arc stream & October 1st q!Bad psychotic breakdown stream. I’ve never been so shocked as I was watching those live, the stamina to do highly emotional rp like that is actually nuts. some of the most angsty mfs on this server fr (the #1 spot goes to quackity though. hey maybe i’ll make a tierlist)
So when Bad & Forever bring the best of their angst ability into serious rp interactions together that Aren’t comedic…? we are in for a treat. that talk they had right when q!cellbit died to the code, the richas rescue mission, the election, voting arguments, post-ron kidnapping, colorblind test/therapy, flower of the day. many scenes that are seared into my mind, but none is more so than The Happy Pills Proposal. goosebumps whenever I think about it… the scene ever. the way it was framed, the lines they said, how it had tense, chilling buildup before a literal explosion. how are these people capable of doing the most silly things and then turning around to stab us in the heart 50 times
So you bet I’m crossing my fingers for a meeting between @v@ & q!Bad. Forever is absolutely killing the role so far. If q!Bad gets involved I can already taste the glorious angst…. since he has specific traumatic experience in also being possessed, & having killed his possessed friends in another life. he recalled the memory when talking about how to save q!Forever last night. fun! *shaking*
anyways that’s all :D love these characters, I had been wanting to do a little meta appreciation post for a while so I thought why not now ^^
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oh-no-its-bird · 3 months
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Spinning around in a chair consumed with thoughts about the magical girl Izuna AU, specifically about what cool patron gods the others could use as sponsors if they got hit with the magical girl beam. + What would happen after the 'season 1' phase of the story
So, Susanoo, little brother of Amaterasu, hears that Kaguya has gotten free.
He decides that yk what? Time to fuck with the big sister. Kaguya got sealed away for reasons anyways, so why shouldn't he at least make jokes about putting her back where she came from?
Meanwhile Amaterasu is busy yelling at Kaguya for hours then making out with her for even longer as Izuna stares in horror. (Tobirama does not give a shit, he got both of his brothers back at this point and could not be happier. As far as he considers, he's retired. His contract with Kaguya is half broken right now anyways)
So now lets fully shift gears away from Tobirama and Izuna's seeming end of the adventure, and turn to Madara's POV
So Susanoo finds Madara, whos a) compatible with his power via being one of Amaterasu's children. And b) The reincarnation of one of the original guys who sealed Kaguya away.
Perfect match!!
idk how he convinces him to help exactly, maybe Susanoo spins a bit of a story, maybe he pokes at and reawakens the parts of his soul with a grudge against Kaguya, maybe he, like Kaguya, offers him a wish-- Im undecided.
Long story short though, magical girl Madara with Susanoo as his sponsor
Somehow Hashirama finds out, and not one to leave his best friend to his task alone, now gets to join him in the adventure as the powerless backup!! Im such a sucker for that trope.
Susanoo does spend an especially long time squinting at Hashirama before saying something about he has surprisingly strong ties to the earth. Strong enough that he might be able to actually handle a contract with some sort of nature kami -- but only if he can find one willing to offer him their power.
Shrine maiden Mito makes a come back to help back them both up with some cool priest magic. Her ancestor helped to seal Kaguya away with Hashirama and Madara's past incarnation, and theres little clues that can help piece together their past lives and powers littered around her family shrine.
The story dives a bit into Madara and Hashirama learning about their past life. Before, they were able to avoid the karma (good and bad) theyd earned in that life via being ignorant to it. But now that they not only know about their past lives but have now interacted with the gods again (thanks Susanoo, really) they're getting regularly harassed by spirits and minor gods for an array of reasons. Past crimes, bets they lost and deals they forgot or werent able to fuffil,
Thanks Susanoo, really. Really.
So anyways, Susanoo kind of forgot the original reason he contracted Madara (he just got distracted having too much fun watch him be harassed by spirits)
But one day Tobirama shows up in costume while Madara is struggling, figuring hed help.
(Its important to note that just like before, unless you see the magical girl transformation in real time with your own two eyes, they're all prevented from recognizing/remembering each others faces when in costume. )
Susanoo is like "OH FUCK RIGHT!!" and starts yelling at Madara to like fuffill his destiny and punch out this guys lights
Madara is like ???? he helped me tho ???? but Susanoo points at the big glowing "I only gave you this contract so you could fight Kaguya and if you pull out now Ill leave you alone without the powers to fight off all these spirits who keep trying to eat you" sign
And Madara is like fuck and just goes for it
Tobirama does not appreciate his help being returned like this.
Quick interlude about Tobirama's situation:
So, last time we saw him, Tobirama was risking a full transformation into a moon monster. So why is he seemingly ok using Kaguya's powers now?
The answer is that its because hes stopped giving out contracts on Kaguya's behalf. He can handle Kaguya's power, just in small amounts. Though it still does sometimes cause some discomfort. At his lowest point he was basically acting like a battery for all the power Kaguya couldnt hold bc of how she was sealed. There was way too much power there for any mortal to hold, its honestly a miracle he survied. But now Kaguya is fully free and Tobirama barley even uses her power. (Why would he? He got what he wanted from it, his brothers)
He still has the contract with her because keeping it in place is what keeps his brothers alive. He cant break that without killing his brothers too, but he doesnt mind. Kaguya isnt that bad-- Even tho having Kaguya around means Amaterasu (and thus Izuna) is around too.
Anyways, Tobirama at his strongest is stronger than Izuna (he did kind of win that final battle in releasing Kaguya), but also risks going insane and or exploding from the weight of Kaguya's power. Even if he recovers after, the more times he uses that kind of power, even once, the more he risks long term damage. He now purposefully only uses power in small amounts to avoid that risk. Take that as you will
Alright back to the story;
So. Tobirama and Madara are fighting now. Madara does not want to fight but Susanoo is pretty much blackmailing him at this point and also cheering on loudly from the inside of Madara's head.
Tobirama meanwhile is very down to kick the ass of the apparent jackass who decided to take a swing at him after he went well out of his way to help him out. Also at this point hes a lot more experienced than Madara when it comes to fighting other magical girls, so.
Yeah. Madara gets his ass beat. Not too bad, but like, enough.
He kind of thinks he deserved it too, hes really embarrassed about it. He has MANNERS. Hed never DO this to someone who just fucking SAVED him. And they're the first other actual fr magical girl hes ever met !!!
Madara has his head in his hands in fucking agony rn, Susanoo why would you DO THIS TO HIM???
Tobirama stomps off to go tell Izuna about a seemingly weirdly prone to violence magical girl in town (Izuna, when told that Madara punched Tobirama in the face out of nowhere, quietly mumbles *damn I wish that were me.* Then gets his ponytail yanked on angrily)
(Amaterasu and Kaguya are actually mildly concerned, if only bc another magical girl = another kami physically present in town)
Madara slinks home to tell Hashirama the bad news about possibly having just made an enemy out of whatever community of magical girls apparently exists in town (and its to note that neither of them actually realized they were AROUND)
And then Susanoo drops the "oh yeah that guy was contracted by Kaguya btw so like youre going to either have to kill him or go through him and seal his deity if u wanna fulfill our deal ;)"
Madara: *agonized noises*
Well! At least the moon rabbit contractor isnt someone Madara and Hashirama actually know! Haha thatd suck. That would really, really suck.
So, with Madara's karma pulling in all sorts of spirits, minor gods and monsters to town, we return back to that 'villain/monster of the week' schedule
Meanwhile Izuna and Tobirama are getting pissed at whatever the fuck is attracting all these spookies into town. They thought they were going to get to be retired!!! What the fuck is this!!!!!! Somehow they're able to figure out all these monsters are being attracted by the pull of the new magical girl in town, who keep trying to start shit with Tobirama for seemingly no reason.
In one of those fun 'oh no my friend is in trouble and its all on me to save him!!!' moments, Hashirama manages to find and convince some earth kami to contract with him and join Madara in his fight. He cant just let Madara fight alone! And it may mean inviting the bad karma of his past life to haunt him, but so what? Hed do anything to help out his friend!
(and now there are TWO magnets for spirits gods and monsters to attract them into town, oops)
SO THEN !! With another fun funky turn in the story we enter an arc thats basically the most painful series of miscommunications and secret identities ever. Where Madara, Hashirama and Mito team up to fight against Tobirama and Izuna.
Only none of them realize who the fuck the other is.
Oh ?? Whats that ???? You thought I forgot about Touka and Hikaku?????? WRONG
While Madara and Hashirama fight with Izuna and Tobirama, shrine maiden Mito finds herself faced with two seemingly normal people, just like her. Only not exactly.
Hikaku is still armed with that kendo sword blessed by Amaterasu from the last final battle between Izuna and Tobirama, and now hes had plenty of time to learn how to use it. Sun sword time !!!
Meanwhile Touka has been practicing balancing more of Kaguya's power via a contract through Tobirama. With time, effort, and Tobirama's help, shes able to do some like cool partial transformation into a moon-monster or smthn. Maybe she gets a cool glowy arm?? I really dont know but something like that
I'm actually really into how they continue to contrast eachother. Like, Hikaku's sword contains the purifying light of Amaterasu's sun, which is what's used to chase out Kaguya's power. And Touka is filled with that same barley managed corruptive power of Kaguya's. It's neat! It'd also make sense from a tactical standpoint to pair them up together to fight. If the power gets to be too much for Touka and she starts to loose herself, Hikaku can give her a whack and hopefully help bring her back to reality.
Anyways, while the magical girls cant recognize eachother or be recognized, and Mito might have some fun seal to use to hide her own identity in a similar way, Hikaku and Touka dont!
Maybe they go into the fight without disguising themselves as like an accidental oversight on their part (too used to the protections Tobirama and Izuna have to consider themselves) or maybe they use basic masks, I dunno
Either way, trying to disguise themselves or no, I dont think Madara and Hashirama will fail to recognize their cousins.
Queue another "oh god I know their secret identity but they dont know mine and its !! someone !!! I know !!!!!!!" (can you tell I like this kind of agony because I do)
Well. At least the magical girls arent people they know !!! hahahahahahha. Yeah.
Back to Tobirama and Izuna's POV;
So, you might have realized it by now. But Tobirama's contract with Kaguya is what keeps his brothers alive. In other words, if Kaguya is sealed again, they will instantly die!
Yeah !!! So theres that !!!!
Even if Tobirama and Izuna werent friends, which they kind of are now (and maybe they should also kiss that would be neat) Even if Amaterasu wasnt really pissed and constantly yelling about the gall of some upstart nobodies coming into HER town and putting HER girlfriend back into the moon. Even if Izuna hadn't been interacting a bit more with the revived senju brothers--
Well, Izuna would still be helping Tobirama here. Hes not going to just let Itama and Kwarama die.
So yeah, safe to say that these guys are motivated and out for blood.
Good news Susanoo, you no longer have to worry about goading Madara into attacking first!! Izuna and Tobirama are out for his fucking head!!!
Anyways; No matter how it ends I dont think Susanoo especially actually cares about sealing Kaguya away fr. He really just came to fuck with Amaterasu, and then stayed to watch Madara flail as hes harassed by his past lifes karma.
because I dont want to see Kawarama and Itama fucking dead, Im gonna say Izuna and Tobirama will probably win this one around. Susanoo grumbles about loosing but then Amaterasu spots him and starts screaming directly into his ear
There is however a very fun ending out there where Madara and Hashirama win; In the process managing to make Tobirama go fully insane in his attempt to fight them with too much of Kaguya's power; killing both Itama and Kawarama; Putting Izuna in a coma; Leaving Touka now struggling with the moons power stuck in her without Tobirama to help regulate it; And leaving Hikaku with an arm now unable to ever hold his sword properly again.
Fun times!!
Season 3 after the bad ending is actually Touka and Hikaku picking up the pieces and trying to find a way to fix it all as Madara and Hashirama struggle to comprehend what they've unknowingly done to their own families.
Idk, I'll think about it later
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