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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]

A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.5K

Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too.

At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.

And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.

“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”

“You mean, romantically?”

He nodded.

“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”

“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”

“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”

She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.

“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.

“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.

“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.

Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.

Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.

"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re sending me away?"

"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."

"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"

"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?

Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?

Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.

Wait a minute...

He went to meet Talia.

"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.

"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise."

Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled.

In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that.

"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion.

"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit."

"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard.

As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.

“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?”

They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.”

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.

Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.

And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned.

Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.

But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating.

Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.

They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married.

While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage.

She hadn’t considered Talia though.

Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her.

Turns out that she really was foolish.

“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat.

“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”

“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.”

And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.

It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t?

It may take a while but she would be okay,

#bane #bane dcu #bane imagine #bane x reader #bane imagines #bane one shot #bane angst #like super angst #mention of Talia #bane x oc #tom hardy bane #TDKR #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines

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spencerspecifics · 3 years ago

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This is chapter two to that fic I posted a few months ago! I'm calling this fic "Technical Analyst". Enjoy :)

Technical Analyst (ch.2)

Chapter one here

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Derek started his search for more information at the beginning, the FBI database. He knew Spencer’s first and last name, plus his old division, he should be able to find it easily.

And he did, it wasn’t a lot of information, though. All Spencer’s personal information was blacked out, only could be opened by a unit chief or anyone else higher up. Which meant he’d have to go crawling back to Hotch to learn anything about the guy.

Damn, he was almost back at the start of his search, knowing nothing. But he wasn’t, he still had a bit of information on Reid, but not a lot, not enough. So he read all he could on the guy.

He’s a doctor, but in what, medical training? That seemed like the most reasonable answer, but if that’s the case- what’s a medical professional doing working on their computers? Derek wanted to learn more about that.

Past that, all Derek could see about him was his previous work in domestic terrorism. And he had an okay record. The chief unit agent had a few notes about him on the reports from their cases, such as; “While Dr. Spencer Reid is a bright individual, we found the information he does hold to not always be the most helpful. With that being said, we’ve set him on the research end of our work, to help him learn more and to help our field agents stay focused.” “Dr. Spencer Reid is an amazing researcher for the domestic terrorism unit, but he doesn’t socialize strongly with the rest of the group.” “Dr. Spencer Reid seems more interested in the scientific behavioral aspects of why our unsub’s do what they do, while that is helpful for de-escalation when we encounter our unsub’s, (which our other agents take care of, as Dr. Spencer Reid isn’t in the field much.) it is not necessary, as he is not a profiler, even though he has trained with SSA Jason Gideon. We have now set him on research full time.”

Derek kept scrolling, similar notes kept showing up, Dr. Spencer Reid was smart- but not always conventially, he was specifically interested in behavioral studies- so why wasn’t he with Garcia? Or on the field with the BAU? Not to mention he had trained with Jason Gideon, one of the BAU’s best agents. Morgan had only met Gideon briefly before he retired, and since then he hadn’t heard much of the guy (except for what Rossi would say once and a while.)

Derek had enough bread crumbs about the genius to put his next move together, he was going to ask the genius about his favorite behavioral cases (if he had looked over any, which Derek had a feeling he had). He was also going to try and apologize, Derek didn’t know if he upset the guy about the domestic terrorism unit question, but it was just plain curiosity. He wasn’t trying to upset or offend, he was just curious. He had no open cases, after all, what was he supposed to do? Finish logging his cases like a normal person? No, and he had already had that done (the last thing he had needed was Spencer putting them through VICAP, which he did at that insane speed of an hour). So Derek was making work for himself, investigating this genius he had never heard of before.

Spencer had made it back to his way too small office, practically shaking from an overwhelming feeling that he couldn’t pinpoint as he did his best to shut the door behind him (which sadly took a few tries, as his hands were shaking a bit too much for him to get a hold on the handle. He ended up pushing the door shut with the toe of his shoe instead).

Was it anxiety? Stress? Anger? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t angry at anyone, more at the bureau as a whole. He was mad he was demoted, but he had been living with that for six months now, the time frame for being reasonably mad had long been over by now.

But as soon as Derek had asked him why he was out of domestic terrorism, something flipped inside Spencer’s head. He never had to explain why he left before. Not to his mom in his letters to her, he just told her he was transferring to a different unit- to which she said that was good, and the less scary work he had to do was better for him (and for her piece of mind).

And when he had met Garcia, he didn’t have to explain himself, she never really asked. Hotchner or Strauss must’ve told her in advance why Spencer was now going to work alongside her and Kevin, but she kept her curiosities surrounding Spencer’s career path to herself. Kevin was the same as Garcia in that regard, he never asked. And Spencer wasn’t that close to Kevin, anyways. All their conversations revolved around computer work, or the occasional conversation about Doctor Who. But that was it, it never got personal.

Point is, Reid never had to explain to anyone why he was out of domestic terrorism. No one asked, no one dug deep. No one was curious. And Spencer couldn’t just answer Derek by saying; “They kicked me out because I didn’t click, I didn’t have any field hours. And because I wasn’t important enough to them to be saved. They let me go, budget cuts.” No, Spencer couldn’t say that.

It’s not that Spencer couldn’t admit defeat. He could, it’s just in this case, these people didn’t need to know about his defeats. He was working with them for a week. A week, that’s all. He didn’t want to tell them his life story, he didn’t want to tell them all the bad parts about his life. He didn’t want them to know about his failures, especially this one. It embarrassed him. The less the BAU agents knew about him, the better, in his opinion.

Spencer was standing in his office, still having not moved from where he pushed the door shut after he had entered. He just needed a second, he was still slightly shaking.

Maybe he should start seeing a therapist again. But maybe not, it’s not like he was having an attack of any kind. He was just overwhelmed. The thought of explaining why he left domestic terrorism was too much, the anxiety behind the explanation, then the embarrassment, not to mention his anger towards the bureau, and the stupid stress he felt of his daily job of being a glorified IT worker- it was just too much.

Spencer took a deep breath in. The shaking was slowing down ever so slightly, a good sign. He stepped towards his desk chair, sitting down while he kept trying to slow his breathing. God, he felt pitiful. He was shaking over having to explain himself, and while his reasoning was valid for not wanting to explain- this response his body was doing was not normal.

Spencer just kept breathing, counting off the digits of pi he could remember as he went. Numbers always helped him clear his head.

Spencer had continued counting, all the way to the forty-seventh digit of pi, before he fully felt calm again. Good, he breathed a sigh of relief as he tapped back onto his computers.

Now, hopefully, he could get some work done.

And Spencer did, he was able to help transfer a bunch of completed cases to Strauss, before another knock at his office door pulled him out of his work pace.

“Yes?” He said, turning around in his chair once again to see who was at the door. This time, it was Kevin who pushed the door open slowly as he entered, stepping in a bit to the room, but leaving the door open. “Hey, how’s your first day with the BAU going?” He asked curiously, just making small talk. He was probably trying to get out of work he was being told to do, either that or he was on break and bored.

“It, uh, it’s going okay. Nothing’s happened, really. I met agent Prentiss and agent Morgan.” He told Kevin casually as he turned back to his computer to finish logging in the files information, he knew Kevin wouldn’t mind if he turned away to do work while they talked. Kevin knew he was good at multitasking.

“Oh dude, Morgan-“ Kevin groaned, shutting the door behind him quickly as he entered the room to lean against Spencer’s desk, so Spencer could keep working and see Kevin. “Garcia loves him, and he’s a nice guy. But should I be jealous?”

Spencer wasn’t good in this conversational aspect. Ask him what the most poisonous frog in North America is, and he could answer you no problem (it’s the poisonous dart frog, no surprise there.) but this? Spencer couldn’t navigate this. So he took Kevin’s question scientifically.

“...I don’t think so. Garcia is a good person, she wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt someone. Especially you.” Spencer answered after a moment of thinking, turning to look at Kevin to gauge his reaction, “Right,” Kevin nodded in agreement, as that answer did make sense to him, “But should I-“ Kevin started, then stopped himself quickly.

He smiled down at Spencer sheepishly, “Sorry. I know you aren’t a therapist, my bad, man.” He apologized simply, Spencer just gave him a polite small smile in return, it’s all he could muster. “How did the meeting with IT go?” Reid asked, changing conversation topics easily.

“Stupid. I know how to fix my keyboard, so does anyone else here with basic understanding of computers. I bet the janitors could do it.” That elicited a small laugh from Spencer in return, as it was true. Fixing a keyboard definitely wasn’t complicated. It was just stupid nonsense that Kevin had to talk to IT, but that’s what they dealt with, day in and day out.

Kevin left quickly after that, he had just been on break, and before Spencer knew it kevin had to go running off to the child abduction unit to help them with their computers.

Though Derek had devised a plan on what he was going to say to spencer, he still had no clue how he should go back to the genius and start the conversation. He had no work related reason to go back, all of the files that needed to go through VICAP were sent.

Maybe Derek should get a paper cut, ask for the doctors help? No, a paper cut doesn’t require a doctors expertise. Not to mention he wasn’t even sure if Spencer was a medical doctor.

So Derek was stuck, looking over files at his desk that he most definitely was done with, as he messed with pens on his desk absentmindedly.

Emily noticed his mood shift into restless boredom pretty quickly, but she had her own work to do, too. So as she watched him tap away on his desk, she was doing her best to work. She had to get these cases filed correctly, after all.

Her urge to stay focused on work didn’t last long, though. Derek’s mood was just too much to not pay attention to, she would rather talk to him than do file work, anyways.

“Okay- what’s wrong with you? Drink too much coffee?” She asked him as she set down her case file onto her desk, Derek stopped tapping his pen to make eye contact with her. “Hm?” He asked simply, he hadn’t heard her, he was absorbed with thinking of what to do to get to Spencer and talk to him.

“I said,” Prentiss said, as she leaned forward a bit in her chair, “What’s with you?” Yeah, she was totally more interested in bugging Morgan than doing her cases. Derek just shrugged, he wasn’t about to tell her what he was actually thinking. That would just make her even more sure that Derek thought Spencer was cute, which wasn’t the case. He just was curious about the guy, and now he had struck a nerve in spencer, so he had to make it right and apologize. It was a normal thought process to have, but he knew Prentiss wouldn’t see it that way.

“Nothing,” Derek lied easily, gesturing to his finished case files as he spoke, “It’s just.. finished all my cases, and I can’t leave yet. So, I’m bored.”

Emily took his answer and nodded, “Wanna do mine?” She joked with him, gesturing to the short stack she had on her desk. Derek chuckled in response, shaking his head slowly.

“I don’t know ‘bout all of that.” He said, the stack, though short, had at least fifteen files, and as much Derek was bored (which was true, he was just stuck thinking.) he wasn’t bored enough to warrant work.

“Aw, c’mon, help a girl out. Here.” Prentiss said, grabbing a few off the top and passing them across her desk to his, setting them on the edge of his desk. “Just do these for me, please.”

Derek nodded, giving in. “Okay, sure. What’s left on these to do?” “I don’t think much, just finish filling out the descriptions on how we profiled the unsub, then get them into VICAP for me.” Emily specified, looking back to the rest of the stack of files.

VICAP. Derek couldn’t get them into VICAP, he didn’t know VICAP well enough. But Spencer did, and it wouldn’t take Spencer long. Perfect. He now had an excuse to get back to Spencer and talk to him more.

Derek just nodded, even though a small amount of excitedeness was now growing inside of him. Because now he had an excuse to keep talking to this mysterious genius.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He told Prentiss simply, she gave him a smile in return, along with a “thanks”, before turning back to the file she had sat down on her desk originally in favor of talking to Derek.

Now, all Derek had to do was fill these cases out. Easy.

And it was easy, as expected. Derek got them filled out no problem, writing the profile explanation had been something he’d been doing for years.

And it was always easy for him to do, it was just explaining the order of events- from ‘we spoke to local law enforcement’ to ‘we surveyed the area the victim was found in’ to ‘we looked at recovered evidence at the scene’, all the way to the end goal which usually was something like; ‘we figured our unsub was most likely a male in his 30’s with a menial part time job and bad temper’.

It was that, rinse and repeat. Except of course, every case was different. But the bullet points were all oddly similar.

But still, it didn’t matter. Derek had a reason to go back to Spencer now, to apologize, say “sorry I struck a nerve, doc.” And he wanted to. After all, he didn’t wanna piss off the computer genius the BAU was employing for this week.

So, Derek finished the case files as quickly as he could humanly manage, before making his way out of the bullpen. Thankfully Prentiss wasn’t there to ask him where he was going, as she was in a meeting with Hotchner. And double bonus, J.J. and Rossi were both at some profiling seminar for today. So the bullpen was practically empty. It was beautiful.

So, Derek made his way out of the glass doors, down the hall, back to Spencer’s office. He hoped to redeem himself of his earlier fuck up.

Spencer had his soundproof headphones on, totally oblivious to the outside world. After all, he had finished all his work for the day, now he just got to read, just as he had hoped for. So while Bach played through his headphones, his mind was focused on the thick Russian translation copy of the crucible. He was excited to see how Russian people viewed such an American phenomenon of the Salem Witch Trials.

He was ecstatic to say the least, translating the Russian letters to English in his head at lightning speed while he kept reading along. It was only when he was tapped on the shoulder that he got pulled out of his methodical pace. He pulled off his headphones as fast as humanly possible, turning around in time to see agent Derek Morgan back in his office. Crap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“ Derek started, gesturing at the thick book in Spencer’s hands. “Oh- um, you’re fine. Sorry.” Spencer spoke quickly as he set the book down on his desk, leaving his headphones wrapped around his neck awkwardly, Bach’s light piano melodies could be heard very softly.

“What’re you reading?” Morgan asked Spencer politely, “The Russian translation of The Crucible. I’ve already read The Crucible, but knowing the Russian word choices and ways they choose to phrase such a strictly American experience is something fascinating to me, I notice that their word choices often-“ Spencer started on a tangent, only stopping when he looked up to see Derek’s face in the classic stare many people gave Spencer over his lifetime. A mixture of ‘slow down’ and ‘what the hell’ and ‘all I did was ask a question, I didn’t wanna hear him rant’.

Spencer slowed himself down, “Sorry. Uh-“ he looked down at Morgan’s hands, there were files. Perfect. “Have work for me?” Spencer asked politely, Reid’s swift change in conversation seemed to surprise Derek as he gave him a perplexed look.

“Uh, yeah- these just have to go into VICAP.” He said as he handed them over to Spencer. There were only four this time, Spencer could probably finish these in fourty five minutes, an hour tops. That meant Spencer would still have plenty of time to read, perfect.

“Okay, I can do that.” Spencer nodded as he took the files from Derek’s now outstretched arm. Derek let his arm fall back to his side once Spencer had taken the files and set them on his desk, next to his now empty coffee thermos and computer mouse.

“Hey- I also just wanted to say sorry about asking about your work in domestic terrorism earlier. Wasn’t my place to ask.” Derek spoke up awkwardly, after Spencer had started to look over the files. Spencer looked back up at Morgan when he said that, though. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

He never had to explain himself before, and now someone was apologizing to him. Normally, people wouldn’t. What was Spencer supposed to do now? He hadn’t ever been in a situation like this before. He felt like his IQ was going back down drastically, and not just because Derek was an attractive male, standing in Spencer’s office, wearing a short sleeved t-shirt that showed off his muscles in a way no one should ever show them off.

Well, it was partly that. But Spencer was doing his best to ignore that part of his brain. But now his entire brain was in the pitfall. Not sure what to do.

So Spencer muttered a ‘thank you’ and nodded quickly, pulling eyes back down to the files and not on agent Derek Morgan, because Spencer didn’t know what to do.

They were stuck in an awkward silence, for what felt like forever. But Derek didn’t want to leave it his way, that’s the last thing he wanted. After all, Spencer was a friend of Garcia’s, which makes them acquaintances by default. Plus, this guy was gonna be running the computer tech side for the next week or so of the BAU. He couldn’t make it awkward, what if a case happened and they had to go out there and work together?

Derek was overthinking this, but only because he cares so much about Garcia. That was his reasoning on why. Not like his reasoning mattered, though. He still hadn’t said anything to Spencer past the awkward apology. He had to say something new, now. Either that, or he should just tuck tail and leave Dr. Spencer Reid’s office that was the size of a walk in closet.

Derek wasn’t about to dip out, though. So he spoke. “I saw in your file that you worked with agent Jason Gideon, what was he like?”

Spencer’s eyes went back up to Morgan’s again. “He taught me a lot, he’s very simple and to the point. I thought you knew him- since you’re on the BAU?” Spencer responded to Derek’s question with a question.

Derek shrugged as he made himself more comfortable, leaning up against the file cabinet that was behind him. He was hoping to stay for a while and talk, and it seemed he was getting that. Spencer watched him as he did so, “I only met him once before he retired, I’m more familiar with Rossi and Hotch.” He spoke in return.

“I’ve read Rossi’s books, they’re phenomenal. I’ve wanted to approach him and talk about his work on some of the cases he’s done- but I never get the opportunity to.”

“You’re working with the entire BAU, you’ve got the opportunity now. You realize that, right?” Derek asked Spencer curiously. Spencer nodded, “I do. But I checked his schedule, he’s at a seminar right now:”

Derek chuckled, he didn’t know Spencer well enough to make presumptions about the guy, and he had agreed with the BAU a long time ago not to profile each other- and by that logic, he had also agreed not to profile Spencer. Not that he’d want to, though. That’s just not fair.

But oddly, Spencer checking Rossi’s schedule sounded like something this guy would do. He’s too smart to be working as a technical analyst in a small ass office. Derek still wanted to ask him so badly ‘why are you here?’. But he knew he shouldn’t. So he redirected the conversation again; “What’s some of your favorite behavioral cases?”

Spencer hadn’t meant to keep Morgan in his office for over an hour, explaining in depth about his favorite behavioral cases. It just happened on accident.

Usually Spencer stopped himself when he rambled, but Derek didn’t seem to mind. And once Spencer started talking, it was near impossible to stop. It was only when Prentiss knocked on the office door, peeking her head inside- did Spencer realize how much time he had taken away from Derek.

“Hey, I was looking for you, Morgan. You finish those files?” She asked him innocently, “I did, just getting our new tech analyst to put them in for me.” He responded easily, Spencer looked back down at the case files. Yeah, he needed to do them.

“I’ll get started on them now,” Spencer nodded, “Sorry.” He told Derek after Prentiss had left, leaving the office door cracked open.

“No worries. I enjoyed talking to you. Hope we do more work together.” Derek told him with a small smile. Crap, Spencer didn’t like this guy one bit. He was too nice, too handsome, too charming. This was a dumpster fire of a situation.

Thankfully, this seemed to be the end of it, at least for now. These were Prentiss’ files. He could finish these and leave them on her desk. No more interaction with Derek Morgan, which is definitely what Spencer needed.

“I’ll see you, doc. Thanks again.” Derek told him, that smile still on his face as he exited, shutting the door behind him. Spencer didn’t respond as Morgan left, he was just feeling his face blushing red, goddamnit. He was going to curse at Penelope garcia for having such an attractive best friend. This just wasn’t fair. This was going to be a problem, a nagging, buzzing fly around Spencer’s mind until the week was over.

Thankfully this was just a week long ordeal. Spencer could handle that. He wouldn’t know what to do if he was a permanent worker on the BAU.

Reid brought himself back to focus, working on the files. Which he did at record speed, like always.

“Dude, I was looking for you for like- an hour. Were you with the doctor the entire time?” Prentiss asked Derek curiously as soon as he sat down in his desk chair again.

Morgan shrugged, “I gave him your files, we were just talking.”

“For an hour? About what?” Prentiss asked him, surprised because Derek wasn’t that big on long conversations.

“Spencer used to work with agent Gideon. He told me about that.” “No shit, really? That’s cool.” Prentiss muttered, definitely a tinge of jealously in her voice, “I’m gonna ask him for whatever tips Gideon taught him.”

“Maybe I know those tips.” Derek joked, wagging his eyebrows up and down as a way to piss emily off. She rolled her eyes at him, “No way you remember all he said. You were probably too busy staring at his face.”

“For the last time, he isn’t cute.” “Uh, yes he is.” Prentiss scoffed at Derek for such a weak rebuttal. Now it was Morgan’s turn to roll his eyes, “I’m done talking to you. I got your files done, Prentiss.”

Now, emily was sarcastic; “Oh and thank god you did four of my fifteen files. I never would’ve finished without you- seriously, thank you so much Morgan.”

Derek just continued rolling his eyes, deciding to roll around in his office chair to face the other way, facing his filing cabinent. “What’re you even doing?” Prentiss asked him, “Ignoring you.” He replied easily, eliciting a giggle from Prentiss, before hearing her reply; “Whatever man.”

———————————————————————

taglist: so far just @electricsockhead bc they commented a while back they wanted to know of any more chapters coming out. If you want to be on my taglist send me a message :)

#fanfic #fic #writing #Dr. Spencer Reid #Moreid #Derek Morgan #criminal minds #cm #BAU #Emily Prentiss #Aaron Hotchner #jennifer jareau #Penelope Garcia #angst #Spencer Specific Fics #Spencer Reid #criminal minds fanfiction #this is for the anon who asked abt this fic #I see u bb

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darthwheezely · 4 years ago

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Fredcanons!

Hi Fred Weasley makes me happy so like why not make random headcanons about him? Honestly? Yk? And like this will be the first of many parts I bet, if you want me to do other characters lmk! Anyway, this is gonna be long but honestly I could care less, enjoy fellas

Warnings: diet smut, high calorie diabetes inducing soft Fred, light angst

It’s practically canon at this point but the way this man works with numbers is absolutely insane.

It’s also kind of sexy but I don’t make the rules-

It’s been said before by someone on here that he’s the guy that impresses his dates by being able to automatically calculate tips for dinner dates and the like on the spot, and I adore that so much

Which means, words and abstract concepts can be a bit difficult for our lil ginger golden retriever. As we saw in Order, his handwriting needs a bit of work and so does his grammar - it’s something he’s really self conscious about, too

This boy is obsessed with American baseball

I really don’t know what it is, I think it’s because the men on the diamond hitting a fast flying ball reminds him of Quidditch or maybe it’s the sounds of American girls cheering all of these robust men on-

Regardless, it’s a thing and he loves it, period

Fred finds it horrendously embarrassing, but he had an imaginary friend growing up

Let’s be specific, an imaginary dog. Named Boris.

Molly has basically made it clear enough that raising a large amount of large boys under one roof was kind of like manning an animal shelter already damn molly which led to Fred being hopelessly in despair

So jokes on them, he got his own dog. A big, loud, Australian Shepherd named Boris.

So imagine this lanky five year old like refusing to eat a meal until Boris gets his first and demanding that he takes his own baths because “erm, Boris doesn’t want to bathe with Georgie, mum, he said he smells”

This lead to Fred being told he smells but that’s neither here nor there

Fred had Boris until he was about 7 and then he lost him while playing with the gnomes

This lead Molly to buying Fred and George a goldfish named Boris II: The Return of Boris and they referred to him as that. The whole title. Every time.

Fred was also that kid in middle school (1st-3rd year) that was like lightly obsessed with Canada

“Is it even real?”

“Jesus, Freddie are you even real?”

George stumped him with that one

Freddie became quite the ladies man come 3rd and 4th year, btw

And by ladies man I mean-

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven...-“

“Oh god, no please don’t say it please don’t say it- (George)

“-because I, too, am still recovering from the impact ;)”

All jokes and funny business side, he did start learning girls found him hot shit and honestly?

He didn’t know how to process that.

He’s so used to being the goofy guy or the cute guy from whatever class or just one of the Weasley’s that like-

Him? Attractive?

Well, shit, better start acting like it then huh?

And thus was born the personality we know Fred to have today

Not saying it’s all manufactured, but he definitely isn’t as 100% cocky and impulsive as everyone would like him to be

More often than not, he’s kind of a nervous person. Would he tell anyone that? Absolutely not, he’s got a reputation to uphold

But he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t found himself laying awake at night wondering if his pranks are cool enough, does his mom like them enough, does George think he’s enough

Does he think he’s enough?

Honestly, he battles with this for a lot of his school time basically up until the shop opens and starts running

Because that is time where he does really begin to blossom as a person in every facet

There’s something about walking into the shop and seeing a gaggle of kids know your name and want to be like you and know you that makes him feel like he did something right

But anyway back to Ladies Man Fred Weasley (please I rolled my eyes so hard)

He is an experienced fella in bed, this is also pretty canon

I mean look, he’s got Bill Freaking Weasley as his older brother

Any questions he ever had he asked Bill

“Look, Freddie, they’re gonna want you to find this thing called the clit-“

“I’m sorry the what?”

“The clitoris, Fredward, take note they’ll dump you on sight if you can’t find it.”

“...”

“Bud, that was a joke-“

“*exhales strongly* OH THANK GOD”

He’s also a consent king. Period.

Consent about literally everything when it comes to sex, if y’all have never slept togsther or have a routine of what you do, expect him to be consistent-“

“Is this okay?”

“Am I hurting you, love?”

“Please tell me if something’s wrong, okay?”

Fred’s favorite thing in the goddamn world is kisses

So many kisses

Please lord Jesus hes in need of kisses

Forehead kisses, arm kisses, leg kisses, eyebrow kisses - if it’s on your body and it’s accessible to him, he’ll kiss it I swear

So please do yourself a favor and kiss him. Please

Or I will-

If you use she/her pronouns, expect this boy to be protective af if y’all are friends

Fred is 100% the guy you can feel totally comfortable giving your drink to at parties

He waits by the bathroom to make sure you’re okay too

Basically just an angel that is all

#fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #hp #harry potter

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comradeacerbus · 3 years ago

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Miraak Headcannons (for fanfic)

Okay, so, I’ve been planning a Skyrim fic for some time now. I started one, but it fell through due to a lack of proper planning. Now that I know what I’m doing, I’m gonna try again! I’m just posting some notes on everyone’s favorite jackass here because I needed something to post. Obviously, since this is my fic, I’ll be referencing my granola-crunching pacifist Dragonborn, Haldis Ragnardottir.

Bethesda didn’t give us much to work with but that just makes it more interesting. I’m just getting a feel for his personality now so I can keep him consistent.

* Miraak was already getting up there in age by the time his revolt against Alduin fell through, so he’s a bit old and grey now. Maybe in his sixties physically, though he looks more past his use by date because of how Oblivion has affected his outward appearance.

* Stupidly tall because, yknow, Atmorans.

* He’s a dirty old man. He doesn’t come off that way initially, but internally, Miraak is a pervert. While he won’t get physical with women, he won’t hesitate to say something pervy.

* Just because he’s a bit pervy doesn’t mean he’s promiscuous. He certainly has game, I imagine, but he feels he’s too old to go throwing his weight around. It’s mostly for his own entertainment

* He loves to make people uncomfortable, especially our little baby Dwagonbown. Constantly picking on her, saying weird pervy shit, just constantly flustering her for his own amusement.

* A really good talker, can worm his way out of any bad situation with his words. He’s also a natural politician. He can make any insane remark and easily justify it to anyone who’s willing to listen to him.

* He’s no liar though. Not unlike Odahviing, he might not tell the whole truth, but he won’t tell much in the way of lies. He’ll just manipulate the truth. It’s no wonder he was so able to lead a cult, really.

* Literate in multiple languages. Obviously the Imperial language spoke in Tamriel and Dovahzul, but he is also fluent in Daedric and has dabbled in Falmer and Dwemer dialects as well, though he dislikes the cultures themselves as an Atmoran. He probably started looking into them out of sheer boredom in Apocrypha.

* He’s definitely looked into more than just languages in his time in Oblivion. He’s looked into various magics, histories of ancient civilizations, Aedra, Daedra, trades, and everything in between. In other words, Miraak knows his shit about a lot of things.

* In spite of how much he knows about a wide range of subjects, a jack of all trades is a master of none. He’s not talented in all the fields he’s studied, but he’s honed his main skills to a fine point. Namely the art of shouting, various styles of swordplay, and the main schools of magic.

* He frowns very strongly upon thieving and sneaking about. Subtly is one thing, but being sneaky and deceitful is a whole nother ball game to him. He dislikes the idea of assassinations, especially the use of poison. He much prefers the ancient Atmoran-Nordic tradition of openly challenging an authority figure for his seat.

* Under all the arrogance, Miraak actually does have some wisdom to him, and he does learn from his and others’ mistakes. He likes to pretend that he didn’t change after narrowly escaping Apocrypha, simply because he doesn’t want to admit that what he did was wrong, but he certainly has changed some of his views.

* Simply speaking of Oblivion’s Princes makes him uncomfortable because he wants nothing to do with them now, though he’d never admit that he’s afraid. He might be garbage in a lot of ways, but he’s definitely still human.

* Apocrypha has most certainly disfigured him, as well as the night Vahlok and his legion of Dragons burned his temple to the ground. He has some burns scars on his chest and some smaller ones on his face. They no doubt would have been worse, were it not for the metal of his mask. Apocrypha has made his skin pasty and his hair white and nasty looking no matter how much he cleans himself or walks around in the daylight. His sclera are also darkened permanently. He doesn’t wear his mask anymore, and instead prefers his hood when he returns to Tamriel, but he won’t usually show his face to anyone, aside from the Dragonborn, because he’s ashamed of what his choices have done to his body.

* He’s of an ectomorph body type. He’s super tall and towers over Haldis, but he’s not especially muscular. He’s got the broad shoulders of an early Nord, but he’s actually quite skinny. I imagine he tries his best to bulk up with his robes. The other cult leaders most certainly poked fun at him for him.

* After he and Haldis bury the hatchet and accept that they’re stuck together, I imagine he starts to see her as a niece/granddaughter/little sister figure. She doesn’t know much about shouting combatively, and he knows that her overall lack of fighting experience is likely to get her killed, so he begins teaching her from the ground up. It’s initially a thing out of necessity, but he later grows to enjoy it. Not like he’d admit it.

* He may have changed a little since his imprisonment, but he’ll still keep his pride forever. It’s what got him stuck with Herma-Mora, and it’s what got him through so much time in Oblivion.

* The main thing he was worried about for the time of his imprisonment was that he’d turn into a Seeker, but his will as a Dragonborn is likely what kept him from turning, so he’ll cling to his arrogance and his stubbornness till death does him part from Mundus.

* Yeah, he’s old fashioned and very stubborn, but he’s not unreasonable. He’ll listen to one’s argument, but with how well-spoken he is, he usually “wins” the debate, ultimately.

* Even if he is reasonable in the realm of debate, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even if it means using or hurting people to do so. This is a result of his inner Dovah. Haldis finds this rather insufferable and it’s one of the main reasons as to why they fight.

* When he gets drunk, he’ll sort of “forget” it’s not the Merithic Era anymore and will start speaking to people in Dovahzul and then get pissy when only Haldis can understand him. He doesn’t normally like to drink in his ripe old age, though, so it’s not something that happens often.

* A similar thing will also happen when he gets angry. He never loses his temper, but when he gets frustrated, he’ll start belting out Dovahzul rapidly.

* He may also speak Dovahzul to Haldis when trying to be subtle. For example, Haldis has to deal a lot in Skyrim’s politics as a diplomat, so if Miraak needs to tell her something or remind her to say something, he’ll tell her in Dovahzul so she doesn’t look dumb.

* The Dovahzul he speaks is a different dialect, though, given their difference in age, so things have been lost in translation from time time, resulting in small, humorous mishaps. He also finds Haldis’s accent when speaking Dovahzul to be very irritating, and mocks her for it quite a bit, usually saying that she sounds like she has a speech impediment.

* As her accent gets better, in his almighty opinion, they’ll have entire conversations together in Dovahzul when they’re alone, like out on the road or something.

I might reblog and take on some more here later. This is just some basic junk that’s not really organized. Also I did not proofread but shhhh

#ao3 fanfic #planning #character notes #Miraak #headcannons #Skyrim #I don’t understand why I have a thing for Peter Jessop’s characters but that’s okay whatever #Dragonborn #yayyyy

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s1utspeare · 4 years ago

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DMBJ Characters as Shakespeare Leads

I got into it in the notes of a moonfall echo post and now I’m going insane about what Shakespeare Characters each DMBJ person vibes the most with who do I blame for this

ANYWAY WELCOME TO MY LATEST NONSENSE THESE ARE MY PERSONAL OPINIONS AND ALSO BASED ENTIRELY ON VIBES ALONE

WU XIE as VIOLA from Twelfth Night

okay bear with me, I know this is a strong one coming right out the gate. But the GAY ENERGY. the ATTEMPTING TO BE SOMEONE THEY’RE NOT ALL THE TIME. the sheer amount of LOVE INSIDE. also this bitch spends SO much time in the series dressed up as other people like??? mans loves cosplaying except the cosplay is for Life and Death Situations. also the love triangles are hilarious. plus they’re both cute and gay and i love them

ZHANG QILING as CORIOLANUS from Coriolanus

did i choose these two because they’re arguably the hottest characters in each of their canon? maybe. also Cori Boy is the only one violent enough to even come CLOSE to xiao-ge’s deadly energy. I could have done Hamlet, who is the only other real Shakespearian swordsman, but Hamlet talks too much. also something about the desperation and side-switching that appeals to me. OH THEY BOTH HAVE GOOD TITS yeah that’s a good reason too

WANG PANGZI as THE FOOL from King Lear

okay before any of you come for me in the notes, the Fool is arguably the greatest Shakespearean character. They’re only CALLED the Fool cause it’s their job, but actually they’re the only one with any braincells in the play. Both start out as the archetypal comic relief character and then become the heart and soul of the story. The Fool makes a bunch of jokes and also prophesies the end and possibly is magic?? who’s to say. But anyway Pangzi also does all of those things and I feel like he should get to wear a funny hat. plus the Fool just has to deal with idiots trying to take his job by being clowns for free, and Pangzi can relate to that energy I think

LIU SANG as ARIEL from The Tempest

If it weren’t for just the SHEER amount of creepy magical energy they both exude, it’s the loyalty and sacrifice that does it for me. Not only are they both Ethereal Beings, there’s also a lot of sound ties to Ariel in The Tempest, so like it checks out. Plus they both Crouch. Also I just want Liu Sang to be able to smite some bitches sometimes. That would be good for him (it’s NOT because they’re both my favorite characters IT’S NOT)

Bai Haotian as Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

So this is not only because i have a thing for casting women as Puck, but also because they fit so well together!! like. they both have crushes on people they perceive to be in authority! they both like being helpful! they both should get to be a little feral and also do magic! like Xiao Bai would be SUCH a cute Puck and if Wu Xie weren’t such a dumbass he’d make a good Oberon but alas. He is a Dumbass. so Xiao Bai is Puck but Wu Xie doesn’t get to be in Midsummer because he is simultaneously Too Dumb and Not Dumb Enough.

LI CU as PRINCE HAL from Henry IV Part I

sorry for more Tom Hiddleston pics but he’s genuinely like the best Shakespearian actor I’ve ever seen, and he’s done it all. Anyway Li Cu is Hal but specifically Hal from Part I because Part II isn’t as good and Hal is basically Dead when we get to Henry V so it has to be Part I. Anyway. Troubled youth who doesn’t want to do what his father wants so he basically gets kidnapped and raised by an older man who is full of Trickery and also Witty Remarks? The Best Friends Trios? The evolution into a Hero in Their Own Right? These guys are perfect for each other. Also I go feral about both of them at any given moment

A-NING as LADY MACBETH from Macbeth

YES I used A-Ning from Time Raiders because I think she’s the hottest version of A-Ning WHAT ABOUT IT. Anyway A-Ning could be no one other than the scheming girlboss Lady Macbeth. They’re both Morally Ambiguous but Fuck they look so good doing it. Can And Will manipulate literally any man into doing what they want. Su Nan was also a contender for Lady Macbeth because she resonates very strongly with the “Out, damned spot!” monologue, but she respects authority too much. A-Ning would not hesitate to kill the bitchass king of Scotland so that her family could ascend to the throne and I love that for her

ZHANG DADDY RISHAN as HAMLET from Hamlet

OKAY BEFORE ANYONE SAYS “brigid i know u chose them because ur a simp for zhang daddy rishan and ur a simp for hamlet stop being so predictable” LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE COULD DO IT THO??? LIKE??? ok they both are setting their life purpose on the bedrock of an older mentor figure’s death... they both have to deal with conspirators trying to usurp them... both the Ultimate Tragic Hero and Make Me Cry Every Damn Day... both are torn away from their nerd boyfriends by death... they both live in my head rent free... I know Zhang Daddy Rishan does not talk as much as Hammie Boy but I 100% think that there’s a CONSTANT monologue going on in his head at all times. Also the Am I A Coward speech? That’s our Daddy Rishan to the MAX. No one look at me or im gonna start making picsets of him with Hamlet quotes superimposed over it I swear to GOD

and finally....

WU SANXING as IAGO from Othello

Not only does this picture from the NTL production of Othello represent what I want to do to Sanshu every time I see him onscreen, but these bitches are two of The Fakest Hos I have ever come across. It’s a love-hate relationship with them most of the time; you hate them for what they’re doing to the heroes, but they’re so good at the Trickery that you can’t help but admire them for it a little bit. They can, have, and will sell their family members for a single Lick of Power and Wealth. And yeah, you could MAKE an argument for them to be Good or at the very least Morally Ambiguous but they’re both giant dicks and deep down in our hearts we all know it.

#so welcome to my hell #it's an ambiguous amalgamation of all of my interests and they only sort of interlap #anyway i have a lot of feelings about Shakespeare and a lot of feelings about DMBJ #if u have any questions or would like me to assign a different character a Shakespeare-sona #or would like me to assign YOU a Shakespeare-sona #please drop by my ask box #thank u and goodnight #dmbj #dmemebj #the lost tomb #billy shakes #i did not have to do this and yet

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Stars Aligned Chapter 2

Here’s the thing. Danny knew this was a dumb decision. At least as dumb as stepping into the ghost portal (but at least he’d gotten some nifty powers out of that, hey?). Whatever reason his bio-dad had for chucking him out the door within days of his birth couldn’t be good. Putting himself within reach of the man… Yeah. Not his brightest thought.

(Not to mention the wizards. And witches. That was so weird, how they had two different names for essentially the same thing. Then again… actor, actress… Why were people so weird?)

On the other hand, twin brother. Twin brother who had to live with aforementioned baby-abandoning bio-dad. Twin brother who wasn’t allowed to visit America. Or, Danny suspected, a family of squibs.

Yeah.

So, here he was. Getting everything in order for a wizard passport and wizard international travel, because bio-family refused to even look at an airport.

Danny had a suspicion that, based on how they spelled the word and a few other comments in that particular letter, that they weren’t entirely clear on what an airport was.

Fun.

On the other hand, in comparison to the actual, normal, legal passport he’d gotten, just in case bio-family left him somewhere, wizard passports were much, much easier to get. The wait times were practically nonexistent. He could, in theory, get the passport on the same day he traveled. All that was needed was proof he was a wizard and his adoption papers.

Of course, ‘proof he was a wizard’ actually meant ‘wand.’ Wands being something they used as personal ID, despite the fact that they were a) sticks, and b) didn’t actually carry any personally identifiable information. Sure, Jack said that they were somehow connected to their owners, but unless there were, like, giant books of details about everyone’s wands at every place that would, conceivably, need ID, and had people trained to identify all those tiny little characteristics… Danny just couldn’t see how it would work.

Danny’s current theory was that all wizards were just insane, which meant that his twin would most likely fit right in with the rest of Danny’s family, right as soon as Danny figured out how to legally kidnap him.

(No, Danny didn’t have a ghostly Obsession, and it definitely wasn’t family related. He was only half-ghost, after all. Why do you ask?)

Anyway. Wizard passport. Wizard ID. Wizard sticks.

Wands.

Wands meant a nerve-wracking trip to the nearest wizarding town with Jack. Evidently, he’d lived there a couple of years after his parents sent him away from Britain when he was around fourteen because of ‘the war.’

Abruptly, many of Jack’s stories about his childhood made more sense.

(It had always been something of a joke between Jazz and Danny to try and figure out what ‘the war’ was supposed to be, and if Jack’s parents had just… Conned him into thinking he’d eaten horse meat. For some reason. Even if the Fentons hadn’t seemed like that kind of people, no matter how eccentric.)

(Also, evidently Jazz and Danny had never met Jack’s biological parents, who were not named Fenton, although his adopted mother was also a witch.)

(Why was everything so complicated?)

The “wizarding community” was a small town accessible only by a train line invisible to ‘no-majs.’ And also flying brooms. Which wizards used. Danny had seen the train before, not realizing that he wasn’t supposed to. Several times. Usually while flying to Wisconsin to deal with whatever Vlad had done that week.

If Danny was a wizard, was Vlad? Was being half-ghost somehow tied up in being magical? What did that mean for Dani?

(Hey, maybe this whole affair could be used to bring Dani into the family safely. Who was to say that he didn’t have a secret twin sister?)

Danny could admit that the town itself, which had almost a Ghost Zone vibe with how all the architecture seemed to be from fifty plus to a hundred years ago and also the physics breaking magic, was sort of cool. It was… cute, he guessed. He didn’t really like how everyone was staring at Jack, their clothes were just as weird, but it wasn’t a new thing. People always stared at Jack.

That’s what happened when you wore hazard-orange jumpsuits twenty-four seven.

The shops all had names out of a fantasy novel, and at one point they got turned around and wound up on a residential street where they had to ask for directions, but eventually they made it to ‘Willoughby’s Wand Emporium.’

The interior of Willoughby’s Wand Emporium reminded Danny strongly of a shoe store. The shelves were all lined with boxes of approximately that size, and the employees all carried measuring tape. It also smelled like a shoe store: musty and dry, with a hint of polish. Or maybe it was wood varnish? Or some kind of paint.

A young woman bounced up. “Hi, how can we help you today? Replacement wand?”

“First time, actually,” said Jack.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the woman. “You’re just so tall for your age.”

“I’m fourteen,” said Danny.

The woman began to turn red.

“He was missed,” said Jack. “It happens.” He smiled, but it looked far more strained than usual.

“Oh,” said the woman. “Ahem. Well, if you’ll come right this way, I can start taking measurements, and start trying out wands. The wand chooses the wizard, they say!”

“Okay,” said Danny, shrugging. That was… interesting. Were the wands sentient? Did that somehow make them acceptable IDs?

Seemed really weird to keep sentient things stored in boxes.

… Said the kid who stored sentient beings in a soup thermos.

A really high-tech soup thermos.

Didn’t make it better.

Except he didn’t keep them in the thermos indefinitely. Except for Dan.

Danny didn’t know if the wizards kept the wands in boxes indefinitely, either. Maybe he should stop assuming things. That had gotten him in trouble with ghosts more than once.

The woman took her measuring tape from where it hung around her shoulders, held it out in front of herself, and promptly dropped it. It did not fall.

As basic as levitation was for ghosts, it was really weird to see a human do it. (Especially when it always took so much concentration for him to levitate things other than himself—Hence why he never really used the ability in battle.)

The measuring tape flitted around Danny’s head, shoulders, arms, and body, taking measurements. He had to sit on his reflexes hard to prevent himself from trying to catch it or knock it out of the air.

He was so nervous. Was it normal to be nervous?

The measuring tape snaked back through the air to the woman, who smiled. “Alright,” she said, “we can start with that. Uh, to explain the process, we usually start out with wands in the appropriate size range and try and zero in on the ones that respond best to you from there.” She flicked her own wand, and several thin boxes slid themselves off the shelves. “We use a wide variety of wand woods from a variety of wandmakers. Just about any tree that grows in North America is probably represented here.” She paused. “Except for palm trees.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny. Palm trees were quite different from other trees.

“Alright. Let’s start with pine. The core of this one is dragon heartstring—Harvested humanely, of course!”

“Core?” said Danny, latching on to the familiar word even as he regarded the wand itself dubiously.

“Yes. As with our woods, we also stock a wide range of wand cores. Each wand has a core made of a small part of a magical creature. Dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather are the standard ones… But that standardization is rather British. We have a few others available. Thunderbird tail feather—Only taken during molt. Wampus cat hair. Dittany. Rougarou hair. Jackalope antler… Those are the more common ones, though we do have others. Even some kneazle whisker, although most people don’t want those.”

“Why not?”

“Ah, they tend not to be very strong. But sheer power isn’t everything. Some prefer control, need lower power output… or are worried about accidents while they’re learning. We do see some adult learners every now and then.”

That actually sounded sort of appealing to Danny, but he supposed he’d better go about this normally. At least at first.

He picked up the pine wand and immediately dropped it.

“Ow,” he said.

“Ow?” repeated the woman. “Oh,” she said, catching sight of the burn on his hand. “That’s… not supposed to happen.”

“Y’know,” said Danny, conversationally, “I’ve only held, like, two magical things in my life, and both of them have damaged my hands. Is this, like, a common thing, or am I just ridiculously unlucky.”

“Second one, I think,” said the woman. “Cynthia’s good at minor healing charms. I’m going to go get her. Okay? Okay.”

Shortly thereafter, phoenix feather wands were also eliminated as a possibility, not because they burned Danny, but because they seemed intent on burning everything else around him. Pine wands were also a definite no-go (“Don’t worry about the lifespan thing,” said the woman, “that’s a myth.”). As was everything but elder, apple, pear, hornbeam, thorn, and yew (this list got another mention of myths from the shop assistant).

At this point, the shop owner, Mrs. Willoughby, was drawn out from the back room to observe the mess Danny was making.

“My,” she said, “I haven’t seen anyone have this much trouble in a while. Heather, why don’t you go get some of the specialty cores.”

“I thought the unicorn was working well,” protested the woman who’d been helping Danny so far. She winced as Danny picked up a new wand and exploded a light. “Comparatively.”

“Yes, we could probably eventually find a unicorn hair wand that would work for him, but all things considered… I feel like we should explore other avenues.” She sniffed. “Nothing associated with fire. Perhaps kelpie mane?”

“I’ll check,” said Heather.

Kelpie mane, it turned out, did the same sort of thing as phoenix tail feather when it came to Danny. Only with a lot more water involved.

“I didn’t think that would work, anyway,” said Mrs. Willoughby.

“Then why,” said Danny, wringing water out of his shirt, “did you have me try it?”

“Oh, cases like you greatly improve our understanding of wandlore,” said Mrs. Willoughby. “You’re not likely to have noticed this yet, but the population of wizards and witches is so small compared to the no-maj population that everyone who gets very far in a profession has to be a bit of an innovator. I’m recording this for future reference, and I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you do in life. If anything. It would be very helpful to me if you became famous.”

“Hard pass on that,” said Danny.

“Or at least come back at some point.”

“I’ll consider it,” said Danny. “But, like, we were really hoping to do other things today, so maybe…” He made a circular motion with his hand. “Or at least, ugh, I don’t know. I feel like everything you give me is trying to kill me.”

It was a very familiar feeling, and a very unwelcome one, nonetheless.

“We really aren’t,” said Mrs. Willoughby. “But perhaps… from now on, we’ll limit to the woods to the Rosaceaes. The others tend to be called unlucky. Well, except for the hornbeam. Is there anything you’re singularly passionate about?”

Singularly passionate? “Not really,” said Danny, who did not think about ghosts or helping people or space. He shifted, uncomfortable, and squelched.

Screw it. He was supposedly a wizard, now, right?

He phased the water off himself.

“Oh my god!” shouted Heather. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Uh,” said Danny. “No?”

“Calm down, Heather. Don’t act like you’ve never seen accidental magic before.”

“Not with a teenager doing it!”

They were now attracting a crowd. Yay.

“He’s not trained, yet,” said Mrs. Willoughby, unconcerned. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, can we get back on track, here?”

After a few more tries, Mrs. Willoughby had determined that the wood that reacted the least badly to Danny was hawthorn. Then she sent Heather into the storage room to fetch more.

“I don’t know why we even have these,” said Heather, under her breath, carrying several boxes marked with stamps that read ‘THESTRAL.’

“Because some people have trauma, Heather.”

“He’s a teenager. I seriously doubt he has deep personal experiences with death.”

“Wow, way to assume, Heather,” said another shop assistant, who was passing by with a far-too-curious customer.

“Here,” said Mrs. Willoughby, handing Danny a box. “Try this one. It’s hawthorn.”

With some suspicion, Danny slid the cover off the box and gingerly picked up the wand inside.

It didn’t do anything like what the other wands had. Instead, the slender length of wood gave him a faint echo of the feeling he got when he was on an emotional high and engaging in either extreme mischief or obsession-adjacent activities (because he did not have a real, ghostly, capital-O Obsession).

Danny declined to hold it with all five fingers, lest he be overcome with mania.

Yes, he was paranoid. But when touching things can go as badly for you as they did for Danny, paranoia was justified.

“Oh, it looks like you’ve found your match,” said Mrs. Willoughby, clapping.

With the ease of practice, Danny did not let any trace of horror or unease show on his face. He ignored the surge of glee from the wand, and carefully placed it back in the box.

Yeah. He needed a wand for passport purposes, but there was no way he was going to use that. He’d just fake magic with ghost powers. It had been working out okay so far.

What was the worst that could happen?

A rather relieved Jack paid for the wand, and they made their way, slowly, to the government building.

“So,” said Jack. “You want to save getting those beginner magic manuals for another day?”

“Absolutely,” said Danny. He wondered if his twin had gone through anything even remotely like this and if it was really worth all this trouble to meet a person he would have basically nothing in common with other than blood.

Blood that likely meant less than usual, considering that his was diluted with ectoplasm. A fact he would have to hide. With no allies or back up. In England.

(Again, this whole endeavor was not his greatest idea.)

Draco supervised the house-elves as they cleaned out the room next to his own, feeling rather blank. He had campaigned vigorously for his twin to come, but now that he was…

The boy, for all that he was as much a Malfoy as Draco, was an American for all intents and purposes. What did Americans even like? What did they call their bastardized version of Quidditch? Would Deneb even know about wizard games? According to the woman from the agency, he’d been raised as a muggle by those squibs he’d been placed with.

Slowly but surely, Draco’s heart sank. He had no idea what his twin would be like. Deneb, despite being his brother, would essentially be a stranger.

He was beginning to understand why his mother was so angry at his father.

#danny phantom #dp/hp crossover #dp/hp twin au #stars aligned

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Text

Hey wouldn’t it be funny if I wrote a crossover between canon and the roleswap AU.

So I did <3. There’s no reason for this to exist, I was just bored and self-indulgent and amused myself by thinking about how fucking insane the Space Cadet team has to be in comparison to canon. This takes place at S4 Canon!Jon’s time, and basically between chapters 2 and 3 of solitaire. It is not canon. Do not think too hard about it. Enjoy. Story under the cut.

“Yes, in almost every way.” Jon wiped his mouth with a napkin, balling it up and dropping it on the table. “Jonathan Sims, thirty one years old, Aquarius. Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. The Archivist.” He paused a beat, uncertain of how to broach this. “I think Helen may have deposited me in an alternate dimension? Best case scenario.”

Everybody stared at him blankly.

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly.

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly.

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Jon woke up at his desk, which was so common that it was somewhat pathetic.

Not that a lot of things weren’t pathetic about Jon, but seeing as he no longer technically had anywhere to live he’d give himself a pass. Or was it pathetic to be homeless too? Jon felt strongly as if it was, but he was working on the judgemental thing. Martin had always -

Martin. Jon blinked blearily at his empty desk, scrubbing a little at the sleep that had accumulated in the corner of his eyes. Right. Speaking of pathetic. Jon didn’t like admitting that Martin was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before he went to bed, but he was working on being more honest with himself. Denial about the situation didn’t do anyone any favors. Denial was what made him start stalking and hunting people like - like some sort of awful predator. No more denial. Jon knew who he was, and he knew what he was, and he was going to try and be as good a person as he can be despite it. It was the least he could do.

Wait. Why was his desk empty?

It wasn’t completely empty. There was a laptop on the center of it, and some assorted papers stuck haphazardly underneath. The usual recorder was tucked into the corner, clicked off. He swiped his hand over the trackpad of his laptop, quickly logging in, and instead of seeing his usual research or theory maps, he saw...a video game?

Jon squinted at the video game. What was The Sims?

He looked around his office, well-lit with the harsh fluorescent lights. It was his office, complete with the couch on the far wall that Daisy had taken to napping on and the two walls of metal shelving that held filling boxes and collections of tapes. Several filing cabinets were lined up behind Jon, holding his favorite statements. Organized by Entity. He was quite proud of it.

But the Statements seemed to be gone. Some loose papers were always scattered around, slipping out of boxes or sitting in haphazard piles weighed down by tape recorders. None of them were there. Basira must have taken them. Jon stood up, moving around the desk to pull out a box and peer inside. Empty.

Some part of Jon’s brain, growing louder every day, wailed and gnashed its teeth that someone had stolen his Statements, his knowledge. Most of Jon was just worried over what Basira could possibly be doing with them.

Unconsciously, Jon’s hand drifted down to his stomach. It was purely a habit, of course - the hunger never gave him stomach pains. He was so hungry all the time, he could barely feel it anymore.

The Statements were all gone.

Was Basira trying to starve him out…?

Jon shook himself. She wouldn’t - well, she wouldn’t go behind his back to do it. She knew that he’d just start preying on people -

His life had gotten so pathetic.

A loud crash and a yell echoed from the other side of the door, and Jon recognized Melanie’s voice. He winced, and decided to stay in his office for the time being. Best to stay out of her way. She always reacted somewhat explosively to him -

Then the faint, muffled tones of Martin’s voice echoed through the door, and Jon forgot all hesitation as he burst out of his office.

The bullpen was just slightly different from where Jon had seen it last - the desks arranged differently, different detritus scattered around, no sleeping bags or hair dryers - but he wasn’t paying attention to any of that. He was only paying attention to Martin, who was sitting at his desk as easy as you please. He was smiling.

Jon hadn’t seen Martin smile in so long.

He also hadn’t seen Martin wear those adorable little sweatervests in so long, but that wasn’t important right now. Jon cried out softly, like he had been punched - he did feel as if he had been punched, it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation - and Martin turned slightly in his chair to look at him. He smiled when he saw Jon, so kind and happy and Martin, and Jon felt like he was dying at the sight of Martin just smiling, just looking at him.

“Look, you don’t need to worry about me,” Martin was saying, to an unamused and remarkably composed Melanie. He held up a large combat knife, the metal glinting off the fluorescent lights. “Jon likes it.”

“See, it’s not you I’m worried about,” Melanie said, arms crossed. She was dressed - in her jeans and green flannel, like she used to. Her hair looked clean. The crop top, cut-off shorts, and fishnets, that Jon hadn’t seen her take off in the last month, where - “It’s poor Jon. He’s too desperate for affection to stand up for himself.”

“Jon, you okay?” Tim asked, sitting behind Martin and sipping a margarita. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That was when Jon - hungry, tired, hallucinating - felt his legs give out. It was just in time, too. He collapsed to the ground just as Martin threw the knife, sending it whistling where his head had been half a second ago.

Then he hit his head on the floor, and blissfully fainted.

****

“ - she’s not his mother, it’s not Georgie’s job to make sure he eats.”

“It’s because Daisy isn’t here.” That was Basira’s voice, almost mournful. “Daisy always used to remind him to eat.”

“How did this guy make it to thirty again?” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“If it wasn’t for this ragtag bunch of lesbians, I would have killed him months ago,” Tim said, then paused a beat. “What? I’m owning up to my mistakes.”

“Remind me to give you a sticker later,” Melanie said dryly.

Jon opened his eyes, to see five faces crowded in front of him. They were all bending over him, identical expressions of mild intrigue on their faces as they bickered with each other. Martin looked very, very mildly concerned, as Melanie and Basira just looked exasperated. Tim - and the woman - who was the woman?

Instinctually, Jon reached out with his mind and sought the answer. But it was as if he was reaching with a limb that had been cut off. No, a limb that had never existed. Dazed, Jon lifted his real hand, if only to make sure that he could still move - and found himself staring at an unmarred, smooth, healthy hand.

“Martin didn’t cut it off,” the woman said helpfully. She had a thick mane of curly brown hair, and brown skin a similar shade to his. She was holding a granola bar, and she easily stuffed it in his outstretched hand. “If that was a concern or anything. When’s the last time you ate, Jon?”

The question spent a spike of anxiety through him, Jon instantly interpreting it as an accusation. The granola bar wasn’t going to do anything. Of course he was hungry, he’s always hungry -

Jon wasn’t hungry.

Jon sat up, letting the assorted people, both alive and dead, step away. He mechanically unwrapped the granola bar and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing lethargically. It didn’t taste like sawdust and cement. It tasted like salt, and nuts.

He swallowed the granola bar, forming a hypothesis. He looked at Basira, who at least was the most familiar here. It galled him even having to ask, not just knowing, but - “What year is it?”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “If you hit your head we’re taking you to C&E. We can’t afford for you to get any stupider, Jon.”

“Your concern is noted,” Jon said, strained.

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s a concussion victim,” Melanie scolded. She smiled at Jon - hideously novel. “It’s 2018. I’m calling Georgie and getting you home, you’re useless to us with a brain injury.”

He no longer had a hypothesis. Jon shook his head mutely. The last person Jon wanted to field questions from was Georgie. “I’m fine,” Jon said hoarsely. “I think I just need to - lie down a bit.” And not look at Tim. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and was still slurping his margarita obnoxiously. He was leaning against a desk, somewhat heavily. “I’ll be fine.”

Everybody looked at each other, then shrugged. Melanie reached down and helped him up, gently pushing him towards the couch set up in the corner of the bullpen, and he found himself stumbling towards it and lying down. Martin loudly offered to nurse him back to health, which incentivized Basira and Melanie to quickly push him inside the recording room and lock the door for...some reason. Jon wanted to go talk to Martin, figure everything out with him. But he didn’t - paralyzed, or maybe just frightened, or maybe just very tired.

The knife he had thrown was still lying on the floor, somehow innocently. The woman picked it up, inspecting it closely, and sighed.

“There is something off about that guy.”

“None of them are ever going to believe you, Sash,” Tim said dully, flipping through a brightly colored magazine on his desk. Jon’s breath caught in his throat. “Melanie thinks it’s freakier if you haven’t stabbed anyone.”

This was it. This was when Tim would say, ‘Everybody wants to stab Jon’, or something. It’d be fair. If this was a dream, a fantasy of dead friends, then that’s what he would say. But he didn’t. Tim - strangely small, strangely gaunt, with hollow cheeks that reminded Jon a little of Daisy - didn’t look up at Sasha, flipping through his magazine, and Sasha avoided eye contact with him. She looked at Jon instead, from where he was lying on the couch, and gave him a strained smile.

Jon found the courage to speak to her. It should have felt familiar, like Sasha, but nothing about her was familiar. He had listened to her tapes a dozen times, any scrap of her voice he could find, but - well, everybody sounded different on the tapes. “Sasha. Can you get me my phone? And a...Statement?”

Sasha brightened enthusiastically. “You want a Statement? Say no more, Jon, I’ll hook you up. Nice to see somebody taking an interest. Let’s keep this between you and me, okay?”

“What…?”

But she had already disappeared into his office, and the faint sounds of banging echoed throughout the room. Melanie and Basira were standing in the kitchenette, chatting lowly, Basira occasionally laughing at something Melanie said.

Jon wondered where Daisy was, and instinctively tried to reach again before hitting that wall. He gritted his teeth, head still swimming.

The most important thing was figuring out if this place was dangerous or not. Wherever he was, whatever was going on, he had to discern if it was a danger. Could this have anything to do with an unknown ritual? No, how could it? Elias? He wouldn’t put any of this past Elias.

With a twist in his gut Jon remembered the cannibal priest’s Statement. Any suspicion of unreality, any feeling as if things were not as they should be...or was this a pleasant, Lotus Eater’s dream instead? If that was true, would Martin be throwing knives at him?

“Here you go! First one I saw on your desk.”

Jon sat up, mutely taking the paper and phone Sasha held out to him. It wasn’t his mobile - it was much nicer and sleeker than his own battered thing - but he had to assume it was Jon’s. He took the Statement too, scanning it quickly.

Of course, of course. It was Anya Villete’s. Jon thought about this one frequently, captured by the prospect of multiple realities. Not worth the danger of exploring, but there was an intoxicating element of danger. Maybe the Jon that these people thought they were talking to had been reading it, and accidentally triggered something -

“What did I say!”

Before Jon could react, the paper was unceremoniously ripped from his hands. Jon cried out helplessly, only to see Melanie standing in front of him with an unamused expression and his lifeline in her uncaring fists.

“We’ve been over this,” Melanie scolded - scolded? “No statements, they’re bad for your tummy.” She frowned at Sasha, who didn’t seem very guilty. “And I told you to stop enabling him. He’s already sick, and you know these things upset him.”

“I’m gathering data,” Sasha said cheerfully. “Something weird was happening in his eyes when he was reading that Statement. Give it back, I need to record it.”

“Can I have that back, please?” Jon asked planatively. “I need it.”

“You do not.” Melanie folded up the statement tightly, shoving it in her jeans and ignoring Jon’s cry of despair. “If you’re feeling under-stimulated, go play knife monopoly with Martin. Otherwise relax and make sure you aren’t going to faint again.”

“I’m not going to -”

“I will call Georgie,” Melanie threatened, and Jon clicked his mouth shut. Melanie nodded, satisfied in having won the argument. If it was even an argument. “Sasha, if you let Jon find another Statement I will be locking the library and giving the key to Martin.”

“Yes, boss,” Sasha said, depressed.

“Tim, you’re with me, we need to design our plan of attack for chasing down Daisy,” Melanie barked, and Tim straightened in his seat. Jon saw for the first time that there was a folded up cane on his desk. “I need your dumb fear demon powers.”

“That’s not how they -” Tim started, but at Melanie’s look he quailed. “Yeah, boss.”

“Great.” Melanie folded her arms, frowning down at Jon, and at the receiving end of the look Jon found himself quailing too. “If you leave the Archives to do anything other than go to the bathroom the rest of the day, I will tell Georgie that you were exerting yourself while sick again. And she will call you a poor little dear and give you lots of hugs and lots of soup. You will hate it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, boss,” Jon said, depressed.

“Good. I need to go psychologically torment more people, I’ll be in the library. Tim!” She snapped her fingers, and strode off to the library as Tim scrambled up and limped after her.

Jon watched her go dazedly as the library door clicked shut behind her. Sasha sighed and went back to her desk, cracking open the thick books on the top and relaxing. They weren’t even research books, just nonfiction about the Mayflower. Basira was back at her desk too, this time with her chin resting on her arms folded on the desk as she watched a...movie. Was that a romcom?

This was dangerous. The situation was dangerous, doubtless the plot of some force or another that hated Jon personally and wanted him to suffer. He had to do some research, find out what was going on, track down Elias and find his power and dig into that source of infinite knowledge lying dormant in his mind, uproot every terrifying thing that hated him and shake them down for answers.

But he was more scared of Melanie. Just because she didn’t seem to have any knives on her didn’t mean that it was the case. Unless Martin had them all. So Jon lay back on the couch, rotely pressed in the passcode to his phone, and idly opened up the internet browser in complete comfort and relaxation.

The couch was so comfortable and soft, in fact, that Jon soon fell asleep. Easy and smooth, as if he really was still a human, who needed sleep at all.

And when Jon dreamed, he dreamed of blissful and restful nothing.

******

He woke up to someone shaking his shoulder, and Jon screamed himself awake as his eyes flew open.

But it wasn’t anybody dangerous, or anything willing to hurt him. It was just - Basira. Just Basira. Jon exhaled in relief, ignoring Basira’s incredulous expression.

“It’s five, we’re heading out. You feeling well enough for pub night, mate?”

They were going home. The strangeness registered first, the fact that Sasha was shrugging on a jacket and Melanie was stuffing a laptop in a backpack, before Jon remembered where he was. Or where he wasn’t. He mustered a faint smile for Basira, but judging from her frown it came out closer to a grimace.

Pub night. They were going out for drinks, then going to their own flats. Eating dinner. Sleeping. Waking up the next morning, then heading off to work. The mundanity boggled.

Maybe it was a Lotus Eater, Jon thought, dazed. A world where there were no Entities, no fears or harm. Where everybody was human, and happy.

Maybe. He hadn’t actually been allowed to look at any of the Statements, so he didn’t actually know. He couldn’t imagine that this group would be so casual if the Statements really were true.

Part of him wanted to beg off, curl up and sleep in document storage so he wouldn’t have to interact with these people for any longer. He was out of practice: these days he rarely had long conversations with anybody who wasn’t Daisy, and he hadn’t seen Daisy all day. Basira exchanged a few curt sentences with him each day. Melanie...cried and screamed, a lot. Not exactly conducive to social skills.

Sasha’s face was buried in a book, not even looking up as she navigated the desks. Tim was talking a patient Melanie’s ear off about Nietzche.

“I think I can make it,” Jon found himself saying. “Just a pint.”

Besides, he had the feeling that if he curled up in document storage Georgie would...be mad at him. Or something. They were flatmates? Or something?

They walked out the door in a herd, talking and laughing. Jon found himself hanging in the back of the group, next to Sasha. She wasn’t looking up from her book, so Jon felt safe in staring unabashedly at Tim. He was using a cane, just like Daisy had for two or so weeks right out of the coffin. He even used it in the same way: not favoring one leg or the other, using it for strength instead of balance. Muscle weakness. He was just as emancipated as Daisy had been too, in that particular corpse-like way that made him look like a zombie. His hair was long and lanky, brittle strands reaching to his chin instead of his normal lush and gelled look.

The faces in the lobby were the same - Sabrina behind the desk, Roy playing security guard - even as the decorations were different. No portrait of Jonah Magnus, or of the other directors. They broke out into the London street, as smoggy and crowded as ever, and Jon found himself trailing behind the others in a direct route to their usual pub. The same one he, Basira, Melanie, and Daisy go drinking at sometimes. Only sometimes. They went without him more often, but Jon didn’t blame them, really -

“Something on my face, mate?”

Tim’s wry voice startled Jon out of his reverie, and he flushed. Tim smiled at him, thinly and without humor, and gestured him forward as he dropped behind Melanie. Jon stepped forward, tucking his hands into his jacket, fighting the rising swell in his throat.

“You’ve been staring. I’m not that much uglier, am I?” Tim asked lightly, a parody of his old good humor. That, at least, was familiar - Tim’s fragile and brittle humor, tightly leashing rage.

“You...you look good,” Jon said. He buried his hands deeper in his jacket pockets, fighting the lump in his throat. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “It’s good to see you again.”

It was probably a strange thing for Jon to say - but Tim just smiled, even more bitter than the last. “You’ve always been too nice for your own good, Sims.” First time that’s been said about him. “You forgive too easy.”

“Grudges...aren’t worth it, in my experience.” Jon exhaled slowly, watching Melanie’s red hair glint in the sunlight in front of him. “Life’s too short and all.”

“Really? Thought you people loved grudges.” Tim blinked a second, before clearly remembering something. “We love grudges, right. Still, Jon, I never really…” He trailed off awkwardly. “You know.”

He did not. “Right,” Jon said.

“Apologized,” Tim said hurriedly, when it became clear that Jon wasn’t about to say anything committal. “For trying to kill you all those times. Uh, and trying to get you arrested. And helping frame you for murder. And that whole kidnapping incident -”

Something began to occur to Jon. A rational thought seeped into his brain.

“In the woods,” Jon said slowly. “Because you thought I was a monster.”

Tim winced, confirming Jon’s suspicion. “Right. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I know I was wrong. I’ve turned over a new leaf and everything.” He brightened. “Did you hear I’m bisexual now?”

“Everybody heard you were bisexual now,” Basira said, bored. “Ten times.”

“Good for you,” Jon said, as sincerely as he could. “That’s...great. Bi rights.”

Tim beamed. “Bi rights!” He clapped Jon’s shoulder supportively with his other hand as Melanie held open the door to the pub for them, ducking inside. “Man, I never thought I’d see the inside of a pub again. I only got to go a few times with you guys before everything. Can Martin still hustle the room at pool?”

“One way to find out,” Martin said serenely.

“Please don’t start a pub brawl,” Melanie said, pained. “We’ve been kicked out of three places already, I don’t fancy making it a fourth.”

But when Jon looked backwards, he saw Sasha looking up from her book, staring directly at him, blinking owlishly.

They crowded into a corner booth, squishing up against each other and all talking at once. Jon wanted to drift towards Martin, get him alone and ask what was going on, but after one look at him eyeing up the pool cues speculatively he changed his mind. Only Basira was acting even remotely normal, so he settled for sliding in between her and Sasha. He was dizzy with the noise and the clamor of the familiar pub, overwhelmed by the familiar-unfamiliar tide of voices, and it was taking all of his energy not to spend hours just staring at Sasha, memorizing every line and crease of her face.

The first thing he did was order every single crummy, greasy, soggy serving of pub food he found on the menu, ignoring the way his Assistants laughed at him, before settling in the corner of the booth and pulling out his phone. Jon wasn’t even hungry - he wasn’t hungry - but he was shoving every soggy chip into his mouth until he puked. A human body was a drastically underrated thing.

Out of curiosity, Jon turned on the front camera of his phone and scrutinized his reflection. He had noticed that his hair was shorter, tied back in a puffed bun instead of his customary ragged ponytail, but beyond that he hadn’t checked.

He looked...good. No longer gaunt and malnourished, he was a healthy weight. No bags under his eyes. Well kept fade and modest, well trimmed facial hair. No scar over his throat, no circular worm scars. That was less of a surprise - Tim, Martin, and Sasha were all missing the worm scars.

His eyes were brown. Just brown. No electrifying green, no spinning iris, no churning wheel of knowledge. Just his normal, boring brown.

He hadn’t known how much he missed it.

As the others started arguing passionately about...vlogs? Or something?...Jon pulled out his wallet. Money had the same old Queen on it, along with his old collection of take-out receipts that had all started disappearing when he stopped eating. A photocopy of a picture of his parents, heavily worn and creased. Still an orphan, then. Jon missed the days when that was his biggest problem.

His driver’s license was the same as ever too. Same name - Jonathan Andrew Sims. Same birthday - February 14th, which he had always considered life’s practical joke on him. The United Kingdom still existed, which was either a good or a bad thing.

He replaced his wallet, ignoring Sasha’s curious stare, and pulled out his phone. He had only gone so far as making sure that major world events were the same before passing out. This time, he pressed his text messages, and scrolled down his most recents. As usual, it was only a few people - almost all of which were at this table - but there were a few other people too.

Georgie was the obvious one, and the most recent. He clicked on that conversation, unsurprised to see an immediate photograph of the Admiral looking angelic as he rolled around in some grass in a patch of sun.

Georgie: Baby at the park soaking in some rays!!! <3 <3 <3. I caught him terrorizing a stray dog. Naughty baby!!

Jon blinked at the message. The Admiral did seem a little...more evil, than he once did. Why were his eyes green? Underneath was Jon’s own text, sent twenty minutes before he had woken up that afternoon.

Jon: He’s committing atrocities and you’re laughing. You’re laughing.

Jon couldn’t fight a smile. He missed Georgie.

He switched over to the text conversation just underneath. He squinted at the contact name. That couldn’t be right.

Gerry: can u pick up milk from aldis? and scented candles

Gerry: for necromancy reasons

Jon: Can you raise the dead tomorrow? Helen said she wants to talk to me so I may be home late. If you don’t hear from me in five hours she’s likely kidnapped me. As a heads up.

Gerry: OH, SO LONG AS I HAVE THE HEADS UP?

Gerry: I’m making Georgie give Melanie the money to buy that toddler leash she’s always threatening to get for u. If u die im not resurrecting u.

Jon: Have fun with one less person to share the rent

Gerry: we dont PAY RENT

Gerard Keay. Jon blinked at the phone. That conversation raised as many questions as it answered. Gerard Keay was alive? He was Jon’s flatmate? He practiced necromancy? None of it seemed very relevant right now, but it made Jon wonder who else was resurrected from the dead. Was necromancy common in this universe, like knitting?

Still, Helen explained quite a bit. It also suggested what Jon was already wondering: that the supernatural was far from foreign. If Helen was supernatural, and not just...a jerk.

If Tim was an Avatar of the Hunt...if he had been in the coffin...and Daisy’s been hard to track down…

Jon was interrupted in his increasingly coherent train of thought by his food arriving, and all thoughts were thrown out the window. His basket of fish and chips slid in front of him, and he wasted absolutely no time in cramming the fries into his mouth three at a time, not wasting time salting or putting vinegar on them. They were dripping with crease, soggy and burning his tongue.

They were perfect.

The waiter, looking somewhat intimidated, slid his bacon butty on the table too, and Jon took barely a moment to swallow before stuffing that in his face too. Bacon, butter, brown sauce - it exploded on his tongue, a cavalcade of salt and seasoning. Increasingly terrified, the waiter put his pie and mash on the table and quickly fled, as Jon finished cramming the sandwich into his mouth before moving back to the fish. It was hot, crackling on his tongue, strong and fishy and perfect.

Jon looked up from his food long enough to grab a glass of water and gulp half of it down. It wasn’t until he put his glass down that he saw the looks on the faces of his Assistants. All of whom ranged from frightened to terrified.

Everybody except Martin, whose chin was propped on his hand and was sighing dreamily. “It’s really hot how you can pack it all away, Jon. Do you want to come over to my flat and let me cook for you? I’d make a lot of food. ”

Jon choked on his fish.

That was it for Sasha. She slammed her book down, expression intent, and jabbed a finger at a now wheezing Jon. “Jon would never choke at Martin’s creepy flirting! That isn’t Jonathan Sims!”

Jon stole Tim’s glass of water, ignoring his squawk, and downed that too.

Now everybody really was staring at him, and Jon felt heat rise to his cheeks. As the kids say, busted. He should probably stop eating and make his escape while he still could, before Tim decided to change his mind on his ‘murdering Jon’ stance.

But outside did not have pub food. Inside had pub food. Jon made his decision with the knowledge that, if his Assistants reacted from a reasonable place of Imposter-based trauma and killed him for pretending to be Jonathan Sims, he’d deserve it. He was not moving from this spot until his food was gone or his Assistants killed him.

Jon finished off Tim’s water, dropping it back on the lacquered table, and hoarsely said, “I’ve been having a very strange day.”

Nobody leaped for his throat or pointed a gun at him, which was always nice. It was more than Jon had been expecting. Instead, everybody looked at Melanie, who narrowed her eyes. Jon realized, a second too late, that they were waiting for her. Whatever happened to him, Melanie would decide.

...why Melanie?

Melanie rested her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. She locked eyes with Jon, breaking him down like a judge at a dog show, and Jon tried to shovel mash in his mouth as innocently as possible.

“Sasha. What’s your evidence?”

“He’s been acting weird all day,” Sasha said promptly, as if she’d been expecting the question. She shifted her arm purposefully, and Jon realized with a start that she was concealed carrying. Was that legal? “Jon never asks me for Statements outright, he always just sneaks them behind Melanie’s back. If he really fainted because he was hungry, he would have eaten his lunch too, instead of just my granola bar. And he hasn’t talked to Martin since he fainted - he isn’t even sitting next to him.” Sasha drew herself up triumphantly. “And, he looked actually scared when Martin threw that knife at him. He’s never scared of Martin. He normally just role-plays the fear bit.”

“Which I appreciate,” Martin said supportively, making Jon blanch. That elicited more suspicious looks from everyone, which Jon couldn’t even begin to parse. “But he has been acting strange today, hasn’t he?”

“Tim?” Melanie asked sharply.

Tim sniffed loudly, wrinkling his nose a little. “Smells like him.” At Melanie’s intense look, he grudgingly added, “No sawdust or plastic. Flesh and blood, boss.”

Jon began stuffing forkfuls of pastry and meat crumb from the pie in his mouth as Melanie went back to squinting at Jon. Not glaring - just an intense, sidelong look, fingers steepled in front of her. “You aren’t denying it, Jon.”

Jon mumbled something.

“Swallow your food.”

Jon carefully swallowed his mouthful of dough. “I have not eaten human food,” Jon said delicately, “in five months. I will answer your questions momentarily.”

And then Jon cleaned all three of his plates, to the dumbfounded looks of his Assistants.

Finally, after everybody else’s drinks had arrived - including Jon’s pint, which he reached for so quickly that Martin stole it away from him and refused to give it back - and Jon had cleaned all three of his plates, he felt ready to talk. He thumped on his chest, burping a little, and leaned back in his plush seat. Melanie was nursing her pint, sipping from it slowly, as Basira gave him her usual ‘I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you’ look.

“Okay,” Jon said finally. “I apologize for not - ah, clarifying before. I thought I was dreaming. To be honest, I worry that I’m still dreaming.” He looked down at his empty basket and plates. “I dearly hope that wasn’t human flesh or something horrid like that.”

Sasha perked up. “Like in the cannibal priest statement? That’s fascinating -”

“Shut up about cannibal priests,” Melanie groaned, and Sasha guiltily shut up. Oddly rude, but nobody seemed surprised. “You are Jon, right?”

Everybody stared at him blankly.

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly.

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly.

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Then everybody was talking over each other, arguing and exclaiming and yelling, and Jon frantically drank his pint. They were so loud.

Finally, Melanie chopped a hand through the buzz, and everyone quieted. She pursed her lips, looking Jon up and down, and he anxiously let himself get looked at. “How did you know it was an alternate universe? What’s the difference?”

“Martin threw a knife at me and Tim and Sasha are alive,” Jon said instantly.

“I’m not actually dead in your universe,” Tim said quickly, “just trapped in an infernal demon hell coffin. If you can get me out, I’d be really thankful -”

“No, you’re quite dead,” Jon said apologetically. “That happened to Daisy in my universe, though. A - a lot of what you did here, I think, Daisy did.” He looked at Basira, frowning. “Where is Daisy? She’s not…”

“She’s fine,” Basira said curtly, folding her arms and leaning back. “Having lots of fun ditching us and having fun at her little secretary desk. It’s fine. I don’t care. She can do what she wants, she’s an adult.”

“Basira’s been pining tragically ever since Daisy ran off to go work for Peter Lukas,” Melanie said sympathetically.

Jon felt a little called out. “Ah. That’s - that’s very unfortunate.” He slowly turned to Martin, who still seemed caught up in the ‘two Jons’ aspect of this. “And you’re...you would define yourself as full of rage?”

“At all times, all the time, without cessation,” Martin agreed affably. “Why? That’s not weird to you, is it?”

“Uh huh.” Jon slowly turned to Sasha. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to insult you, but...did you happen to once work as a Constable for the Met?”

Everybody winced. Sasha sighed. “I regret all of my actions and I’m very sorry that I was once a pig and I’ll never do it again because I value due process now.”

“Word, sister,” Tim said, raising his pint.

“Hm,” Jon said, far too much coming together. But that left a big question, one thing that didn’t make sense. “What about me? Do I - eat trauma?”

Basira stared at him blankly. “You try, sometimes, but we usually just spray water at you until you stop.”

“That explains it,” said Jon, despite the fact that it didn’t explain anything.

“Your questions are pointless, and this is a waste of time.” Melanie clapped her hands sharply, making everyone straighten to attention. She stood up from her seat, everybody scrambling to protect their glasses as Melanie clambered on top of the table. “Helen! Get out here!”

“She’s not - she’s not Beetlejuice, you can’t just call her name and make her appear,” Jon said blankly. “How’s she even supposed to hear -”

“She can hear me just fine,” Melanie called, “because she’s been sitting at the bar this whole time.”

Everybody’s heads craned around to look at the bar. Through the stream of people, carrying drinks and laughing, Jon could faintly make out a tall, willowy figure with a large afro sitting on a barstool at the bar, tapping the rim of one elegant martini with a long, manicured fingernail.

Then she swiveled around, and Helen grinned broadly at all of them. She waved cheekily with one hand, fingers waving and rippling strangely in the dim pub lights. “Hello! You rang?”

Melanie jabbed a finger at the table pointedly. “Michael’s too young to be here too, Helen!”

“They’re eighteen, they’re a big non-Euclidean concept!” Helen tittered, as she hopped of the stool. Jon’s draw dropped as a much smaller, slight figure next to her hopped off too. They were a teenager, with a curly mop of blonde hair and big, watery blue eyes that seemed just a little strange. Everything about them was on the edge of familiar, and not in the usual way of the Spiral.

“She was waiting for us to figure it out,” Basira murmured, catching Jon’s attention. “It’s definitely funny to her.”

“Helen defined schadenfreude, I’m afraid,” Jon said, depressed, as Helen and her tagalong popped up at the edge of their table. Melanie had said Michael - and the kid did look like Michael, younger and alive and wide-eyed. Their watery eyes caught on Jon, and they tilted their head curiously. The sight of them hurt Jon’s head more than the Spiral usually did - a testament to the human body he was borrowing.

Human. That was no defense. He was vulnerable, and judging from the angle of Helen’s smile she knew it.

“Enjoying your vacation, Archivist?” Helen tittered, folding her hands girlishly as Melanie hopped off the table and back in her seat. “I’ve been having so much fun in this universe I thought I ought to bring a friend! Buy one plane ticket get one free, you know. I have this coupon for a great spa around here -”

“Helen,” Melanie intoned dangerously.

Helen tittered a nervous laugh. Was she...scared of Melanie? “Don’t worry! Your darling little Jon’s perfectly safe. He’s having a great time in one of my favorite dimensions, this wonderful post-apocalyptic adventure with a werewolf -

“Helen,” Melanie said slowly, danger building with every word, “we talked about what happens when you remove Jons from their native ecosystems.”

“They get sick,” Michael said somberly, nodding their head. “An’ wilt.”

“It is very stressful for the Jon, Helen. You know what we don’t like?”

“A stressed Jon?” Michael volunteered.

“Yes, Michael.” Melanie smiled pleasantly at Helen, who blanched. “A stressed Jon. Because when Jon gets stressed, my girlfriend gets stressed. And when my girlfriend gets stressed, I get stressed. And when I get stressed, everybody is about to have a very bad time. Get it? Helen?”

“Completely understood, very sympathetic, I see your point completely,” Helen said hurriedly. “Really, you can say that I did my dear Archivist a favor! He hasn’t had a human body in almost half a year, the poor dear was so sad about it. It’s a break, really!”

Tim squinted at Jon. “You’re really full on fear demon, then?”

Jon squirmed guiltily, ashamed. “I prefer the term Avatar. But...yes, I’m an amoral monster distant from humanity, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melanie said impatiently. “You’re about as far from humanity as I am. Having stupid superpowers or cramming shitty food into your mouth doesn’t make you inhuman, it just means you hang out with the wrong crowd. Go back to your own universe and get some rest, I bet you’re stressing out all your friends.”

“I’m really not,” Jon said weakly. “I - I really only have one friend.”

“No wonder you look so tragic all the time,” Sasha said thoughtfully. “Jon gets all mopey without affection. Like an unwatered plant.”

“I eat trauma,” Jon said, bewildered at the perception of harmlessness.

“You and half of the YouTube vlogging community.” Melanie clapped her hands again sharply, pulling everyone to attention. “Helen. Put Jon back where he came from or so help me.”

“Ruining all my fun,” Helen pouted, but at Melanie’s glare she sighed. She held up one hand, and static rippled through the air. The hand elongated, twisted, and turned into Helen’s signature lengthy claw. Michael eyed it with interest, before holding up their own hand and doing the same. “Fun while it lasted, Archivist! Now hold still. I wouldn’t want to lobotomize the wrong lobe.”

“Nice meeting you,” Sasha said politely, to a very freaked out Jon. “Don’t come back, though.”

“Come back if you want,” Basira yawned. “My life’s boring, spice it up a little.”

“Sorry I’m dead in your universe or whatever,” Tim said, waving a hand. “Life and death is meaningless anyway, so I’m sure it’s for the best.”

“I want my Jon back,” Martin complained. “Go on and get out, then.”

“Tell your friends what we told you,” Melanie said. “Don’t they know that you get all tragic when you’re lonely?”

And Jon didn’t know how to say it - that they didn’t know, or if they did then they didn’t care, because they had so many bigger problems than if Jon was sad or not. With Elias’ strange plans, with Jon’s encroaching monsterhood and his slow and steady starvation, with Martin’s loneliness and Basira’s desperation and Melanie’s instability, Jon’s feelings were the least important thing in the world.

Did it matter, to anybody but Jon, that he thought of Martin first thing in the morning and last thing as he went to bed at night?

“Hold still and look straight at me!” Helen said, and Jon had to be thankful - because that let him look at Sasha and Tim, eyes wide and intrigued, as Helen speared her finger through Jon’s forehead.

Jon blacked out, but the images of Sasha and Tim stayed burned behind his eyelids. He dreamed calm dreams, of him and Martin and Sasha and Tim, laughing together, as the world faded away.

****

When Jon woke up, it was with a crick in his neck, and he knew immediately he had fallen asleep on the battered old couch in his office again.

There was a heavy weight on his chest, and when he pried his eyes open he saw the top of Daisy’s head in front of him. Dusty blonde hair pooled on his chest as Daisy snored, deep asleep, arm stretched over his torso.

The taste of salt and grease was on his tongue, and Jon let himself go back to sleep. The dreams would be terrifying and desolate, but at least in them he was never hungry.

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic #im also doing an UNBELIEVABLY self-indulgent tim character study but im not sure if i should post it because tim's not funny #melanie king #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #slaughter!martin #basira hussain #sasha james #helen richardson #michael shelley

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years ago

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Things about Fred Weasley that keep me up at night

Nsfw warning here.

Also I have no idea why I have a thing for Fred. I mean honestly. Why am I like this?

Long haired Fred weasley

That's it.

That's the first point.

He never died.

There was no fucking reason for Fred to die.

Jk rowling wanted to know "Hmmm... What does writing angst feel like?" And killed off a random character

In my head he still alive

I can see him having a crush on this one girl who plays quidditch.

But he doesn't form that crush until he sees her covered in mud and grass and you're just standing there like "Guys... I did a thing"

I specifically can picture him with a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw.

I can vividly imagine him pulling a prank with a girl and having a moment where they hide in a small space with a finger over your lips

I can picture him kissing you for the first time after a hogsmeade trip and practically skipping to his common room.

Is it weird that I can imagine making out with this dude?

Like he most definitely is the type to be like "oh, I'll help you study" and then be the biggest fucking distraction to you

I can literally imagine him kissing this girl and him being like "mmm... Number five is wrong by the way" and then going back to doing something normal while she sits there like "you little shit"

Molly definitely loves you.

You just know she sends you sweaters for Christmas

Fred is calmer with you around

But not by much

Ron actually doesn't dislike you, he thinks you're cool

Especially after you save his ass from detention multiple times.

Whenever you'd get detention Fred would do something equally stupid to end up with you.

Detention make out sessions

I honest to God think he lost his virginity in the fifth year or sixth year.

I strongly believe he loves gratifying his girlfriend during sex.

I can actually imagine him saying: "You're doing beautifully Princess, just like that"

He definitely doesn't mind restraining you.

Definitely has held back your hands a couple of times

Top.

No arguments. He's a top.

Fred definitely is not against teasing a girl in public.

He has definitely fingered a girl underneath a table a few times.

He only does it though when he knows he can't get caught.

He's definitely figured out how to go through those fucking charms in the dorm rooms

He's definitely somewhat of an inside joke for your house.

"Where's Fred?" ".... He's doing... Things." "Is that Y/n's nickname now?"

He definitely loves to call you Princess during the DEVIL'S TANGO

That or Love.

His most common thing for him to do is to literally make you speechless, practically begging for him

And then ask you to speak.

He'd say "Words Princess, what do you want?"

And you'd be a complete disaster because your brain.exe has stopped working completely.

I don't know why I have so many headcanons about this man and sex. But I do.

Would it surprise you to hear me say I actually prefer Draco despite the fact I can barely muster a dirty thought about him?

I can imagine him just watching a girl from across the room and smiling to himself because she's his girlfriend.

I can perfectly imagine him sitting in on the couch in the gryffindor common room and just holding his girlfriend while she reads or talks to him.

Pranks are definitely a necessity in this relationship.

Come on have a little sense of humor

I could see him dating a hardass. But I feel like eventually his girlfriend would crack and he'd end up doing a prank with you.

He definitely is protective

He's not jealous though.

He trusts you.

But if a guy does try anything he'd kick the PDA up like six notches and basically make out with you until he leaves.

Stargazing dates are definitely a thing. Don't try to change my mind because I can literally picture him having this one spot in the burrow where he'll go to be alone

Course he's brought you there a couple of times and you both just sit out under the stars and you'd tell him what constellation he's looking at.

He definitely loves it when you're really smart and passionate for learning.

He gets to see you get all excited before class like "OH I KNOW THIS!"

After you graduate you most definitely work in the shop with Fred and George

Sometimes the boys swear you're the reason they're successful.

Like my God you're good at your job.

I can picture Fred and his girlfriend on a slow day, you sitting on the counter eating some sort of candy while talking to Fred and George

I can also picture Fred sneaking a few looks at your ass while you're working.

George teasing his brother because his so called "subtle glance" is more just staring and drooling

You know this. And you continue to do things on purpose that you know will drive the man insane.

I can perfect imagine a romantic night where there's a record player and you two just sway to a slow song, listening to each other's breathing.

Hear me out: I think the man smells like coffee, honey and popcorn.

It's just the vibe he gives off.

Like does that make sense-- I feel like it makes sense.

He definitely loves to hear you hum to yourself

He sings off key in front of people

But I have this strange idea that he actually can sing

George however? Tone deaf. Ears will bleed.

I love to imagine him dancing with you and singing in your ear.

I can literally just imagine this.

He definitely does goofy shit to cheer you up if you're ever upset

Like terrible terrible dancing.

His go to goofy dance move is the sprinkler

With sound effects

Jazzercize.

He will do fucking jazzercise to get you to smile.

He'll definitely fall on his ass

But he'll quickly get back up and keep going making you laugh harder.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x you

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evermorehaikyuu · 4 years ago

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Day 12

Title: The Pressure of The End

Note: I won’t lie, I like the title to this one. Anyways, here’s Shirabu’s angst, this takes place after the timeskip because I thought it’d be a little fun to write it. (Yes it was, it was very fun to write it.) There are warnings though, there are mentions of blood and there is a surgery, not in detail, but it is strongly implied. Proceed with caution.

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Surgery was both a miracle and a curse. On one hand, if everything went well, you got out of the hospital room, back to full health. However, one little misguided position and the whole operation was off, the doctors having to tell the family of the deceased one that they hadn’t made it.

It was an awful job and yet Shirabu Kenjirou had chosen it. He was incredibly smart and he hadn’t chosen to continue volleyball after high school. He had chosen one of the hardest fields in any industry and he was pulling it off greatly. He was at the top of his classes and when push came to shove, if any surgeon had had an accident, Shirabu would be the one everyone would choose.

He had studied until he couldn’t anymore. Every single day of this new life offered him so many opportunities and he would be damned if he didn’t take it. Shirabu learned to take a break only because of someone.

Y/N L/N was in one of the top classes as well, but her job wasn’t as complex as a surgeon’s, she was a pediatrician. Both of them had met in their first year of med school and knew each other from Shiratorizawa. They had never talked; they had seen each other around the school though, so in this new environment, they only had each other.

Before long, they found themselves looking out for the other, making sure the other was okay even though Shirabu tried to deny it.

By their third year in med school, he had fallen for her and they started going out together. Their job allowed them lunch breaks, which they spent together. It was difficult to go on dates but they were determined to continue their careers and stay together.

“Kenjirou, you need a break, I know you want to keep studying, but it’s 3 am.” Y/N yawned, rubbing her eyes as she walked into the living room in her pajamas. Wrapping her arms around him from behind, she put her chin on his shoulder sleepily.

“I need to know this, Y/N, just in case I’m supposed to know this.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand, also knowing that he was getting tired. He had skimmed through his old textbooks until coming upon something new that he had never learned before: craniectomy. He didn’t think he’d need it, but nevertheless had studied it at least a little bit before. Just the basics, because he never thought he’d actually have to operate on the brain.

“I know you like to study at this hour, but it’s not healthy.” Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, she buried her face in his neck. “Come back to bed.”

His eyes started drooping at her melodic voice and he agreed, going to bed with her and leaving the textbook open. The next day would be his day off after all. He’d have enough time to study what he needed to study.

Or so he thought.

6 am brought news he hadn’t expected and he dreaded with all his heart. A phone call came in and he reached for his work phone, holding Y/N closer to him as she put her head on his chest, stirring slightly. In a sleepy voice, he answered, “Hello?”

“Shirabu, we need you at the hospital right now. Our best surgeon’s out somewhere else and it’s craniectomy. You’re the only one we know that knows at least the basics for this, everyone else is one level behind you.”

With that last word, his heart started racing in his chest, almost dropping his phone. He hadn’t studied enough for this. He only knew the basics. He was replacing the best surgeon. Shirabu cursed softly as he wished he hadn’t listened to Y/N and kept studying. “I’ll be right there.”

Quickly getting out of bed, Y/N turned over in their shared bed. She didn’t have to worry about being called immediately, he thought. She got to sleep in without any worry. Just the thought made him feel a little envious, but no matter, he couldn’t think of it right now.

Racing to the hospital and entering the room, he started getting ready for the procedure.

Blood was on his hands. Literally and figuratively. It was all his fault. It was his fault the patient had died, he was not prepared enough, no matter what anyone had said. If only he had actually studied and ignored Y/N, he wouldn’t be in this position.

“You can go now.” His supervisor said solemnly. Shirabu could feel the disappointment radiating off of him as he hurried out of the hospital and into his car. He got back home to Y/N sitting on the couch, reading a book.

She heard the door open and merely said, “Hey, honey, how did it--”

“I’m a murderer.” He whispered, staring at the floor as he collapsed against the door. “I should’ve studied more, I should’ve stayed up studying.” He looked up at her, desperation in his eyes. “Why did you stop me?”

Y/N set her book aside, standing up but not moving over to him. “What? Kenjirou, it can’t have been that bad--”

“Yes, it was! Because I didn’t study, I killed someone innocent, someone that expected to get out of there alive and I wasn’t able to do it!” Shirabu was grabbing fistfuls of his hair, hyperventilating. It was a normal thing in a doctor’s life for some patients to pass away under their hands, but Shirabu was brand new to that scene.

“Shirabu, calm down, it was your first craniecto--”

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN I JUST KILLED SOMEONE!” Shirabu screamed, his eyes becoming bloodshot. Never once had Shirabu lost his cool and yelled at her like that. She stepped back and stared at him, wringing her hands. Already, she was feeling guilty for what she had done, but how could she have known?

“You didn’t kill anyone, you didn’t know.”

“Which is why I should’ve paid attention and studied beforehand, but I didn’t do that, so now I’m a murderer!” Shirabu was losing his common sense and nothing could calm him down, except himself. Which is exactly what he did as he glowered at Y/N. “Why did you stop me?”

“Kenjirou, if you didn’t sleep, it would’ve been worse for you.”

“But they would’ve still been alive.” A dark smile came on his face. “So it’s not my fault. It’s yours.”

Y/N looked at him as if he had gone insane. “It’s MY fault for me wanting you to get some sleep?! I’m sorry, but what kind of logic is that?!”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.” Shirabu told her, clenching his fists. “Sorry doesn’t bring back a dead person and sorry does not fix this situation! Because of you, now my job is on the line!”

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “Because of me? Shirabu, are you even listening to yourself? You’re being delusional, you’ve been suffering from delusions of grandeur for all of your life and now that I try to help you once, the blame is on me?”

“I guess it is.” He said bluntly, not even looking at her. “Just go. I don’t want to see you.”

Y/N was taken aback at his words and she swallowed, the lump in her throat growing bigger. Her voice came out shakily as she said. “So this is it? After all we’ve been through?”

Shirabu didn’t say anything as she left the room, going up to their bedroom and slammed the door. The sound brought him back to reality and he immediately felt guilty for what he had done.

Hours later, after he had calmed down, he went back to the bedroom to try and apologize. But she was gone. Every trace of her, except for picture frames was gone. The bed was untidy and all her things, gone with her.

No. No, she can’t have left, I didn’t mean for her to leave. Shirabu rushed around the room, trying to find a hint as to where she went. But seeing as he was a doctor and not a profiler, he did not have the slightest idea as to where he had gone.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he hugged her pillow to him, trying to get the comfort she used to give him before he blurted what he could never take back. He buried his face in the pillow, stifling a sob that was rising in his throat. Her familiar scent was slowly leaving the object, a metaphor for her leaving him.

Why was I so stupid? Why did I tell her to leave? All of these years together and she left, because I was ignorant and stupid and believed it was her fault when it was neither of our faults.

What felt like a century later, he looked at the clock. 8 pm. Something glinted off of the cabinet. He stood up and picked up the shimmering object, followed by a long trail of gold. A promise ring on a necklace.

“Here.” Shirabu handed the object to her. “It’s a promise ring. I promise to never hurt you and never leave you and never cause you to leave me. I promise to protect you and be by your side whenever you need me.”

She had also given him a promise ring the next day, promising to always be by his side.

Some promises were never supposed to be made.

Taglist: @skyguy-peach @jovialnoise @versatilewindow @tsukiibaka @jaegersblogh @kodzuken-pie @sugusho @kara-grayson04 @erialexerz @attixca @volleybloop @selca11

#angstember #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjirou x reader #shirabu x y/n #shirabu kenjirou x y/n #shirabu x you #shirabu kenjirou x you #shirabu angst #shirabu kenjirou angst

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derangedhyena-zoids · 4 years ago

Text

I guess now that I featured The Kids in something I can elaborate on them and everything related slightly without seeming completely insane. BIG HEADCANON BLATHER TIME: Raven and Ryss had 2 kids, both boys.

Ryss wasn’t a terribly good mother. She loved her kids but was a little panicked about them at all times, and didn’t really like the distraction they were. Specula was a good mother and did the majority of keeping them out of trouble.

They were also psychic as fuck, but that didn’t show up until they were hitting puberty. I’m sure that was an entire Time.

Ryss literally didn’t think she could get pregnant by Raven. She based this off of both what she’d been taught by Hiltz (humans=/=Zoidians) and the fact that Fiona had never been pregnant despite sleeping with Van for years*. So, once Ryss figured out she was pregnant**, telling Raven was a bit of an event because Raven was under the impression that such a thing wasn’t possible. He also had little interest in being a parent. Ryss also had no idea what pregnancy even entailed for a Zoidian, and neither did Fiona. Again, all she knew was what she’d learned from Hiltz, and it wasn’t as if he went out of his way to teach her the finer points of anything. (Knowledge is power after all, and he wanted wanted to hold as much power over her as possible. What she didn’t know to begin with, she couldn’t know was being withheld. All she knew from Hiltz on the topic was Zoidian pregnancies are of a greater duration than human pregnancies - mainly because he’d irritably snapped about how ‘the vermin’ reproduce faster.) Raven’s main reluctance about parenting had to do with... you know, his massive unresolved parental trauma. Which after some extreme stress he and Ryss managed to work through, largely because they had a lot in common in this department. Afterwards Raven warmed up to the idea of being a father, and was... well, Okay.jpg at it. Let’s just say he had Shadow helping Specula with the kids a lot. ...the kids were raised by Organoids. SO.

An attempt was made to keep track of Ryss and her offspring, especially after Raven’s death and she began to make herself scarce. But nobody expected the kids to be psychic af, and they quickly sussed out that something was up and followed their mom’s lead, making themselves and their families impossible to find. ....

The Guardian Force pretty quickly lost tabs on them, but did know what to “look for”, so to speak.

However, this attempt was never linked up with the information the Empire had on Ryss, mainly because too much time had passed and no one knew to bridge the info.

Anyways. All three Zoidians were aware there were differences between themselves and humans, Hiltz more than most. Hiltz was the only one of them that had an adult level of knowledge from Zoidian times. Fiona and Ryss were literal children and were only ever, at best, taught the very basics about things. Part and parcel of subscribing wholesale to the we’re-the-best group’s newsletter, Hiltz also a keen interest in biology/related, obviously interested in scholars of that group’s discussion on what amounted to Zoidian eugenics. ‘we’re the best, and here’s why.’ Hiltz didn’t even remotely consider that humans and Zoidians could hybridize, nor was he interested in finding out. (though he had well-established to Prozen and the Imperial scientists his “ownership” of Ryss and the fact she was not to be messed with, I’m sure he had to mindfuck and/or sic Ambient on a swath of folks to get them to stop bothering him about jizzing in a cup.)***

Joke’s on him because he fathered *at least* these three:

while living in the small colony with the scholar.

because he, Hiltz, the weird guy, was hot, amazing in bed, and quite DTF. scholar: ... Hiltz: (ツ) scholar: ... Hiltz: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ scholar: ...sure, whatever, what could it hurt anyways ^^^THESE FOLKS HAD A TIME. Unlike with Ryss’s kids, who at least had a slight understanding they were different and some guidance on the situation, any and all of Hiltz’s offspring HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON. And not that any of the fertility restrictions were enacted at this point in time (there’s wars, you live in the wild west, please have kids), but the addition of Zoidian into the mix fucks the inbuilt population-control-genetic-engineering-bullshit straight up, which resulted later in a lot of confusing surprises for people annnnnd is part of why miscarriages became common later down the line.

Nobody expected the spanish inquisition weird side-species fuckery. Nobody even knows to look! By NC0 times there’s just starting to be coherent, unified inquiry into the various vanilla-human mutations running around.

WHOOPS THO: Backdraft & Co have been at this shit for a while and already know a lot about this. Because they have a hard-on for the Empire and a lot of OG Backdraft are basically really rich, bitter offspring from Imperial families who think they’re better in just about every way. Including genetically. When Backdraft became predominantly a moneymaking, black-market, illegal-battling underground enterprise, a rift began and never stopped growing. Backdraft has a strong preference for recruiting folks of Guylos descent (hi, Bit), but in recent memory had stopped turning people away for not being so. Because money. It did kinda... go in peoples’ file though. In the game of historical telephone, Ryss (and Raven’s) bloodline were more or less demoted to the same: ‘from Guylos.’ Alteil was in range of figuring a few important things out. Unfortunately, HE DED. His successor with this information is Layon. Surely nothing can go wrong there. ANYWAYS. A massive and valid concern Ryss had was what would happen with hybrid offspring, since to her knowledge her kid would be the first. Hiltz’s were already adults, they were fine. They were better than fine, they just needed a lot more water and salt than everyone else. So, as we all know, Hiltz uh, actually succeeded in removing a sizable chunk of the human population on Zi. Once everyone had scraped semi-functional society back together, the powers that-were-to-be basically prioritized secure settlements and making everyone feel safe so... you know, they’d have kids. Important for the whole rebuilding society thing. The Zoidian offspring became slightly more statistically relevant during this time, because them and potentially even their kids had all been scared shitless and fled into the hills from the Death Stinger bullshit long before anyone else had. Once there they were good at Not Dying In General, because they had a variety of inexplicable abilities and were just WELL I’M A FREAK BUT I’M ALIVE SO, YOU KNOW, WE’RE COOL.

Greater than zero chance that someone started a cult. Very, very obviously: these folks knew to keep to themselves. Though the original offspring and their mother had NO idea what was going on, over time any kids at least had fair warning, and knew to keep oddity to themselves. When the most blatant expressions of things were bred out, only the subtle but strongly expressed items remained, discussion of familial strangeness subsided. Then you’re left with people like Brad who can basically see in the dark, but thinks everyone can see in the dark, it’s no big deal right? RELATED, BUT NOT: This is technically a spoiler, but not really, because I’m not sure this actually “plays into the plot” so much as it is just “a fact of the plot” annnnnd I sort of want/need to explain this a little because it’s related to all of this. In this hc, the Zoid Eve is a metaphorical hyper-simplification of ‘resources.’

Back in Zoidian times, some scholars - namely those aligned with the group(s) Hiltz was eventually born into - theorized that the Zoid Eve’s power was not an infinite resource as many believed, but actually an incredibly finite one. Not in the sense of it being used up, but the sense of “there are only ‘100′ of these, there will only ever be ‘100′ of these, we cannot add to or take away from this” (sidenote: I subscribe to the idea that the Zoid Eve was some kind of supernaturally-occurring power source that the Zoidians shaped into what everyone now calls the Zoid Eve. They did this so long ago that its origins became unclear; beliefs from various groups ran the gamut from “LITERALLY GOD” to “it was built by us”) The power of it gave life and longevity not only to all Zoids but them too. And it seemed that the more individuals there were, the smaller the “slice of the pie” they received. They began to project apocalyptic futures in which the “slices” were so small that death ran rampant, and Big War would be inevitable. Obviously, nobody wanted this. But unfortunately the group who theorized this also started a huge, lengthy campaign to reduce the population, which - after many years, a lot of societal sabotage and and many smaller conflicts between groups - eventually culminated in ongoing, wholesale slaughter, which led to the big Zoidian-apocalypse nonsense that we’re all familiar with. Cool story bro, right? Well, y’see, those ancient scholars weren’t wrong, though. To an extent that’s actually what led to the hyper-concentration of strength in the DSaurer/DScorpion battle, and why Zero and One are functionally god-tier Organoids. But what this means in modern times, is that the remaining Zoidians - and to a proportionately-relevant extent, the hybrid offspring - are the only remaining folks (besides the Organoids and Zoids) benefiting from the pie anymore. Ryss is the last Zoidian; she’s basically non-aging at this point.

First-gen hybrids? Aging at a complete snail’s pace. Second gen? Still having a very strange time. So on and so forth... Can they die? Absolutely, but it’s pretty hard to kill them. Basically only complete destruction of vital parts works. Does this also apply to Organoids and Zoids? Absolutely. “then why’s Fiona dead” Because the double-bond with Zeke seriously fucked her up. Van dragged her down, hard. “but-” Zeke could’ve pulled away from her at any time and she would’ve lived. Been a nutcase probably, but lived. She suspected it, Zeke was outright in denial; she never called him on it because she cared about him too much and didn’t want him blaming himself for whatever happened. This is what Ryss suspected/understood as well, and likewise didn’t want to break Zeke. “wait, what about zeke?” HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM IN CLOSING: I don’t have names for any of the offspring discussed here, but I have thought about the appearances/other stuff. Obviously. I’ve never specified how many original offspring(s) were running around. But it couldn’t have been too many. So anyone in NC0 times related to either Ryss or Hiltz can trace back to ^^^the folks pictured above, most likely. I actually have no idea how to properly calculate the amount of population vs how much impact a handful of reproducing individuals would have over x generations. So please excuse vagueness there, as I’m both open to adjusting that number when/if it becomes feasible to do so, and also don’t think it’s terribly necessary to have this information nailed down because let’s be real nobody cares and that’s a lot of work. Also as I’ve mentioned before, there’s several serious confounding factors here: -these people can LIVE A LONG TIME. The original hybrids and their kids ARE POTENTIALLY STILL ALIVE. They mature relatively rapidly, but then coast into a very slow aging process. That means that - especially the males - could still technically be producing offspring. -that makes my head hurt and makes figuring out lineages stupid nightmare mode. so don’t expect me to actually do that because I’m not sure how to. The main Facts(tm) you need are: Sara is 4th gen. Vega is 5th gen x2. Brad is 5th gen. Stoller is 7th gen.

that’s the important part, okay. (*’s from earlier: ) *tl;dr the bizarre situation they’d inadvertently created with Zeke wreaked havoc on Fiona’s ability to reproduce. Conversely, Raven and Ryss *almost* had a ‘proper’ setup, so Ryss was fine. Nobody knew this. **Ryss figured this out with Fiona’s help - and who did they both go to, to ask in confidence?

Yep. ”isn’t he-” YEP. ***The Empire knows next to nothing about Hiltz. The Republic, however has AN OBSCENE AMOUNT of information about him. Difficulty level? The data was both classified, and never really tied back to him. Because Hiltz murdered the scholar and burned down his house/lab, the connecting information was all lost. The scholar had moved the material to his house in secret, due to fears of an Imperial spy in their research facility - he was telling Hiltz the truth. The most that the Empire ever learned at that time was that the Republic had “captured” a Zoidian (Hiltz), and that was about it. This drove the fervor which led to them grabbing at the Republic’s continued excavations - eg what happened with Shadow, and presumably them attacking (and IMO, overpowering) the Republic group that’d also seized Ryss. Before Hiltz became involved, Imperial scientists gleaned a lot about Ryss, but as I’ve mentioned before, she wasn’t treated anywhere nearly as poorly as Hiltz had been. She also had Specula, which helped a lot. So, the Empire knew nothing of Hiltz, but a lot about Ryss. Thanks to Alteil and his predecessor’s longstanding obsession with the Imperial military, Backdraft has almost all of the Imperial military’s data from the past few centuries. Ergo...

#headcanon #long post #spoilers kinda?#in this house everything is a MESS

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zet-sway · 3 years ago

Note

For the character development questions: 1, 9, 23, 24, 25, 30. If you just wanna do one per ask, then 30!

Thank you!!! This is gonna be a long post so lemme just throw down a readmore right off the bat. [questions be here]

Ok for starters I'm going to answer these as they pertain to my Thane survives AU story arc thing that I'm trying and hating myself for but also loving at the same time lol

1. What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…”

Ahhsjflsd great question ok ok. I strongly headcanon Thane as demisexual and also bisexual. Yes there are people who strike his fancy but he needs something more to really grab his attention and "open his eyes," so to speak. And for him, that moment is specifically when they're on their way to Rakhana to pick up his donor lungs. At this point, he hasn't agreed to the transplant, but when they arrive Shepard is just like "yeah I'm going down there to pick up those lungs whether you like it or not." He agrees to go with her - because even if he isn't going to take them, he knows better than to let them go to waste. By now he's impressed with her as a leader but this moment really tugs at his heart. She shares his determination to get the job done, for the same reasons. It's a time sensitive mission and even if they don't save his life, they'll save someone else's life. That really strikes a chord in him. And suddenly he has a big fucking crush on a human.

Shepard is just like, "yes this man is hot," on day one. At first it's just his body and the similarities he shares with humans. But the more time she spends with him, the more she comes to find his alien features very attractive as well. She's particularly fond of that dark spot under his lip.

9. What do they think about commitment? Is a long-term partnership the goal? Are they thinking about building a life with their partner, or are they focused on the present?

At first, they aren't too worried about commitment, because neither of them expects to live very long. There's a moment where they have a strong "honeymoon phase" moment after the Collector base, but once the reaper war gets going they're both hanging on for dear life. Actually I'm debating whether or not they'll elope, because Shepard knows she could be court martialed and if they're married they *might* have some speaking or visitation privileges (disclaimer - I have no idea how being court martialed works in real life).

After the war they can't imagine being apart. By then they've shared so many insane experiences that even if they were unhappy in their relationship, they'd be sad to lose someone that understands their struggles. In my AU, Shepard retires early from the Alliance and does some traveling with Thane before returning to Earth and becoming a fucking farmer. I'm probably going to write about this because it makes a lot of sense to me but requires a lot of words to explain lol

23. How comfortable are they talking about, and openly communicating during, sex?

THANK YOU for asking this. I was afraid everyone would be too nervous to ask any of the sex questions. I'm a smut writer - I'm extremely sex-positive as well. My libido may be terrible but I'll damn sure talk about it all day lol

I headcanon Thane as a deeply sensual person. Touch is his love language. Especially considering he's a terrifying neck snapping assassin, he delights in being able to give pleasure as easily as he's able to take life. I don't mean to say he "delights" in taking life here, I'm intending to highlight a contrast that his hands are capable of both extremes on the touch spectrum. He's a romantic but he's also real about it - open communication is very important to him in the bedroom. That fanfic I'm working on? It's all there lol. But basically I think Thane talks about sex with ease, it's an important part of a relationship for him, and he isn't shy about it. He'd be willing to try (nearly) anything for his partner's pleasure.

In contrast, my Shepard has a totally different sexual background. She's had few partners and most of them were limited to fooling around or she just got unlucky enough to have a guy who "fingers like he just dropped his pick in his guitar and he's trying to fish it out" - I can't take credit for that one but I don't remember where I read it lol. Sex has been lackluster for her. I wouldn't say she's shy, she's vocal and able to communicate in the bedroom, but her previous partners have just been dumb as rocks so her expectations are low. I'd say she's good at communicating what she doesn't like, and she's shit at saying what she does like.

24. What would their partner do that would really turn them on, perhaps unintentionally?

*Thane sweating loudly while watching Shep grab her own boobs* Literally any context. She's showering, or itchy, or horny, or just bored, whatever. He likes watching her do it.

Shepard will never ever ever get tired of watching him stretch. Especially if he's in any way undressed. It's his stripes - she loves the way they move when he moves. She also loves watching him talk with his hands because there's something intensely exciting about knowing what his hands can do while simultaneously watching him just ~wave them around~ while he talks. Pic related.

25. They accidentally hurt or upset their partner. What happened? How do they respond? What do they do to make their partner feel better?

Thane makes Shepard upset in my latest WIP. But it's also like, my proudest moment of this fic so I'm not going to elaborate on this. I know I was shooting to have it finished this week but it just keeps getting longer and more out of control T_T I am trying!

Also they are not together at this moment but Thane get's very upset when Shepard puts him on the transplant list. I started writing this moment actually but it's not smut or fluff so of course I'm struggling with it. He's going to sit her down and explain how a lung transplant will cost two lives for him. The life of the individual who didn't make it because they got bumped down, as well as the life of the donor - natural causes or not. But related to question #1 above, she redeems herself by seeing the mission through to the end even though he hasn't agreed to the transplant.

30. What completely petty topic (music taste, favorite food) do they find themselves completely at odds with their partner about?

This is probably the hardest question on this list HMMM

Thane's not a coffee drinker. This is kind of a cop-out answer but that's my headcanon. I oscillate between him being coffee-repulsed or coffee-ambivalent. Either way, it's too rich for him.

Shepard eventually comes to insist that he be outfitted for a proper hardsuit, and he is adamant about not getting one. "You'll be so much better protected!" "Yeah well my scales are a little more durable than your skin plus I need the mobility." Maybe, deep down inside, she just wants to see him in a hardsuit cause she thinks it would be hot >_>

#the frozen sea au #ask zet sway #ask game #damn thank you for this #i really had to use my brain cells and thats why i'm doing this :)))) :D

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robotslenderman · 4 years ago

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For the 21 questions otp ask, Elisa/Lettow, 3, 6, 11 and 12. I hope that wasn’t too much for you 😊

:3!!!!

OTP ask box game.

3. What is your favourite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?

Favourite AU is the one where Lettow didn’t lose track of Elisa and managed to adopt her.

It did... not work out well at first, lol. Lettow had severe depression and had never had a childe before and had no idea what to do with her. Elisa had gone absolutely feral after three months of surviving night-to-night and sleeping in burrows she’d dug herself.

Over those three months Elisa had slowly gone batshit insane. In canon, Lampago scraped her out of it and taught her some survival skills, but this takes place earlier, before Elisa could do anything more than solve intra-kindred issues with “run away or claw their face off.” So in this AU Elisa has gone from a kind, generous and loving vet nurse that loved animals... to this near-wight who actually killed a couple of kindred over territory disputes.

Basically, she couldn’t control her Beast and was getting awfully close to wighting herself. In canon this was reversed by her watching Lampago and fighting hard not to be like her -- in this AU she doesn’t have a bad example to warn her away from going down that path, so she keeps indulging the Beast’s impulses by killing her prey and anyone trying to claim her territory.

Eventually it got bad enough that Lettow intervened before the Prince could put a blood hunt on her head (or his).

At first Lettow had a hard problem just keeping her around -- Elisa kept running away because she’d be overwhelmed or pissed off enough. Each time Lettow would give her a few nights then reappear at her burrow and talk her into coming back, because if she stayed out on her own there was no way she wouldn’t wind up killing someone else and he was highkey really worried the Prince would have her executed.

(Dove thought this was hilarious and that Lettow reaped what he sowed. “You left her so she could learn to survive on her own. Well, now she’s trying to do what you wanted her to do!”)

Needless to say, Elisa developed a Reputation among the Kindred of Tucson for being Lettow’s feral, low-humanity brat.

It did reach a turning point. In canon Lettow wouldn’t give her Stellaluna for thirty years, but in this one he had the same idea and gifted her her own famulus -- that little vampire bat she named Stellaluna. A bit of Elisa’s old humanity came back enough at the gesture that he was able to get through to her, and bond with her through teaching her animalism. Her love for Stellaluna, and her being touched at Lettow’s gesture, was a counterbalance to the Beast.

Yep, that’s right, Elisa had an emotional support vampire bat.

He’d been so desperate he’d seriously considered blood binding her to him until they both got her out of it; a blood bond would have made her so attached to him and desperate to please him it would have given her positive emotions to help lift her out of it instead of primal instinct and impulse, and would have given her willpower to fight her Beast at his behest.

Years later, she’d mention to Lettow that she attributed this phase of her life to severe depression. And he’d be like, “no, you weren’t depressed, you were turning into a wight.”

6. Least favourite canon moment of them?

I honestly can’t think of any explicit moments. All that comes to mind are concepts (that Elisa couldn’t bitch at Lettow about the blood bag thing) or moments that aren’t their moment (Lettow’s bizarre response to Jasper’s torture of Modian and his callousness to Dove), or something that isn’t even a moment (lack of more Reremouse-like missions in-game where you get to work with him hands on!).

11. If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?

Their relationship didn’t happen as it did in canon.

Basically, canon moved too fast for them. Elisa strongly resented Lettow at least until the midpoint where he offered her the final three jobs, and she was terrified of him for the whole game except the epilogue because she kept waiting for him to throw her under the bus (the first half) or execute her for Diablerie (the second half). Even after he confronted her about Aila, she was mostly convinced that him having her be the bait was his attempt at killing her without having to execute her.

(Years later he’d tell her that that was sincerely not the case -- that he had her be bait because he firmly believed she could survive anything.)

Needless to say, that’s... not a healthy base for a relationship, even though she was crushing damn hard by the end of the game and was genuinely upset that he didn’t even intend to say goodbye.

But they did get together. After Lettow returned from the Middle East Dove wanted Elisa to do some dangerous jobs and was like, “hey, why don’t we get mister fucking invincible to play bodyguard?”

Lettow was genuinely surprised at how emotional she was at his return -- she would’ve been brought to tears if she could cry. They bonded better this time around, as equals. They talked about Aila and laid that to rest -- it was harder for Elisa to talk about than Lettow. Elisa talked about how Aila was still around. Lettow talked about how he resented Aila for leaving him and letting herself get Diablerised. Elisa got to be turned on by watching him beat the crap out of people who tried to hurt her.

But it was a slow burn because, well. Elisa ate his wife so how could she, in good conscience, ever make a move on him? And on Lettow’s side -- he absolutely despised himself and thought he wasn’t good enough for Aila to stay awake or even alive, and if Aila hated him so fucking much she basically killed herself and put an (in his mind) innocent childe at risk to get away from him, how could he possibly make Elisa happy?

Cue months of mutual pining, and occasionally doing couple things like sharing a bed or cuddling without acknowledging them as couple things.

At one point Lettow bites off more than he can chew even by his standards, which Elisa was able to see plain as day at the time. Their usual tactics when overwhelmed was for Lettow to distract the attackers and for Elisa to run, but this time the opposition was so overwhelming that Elisa knew if she ran Lettow would get destroyed, so she refused to run, which only made things more dangerous for both of them. They had a huge argument about it -- Elisa accusing Lettow of trying to kill himself, Lettow accusing Elisa of being an idiot who didn’t trust him to do his job -- but the whole “oh my god the other person almost DIED” helped them realise that

hey

maybe they should stop letting the Aila thing get in the way and just... get together anyway.

Because they loved each other.

So they did.

And they’ve been together ever since.

12. If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?

Ooof I really had to think about this one.

There’s no one fandom I’d put them in, but I went into a lot of detail with just one so here’s the one I did:

Subnautica -- Human AU. Elisa is a courier on the Aurora delivering classified governmental data, stuff too important to trust to the post or the internet (or extranet, as it would be). She becomes the only survivor of its crash on 4546B. She feels guilty about falling in love with the planet she’s on and genuinely enjoying much of her time there (when she’s not pissing herself in fear) while knowing at home she has a boyfriend/husband who must be absolutely frantic with worry. She keeps a video diary of her survival there and documents the world as best as she can, tries to find other survivors, and wonders if she’ll ever make it out alive and see Lettow and her parents again -- and if she’ll ever be able to come back if she does.

Meanwhile Lettow is losing his shit, alternating between thinking she’s dead and hoping she’s alive. His subplot is him getting in touch with the loved ones of other survivors and harassing Alterra into mounting a rescue; his hopes are shot down, quite literally, with the discovery of the orbital canon and the fate of the Sunbeam. Alterra is refusing to destroy the orbital canon because uhh we don’t want war with ALIENS??? WE’VE GOT NO DIPLOMATIC TIES WITH ANY ALIENS??? DESTROYING IT MIGHT GET US ALL KILLED???,

but they have a satellite in orbit, out of range of the canon, and it’s looking for evidence of survivors. And it’s been picking up activity -- somebody they can’t identify swimming around near a life pod, or moving on one of the islands, or moving around the Aurora. It’s only when she one day takes a nap on the beach near the orbital canon, her face up to the sky, that they’re able to identify the first survivor -- Elisa Mulgrew, government worker.

That picture of her sleeping face and wet hair makes headlines across multiple systems.

So Lettow finds out she’s alive -- but there’s nothing he can do to bring her home. Nothing. And he doesn’t know how long she’ll live for, or how long Alterra will keep up the expense of the satellite. Because over time it’s becoming clear that Alterra is sinking millions into these efforts and there’s no evidence of any other survivors. There’s only camera recordings of one vehicle moving at a time, one person moving at a time, and the only person they’ve ever managed to record always has the same reddish-brown hair as Elisa. Alterra are trying to stop the search because they see it as essentially wasting millions on one person, who’s “only” a courier, who they can’t even save.

The only reason they’ve been humouring people this long is because of the amount of anti-Alterra political sentiment being whipped up in the wake of the disaster and Alterra’s handling of it, and how many people even within Alterra are upset about the whole thing, and how many people are behind the families of the people who were on the Aurora. And with less and less evidence that anyone other than Elisa survived, even they are starting to lose interest.

Yeah Lettow really copes badly in this AU. “Barely gets out of bed each day” badly.

(When Elisa eventually gets home she leaks the “the usual” audio, which starts a whole new wave of people being mad at Alterra and the guy on it almost certainly getting fired so hard nobody will ever employ him again. Elisa actually feels kind of bad for him.)

#missn11 #VTM #VTMNR #Elisa Mulgrew #Lettow Kaminsky #Subnautica #headcanon #aus and things

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benisasoftboi · 4 years ago

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Unorganised thoughts on Trails of Cold Steel II:

they still haven’t told me why it’s Class VII

So I liked this WAY more than CS1, thumbs up

I am annoyed that the only new location was Ymir (WHAT A COINCIDENCE that all the important places in the war were specifically ones Rean had been to already)

I just really wanna go to Parm idk

Bless Anton for showing up right at the end and giving me just enough AP to make A0

(fav Anton and Ricky subplot yet, god I love those guys)

I LOVED how tactile all the reunions were! I love it when fictional characters hug it makes me happy

I found it extremely funny that the final boss straight up tells the characters ‘hey, there’s literally no point to fighting me, you’ll gain nothing except closure I guess’ like that’s VERY on the nose and meta for a final boss

The game does have some real ending fatigue though, I don’t think we needed the epilogue

I did like the final boss though - up until that point, I had become so good at using my Dream Team of Rean, Elliot, Machias and Jusis (or Nuke-sis, as I call him, for his insane levels of arts damage output) that everything had got kinda dull for me. But final boss was actually a challenge, I had to think rather than just using the strategy that had worked on everything else

Which was Rean delays, Elliot heals/deals arts damage, Jusis drops arts nukes, and Machias does miscellaneous support/uses his link ability to keep Jusis’s EP topped up

Oh yeah I had them linked through pretty much the whole game and they hated it and it was super funny

So OH MAN, in their linked victory battle ending screen thing, Jusis goes ‘not bad, you actually held your own for once’

And it’s a little muffled, so the first time I heard it I swear I thought Machias responded with ‘you know what you can hold? Your damn top!’ and I dropped my controller. Had to go out of my way to win another battle with a link attack because no, no way-

He said ‘tongue’

Anyway, characters!

Rean: Immediately upon starting up the game I found Ride Along Estelle in my DLC inventory and equipped it in the hopes that it would inspire Rean to be a better protagonist. It... kinda worked? I don’t hate him anymore, and I was pretty hyped to learn he was Osbourne’s son

And then Lloyd showed up immediately afterwards and I was like ‘oh wait here’s a protagonist I actually LOVE, nvm bye Rean lol’

Alisa: I literally never use Alisa unless the game makes me lol she was there and I don’t hate her but also I cannot remember a single interesting thing she did. Even during her one bit of plot relevance she was overshadowed by Angelica it’s hilarious that the marketing makes her out to be the deteuragonist

Elliot: A GOOD BOY who served me incredibly well with his off the charts healing crafts, I can’t believe I started CS1 not liking him much and thinking him useless. I love the little dance he does in his idle animation

Laura: I still like Laura, I wish she was more plot relevant. I don’t feel strongly about her, but she’s always a welcome addition to any scene

Machias: Unpopular opinion probably but I really like him, even if his outfit in this game was awful. So are his alt outfits. Fashion disaster. I bought him contact lenses from a shady highway business man because he looks better without glasses. I made him ludicrously bulky, if he’d just had some kind of taunt craft to protect Jusis (squishy mage) with he’d be a perfect tank

I’m a fan of him in a ‘this is my trash son’ kind of way lol

Emma: Uhhh kinda boring which is impressive since she’s actually important and pseudo-related to Vita and all. Btw I guessed she was a witch in chapter goddamn three of CS1 after reading the folklore book, and I find it extremely wild that it’s either a dragged out, foregone conclusion if you have read the book, OR witches even existing is completely out of nowhere if you haven’t

Jusis: My favourite, because I’m basic. But like, he’s seriously the most interesting of the guys, and I made him Rean’s best friend (only one I got to rank 7 with lol). And his bonding event in Bareahard was so gooood!

I find it incredibly funny that he insists he and Machias aren’t friends because 1. Yes you are and 2. Do you even have any other non-Rean friends, guy? You literally never hang out with anyone else unless it’s plot related

Still low key ship it. Enjoy that Rean does too, apparently. Still reeling over their Trial Chest’s quote

His second S-Craft is ridiculous looking

Fie: Most interesting girl, love how she just doesn’t get flustered ever, funniest character, best girl in the game, what the HELL was that outfit

Gaius: I keep forgetting Gaius exists lol. I don’t dislike him, but he’s not very interesting to me. He’s Zin, or Noel

Millium: Man do I want to know more about Millium. Her whole thing about learning to cry... so sad and SO fascinating. What is the deal with her and Altina?!?

Sara: I hated Sara at the start of CS1. Now I adore her. God she’s just the best. Please let her interact with Schera please please please Falcom

Towa: Cutest! She’s so cute and I still love her and I did her final event even though she is TOO GOOD for Rean! She got to be a captain! I love her!

As for more minor characters - still think Angie’s great, just wish she wasn’t kinda creepy about her love of girls, deeply dislike that the game ship teases her and GEORGE, who I still otherwise find inoffensive but also, you know, male, Alfin is great, Toval is great too and I still can’t get over him being Toby, stop teasing Claire with Rean let there be one woman who isn’t into him please, oh good Sharon’s here and they don’t do that with her and she’s awesome also can’t believe I used to not like her, more Olivier always please, same with Mueller, Celine is Morgana from P5 except better in every conceivable way, Crow :(, all the Ouroboros lot are great as always, and Elise is easily my least favourite character in this franchise and can get in the sun for all I care

I read a transcript of the drama CD and hey Rean’s dad can also get in the sun for saying that his adopted son isn’t good enough to marry his biological daughter like where do you even start-

I love that I’ve gone from reacting to Ouroboros appearances like ‘oh shit oh no’ to going ‘oh shit it’s these fucking clowns (affectionate) again’

Still love Beryl. Also love Lambert

When they mentioned ‘Mueller’s friend’ I thought it would be Julia and I was so excited and then so disappointed that it was Neithardt who I still don’t like

Elliot’s dad looks ridiculous riding on top of that tank

I loved riding the bike around SO MUCH, even if it took me a while to get a hang of the controls

Aurelia Le Guin is just Edelgard Fire Emblem, right? And Bardias is Claude? Except I guess this game came first, so like, other way around

Man I loved flying around on the Courageous. Also I FINALLY got a map, all I wanted in CS1 was to see a map of the country

However, Act 1 was definitely my favourite part - the sequence where the kids have to sneak through the railway lines under the bridge to get to Garrelia is one of my favourite parts of this entire series. I kind of wanted the whole game to just be this group of teenagers trying to lay low and survive a civil war while also travelling and helping out from place to place

I uh... I want JRPG Life is Strange 2

Why is there a snowboarding minigame. I mean, I loved it, but... why is it there?

I still really miss the old battle orbment designs from Sky. The ARCUSs just aren’t as cool :(

I watched the secret Black Records scene on YouTube and I am so happy to finally have an explanation for Rosine, it was really bothering me that she seemed so out of place at a military academy

I’m very very hype to play CS3 based on the spoilers I have for who will be making appearances...

Seriously why is everything in these games azure though just say blue-

#trails of cold steel 2 #trails of cold steel #trails series #kiseki series #long post #erebonia arc

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thebluemartini · 5 years ago

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Fanfiction - Wife [Serpent & Dove Book Series - Lou/Reid]

TITLE: Wife

FANDOM: Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

SHIP: Louise le Blanc/Reid Diggory

SYNOPSIS: As Reid and Lou and the rest of the group make their way to Coco's coven, Lou needs some reassurance from Reid that she's his wife. (basically a short fluffy scene between the two of them)

FIC LENGTH: One-shot

RATING: Teen and Up Audiences

A/N: So I read Serpent & Dove earlier this week (in an attempt to heal my Reylo/Star Wars feels) and now I am OBSESSED. I had to write a little something for Lou/Reid. It’s a bit inspired by the ending to the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice.

*This is also posted on AO3 and FF

________________________________________________________________

It was his turn to keep watch that night as their group paused their long trek through the forest to Coco’s coven for some rest.

He may have been exhausted and fighting to keep his eyelids open, but for her, it was all worth it.

Everything was worth it to protect her, to touch her, to have her here just like this - with her head upon his lap as she slept - and to keep her as his wife.

Reid gently ran his fingers through her hair as she slept soundly, careful not to wake her. Doing so brought back memories of several weeks prior, when she taught him how to braid her hair. He couldn’t help but smile.

The journey of their relationship had been an insane one, to say the least. One might have thought it would be impossible for a witch hunter to fall in love with a witch, yet here they were.

He couldn’t comprehend how a brazen, strong, silly, wonderful woman could love a ridiculously conscientious stick-in-the-mud like him.

At some point during his reverie, his fingers had stopped stroking Lou’s hair. He didn’t realize it until he heard Lou begin to whimper.

“But I am your wife,” she pleaded in her sleep. “I am.”

Reid’s eyes widened in alarm as he heard her mumblings. He brought his hand to her shoulder to gently shake her in hopes of taking her away from whatever awful dream she was having. The second his hand touched her, her eyes shot open to find him staring down at her.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached her hand up to touch his stubbled cheek. Slowly, a smile spread across her face.

“What were you dreaming about?” he whispered as he resumed running his fingers through her hair.

“Nothing worth talking about,” she remarked calmly.

Reid frowned. “It didn’t seem like a pleasant dream. I just heard you say ‘But I am your wife ’ in your sleep.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted.

“Lou,” he said sternly. “I want you to be honest with me. I thought we’d agreed there’d be no more secrets between us.”

Lou sighed. “Why do you have to have such an adorable face that’s impossible to resist, especially when you’re brooding like that?”

Reid made no reply. Instead, he waited for her to answer him.

She sighed again. “I was...dreaming of the moment you found out I was a witch and you said, ‘You are not my wife.’”

Reid let out a slow breath. “Why would such a moment be appearing in your dreams right now? Is it still bothering you?��

“Well, the weeks we were apart, those words haunted and gutted me,” she answered truthfully. “I guess it still haunts me.”

Her words were like a pierce in his hide. But surely, she knew just how much she meant to him? A week ago, he had murdered his father-figure for her. And yet...the slightest of doubts of how he felt about her remained in her mind.

He placed one of his hands upon her cheek, while the other grabbed hold of her hand.

“Lou, I am so sorry that I -“

“I know,” she cut him off. “I know. I forgive you. You don’t need to apologize anymore for it.”

“But you’re still having nightmares about it. It must still be bothering you in some way,” he remarked. “I want you to be free of such nightmares.”

Lou sat up with a mischievous glint in her eyes and started tracing his jawline with her finger. “Well, one way to avoid such nightmares is to not sleep at all. And I can think of some pretty exciting activities we can do instead of sleeping…”

“Lou…” he breathed. They needed to figure this out. Not distract themselves with other...things.

Not yet at least.

She pouted for a moment, but her grin quickly returned. “I just need to hear you call me your wife again. And again. Maybe several times per day. For forever.”

He placed his hand against her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “My wonderful, wild, beautiful wife,” he began quietly.

Lou took a deep breath as she beamed at him.

“I only speak profanities if it’s concerning something I truly feel strongly about,” he continued. “I hope you’ve realized that I’ve only started swearing when it comes to situations regarding your welfare, your protection, and anything about you.”

Lou nodded along in understanding.

“So, please believe me when I say that you are the fucking love of my life and I can’t imagine a day without you as my wife,” he finished.

Her smile brightened as she let out a soft chuckle. “Hearing you cuss is so...sexy,” she murmured.

Reid bent down to peck her on the lips.

“Call me your wife again. And use another cuss word,” she requested with enthusiastic anticipation when he pulled away.

“My sweet wife,” he said as he pressed his forehead down against hers. “I hope I can make up for being a shitty husband when I first learned you were a witch.”

“I have a few ideas,” she suggested with a playful wiggle of her brow. “One of which is you must always refer to me as ‘my sweet wife’ whenever you are ridiculously happy.”

Well, that wouldn’t be difficult. Whenever he’s with her, he’d always feel that way.

“Any other requests, my sweet wife?”

She tilted her head as if she were deep in thought. “If you’re ever angry with me - even the slightest bit - you should refer to me as ‘the fucking love of my life.’ It’ll likely lessen the desire to strangle you in such moments. If you feel overwhelmed with such passion for me that you just wish you could whisk me away to somewhere private to have your way with me, you should call me ‘Madame Diggory.’”

Reid smiled out of amusement over her babbling. “Am I ever to call you Lou?”

She pursed her lips as she considered his question. “‘My one and only dearest Lou’ should be reserved for love letters only.”

“Are you telling me you want me to write you love letters?”

“What girl doesn’t want to receive a love letter?!” she exclaimed.

Reid laughed, thinking back to the way she made fun of the letters he had written to Celie. “I will remember that.”

Suddenly, Lou’s face became quite serious, causing him to feel concerned. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Tell me something,” she whispered.

“Anything.”

Her breathing stilled out of nervousness. “Do you love me more than Celie?”

Reid took a slow breath. “I’ve known Celie for a long time and loved her for a long while. I’ve spent countless nights dreaming about marrying her and spending the rest of my life with her.”

Lou’s face fell as she looked down, nodding in understanding.

Reid was quick to put his hand beneath her chin to lift her head back up to look at him. “When she told me couldn’t be with me anymore, I was crushed and heartbroken. But I moved on. I let the Archbishop marry us, knowing that meant I would never be with Celie. With you…” he trailed off as he took a moment to stare at her, trying to memorize the features of her face, like the placement of every freckle, the plumpness of her lips…

“When I ordered you to leave me, I felt like a piece of me was gone, while the rest of me was completely shattered,” he went on. “In the weeks we were apart and I traveled to the chateau, I spent every second of everyday thinking about you - how I hurt you, how I failed you, how I couldn’t stand the thought of living without you, how I needed you. It was like my air to breathe was gone. I struck down the Archbishop without a second thought in an attempt to save you. My sweet wife, I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you.”

A few tears streamed down Lou’s beaming face, which Reid was quick to wipe away with his thumbs. She bent forward, resting her head in the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you so much, Reid,” she murmured.

“I love you, my sweet wife,” he reiterated.

Lou let out a soft squeal. “Oh Reid, every time you call me your wife makes me want to rip your clothes off and make sweet love to you,” she blurted out before kissing his throat and tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Not here, not now, Madame Diggory,” he gently reprimanded her as he hugged her with one hand, while the other halted her attempt to yank off his shirt. “We’re not animals. You deserve better than the forest.”

She frowned. He hated disappointing her, but they had to be reasonable and have some sense of propriety.

“But I have you and that’s all that I need,” she said before planting a trail of kisses along his jawline. “You’re all I want.”

“Fucking love of my life,” he moaned, trying to fight off how much he relished in the touch of her lips against his skin. “The others are a short distance away, and I have to keep watch.”

Lou pulled back and sighed. “Fine. Be a killjoy.”

“I’ll make it up to you soon,” he stated before he caught her lips in a firm, passionate kiss.

“You better.”

With a smirk on her face, she laid back against his chest, this time closing her eyes and looking perfectly content as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

Reid held her tightly against his body and rubbed her back. “I promise I will, my sweet wife.”

A/N: Hope you liked this! Fun random fact: Personality-wise, I'm totally more like Reid! (Like I even felt awkward typing out cuss words while writing this because I seldom swear myself lol). So writing for Lou was a bit more challenging for me - I hope she came out alright!

#serpent & dove #serpent and dove #shelby mahurin #lou #reid #louise le blanc #reid diggory #loureed

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