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httpswwwtbhkcom · 3 years ago

Text

Comfort

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Requested: Yes

@imsouyya: Would love a part 2 where reader moves on with another guy and Hanako gets upset and sad 🚶 I love angst

@mafumafuuu-u: ik this is kinda late but maybe akane or teru? Maybe even tsukasa but the other 2 make more sense bc of sc🤭 I think u should add kou shaming hanako and yashiro 4 what they did? Depending on how close they are. Anyways I love cheating arcs and I love getting over a bastard arcs even moreee💋

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Pairing: Minamoto Teru x Reader, Hanako(Yugi Amane) x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Warning: none

Genre: Angst, fluff,

Keys:

Y/n- your name, f/d- favorite drink,

A/n: I had fun writing this 2nd part! I’m thinking that I probably should separate this into 2 parts(part 2 and part 3) cause this might get a bit too long- this is so late again.. TT

So in this story, since I mentioned Y/n was going to college, let's say that Kamome has an academy building. I forgot to mention that they’re slightly older here so that the story makes sense-

Reader: Female

Click here to see the other part(s) - Part 1 - Part 2 (Here)

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You ran through the halls, wanting to get away from that cheating bastard you once called your lover. Luckily, everyone was long gone. Nobody else could see you in this state of vulnerability. Tears have clouded your vision and you roughly wiped your eyes as you desperately wanted to leave.

Suddenly, you tripped on your foot. You closed your eyes as you awaited for the rough landing. Instead, you felt a pair of hands grab ahold of your shoulders, keeping you up. “Y/n? Is there something wrong? You’re crying...” A male voice sounded concerned. You silently cursed yourself. ‘I thought he left already.’ You thought to yourself.

You pushed yourself away from him, quickly wiping your tears and putting on a smile. “Teru! I didn't know you were still here. I thought you left. What’s up?” Your shaky voice and puffy eyes didn’t help erase suspicions.

“What’s going on? I heard shouting.” He scanned you, trying to find clues that can help him know what’s happening. “You did?” You silently panicked. “It’s probably nothing-” Teru furrowed his brows and crossed his arms at your stubbornness. “I heard your voice, I didn’t know what you were talking about with Hanako but it seemed personal.” He let his arms fall to his sides as he sighed. You looked away guiltily. “Y/n, please talk to me. I want to help you.”

You looked at his eyes after a few moments, his face showing concern that you caved in. “Me and Hanako broke up..” You wanted to continue talking, but that scene made you sick. Teru got the memo, noticing that it was that bad. His fists clenched. “I’ll talk to him later.” His voice dark.

You held his wrist and told him not to, that it isn’t worth it. “Are you sure?” You nodded, slightly tightening your hold as if he’d escape when you let go. He frowned, but understood. “Do you want me to stay with you for a while? Help you cope.” You gave him a small smile.”That would be nice.” He reciprocated the smile but much sweeter, walking beside you away from the school to your home.

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Hanako went around the school to try and find you, but had no luck. “Crap, did she leave already?” He went in every room and checked every crack to where you could hide, but to no avail. “Did I take it too far?”

“Take what too far?” A male voice asked. Hanako jumped and immediately summoned his knife, quickly turning around to see it was just Kou. He lowered his weapon and deadpanned. “It’s just you.” Kou seemed offended by this. “What do you mean ‘it’s just you’?! What are you planning?”

Hanako rolled his eyes and ignored the boy, muttering something along the lines of ‘At Least it wasn’t your brother who found me.’. He continued to float sulkingly as he lost hope in finding you. He sat on a desk, his back facing the young blond. Silence in the room, until Hanako broke it. “Hey, have you seen Y/n?” The question caught Kou off guard.

“No, I haven’t. Did something happen to her?” Worry was evident on the oblivious boy, thinking the worst possible outcomes were that you got lost and were trying to fight a supernatural. Hanako didn’t say a word, which irritated Kou. He stomped towards Hanako and faced his sulky demeanor. Kou repeated his question, to which Hanako responded. “It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t tell me what happened, I might not be able to help. Y/n’s my friend too, I care for her. So tell me-” Hanako gritted his teeth at Kou’s persistent words that he snapped. “I don’t need your help anymore! My problem isn’t your business so forget about it. Forget I asked you anything.” Then Hanako disappeared.

Kou became confused at Hanako’s behavior, and decided to find Yashiro to ask her about it. He found her sitting in the hallway in a fetal position. But when he asked, Yashiro’s eyes immediately widened before covering her face.

“I- I don’t want to talk about it..” She muttered. Kou crouched to her level and said “Okay then, take your time.” Kou briefly became silent before talking again “Do you want to go outside to help you forget or something? If you want to, of course.”

She looked up a bit, her eyes only showing. “I don’t know..” “We can stay here then, or do you want to be alone? You can always talk to me about it.” Yashiro froze, before patting the floor beside her. “I guess you can stay for a while.” Kou smiled at the answer and sat beside her.

They both sat in silence, Kou wanted to say something but kept himself shut, not wanting to make Yashiro uncomfortable.

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Teru walked you to your home. You both stood at the door. “Do you need me? I can help you with anything.” He suggested, your eyes widened. “No no thank you! You already did a lot by walking me over here.” He pouted at your answer and faced the door. “Are your parents home?” He asked.

“Um.. No, they’ll be home late- HEY!” You shouted in surprise as he took out a key hiding below your welcome mat and opened the door, welcoming himself in. You followed behind him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to invite yourself in?!”

He looked at you with an innocent smile. “Oh really? You’ll be alone after all. Thought you might need a friend to take your mind off things.” You huffed, face heating up before you snatched the key from him and closed the door. Teru smiled triumphantly. You turned on the lights and placed your bag somewhere. “Wait for me in the kitchen, I’ll be back.” Teru hummed, walking through the familiar hall.

You quickly changed your clothes into a more comfortable outfit. Then running to the kitchen to see if Teru burned anything. He skimmed through the foods you have in your fridge. He jolted up in surprise when you hit his arm. “Oh, hey Y/n.” He smiled. You deadpanned, crossing your arms as you both stared at each other for a while.

It was interrupted when the refrigerator started beeping due to the open door. Teru quickly closed it and chuckled awkwardly. He muttered an apology and you forgave him, opening the fridge to see what you have.

Teru being taller than you, resting his head on yours and scanned the fridge with you. “Can I have that?” He pointed to a drink. You took the drink and gave it to him, taking a few snacks and your favorite drink before closing the door and walking towards the living room. He stood up straight and came behind you. “It’s been a long time since I went here. It changed.” He sat on the couch as you placed the snacks on the table.

“It’s just some new stuff and moved furniture, nothing special.” You answered. You sat beside him and drank some f/d. Teru glanced at you and smiled. “I think it’s nice.” You gave him a questioning glance and tilted your head. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was time for his favorite show.

He took the remote and turned on the tv. “What’s that?” You asked. “It’s a documentary about supernaturals.” He relaxed on his seat, listening to the voice of the reporter. “I thought you already knew all about them.”

“I just like watching people make up new creatures, nothing interesting though.”

“I see.” You munched some chips, handing some to Teru, who gladly accepted the offer. You both were silently listening to the documentary, until Teru spoke up. “You haven’t told me about what happened.” You froze, hugging a pillow. You opened your mouth, then closed it.

Teru silently cursed under his breath when he saw your expression. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you lean your head on his shoulder. Sniffles were heard from you as tears rolled down your eyes. He tried to calm you down, profusely apologizing and telling you that everything will be okay.

“I- I’m such a bad girlfriend to- *hic* Hanako..” Your muffled voice was not unheard to Teru. He kept silent, letting you continue to vent out your feelings. “D- did I drive Hanako to do that because of my work? Maybe I shouldn't have been in the- the student council.”

“You wanted and loved to be in the student council. Don’t let someone else’s wants block your dreams. You’re the one who is making decisions for your life.” He defended. The mention of Hanako and his selfish desire made Teru’s blood boil.

“I-if I stayed with Hanako, a-and *hic* went with him and hung out with him, would he not kiss Yashiro?” His hands turned into a fist as his face darkened. “He did that?” You closed your eyes, his low voice sending you shivers. You nodded after a while.

“Is it my fault that he did that? It’s my fault, isn’t it..?” He gently pushed you so that he could see your face. Your eyes were puffy, streaks of tears visible on your cheeks, nose red, and you were frowning. Teru gently wiped your tears with his thumb. “It’s not your fault, Y/n.”

He carefully laid you down on your back on the couch, and he stood up. “Stay here okay? I’ll go grab you your blanket. We can..” He looked around for an idea, until his eyes landed on the tv. “-Watch a movie. How does that sound?”

Unable to answer, you nodded. Teru gave you a reassuring smile before he left the room. You waited, staring at the ceiling with nothing to think about except the memory you wanted to forget, playing again and again like a broken record player.

You were so focused that you failed to notice that Teru came back with your pillow and blanket. He quietly placed the pillow under your head and placed the blanket above your chest, making sure that your feet are nicely tucked in. It wasn’t too hot nor cold in the room, but it was a bit chilly.

He sat on the floor in front of the couch and began browsing netflix. “So, what do you want to watch?” His voice took you out of your mind, you turned to face the television. “I dunno. Pick anything you want.”

Teru continued to browse netflix until he found the one. He stopped on a movie that you, Kou, and Teru have seen together a few years ago. “That? Really?” He only chuckled at your words. “Yea, I thought that maybe we should watch it again.” He remembered that you used to love that movie.

The fact that he remembered the old movie you used to watch made your heart flutter. In the middle of the movie, your eyes continued to divert between the tv to Teru, then Teru to the tv. Teru, who felt someone staring at him, looked at you “Are you okay? What do you want me to do?” You were embarrassed that you got caught so you hid your face in the blanket.

A hand brought down your blanket to under your chin. “Don’t do that. You might suffocate.” He smiled so brightly that you closed your eyes. “So.. Bright..” You whispered. Teru heard you and looked at the window, thinking that you wanted darkness in the room. So he stood up and closed the curtains and turned off the light, the only light source coming from the television.

He plopped back on the floor. “Do you need anything else? I’ll grab it for you.” You shook your head. Teru nodded before continuing to watch the movie.

This was the most relaxed you got this few months. Every day you had to file paperworks and help other students, then do homework and get ready for college. You barely had time to rest, let alone talk to peers.

‘I’m so lucky to have someone like Teru.’. You closed your eyes and began to drift into unconsciousness. When the movie had ended, Teru yawned and said “So, did you enjoy the-” he looked back to see that you were already asleep. He softly smiled at your sleeping figure, then carried you back to your bed.

“Sleep well Y/n.” He kissed your forehead before leaving the room. Out in the hallway, his phone rang. He quickly answered, noticing that it was Kou. “Teru-nii! Where are you? You’re supposed to be at home minutes ago.”

Teru leaned on a wall as he listened to his younger brother rant. “I’m at Y/n’s at the moment.. She needs me right now, so I might stay overnight.”

“Ne, did you know that Hanako was looking for Y/n earlier? Weird right?” The sounds of sizzling were heard from the other line. Teru stayed silent, his anger at the ghost coming back to him.

“Teru-nii? Are you there?”

“Ah yes, I was just in thought.” He laughed it off. “Hmm, sure..” Kou said “Do you want me to go there and make food for you both?”

Teru kindly shook off the offer “Don’t worry, I’ll just cook instead.”

A loud clang was heard as Kou accidentally dropped a plate. “WHAT?? NO DON’T COOK TERU-NII!! I’LL GO THERE LATER–”

“Are you calling Teru-oniichan?!” Tiara’s excited voice came as she went into the kitchen. “Clumsy Kou-oniichan.. You made a mess..” The little girl cringed as the mokke she was holding began eating the dropped food. She quickly carried the mokke and scolded Fairy.

Teru chuckled as he heard the commotion, unfortunately, he wasn’t there to witness it. Tiara heard his oldest brother and became excited. “Kou-oniichan, can I talk to Teru-oniichan please? Pretty pleaseee?” Not being the one to resist her cuteness, Kou immediately gave the phone to the youngest, who started talking about her day to Teru.

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#minamoto teru #minamoto teru x reader #minamoto teru x y/n #tbhk #tbhk x reader #tbhk imagine #tbhk oneshot #jshk #jshk x reader #jshk x y/n #jshk imagine #jshk oneshot

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from-a-reckless-writer · 4 years ago

Note

33 plus 43 for (for post finale maybe?) SC if you fell like it? All of those screams SC tbh. It was hard to pick.

There is a tiredness settling deep in Kara's bones as she picks up the last of Alex's and Kelly's gift from the car and into their house.

"Is that the last of it?" Eliza asks, standing in the middle of the living room surrounded by towering stacks of wedding gift after wedding gift.

"Yes. It is. Thank Rao," Kara groans. She loves Alex, truly she does, and she's happy that she's out there having the time of her life with Kelly--they more than deserve it. But Rao, this entire day has her spent, between waking up at 5 a.m to help with the make-up and Alex's suit, and prepping the venue, and then Ms. Grant's impromptu promotion/life coaching session. At this point Kara just wants to pass out then and there on their living room floor.

"Great." Eliza claps her hand together, "Thank you for all your help. We can sort all this out tomorrow. Have it shipped to your sister's place. You should go rest, sweetheart. You look tired."

"Okay yeah, sounds good," Kara lets out a breath of relief at finally being off-duty. "G'night mom."

She trudges up the stairs, each step wearing her down. A familiar fluttering heartbeat stops her in the hallway though, has her peeking through the door. Esme sleeping sandwiched between Brainy and Nia. All wearing matching pajamas. For a moment, the tiredness seem all worth it.

She closes the door softly, continues padding down the hallway. When she reaches her old bedroom, she all but spills into it. All weary limbs and aching joints, which she thought was impossible for a Kryptonian, but apparently not.

"Hey," A deep comforting voice calls for her, and when Kara looks up, sees Lena drying her hair with a towel, wearing a sweatshirt two sizes too big on her, sitting in her old bed, the sheer relief that floods through her just makes her goddamn cry.

"H-hi," Kara chokes out, as Lena lets out a worried gasp, rising up from the bed to immediately get to Kara.

"Oh, hey, hey, Kara? What's wrong?? Tell me what's wrong?"

It should be embarrassing how this is the third time today that she's bawling her eyes out in front of Lena. But there's no shame now, she only feels safety when she's with her.

"What do you need?"

"Just hug me please?"

Kara's still wearing her dress from earlier, and the moment Lena's softness sinks against her bare skin, everything in her decompresses. More tears stream down her face. A shuddering sob passing in between their bodies, and Lena wraps around her tighter, holds her together, keeps her whole.

"Kara," Lena whispers, "do you want to freshen up first? And then, maybe we can continue cuddling on the bed?"

"Mm, yeah," she hums, still clutching tight. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good. Thank you." She reluctantly lets Lena go, sniffling and wiping her tears. The bathroom at the end of the hall still looks the same, smells the same, the same brand of shampoo and conditioner standing against the wall. Her movements feel mechanical, and she's too out of it to realize that she forgot to take out the braid and pins in her hair. She sighs at her reflection in the mirror, a crinkle forming in frustration, but otherwise decides to just let it be.

And Lena, sweet Lena, seems to understand her little crisis, when she enters the bedroom again.

"Come here," Lena says, tapping the blanket. "come on, lay down. I got you."

Kara throws her used towel somewhere in the direction of her open luggage, before climbing in. She folds her long limbs, curls in on her herself, settling on Lena's lap. Fingers start to work on her hair, pulling and tugging gently. Lena shifting every few moments, depositing the bobby pins on her bedside table, reaching over for a hairbrush. Kara hums contentedly as Lena starts brushing, eyelids growing heavy.

"Thank you, Lena," she manages to whisper before giving in, and falling into unconsciousness.

When she wakes, it's with the same sensation of fingers carding through her hair.

"Don't stop," she requests.

"Good morning to you, too." She hears Lena's voice, from somewhere above. Kara just hums, nuzzles closer against what feels like Lena's collarbone.

There's a million and one things she still needs to unpack from yesterday, but it's a new day and Lena's just there. And well? All of that can wait till later.

#u kno wat? im headcanon-ing that the wedding took place somewhere in midvale #dis is such a word vomit fic with absolutely no coherent direction #but whatever the point of this exercise is lazy writing anyway #the reckless writer writes #a prompt fill #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #supercorp

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hotch-stufff · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss The Girl

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)

Word Count: 3.7k words

Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?

A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)

*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*

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He loved you. It was no secret.

Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.

Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.

There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.

Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.

He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.

You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious.

"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.

"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.

"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.

"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.

"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.

Aaron stood there, shocked.

Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?

The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough.

He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.

And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you.

You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.

Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.

"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.

"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.

"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.

"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.

"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.

Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.

As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked.

And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.

And then that song began playing softly in the background

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid.

But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

It don't take a word, not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl

All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss.

Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising.

But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.

You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl

The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face.

"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.

But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.

He was going to kiss you.

Did he feel the same way that you did?

All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.

"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.

"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.

"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much.

You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.

He was screwed.

A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.

It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.

But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.

But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.

"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.

"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.

"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.

"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.

He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.

"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.

"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.

"Do you want the first shower?" He asked.

"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.

Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird.

You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.

Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.

Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.

"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.

"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.

Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.

After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.

"Hotch?"

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.

"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.

"Neither can I." You sighed.

"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.

"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.

"That's great! He was so nervous for that test."

"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.

"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.

But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.

Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen.

Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.

Look like the boy too shy

He ain't gonna kiss the girl

Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?

You could almost physically see his walls being built up.

Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.

"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back quickly.

"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did.

You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired.

He was gone when you woke up.

You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.

But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.

No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him

You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.

You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.

It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you.

The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.

You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.

"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.

"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.

"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.

"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.

"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.

"Excuse me?"

"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."

"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.

"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.

"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.

"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.

"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.

"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl

"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."

"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising.

He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.

"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.

"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards.

"What?" Your voice was small.

"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?

Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.

"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.

"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.

But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.

It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.

"Rossi?"

"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch.

"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.

"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.

"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.

"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag.

You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.

Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.

They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.

You wanna kiss the girl

A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.

The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.

And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.

"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.

He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.

"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad.

"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?

"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.

"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence.

"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?

"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.

"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.

"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no.

It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you. Why hadn't he?

He should have kissed you.

The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late?

"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.

He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.

"Hotch-" but he knew.

"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.

"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.

He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.

His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.

You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.

There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way

She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her

"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face. He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.

"Leave Hotch."

"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.

Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her

"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.

"Aaron." He spoke quietly.

"What?"

"Please, it's Aaron."

"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you.

"I'm so sorry Y/n."

"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.

Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words.

The song.

Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better

She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl

He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his.

Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.

"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.

"I know" his voice was beautiful.

You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl

He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."

"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.

"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.

"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.

You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.

"What?"

"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.

"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.

"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling.

"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.

"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.

.....................

"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe.

"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you.

"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband.

"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled.

"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.

You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.

"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.

"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you.

"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.

"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it.

You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it.

But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love.

And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling.

As Kiss The Girl started playing.

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

#imagine #angst #fluff #reader insert #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader

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jaskierswolf · 5 years ago

Text

The Bard of Kaer Morhen pt.1/4

Summary: In which Geralt is not the first witcher that Jaskier meets. He's completely enthralled when a witcher saves his life whilst he was studying at Oxenfurt and makes it his life's work to change the world's opinion of witchers. Meanwhile Geralt is intrigued by the amorous bard that Eskel has befriended and sets out to find out more.

On AO3

Jaskier was sixteen the first time he met a witcher.

He was drunk off his face and fast asleep on a stone bench in Oxenfurt when he was woken up by a hand squeezing around his neck and lifting him into air. He still had some growing to do but he wasn’t short by any means and yet his legs dangled limply beneath him as he clawed at the calloused fingers that were cutting off his air supply.

“Fuck!” He choked out, he knew that he shouldn’t have listened to Valdo. They had a big exam coming up and the idiot knew that he could never beat Jaskier without sabotaging him.

He was dumped back onto the floor rather abruptly, his knees screaming at him as they hit the damp cobbled street. He looked up at his assailant with wide eyes and gasped.

A witcher.

It just has to be.

The man was incredibly well built, eyes glimmering amber in the light of the moon and a jagged scar etched into the pale skin of his face. On the man’s back were two swords, thankfully sheathed, although the witcher clearly could kill a man with just his bare hands should the mood hit him.

Jaskier should have been scared. He should have been fucking terrified.

In truth, he found the whole affair rather titillating.

He’d always been a bit weak in the knees for partners who could throw him about a bit and this glorious specimen of a man could certainly do that.

Jaskier gazed up at the witcher through his eye lashes and smiled his most seductive smile.

“Why, witcher, if you wanted me on my knees you could have just asked.” He purred in a low voice. He knew the effect was probably ruined by the fact he almost certainly looked like a mess following his night on the streets but Jaskier was a flirt by nature, he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this when it was easily presented.

The witcher, unfortunately, only laughed at him and pulled him to his feet. His grip was firm and strong on Jaskier’s arms. Jaskier pouted at the witcher’s laughter but wasn’t deterred.

Rather than letting himself be steadied as he was pulled to his feet, he fell towards the witcher’s chest. “My my.” He breathed as he felt the solid muscle under his fingers, hidden beneath layers of armour but still obvious beneath his touch. “Aren’t you strong, like a…” He stammered as words failed him. “sexy ox?”

The witcher snorted. “A sexy ox? Oxenfurt has really gone downhill since my last visit if that’s the shit they teach you these days, either that or you’re drunker than you smell.”

“Yeah. Well.” Jaskier mumbled.

“Get home, bard. It’s not safe on the streets stinking of booze.” The witcher artfully extracted himself from Jaskier’s arms.

“Care to escort me?” Jaskier winked.

The witcher rolled his eyes. “Persistent aren’t you?”

“For a handsome man such as yourself. Always.” Jaskier grinned.

The witcher shook his head. “I’ll take you home, bard, but I’m not bedding you. What are you, twelve?” He smirked.

Jaskier gaped and stammered back. “I am sixteen!”

“You’re a child.” The witcher pulled him along. “Where do you live?”

“At the university.” Jaskier grumbled. “I’m a student.” He paused. “How did you know I’m a bard?”

The witcher grinned. “You stink of resin and your fingers are covered in ink stains.”

Jaskier gazed in awe at his new friend. “That’s incredible!”

The witcher scoffed and punched Jaskier lightly in the arm. “You’re not bad, for a human. Come along, bard.”

The witcher, named Eskel as Jaskier eventually found out as he tried to lead the man the longest way back to his room at the university as possible, had been hired by one of his professors to kill a monster that was picking off drunk students at night. That was why Jaskier had been so rudely awoken from his drunken nap. Eskel had been trying to save him. A small part of Jaskier’s brain wondered whether the witcher had been intending to use him as bait for the monster but he seemed to genuinely care that Jaskier got back safely.

He also seemed surprised that Jaskier was being kind to him, that he was flirting so brazenly. Apparently not many people found Eskel to their liking which was honestly a crime. His eyes were like burning suns, his smile was gentle and warm like a hearth on a cold winter’s day, and he had a sharp wit that rivalled Jaskier’s.

All in all Jaskier was rather smitten but Eskel continued to reject his flirtations, such a damned shame. The witcher did, however, make up for it by telling him an incredible tale of one of his hunts, a fight against a succubus that turned into a long night of passionate love making.

Jaskier was hooked and itching for a quill so he could capture the tale in a ballad or epic poem, anything that would put Valdo’s work to shame.

Jaskier was devastated when they eventually came to a stop in front of his bedroom door.

He sighed. “Last chance, witcher?” He gave Eskel one last wink.

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint, bard.”

Jaskier sighed dramatically. “You break my heart, dear witcher. Tell you what come to my graduation at the end of the semester and heal my broken heart with more tales of your witchering. I have a feeling there are many more ballads in you yet! I’ll even give you a cut of the profits!”

Eskel considered it for a moment and then nodded. “Throw in a bath and a hot meal and you’ve got yourself a deal bard.”

Jaskier smirked. “What about a bed for the night?”

The witcher cuffed him over the back of the head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’d like to think of it more as charmingly irresistible.” Jaskier purred jestingly at this point he wasn’t seriously flirting with the witcher. He knew a lost cause when he saw one but it was fun to flirt and Eskel humoured him.

“Incorrigible.” Eskel insisted firmly. “Sleep well, bard.”

And with that, Jaskier’s first witcher left his life for the first time.

__________

Geralt finally felt his muscles relax as he knocked on the doors of Kaer Morhen. The cold was biting against the exposed skin of his cheeks even though his cloak was pulled tightly around his neck. Roach whinnied and stamped on the ground impatiently, butting him on the shoulder. He murmured soothing words under his breath as he stroked her mane. Until the great doors opened.

He was home.

At last.

The last few months had been bizarre. Geralt was used to the hatred of humanity. He was used the suspicious glares and the never-ending litany of insults that the humans threw his way. Every witcher that lasted long enough to go into a town was used to that. It had only gotten worse after Blaviken but he had only himself to blame. He should have known better than he let himself be backed into a corner like that in a place so crawling with humans. He’d never stood a chance. They would never have listened or understood the truth. It was his word against Stregobor’s

The bastard.

What Geralt wasn’t used to was the songs and poems that had begun to crop up around the Oxenfurt and slowly spreading into the wider area.

They told tales of monster hunts, of witchers acting like knights and heroes. It had certainly made it easier to get coin after a hunt in those areas but he just didn’t understand where it was coming from. He was hoping that one of his brothers would be able to illuminate the situation.

It turned out he wasn’t the only witcher that was confused by the sudden change in fortune. Lambert greeted him with a hug and immediately asked him what trouble he’d gotten himself into this time that had inspired such songs.

“If you’re asking whether I’ve fucked a succubus, Lambert, then you should know I don’t kiss and tell.” Geralt smirked. “At least not sober.”

“Well it wasn’t me!” Lambert defended himself.

All became clear when they shuffled into the dining hall to eat and began to catch each other up with their years on the path.

Eskel grinned as he stuffed his face with a bread roll that was the size of his head. “I got myself a bard!” He announced, spitting crumbs all over the table. “A human from Oxenfurt, picked him off the streets, drunk off his face when I was hunting in the town.”

Lambert choked on his ale. “You got a what now?”

“A bard.” Eskel thumped Lambert hard on his back.

“So it’s your fault.” Geralt noted. “With the songs and poems.”

Eskel nodded.

“You fucked a succubus?” Lambert cried earning a disapproving stare from Vesemir.

Eskel rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you got from this.”

“It’s made payment easier.” Geralt noted, kicking Lambert under the table and ignoring the redhead’s curses. “The songs. He’s not scared of us.”

Eskel grinned. “That’s the best part. It’s like he’s immune to fear when it comes to witchers. He even wanted to join me on an adventure.”

Vesemir scoffed. “A human bard on a witcher hunt. That’s a foolish idea, wolf”

“That’s why I left him behind but it wasn’t easy. Bloody fool is worse than ivy. He clings onto you and doesn’t let go. An outrageous flirt too.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows at Eskel. A human who openly flirted with a witcher was either a whore trying to trick the man into bed and then demand payment, or someone who bored and wanted to try something exotic.

Neither options were particularly ideal but that was life.

“I think he might be cursed.” Eskel suggested. “I’ve never known any human, let alone a man, to try so hard to seduce a witcher, and it was genuine! I could smell it on him.”

The witchers all shared an incredulous look. Lambert patted Eskel sympathetically on the back. “You sure you weren’t on Fissttech. First the succubus, second….” Lambert trailed off.

Eskel launched across the table and soon they were wrestling on the floor. After a year apart tensions were always high before they settled back into their routine for winter. Scraps like this were unavoidable much to Vesemir’s dismay. He barked at them to take it outside or save it for the training ground.

Geralt was too lost in thought to watch the fight between his brothers.

A human bard that had taken it upon himself to change the way the world viewed mutants like him. A human that wasn’t afraid of them. A human that genuinely wanted them around. He scoffed. It was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

But what if it wasn’t?

Geralt was content with his family in Kaer Morhen. During the winter months they could all relax and enjoy the comfort of being home. They didn’t have to watch their backs every second of the day and they could all indulge in the physical comfort they craved during the summer months.

The witcher mutations were fickle. Whilst it was true that it dampened most witchers’ emotions, unless the witcher was foolish enough to undergo further mutations, they heightened other instincts. This varied depending on which witcher school you attended. The bears were solitary witchers. They were brutal and efficient and raw power but they struggled to find humans that wouldn’t flee in terror. The griffin’s style was more acrobatic. They danced and flew through the air. They parried and dodged and pirouetted in aerial attacks that were lethal and precise but the mutations had some of the worst success rates and even those who survived were often damaged and didn’t heal as well as they other schools. The cats were similarly light on their feet. They attacked from the shadows. They were the assassins and the school that gave witchers a bad name.

The wolves didn’t like the cats very much.

Unless your name was Lambert, but then he’d always liked to find new ways to piss of Vesemir and fucking the enemy was apparently his new venture.

The wolves, Geralt’s school, were a family. In the beginning, before the siege and before humans had turned on the ones that were meant to protect them, the wolf witchers had travelled in packs. They were skilled and ferocious on their own, but they were unstoppable together. These days it just wasn’t practical and they were caught in crippling loneliness for the majority of the year. Geralt felt it more keenly than his brothers, the second dose of mutations fucking with his emotions more than most.

During winter the wolves would hug each whenever they ran into each other during the day, they would wrestle on the ground whenever the mood hit them and they could often be found in a pile by the fire after a long day of training and chores. Casual affection during winter was the key to survival during the rest of the year.

No human would every allow a witcher close enough not unless they were being paid and Geralt simply could not afford regularly visits to a brothel.

But if there was really a human who wasn’t scared of witchers, that liked them even…

Geralt growled and stalked up to his room.

He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Even if the bard did like most witchers, he would still hate the Butcher of Blaviken.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #eskel #witcher eskel #geralt/jaskier #the bard of kaer morhen #wolfie's witcher writing #I'll post next chapter tomorrow or check out ao3 for the rest

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shellcord · 24 days ago

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#ShellCord #sc hall of shame #Jane

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shutupandshipit · 4 years ago

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Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.9

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 9/20

Previously <- Chapter 8: First Snows

Chapter 10: Alpha Wanted -> Next

Chapter 9: Refill

“We’re going to prescribe you suppressants.”

Blinking rapidly, Izuku lifted his head. He hadn’t been paying attention, not really. All of his focus had been on the agonizing cramps turning his guts into knots, washing his vision black and grey, and his mother’s hand crushing his. His heat was still another week away, but he’d started pre-heat that morning. It would only get worse with each passing day, and bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought.

He knew that word though, ‘suppressants’. He’s read about them, not extensively, but enough. Mostly to find out how they affected the performance of the Olympic skaters who were ‘strongly encouraged’ to take a form of both suppressants and birth control for all primary and secondary genders.

He’d never thought about using them himself though.

Clearing his throat, he asked over Inko’s sniffling, “Suppressants?”

The kind while strange doctors cocked their heads at him. “Do you know what suppressants are?” the man asked.

“Yes, a little, but why? I’m not really sure why you would want to put me in suppressants...”

Inko sobbed, “You think things are that bad?”

The doctors glanced at each other, but seemed to come to the conclusion to ignore his mother’s question. The only thing was that he wanted to know the answer too. “Suppressants have many uses. We want to use them to help regulate your heat and to make them easier,” the man explained.

Izuku bit his lip, shame twisting his insides as badly as the cramps, but asked anyway, “Can you make them go away? I don’t… want to have heats. I don’t like them. They hurt.”

“Well, that can happen during periods of excessive stress and when you’re young. You see, it’ll level out eventually. So, we’re just going to use the suppressants until that leveling out happens,” the woman explained.

Izuku stared at her as the pain in his abdomen worsened, but he managed to not hunch over completely. “I don’t care. I don’t want them.”

Inko gasped beside him, and he didn’t have to look at her to feel her eyes boring into him. “Izuku! Don’t say that! Having heats, being able to bring life into this world, is a gift!”

Again, Izuku said, “I don’t want them.”

The man pursed his lips, pushing a hand back into his dark hair. “Restricting your hormones like that is not advised, especially since you’re so young. But we can do this for you, okay? We’re not willing to endanger your health like that.”

Izuku didn’t reply, doing his best to fight the uncharacteristic anger that rose in his chest with the very characteristic tears that flooded his eyes. He didn’t want to have heats, not since he’d started them. He’d just have to find a way to use the prescription to his advantage.

…..

November Week 1

“Dr. Matsumoto?” Izuku asked tentatively as he poked his head around the door to his doctor’s office.

The omega man spun around in his chair, quickly pushing his glasses up his nose and smiling at Izuku. “Mr. Midoriya! Come in, come in! Dr. Kavinsky will be here in just a moment. Please, have a seat. There’s a few things we would like to discuss with you today.”

Izuku followed the doctor’s orders, sitting down on the paper covered exam table. The stirrups attached to the end made him queasy, but he wasn’t here for that kind of checkup, thank everything holy. To take his mind off his nerves, he stripped out of his coat and held out the arm that hadn’t just had blood drawn from it. Dr. Matsumoto strapped a blood pressure cuff to him. It was all business as usual. Even though Dr. Shuzenji had taken over his care for physical therapy and sports physicals, he still went to his usual doctors for everything else.

Nowadays, he only found himself in the doctor’s office every six months for his check-ups and whenever he needed to refill his suppressants. Today had only been meant for a refill, but he didn’t actually interact with either of his doctors for that normally. So the fact that they had requested him to attend an appointment with both of them present was more worrying than he was willing to let on.

He and Dr. Matsumoto chatted idly while they waited for Dr. Kavinsky, and each passing moment of small talk made Izuku all the more nervous. When the female omega bustled in with jovial apologies, he was nearly ready to vibrate right off the edge of the table. Digging his fingers into the padding, he forced a smile and said, “No worries, Dr. Kavinsky, but um… is there anything wrong? I only needed a refill, and there’s still another couple of months until my next check-up.”

The doctors glanced at each other, a peculiar habit they’d had as long as he’d known them, before Dr. Kavinsky glanced back at him and Dr. Matsumoto turned to click away at the computer. “Well, no, there’s nothing particularly wrong. Well, I haven’t seen your blood work just yet, but I would like to say everything is alright. That is to say, we didn’t ask you to come here for anything concerning your check-ups, but concerning your refill.” She’d also always had a peculiar way of speaking, and Izuku took a few moments to process her words. There was a ping on the computer, and she glanced away towards the screens as the other omega began sliding around open files around on the screen.

Ice trickled into his veins, the first indication of panic. “My refill, ma’am? Is there something wrong with it?”

Again, the two doctors exchanged a look. There were colorful charts that made no particular sense to Izuku across the computer screen now including a long list of text open on the opposite monitor. They pulled the screen away from the wall to swivel it towards him, a piece of furniture he found cool every other occasion but right then. Flanking the screen, Dr. Matsumoto spoke while Dr. Kavinsky pointed at spots on the bar and pie graphs. “I want you to take a look at this chart, Mr. Midoriya, do you know what this represents?” Izuku shook his head, and the doctor continued without missing a beat. “These are graphs that we devised to make it easier to explain things to patients. These charts represent the levels of crucial hormones in your body over the past couple visits you’ve had. You might be able to tell why we’re concerned.”

Izuku swallowed, eyes absorbing every ounce of info he could glean from the sparsely labeled graphs, but he thought he understood what they were trying to say. “The levels have been dropping over the past two years?” He was only taking a stab in the dark on the time frame. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d come in in the past year, but he knew he’d gotten his blood drawn every time. There were a lot of charts staring at him.

“These charts are just from the past year not including the one that was run today. That one is still in text format over there. We have ones dating back to when you were first placed on suppressants as well. We’ve seen dips in your levels that track with the dates you’ve given us for your heats though they are lower than what we’d expect for normal suppressant usage, but this has been a common theme with your heats and suppressants.” He glanced at Izuku though, and the slight frown of disapproval seemed to say he suspected foul play on Izuku’s part. He wouldn’t have been wrong, and Izuku ripped his eyes away back to the screen. “But your levels have rapidly begun to decline this year and that is dangerous. Dangerous for everyone, but particularly for omegas and alphas. We’d hoped that they would level back out, but...” Dr. Matsumoto inhaled noisily, but Dr. Kavinsky was the one to speak.

“Mr. Midoriya, we are no longer going to be providing you with suppressants.”

Izuku’s eyes snapped to her. Every ugly emotion he possessed -fear, anger, horror, terror- all crowded together in his chest. They all vied for attention until he was feeling nothing at all. Since he’d started training close to Katsuki again, he’d also started having to regularly take his suppressants -sometimes even taking them twice or three times a day-, and the sweeping numbness that they occasionally caused was a welcome relief at times. “Why? I… I need my suppressants, ma’am, sir.”

“Do you know why we have suppressants, Mr. Midoriya? Do you know what they do?” Dr. Kavinsky asked.

His immediate response was ‘yes’, but the look on her face told him that any answer he gave was going to be wrong. At least partially. Still, he said, “To control heats for omega and ruts for alphas so we can still function in society. Either putting them on a set schedule or making them easier to handle so there will be less damage and recuperation afterwards.”

“Well, that is true, yes, but that’s only part of it. Here’s the thing, suppressants are actually meant to sustain hormone levels. That’s how we manage all of those things. That’s also why there are so many different kinds, and not all of them work for every omega or alpha. Everybody’s bodies are different, and therefore need different hormone levels for suppressants to work. Here’s another thing that isn’t usually explained, but it is why prolonged use is highly discouraged. Prolonged use can make these crucial hormone levels drop to severe and dangerous levels, which is why blood tests are needed to track these. That is what we’re beginning to see with your hormone levels. For an alpha or omega, if these levels drop too far it could cause a catatonic state or that person to go feral. Much like with what happened to you when you were younger. If use is continued, this could even cause death. So, we’re discontinuing your refills, and if your hormones do not return to normal, we may have to start hormone treatments. There are other safer ways to manage your heats, especially since you’ve been an adult for a few years now.”

The room fell silent, and after a moment, Dr. Matsumoto seemed to feel the need to include, “This is commonly seen in… suppressant abuse and dependency cases…”

Izuku worked his jaw, and after a moment, muttered, “What am I supposed to do without my suppressants? I haven’t had a heat… that isn’t unbearable since I presented.” He hadn’t really had any heats since he was eleven and was put on his suppressants, but he didn’t need to tell them that.

The suppressants he’d been prescribed were supposed to be taken daily, but he skipped his dose most days and saved them for the moment he started feeling his pre-heat set in. He’d take double until his heat would normally end, effectively eliminating it all together. Heats and ruts functioned as a full body detox, resetting the body for a new cycle, so to completely be skipping them… Well, he was sure that it had something to do with his declining hormone levels. It couldn’t be healthy.

But he didn’t have any other choice. They were just too painful.

“There are apps that provide heat services where an alpha will stay in your vicinity or even physically help you through your heat. Or if you’re a traditionalist, possibly you could date. There are also some very R-rated sites that have plenty of heat implements that may make things easier. As for the chemical route, we cannot condone further use,” Dr. Matsumoto explained, repositioning the screen and sitting back down.

He looked so helpful, sounded so helpful, but all Izuku wanted to do was strangle him. Maybe that was why he forced a smile, hopped off the table and grabbed his coat. If that wasn’t an addict’s response, he didn’t know what was. He didn’t want to be an addict. It was a hard truth to consider. “Thank you for your time today, doctors. I appreciate you explaining things to me. I’ll see you in another couple of months.” Without waiting to hear their answers, he turned and left the room despite how rude that was.

He had to get to practice. He didn’t have time to be worrying about things like this.

…..

Katsuki hadn’t been looking forward to practice. He enjoyed cardio generally, but once the first snow fell for the season, he absolutely despised it. He would rather skate endless circles around the rink or do sprints or just about anything else for hours over running outside. Living in Yuuei, logic would have stated that he was used to the cold by that point in his life, but reality was a cruel mistress. Every breath he took felt like ice picks being rammed into his lungs, and once everything was said and done, it took him at least two hours to properly warm up again.

Still, he dutifully showed up to practice that afternoon dressed in thermals and his workout gear instead of his usual heavy winter wear. He wore the beanie and gloves that he’d had to dig out of the bottom of his closet, a little musty and very itchy. He hadn’t remembered why he’d relegated them to be forgotten in the shadows, but standing there wearing them, he was reminded all over again. He was mildly bitter about the fact that Izuku had hoarded his gloves and hat instead of returning them.

Granted, Katsuki wouldn’t have accepted them -he gave them to an omega for fuck’s sake, he’d never see them again- but he would have liked the gesture. Well, he’d take them back under very specific circumstances.

‘Gifts to omega. Must provide. Keep warm. Warmth is strong body. Strong body is strong pups. Court omega to mate omega. Omega will give strong pups. Omega will make good mate. Omega will make alpha happy.’

‘I get it,’ Katsuki thought at his alpha viciously, but as much as he hated to bother with the basest of his instincts, he had allowed his alpha to guide him. And it seemed to have paid off.

He slouched on a park bench while he waited for the rest of the team to show up, nursing a bottle of hot tea. Several of the others had already turned up including his partner, and his eyes hadn’t left Izuku’s hands. Wrapped up in green, white and black thermal fleece lined gloves with a rabbit decal on the back, Izuku’s hands looked very warm indeed. And from what he could tell, the size of the gloves were perfect.

Smirking to himself, he slid a little further down.

The omega stood several meters away from Katsuki as he watched Iida and Uraraka go back and further. Iida gestured as animatedly as usual, and Uraraka mimicked his movements until a small smile appeared on Izuku’s face. The omega didn’t join in the conversation though, and something about the way he stood, a little further back than usual with his arms held tightly across his chest, told Katsuki something wasn’t right.

‘Omega distressed? Worried? Angry?’ his alpha asked worriedly.

‘I don’t know.’

The smirk on his face fell away, and as if sensing his gaze, Izuku turned towards him. There was a fakeness to his smile that Katsuki had been forced to get used to since they’d presented. That smile had stuck around for years after Aizawa had recruited them, but it had rarely made an appearance in recent years. Seeing it now felt like an ill omen, like the worst kind of shock to his system. He sat up straight, but as Izuku headed his way, he watched it ease into something more true.

“Kacchan!” Izuku said, stopping beside Katsuki as he shoved his hands into coat pockets.

“What do you want, nerd?”

Izuku’s smile didn’t falter, and only seemed to grow wider as he held out the pair of gloves Katsuki had given him the week before. “Sorry for keeping them so long. I was still using them, but someone left me these as a present in my bag yesterday, so I thought I’d return yours.”

Pursing his lips, Katsuki stared at the gloves, not reaching for them even though he very much wanted to trade out his current itchy pair. The fact that they’d smell like Izuku just made it harder to fight. “Are those better than mine?”

Red flushed Izuku’s cheeks, and Katsuki knew the answer. “Well, I uh, that is- Yours are really nice-”

“Stop stuttering, and just give me a straight answer. Damn.”

“They’re… a bit nicer than yours, but only because they fit better!”

Which meant they were worlds better than Katsuki’s beat up, worn in fur lined leather gloves. He hid a smirk in his collar. Snatching them from Izuku’s hand, he said, “Better hurry up and figure out who gave them to you soon to thank them properly.”

Still smiling, Izuku clasped his hands behind his back. “You wouldn’t have any idea who that would be, right Kacchan? Maybe you saw something?”

“The only thing I see is the fact that you’re still wearing my fucking beanie too.”

Izuku’s hand jumped up to his hair flattened by the black and orange beanie. “Do you want it back?”

“I’m already wearing one. No use when it’s just going to go in my pocket.”

“Okay.” Izuku didn’t turn back to his friends like Katsuki thought he would, but instead took a seat beside him. As soon as he sat, he seemed to deflate, shoulders drooping and smile dropping almost into non-existence. His eyes gazed off into the distance.

Katsuki wasn't sure if he should say anything and disturb Izuku, or continue to stare and watch him wallow. He chose the former, preferring a smiling Izuku to whatever he'd turned into. "What's the matter with you?" Izuku's eyes snapped towards him, startled, and Katsuki felt worse for knowing that it was because that was the first time Katsuki had asked how he was doing in years. Even when they'd actually been best friends, he'd rarely ever asked Izuku that question.

That fake smile returned immediately. "Oh, nothing, Kacchan, just a little tired. Thanks for asking though."

'Don't. Don't pretend with me. Don't put on that fake expression. You don't have to do that with me,' Katsuki thought desperately, wishing he had the guts to just come out and say it. Before he could muster up the words though, Toshinori called their attention, waving them over to the beginning of the hiking trail.

Together they stood and started towards their coaches.

Aizawa was bundled up tightly in black and maroon, looking not at all present as he dozed against a tree. Toshinori, tall and gaunt, stood beside the omega beneath the dropping bows of the pine. His blond hair was pushed back with a hairband much like the one Katsuki had given Izuku several weeks ago, and his track suit looked bulky and warm. "Good afternoon, my young charges! I hope you all had a good night yesterday." As always, Toshinori's voice was loud and booming, drawing the attention of people down the walking path.

The team tittered away for several long moments until Toshinori cleared his throat to bring their attention back to the task at hand. "Alright. We haven't used this hiking path for a run in awhile so be mindful of the condition of the road, low hanging branches, icy patches and roots. Don't overwork yourselves too early, this trail is an eight kilometer loop all together. With the season about to start, we're also starting up our annual Run-to-Win Competition. Remember, first place gets the most points, and if you're the first to cross the finish line, you get certain prizes. Today is the right to choose your own outfit for the exhibition within reason of course, but you'll be the final decider in the end." The group erupted in excited shouts again, and even Katsuki perked up.

He'd gotten to choose his outfit a couple times over the course of his career, but there'd always been something his coach rejected or made him change. He'd never had a true say in what he wore. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Izuku straighten up in interest. Right, they were partners this year. If one of them came in first, that person would also be choosing the others’ outfit as well. They had to match, at least for the most part, and Katsuki wasn't about to wear something fucking stupid because he lost to Izuku.

Izuku glanced at him, catching his eye. They held eye contact for a long moment before the real smile was back again. "What do you say, Kacchan? Who's going to be choosing our outfits?"

With all of the others, they lined up at the mouth of the trail, and waited for Toshinori to start the clock. "Me, of course, shitty Deku," Katsuki spat before taking off with everyone.

Both he and Izuku didn't go full tilt right off the bat like a lot of their teammates did. The course was long, and they didn’t need to burn out too early. At least half of the others streamed out ahead of them, but soon enough, they were leading the pack. The rest lagged, some beginning to walk and others stopping all together to bend over and breath heavily. Only a few kept a steady pace, but none of them were as fast or steady as Izuku and Katsuki. Soon enough, they were the only ones on the path.

They kept pace with each other. Step for step, breath for breath, they ran together as if they were practicing synchronicity again. It was only when they'd already passed the fourth mile that they glanced at each other and simultaneously picked up the speed. Even as their race truly started, they were in sync. It was maddening in more ways than one, and Katsuki huffed like a boar as he worked to get even an inch in front of Izuku. Still, they remained neck and neck.

"Goddammit, Deku!" Katsuki spat on a sharp exhale. They were all but sprinting by that point, drenched in sweat and nearing the end of the trail.

Izuku had a wild smile, cheeks flushed with beautiful color and eyes alight. "I'm- going to- beat you- Kacchan!"

"Like hell!"

A wild laugh fell from Izuku's lips as the mouth of the trail came into view, and they both put in every last ounce of strength they had left. They reached the end of the trail, and kept going as they slipped on a patch of ice just on the other side.

"Fuck!" Katsuki cried, flailing backwards and snapping out a hand to keep Izuku from crashing forward onto his knees. Instead, they tumbled back into the snow between the trees, Katsuki on his back and Izuku against his chest completely out of breath. "Fuuuuuuck," Katsuki groaned, head flopped back even as the snow began to melt and soak his hair. He could barely breathe, and Izuku's weight didn't make it any better. Still, Izuku didn't try to get up and Katsuki didn't push him away.

After a moment, Katsuki felt the frozen tip of a nose skim along the column of his throat. Izuku's scent wafted to him. Sweat and excitement and musk and mint and arousal and lightning, and again, that chemical cleanness. It was the same as the last time he'd smelled it, but stronger than before. Like when they'd been twelve, and Izuku had been abusing suppressants. Wrinkling his nose against the scent and the sudden rush of worry and anger in his body, he felt more than heard Izuku gasp above him.

The weight disappeared from his chest, and he cracked his eyes open to find Izuku's surprised expression as Toshinori lifted him off Katsuki and Aizawa grasping his forearm to pull him to his own feet.

When his eyes found the omega's again, Izuku grinned. "Good race, Kacchan, but it looks like we're going to have to work together on our costumes."

"One of these days, you're going to have to give the others a chance to win a race," Aizawa said.

Katsuki sneered at their coach. "Not a chance in hell! We won fair and square. They need to try harder if they want to win."

Izuku laughed, the sound a tinkling chime even as Aizawa rolled his eyes and pulled the other omega away. "See you later, Kacchan," he called, hand waving over his head.

Katsuki couldn't rip his eyes away from him or rub away the reminder of his scent.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha!katsuki #omega!izuku #figure skater au #no quirks au #my writing #sharpen your blades

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carnalpleasure · 5 years ago

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this one turned out way longer than i expected and it’s too long to post under a cut??? idk how tumblr works ok. but you finally get a lil taste of warlock!richard🔥😏 or would it be hawthorne!richard ?

anyways i think this ones pretty cute and im even more excited to go write the next part <3 thank u to everyone thats read this far 🥺 ILY

Light My Fire

The Warlock Council had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of their newest student. They’d planned to meet Richard bright and early that morning, but Michael insisted on letting him sleep in and rest up. So Ariel reluctantly postponed the meeting until all the classes were done for the day. And yet, they still were late to arrive. The master warlocks were quickly losing patience as they sat in their usual conference hall, once again debating on whether or not Richard even belonged there.

“Baldwin, you’re being naive,” John Henry said, his frustration evident in his voice. “The boy doesn’t possess any powers, he is being possessed,” he urged.

“How can you be so sure, John Henry?” Ariel interjected. “You said the same thing about Michael and look at what an asset he’s turned out to be.”

“I’m still not convinced on that one yet either,” John Henry muttered.

They had been debating this ever since Ariel received the tape from a frightened nurse at the clinic. She didn’t want anything to do with Richard anymore after seeing that footage, but she didn’t have the heart to turn him into the authorities since they couldn’t prove he was responsible either. Ariel and Baldwin only wanted to believe that the young boy was a powerful, promising warlock. While John Henry and Behold were less optimistic, believing it to be just a typical case of demonic possession.

Just as John Henry was taking out his pocket watch again to check the time, the tall arched door creaked open, echoing through the halls of the hallow room. Michael walked in first while Richard stood hesitantly in the doorway, his messy bangs partially hiding his face. Michael turned back to him, nodding for him to follow. “Come on,” he said softly, coaxing him in. The quiet brunette rushed to his side, like a shy little kid clinging to his mom’s leg in the grocery store.

“Richard! We’re so glad you made it! How was the trip?” Ariel perked up as soon as he saw the boys, quickly forgetting all about the argument. He walked right up to Richard, putting his hands on the boys shoulders and giving him the biggest, fakest smile the pissed off boy had ever seen. He quickly took a step back, pulling away from Ariel’s grip and giving him a look of pure hate and disgust. He hated this guy already. He was so arrogant, the way he talked, treating him like an old friend when he’d never met this man. But putting his hands on him? That irritated him more than anything.

Ariel was either oblivious to his anger, or he was ignoring it. But he moved right on without skipping a beat. “Well then, gentlemen. Shall we proceed with the first test?” He looked back at the other three warlocks, as if waiting for applause. His voice was rich with excitement as he returned to his seat at the table. He seemed overeager and it made Richard uncomfortable. He scooted closer to Michael, shooting him a nervous look. The anxiety was nearly radiating off him at this point.

Michael put his hands behind his back, like how he always stood when he was observing something of importance. But he had a different reason for it this time. He snapped his fingers to discreetly get Richard’s attention, signaling him to take his hand. The brunette reached for his hand right away and the boys locked fingers behind Michael’s back without the other warlocks ever noticing. It helped a bit, Richard’s heart rate started to slow and some of the tension melted away.

The four master warlocks were sat at the table like a panel of judges. They all remained straight faced and silent as Ariel took over, proceeding with the test. “Now Richard, since it is your first time using magic, we’ll start small. Today’s test will be a simple one. Any level one warlock can eventually master this.” As if on cue, Baldwin produced a single candle and set it on the center of the table. Michael let go of his hand then. He moved his hand to the small of Richard’s back and lightly nudged him forward.

“Pyrokinesis,” Ariel announced, “The ability to-“

“I know what it means,” Richard interrupted.

Ariel paused, his enthusiastic smile turning cold. This boy was testing his patience, although he’d never show it. Ariel was a master of masking his emotions. “Such a smart boy,” he said dryly. “Well then, let’s see if you can figure out how it’s done. Light the candle.”

Richard froze. That’s it? No directions? No magic spell? How the hell do you start a fire with nothing? He wanted to find out how just so he could burn this ridiculous place down.

Michael’s hand returned to Richard’s lower back, the small touch assuring him he was still right by his side. “Concentrate,” Michael’s tone was soft and soothing. “Think of the wick as someone that’s hurting you, think about how you would focus your rage towards that person, then direct it there.” Richard tried to listen to his words but he couldn’t focus on the candle, or on Michael. All he could feel was the pressure building. These four powerful men had all eyes on him, waiting for him to practically perform a miracle. His heart started to pound again, his hands shaking, feeling like his skin was crawling.

Without thinking, he turned around and ran for the door, stumbling into the hallway and trying to remember which direction they came from. Michael immediately went after him, “Hey, wait. Come here,” he pleaded, reaching out to grab him gently by the arm. Richard tried to shake him off and pull away but Michael grabbed him with both hands and pulled him into his chest where the brunette collapsed in his arms instantly. He buried his face in Michael’s chest trying to hide his shame. His burning red cheeks and watery eyes gave it away. Richard never cried unless it was tears of rage.

“I’m not like you, I can’t..” he grumbled into Michael’s chest. The blonde had his arms wrapped around him, running a hand through his soft brown hair soothing him almost instantly. “You’re just nervous,” Michael replied, his tone soft and forgiving. “Let me help you,” he whispered pleading, his lips brushing against Richard’s ear lightly as he spoke. Richard’s whole body started trembling at the sensation. Feeling the boy’s sudden reaction gave Michael an idea.

He ran his hand carefully up Richard’s chest to his neck, slowly letting his fingers wrap around the boy’s throat. Richard’s eyes went wide, completely taken by surprise as he felt Michael’s grip tighten, forcing him to look up at the blonde. The look on Michael’s face was seductive yet sinister as he leaned in, painfully slow, pressing their lips together and kissing Richard for the first time. Ever. Richard had never been kissed before by anyone and the brand new sensation sent sparks flying. Literally.

Every candle in the entire corridor burst into flames and the whole room was suddenly illuminated in a bright orange glow. The chandeliers started to swing violently and the hallway was filled with warmth. They pulled away from the kiss just in time to see that last of the light show. The candles flickered wildly and the last sounds of crackling fire echoed through the halls.

“Did you do that?” Richard asked, looking up at Michael in shock. He started to get angry, feeling like he’d just fallen for a trick. But the blonde shook his head, beaming with pride as he looked back at the boy. “No, baby. That was all you.”

A look of confusion crossed the brunettes face, his brows furrowing together as he took a moment to process what just happened. After a minute his eyes shot up to meet Michael’s gaze again. “How did you know it would work?” he asked.

Michael smiled, “Magic is a feeling. I just needed to make you feel something.”

Richard thought about that answer for a moment before reaching up to steal another kiss, surprising Michael yet again. Then he grabbed the boy by the hand and dragged him back into the meeting room where the Wizard Council had begun packing up their things for the day.

“You came back,” John Henry said dryly. “We were beginning to think you checked back into the clinic.” Michael wanted to burn the guy’s face off for even saying such a thing. He shot John Henry a look that was just short of demonic, it was a warning more than an intimidation.

“I can do it now,” Richard professed. His body was still buzzing from the kiss and he felt more sure of himself than ever. The only thing that could possibly feel as good as this, would be wiping the smug looks of their faces now.

“You’re late, we don’t have time-“ Baldwin started to shut him down but Ariel waved a hand, signaling him to be silent. “Let’s be fair now, Baldwin. Give the boy another shot. Why not.” Ariel sounded sarcastic and uninterested, as if he didn’t believe Richard.

“Really, Ariel? What’s the point?” John Henry asked, taking out the pack of cigarettes he always carried in his breast pocket. He put one to his lips, but before he could even reach for his lighter, the tip of the cigarette sparked, lighting up and glowing cherry red. It took John Henry by surprise and he inhaled too quickly, sucking in a harsh cloud of smoke and coughing.

The other warlocks all turned immediately to look at Richard, looks of shock and disbelief on their faces. It wasn’t as big as the display Michael had just witnessed in the hall, that’s for sure. But it definitely got the point across and got their attention. Ariel’s face lit up and a smile formed from ear to ear.

“That was excellent, Richard! You passed your first test!” he said with a laugh, his ego skyrocketing as his suspicions about the boy were affirmed. It was a small display of power, yes. But it was a sure indicator that the power was there. And that was all Ariel needed to know to officially induct him into the prestigious school.

“It’s settled then! Tomorrow morning. You’ll start attending classes with Michael right away. The two of you have a lot of studying to do.” He put a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze and looking at both of them like a proud dad would stare into the eyes of his sons. It made Richard feel unsettled, and Michael feel adored.

He dismissed the meeting then, sending the boys back to their room to get plenty of rest for tomorrow’s next test. As soon as they were out in the hall, Michael snaked his arms around Richard’s waist, pulling the brunette in close for another kiss. Richard put his hands on the blonde’s face, running them up into his hair and grabbing a fistful of his blonde curls roughly. “Come on,” he mumbled between kisses, “let’s go make some magic.”

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger @angelicmichael @langdons-butterfly @thewarriorprincessxo

#michael langdon #michael x richard #the last time i saw richard #ahs au #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fic

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jackstingy · 2 years ago

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@dearfr1end gets a story about seeing how long j.d. can go without breaking his fridge. again. — sc. lyrics from.

for the rest is green, j.d. prays, another plenitude of ceramic pots containing the carcasses of house plants never meant to be crashing down at jack’s insistence that the living room be rebuilt from the crawl space upwards. neither a romantic poet nor a ruthless warrior, the only nonlethal occupation either of them could think up that would make a positive impression on their first guest in forever was that of a home renovator, and as it turns out, would is not synonymous to will just as wood glue is not synonymous to afternoon teatime additive. ever the prodigy at prioritising, j.d. had taken a stab at stacking his psychology textbooks on the coffee table in front of the television (set to a wrestling program, again at jack’s insistence that thinly veiled vellity to violence would be alluring) and shoving barbecue sticks up his old plants’ stems (the glue would set after a few minutes, jack insisted, and now he plays the ignorant hierophant to how the plants and their stupid ceramic pots have jumped off the kitchen shelves) and providing the latest sponsor of his madness (forrest can you see the forest for the trees can you see me for me maybe i should take up poetry instead of listening to you jack shut up jack shut up jack shut up me) with some alcohol-free champagne. to celebrate what? ha! j.d. can be the ignorant hierophant too, you should know. forrest shouldn’t.

he realises after what is either a minute or a millennium of mopping up the dirt and the shards of clay that look like they were painted by a kindergartner that, oh, the bottle of alcohol-free champagne is in his hand and oh, no, the esteemed guest that is forrest greene is waiting for him in the freezing living room. the mop clatters to the ground, bisecting another fragment of former vase, and he sprints from the corridor with all the dead plants to the living room with all the dead plants. the wind has messed up his hair, he’s sure. the champagne’s been warmed by his clammy palms past the point of consumption, he’s certain. doesn’t matter. what doesn’t kill them will make them stronger. stand a little taller. that’s not even the song on the radio, j.d. that’s the song he wants to play but can’t because jack’s like his own mental military bootcamp on ye olde masculinity and that all begins and ends with whether or not he plays beethoven on the radio.

he switches the station to something distorted. loud. messy. the fun kids junior channel and its dubstep remix of ‘ twinkle twinkle little star ’ is plenty alternative by his standards.

‘ sorry about the wait. um, the shelves are going through their stroppy teen phase as of now, so i’d recommend you not make them self-conscious about how they’re all on the floor whinging about whatever. ‘ he sits on the sofa a safe distance away from forrest. one can never be too safe, though, and so he slips down to the floor. another shelf does the same.

‘ the bottle is ready to blow, ’ he remarks, cork pointed straight at his face. six twists later, the cork punishes him to predictably outfit-ruining results. ‘ okay, well, you didn’t have to prove it. jesus. jack, i told you, blasphemy isn’t punishable by pyre anymore. it’s civil rights or something. i know they didn’t have those in your time, but – ‘

he looks back to his guest. jesus, jack. he wishes to persecute both. ‘ so, um, yeah, there’s this mural project going on about a waterslide away from me, and i was wondering if you’d help me figure out how to make sure i don’t ruin the whole block with my work-in-progress level of coordination? ‘ natural 20 on that death save, j.d. don’t blow it now.

AND ALONG COMES JACK, KNOCKING DOWN HIS PORTRAIT ON THE HALL OF SHAME WITH A SKIP IN HIS STEP AND A SMILE ON HIS ROTTING FACE...

have you ever tried having faith in someone? it's a horrific affair, and that is an assessment sent with love by someone who has aroused a litany of them. here on the floor, however, lies one jack daniel ceallach, choking on his words as a geyser of corner shop absinthe seeps through his t-shirt. good, jack daniel. i have never liked that profane tunic, nor the circumstances in which he chooses to wear it. the combination of a jubilant axiom and pastel takes on noah's rainbow arch is one that incites nausea. forrest greene, however, incites excitement. who are you? and why, really, does jack daniel want you here?

#threads.#first ic post and it's based on a W.EEZER SONG... u are responsible for great things kc

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starsailorstories · 6 years ago

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The Grief Labor (in general and in SC)

The healer knew the child would be dead before she got there. It was why she’d knocked on the abbey’s doors. It was why she’d woken up the death priestesses and had them follow her lantern through the darkness and the snow. When they arrived the family were beyond speaking to; their mourning broke the windows; their bodies collapsed and rejoined the dark as though they could follow the child there. The priestesses washed her bones and covered them and said the prayers. They lit a candle that would stand where she had been for as long as her name was remembered, and began to depart. But at the door they stopped.

The eldest of the priestesses handed to the healer a basket, overflowing with thick skeins of thread. “You see that fence across the square?”

The healer nodded. It stretched from one side of the white-blanketed field to the other, marking the border between future fiber crops.

“Stay here for the night. In the morning, you tell the girl’s parents they should wrap it up from end to end in thread so that none of the wood shows through, and none of the threads cross over each other.”

“What will it help?” said the healer, who, for all her virtues, dealt in life.

“Nothing,” the priestess replied. “But it will make them wait until spring arrives, and then it will help them wait until spring is over. And maybe then, they’ll be ready to go on with something. But if they’re not, write us a letter, and we’ll send some more thread.”

[Images: 1. quotation from the novel The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon, which reads ‘Joe was deflated. The surge of triumph he felt when he finished a story was always fleeting, and seemed to grow briefer with every job. This time it had lasted about a minute and a half before turning to shame and frustration. The Escapist was an impossible champion, ludicrous and above all imaginary, fighting a war that could never be won. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. He was wasting his time. “Idiot,” he said, wiping at his eyes with the back of an arm.’ 2. quotation from the Winchester Mystery House website, which reads ‘Shortly after her husband’s death, Sarah left their home in New Haven, CT and moved out west to San Jose, CA. There, she bought an eight-room farmhouse and began what could only be described as the world’s longest home renovation, stopping only when Sarah passed on September 5, 1922.’]

“Grief labor,” enshegoa in Ashtivan, is a worldbuilding concept I created from a concept I’d noticed in literature, history, and the lives of people I met and heard about. On Ashtiva, ancestor worship is a fairly worldwide phenomenon (the species only having spread over their world relatively recently in the scope of their history), and death and grieving are usually not shied away from; but in the case of particularly sudden or tragic deaths, the local spiritual leaders will usually give homework--an easy and low-stakes but time consuming project designed both to give bereaved people a reason to keep getting up in the morning and to allow time for contemplation and working through emotions.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay quote up there is from a passage I was reading and rereading a whole lot while developing Lux’s character. It’s not an example of a grief labor exactly, but it deals with the attempt to cope with a reality in which you feel helpless via a proxy task, specifically a storytelling task.

Originally, before I made more decisions about her backstory and also just realized I did not have time to do all the research that it would take, Lux’s unofficial, self-imposed, slightly maladaptive grief labor was going to be borrowed from another recluse of the Californian hills: Sarah Winchester, who was famously directed by a medium to always be building a house in order to appease the spirits of all those killed by her husband’s invention, the Winchester rifle. This intrigued me because it had a strong element of penance and attempted reparation, emotionally, but obviously fell short of both because of its self-absorbed nature. What would today be equivalent to a $70 million fortune was poured into an architecture of suffering, with halls and stairways literally going nowhere, instead of turning outward where the real healing from the acts being repented was needed. This struck me as being a pained and twisted version of the Ashtivan philosophy of building your soul into your designs and creations.

Eventually, via the influence of Chabon’s novel and my own life--plus the absolute delight of hitting on the idea of connect Lux’s experience on earth with the lesbian pulp writers of the mid 20th century--led me to decide that her project would actually be writing, and writing that specifically addressed the places in her own life narrative where she felt helpless to change the ending. But I’m trying to keep the sense of the stagnant architecture of suffering. In a lot of ways the little house on the mountainside is the opposite of the starship wrecked at the peak. From the first sentence of vol. 1 Lux is being pushed to take what she learned there out the door.

#just in case first off:#child death tw #death tw #sweet chariot #writing #process

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