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crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928 forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is.

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg.

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that.

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry.

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair.

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort.

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb.

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt.

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie.

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital.

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father.

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual.

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven.

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.”

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully.

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up.

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home.

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids.

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self.

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!”

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics.

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder.

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup.

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question.

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it.

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation.

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress?

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable.

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could.

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you.

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree.

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process.

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace.

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins.

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.”

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee.

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad.

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share.

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable.

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself.

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated.

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse.

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.”

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change.

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you.

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans.

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him.

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.”

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map.

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.”

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely.

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination.

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition.

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you.

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.”

You frown and look away from him.

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face.

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #seokjin scenario #writing

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zodiyack · 5 years ago

Text

Killed Someone For You

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x kind-of-yandere?!reader

Warnings: Swearing, murder, blood, suggestiveness, slasher fic stuff really

Note: This is not really a song fic, but there are lyrics sooo. As always, lyrics are bold + italic. Crossed out ones mean that they aren’t supposed to be there but they are a lyric. Some lyrics are changed, so they aren’t included.

Taglist:

Masterlist | Slasher Masterlist

Patrick already planned on killing the innocent looking female he was currently seeing. When was he not planning on killing any girls he hooked up with? She wasn’t getting on his nerves, it was just a thing he did! She managed to survive a bit longer than the rest. Not really hooking up at the beginning, but asking to go on dates.

Now it was around the eighth date. Patrick cut it off here. He let the girl wander around his house before, he let her do whatever she wanted, but now it was finally time. He didn’t want it to go farther than eight dates. No. That would just be too much. So tonight he was going to do whatever he wanted to do with her and then kill her.

He unlocked the door to his apartment, stepping inside and walking straight to his room. The date would be at Y/n’s place, so he needed to bring his stuff with him. After a few minutes or so, his bag was filled with his supplies and it was set on his couch. Then, he walked back into his room and changed his clothes into a more date appropriate suit. Some idiot spilled coffee on him today, so he made note to wash the other suit as soon as possible and kill the person that wronged him.

Before anything could happen, Y/n’s best friend busted into the apartment. Y/n already introduced the two. It was safe to say that they both equally hated each other. Hate aside, she was gasping for air and sweating. It both disgusted and confused Patrick.

“What are you doing in my apartment?”

“S-she c-called me today... I- I don’t know what happened but she seemed pretty shaken up, I need your help.” She rummaged around her bag and pulled out her phone.

“You really unplugged your phone and brought it all the way here?” The she nodded and plugged her phone in as fast as she could, pressing the button for her voice mail.

“You need to hear this.”

Both adults sat on the couch, listening to the eerie message from Y/n. She didn’t sound very scared or worried, it mainly felt like she was confused. “I'm sorry that I did this, The blood is on my hands. I stare at my reflection and I don't know who I am. I’m gonna Practice my confession, In case I take the stand. I'll say I learned my lesson, I'll be a better woman.”

The message ended and Y/b/f/n stood up. “There’s more.” She pressed the button again and the next message played.

“I'm packing up my things and, I'm wiping down the walls, I'm rinsing off my clothes and, I'm walking through the halls, I did it all for him, So and I felt nothing at all. I don't know what he'll say, So I'll ask him when he arrives.”

“And that’s it.” She walked back over and put the phone back in her bag. Her eyes glanced over to Patrick with confusion. “I- I don’t know what she meant. I don’t know what she did... do you have any ideas?”

The man inhaled. He thought about it for a minute or two, but nothing came to his mind. “Sadly, no. She did mention doing something for me and how she doesn’t know what I’ll say, so I’ll learn soon enough I suppose. Now if you could please leave my home?”

Y/b/f/n apologized and rushed out of his apartment. He brushed off the strange meeting and continued on his way to Y/n’s apartment. The only things that remained in his mind was 1) how annoying y/b/f/n is, 2) how he still wanted to kill Y/n and thoughts of how he would do so, but also oddly enough, 3) what- just what.did.Y/n.do?

The door swung open and he was greeted with two hands on either side of his face. It was like he didn’t have time to think due to how fast the hands pulled him down. His lips met another pair before he could do anything. Time seemed to catch up to him as he opened his eyes.

“Hi...” A shy voice came from the woman still holding his cheeks. “I’m guessing y/b/f/n showed you my voicemails... I assumed so seeing as it’s something she’d do.”

Patrick nodded and pulled away from Y/n, noticing a wet feeling on his face. “Yes...do you happen to have any towels or washcloths?”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “U-uh- yes, but you have to promise not to look at what comes off of your face until I tell you what I need to tell you. Deal?”

“I guess. Deal.” She handed him a paper towel and sat down. She tucked her hands under her legs, resting them on cloth towel that lied over the section she sat on. After he finished wiping his face, he sat down with her and cleared his throat. “Now what is it that you wish to tell me?”

“I-...” A sigh left her mouth. Y/n inhaled and exhaled, calming herself before she could continue speaking. “Be honest with me, okay?” Patrick gave another nod and waited. “I’ve noticed everything. I’ve seen your drawings. I know you plan on doing all that to me but...what I’m trying to say is that I actually like you... no, love you. And...Would you love me more, If I killed someone for you? Would you hold my hand? They're the same ones that I used, When I killed someone for you. Would you turn me in. When they say I'm on the loose? Would you hide me when, My face is on the news? 'Cause I killed someone for you.”

Patrick, for the first time in a long time, felt...somewhat happy. Why? He didn’t even know the answer to that. How? No answer to that one either. It probably had something to do with Y/n’s confession. It was a lot to take in. The woman he planned on killing already knew everything about him, somehow, and she decided to kill someone if it meant he’d love her back?

“Where’s the body?” He didn’t know why, but that was the first thing he said. No replies having to do with curiosity of how she knew, just asking where the body lied.

“Bodies actually...and in the bathroom... you can look at the towel now.”

Patrick looked down at his crumpled up towel, red stained it and seeped through onto other parts of it. Y/n lifted her hands to show more blood. He walked into the bathroom and spotted two bodies just as she had said. One of them was the person who spilled coffee on him.

“How’d you know about him?”

“Similar to how I did with your other stuff. I observed you and your house, finding bodies and drawings as well as weapons and video tapes. And later today, I accidentally bumped into him and he said it was the second time someone walked into him. I asked him what he meant after muttering that it was he who walked it into me. He said he bumped into his coworker, Patrick Bateman. And I just so happen to be seeing a Patrick Bateman, so I put it all together and figured he’d be the best for a first time...plus I did feel a strong feeling of anger and need for vengeance once he complained about slash mentioned you.”

He felt...flattered? Patrick attempted to brush of the feeling, failing, and asked about the second body. It still nagged at him. Why the female? “What about that second body? I don’t believe I know who she was.”

“Oh her? Some chick I used to be friends with who has- or well had feelings for you. I uh... I heard her talking about how much she admired you and wanted to get into your pants. Wanted to make sure she knew you were taken.”

The words left Patrick brain when he needed them most. Maybe he wouldn’t kill her. She was useful and similar to him. Maybe, just maybe, he’d keep her. Those thoughts formed actions, Patrick grabbing Y/n’s waist and kissing her deeply.

“I killed someone for you.”

“That you did, now, let’s get to your bedroom...unless you want us to stay out here?”

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moskaisley · 5 years ago

Text

migraine pt. 4 | tension

gif cred: @thestarwarsdaily

rating: mature

word count: 5.7k HOO BOY

warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST EVERYONE IS ANGY, cursing, descriptions of vomiting and a panic attack, mentions of death, mentions of trafficking

a/n: I KNO THIS TOOK A LONG TIME .. AND I'VE BEEN STARING AT IT FOR HOURS. THANK U ALL FOR BEING SO SO SO PATIENT AND THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO LEFT LOVELY COMMENTS ON BOTH TUMBLR N AO3 <3

I really really appreciate you guys. As someone who doesn't consider herself a writer by any means, it's nice to know that people enjoy the stories I tell. I had a LOT of trouble with this, but the rest of the story is planned out so I'm hoping there won't be as long a break in between chapters again! we've got about 3 parts left :))

summary:

"Maybe you don’t hate him as much as he thinks.

Maybe you miss him as much as he misses you. Maybe you also long for him in the late hours of the night, replaying moments of your lives together over and over and over in your head. Maybe you didn’t regret taking this job. Maybe, just maybe, you will forgive this broken man and let him in your heart’s home once again."

Wherein wounds are reopened, split, and burned alive.

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Detective Ira Volskaya was a shady guy. Incidentally, he was also your client.

He couldn’t have been much older than you were, but years of police work and crime stopping have weathered him into a brooding, suspicious man with greying hairs and droopy, tired eyes. You and Mando ended up far away from the city center of Coruscant, Volskaya insisting that collection took place in an abandoned warehouse. Judging by how secretive this all was and how strict the detective was on his instructions, you figured that this little exchange wasn’t “in line” with Security Force policy.

As Mando spoke with Volskaya, you helped unload Khan’s slab onto the docking station for his men to take away. Once they had it down the ramp, you walked over to them, catching his attention.

Taking a puff of his cigarra, he narrows his eyes and nods at you, “She wasn’t with you last time.”

“She’s just–”

Mando’s head darted between the two of you, hesitating.

“A coworker,” you cut in sharply.

The detective pursed his lips in suspicion, but left it alone. Instead, he turned to the briefcase at his feet, handing it over to Mando. As he double checked the amount in the case, your eyes caught Ira’s men loading the carbonite slab onto a speeder. Your mind drifts back to something Mando said on the Slipstream.

“he’s wanted for running multiple sex trafficking rings throughout the galaxy…”

You look back at the detective, “What’s going to happen to the rest of Khan’s operation?”

“We’re hoping that his capture will cause a fracture in his little empire. Break up the chain of command and let it die out.”

Volskaya takes another drag and sighs, smoke curling off his lips, “But with the new intel that’s come in, there’s a chance it’ll create a power vacuum. A lot of people wanted him dead. Someone new could easily take his place.”

Your stomach twists as you remember Aayn’vida trembling on the bathroom floor. There are probably still thousands of girls like her, just as scared and helpless. It makes your mouth go sour.

As if sensing your discomfort, Mando shuts the case abruptly.

“It’s all here. Let’s go.”

You kept repeating to yourself that nothing would satisfy you more than to get off this planet and move on from anything that had to do with Khan Horne. But there was a scathing pull at the back of your mind that tugged with each step closer to the Crest. Your gaze darted between the case in Mando’s hand, the slab on the speeder, and Ira Volskaya’s retreating figure. Furrowing your brows, you rub your fingers on your temple; collecting never felt this complicated. What’s gotten into you? You got your money and the job is done, so why was your brain screaming at you to stop Mando from closing the ramp?

Someone new… a power vacuum.

“Wait.”

Mando’s gaze turned to you, fingers hovering over his vambrace.

Fumbling over your words, you say something along the lines of stay put and that you’ll be back in a second. Turning back to the warehouse, you jog away from the ship and call,

“Detective!”

He spins on his heel back to you, face twisting in confusion.

Squaring your shoulders and huffing your breath, you say, “Give me a list of everyone who was involved in Khan’s organization.”

He eyes you quizzically, “I thought bounty hunters didn’t ask questions.”

“I’m not asking as a bounty hunter.”

“Then what are you asking as?”

“Someone who can get to them faster than the Security Force can,” You swallow hard, courage pulsing through you, “Someone who can help.”

The detective raises his eyebrows at you, impressed. And then he smiles, throwing his cigarra to the ground and stomping out the ashes beneath his foot.

Din Djarin was not good enough for you. He didn’t deserve you. This much he knew.

So he let you go.

He really thought he did the right thing. It escalated too quickly after the cockpit and he found himself falling hard. What started as relief for sexual tension turned into softer touches, shining smiles, flirtatious jokes that drove him over the edge.

And then,

“Do you ever think there’s more to this?”

He digs his nose into the crook of your neck, arm slung over your bare waist. Half-asleep, dizzy from your warmth, he relishes in the feeling of your body next to his.

“More to what?”

You let out a gentle sigh, “This life. Hunting. Living out of a tiny, broken ship hopping from planet to planet.”

“Hey, the Crest isn’t that bad.”

You slap him lightly against his chest, “You know what I mean.”

“What did you have in mind?”

A cottage. The ocean. Family.

All in the afterglow of a kiss that tasted like peaches.

Din had a feeling you’ve always wanted more, but this was truly the first time you spoke honestly and truly in length about it. Bounty hunting was rarely ever a sought after profession, and though you were good at your job, he knew it wasn’t something you ever planned on continuing. Twisting a peach pit in your fingers, you admit to him that your life would’ve been completely different without it. You would’ve taken over your father’s orchards and lived in your beautiful family villa, selling fresh fruit to nobles and townspeople alike. Your voice grows wistful as you recount sweet summer days spent chasing your older brother through the fields or weaving baskets with your mother.

“I wore sundresses, Din.”

He smiles against the soft skin of your neck and squeezes your thigh gently, “Sounds pretty. You should wear them again.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Very much so, yes.”

You let out a giggle, shoving him gently. He only held you tighter. A beat of silence passed between you before Din’s hand moved to interlace with yours, face suddenly contorting with unease.

“What happened?”

“What always happens.” Your shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and you grip his fingers tighter. “I was seventeen when Imps occupied our valley. They wanted to clear the farm for military barracks; when my father refused, they burned everything to the ground in the middle of the night. My brother and I escaped with a few other refugees.”

“And your parents?”

“Firing squad.”

“What about our brother?”

He feels your nails dig further into the crevice of his hand.

“He was stupid enough to join the Resistance. I don’t know where he is, but I’ve assumed the worst already.”

His heart twists in remorse at the hurt in your voice. Removing his hands away from yours, he pulls you in closer, stroking your hair with his calloused fingers and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. In all your years of partnership, Din had never known the full extent of your past, only that you started young doing hits for spice cartels and eventually ending up in the Guild. Before, when he tried to ask why you started so early, your answer was always brief and bitter.

“There was only so much a girl could do to make money, Mando.”

The conversation never went further than that. But now, in light of your vulnerability and candor, your questions about the future suddenly made sense. It was never supposed to be this way; your life since adolescence had been solely dictated by fear and the need to survive. When you spoke about it, you sounded exhausted. With the decline of the Empire, how could he blame you for wanting to be more than a war-torn orphan turned ruthless hunter?

The more he thought about it the more it tore him apart.

Because suddenly he was 11 years old again, watching the carnage of his hometown disappear over the shoulder of a Death Watch soldier. Jarring visions of blood and empty eyes melted in between with hazy memories of happy trips to the market and bedtime stories. It felt like whiplash. The echoes of blaster fire and falling debris were loud enough for him to wake up shaking in a cold sweat. The pounding of his heart sounded a lot like cannon fodder and it was loud enough to give him the headaches you suffered from so often. He was ashamed to say that the only time he really remembered his mother’s face was when she was dead on the ground. But to his horror, in his nightmares, he began to see you instead of her, body lifeless and eyes devoid of any life. Everything he’d been ignoring since his youth, crushed and hidden after swearing the Creed and following the Way of the Mandalore, was suddenly washing over him like ocean waves in a storm. Because, unlike you, this life was so devastatingly simple and comfortable for him. It was almost sacred; he was bound by a near holy doctrine and devoid of emotional attachments. That is, until you came and found home under his skin. He was grieving for you before he even lost you. It was unbearable, filling his lungs and suffocating him until he was gasping for air–

“Are you okay?” Your drowsy voice whispered beneath him.

He swallowed hard and pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.”

Any semblance of a normal life was lost on him. Din knew he couldn’t give you peace he didn’t have. He wanted to, though.

He wished he could gift you every star that shone in the sky.

Fuck 80%. He’d give you galaxies.

And yet, he still pulled a blaster on you and left you alone – too caught up in not facing his own demons. Din didn’t realize how much of a mistake it was to let you go until he was half-dead, bleeding all over your old bunk. A job went terribly wrong that day. He was ambushed on some godforsaken jungle planet and running on two hours of sleep, dreams plagued with visions of you crying at the foot of the Slipstream. He was so used to having someone cover his blindspots that he made a colossal mistake that nearly cost him his life. No one had his back that day, and was there no one to stitch him up and call him an idiot.

Existing without you was rougher than he thought it’d be since you’d seeped into every corner of his little life. He couldn’t pass a fruit stand without glancing over for your favorite peaches. When he’d wrangle with tougher bounties, he cursed at how much easier this shit would be if you were there. In the Razor Crest, you’d organized the kitchenette a certain way that Din couldn’t find a pot without tearing it apart, and then he’d wrack his brain to figure out how you organized it so neatly in the first place. He felt a chill when he passed your empty bunk. One day, he found a bottle of your headache medicine in the refresher cabinet. Din kept it. Just in case.

You were everywhere and yet, you weren’t.

You ran together for so long that others noticed your disappearance. Even Xi’an.

“Where’s your little puppy, Mando? She lost?”

He said nothing.

The Twi’lek moved closer, running a hand up his chestplate, “Or did you leave her behind, too?”

“Don’t,” he seethed. The victory in her eyes was disgusting.

Mayfeld’s teasing voice cut in, “Competition, Xi’an?”

“Hardly,” She gave him a vile smirk, “Did she whine like a bitch when it finally happened?” Din was quick to seize her hand away from his body, twisting her forearm near the point of breaking.

“I said. Don’t.”

She only laughed. He wished you were there to wipe that smirk off her face.

It was then that he decided to come and find you. As it turns out, bounty hunters don’t make great parents. The child had just barely survived again, and Din was getting desperate. He’d already lost track of how many times the baby was put in danger, and though he’d been able to keep him alive all these months, Din was definitely not a parent.

After picking up the most lucrative, non-Guild job he could get, he flew straight to the one person he could truly trust in the universe.

When he saw you tensely poised at the cantina, ten paces felt like ten parsecs.

The first thing he noticed were the strands of grey peeking through your hair and the dark circles beneath your eyes. You were by no means an old woman, but you weren’t getting any younger either. In the state that he left you in, three years had aged you and your fiery spirit. Your once lively, spitfire demeanor was now cold and tired.

In the beginning of this little reunion, Din was half convinced that he’d made a terrible mistake trying to make amends. He was desperate to be in your good graces. He needed to apologize. beg you. Grovel at your feet. Atone. Do penance. But you’d seem to shut down every time he tried, denying his pitiful apologies and forgoing any pleasantries. The Mandalorian was lost around you.

And then you got shot.

At that point, Din was positive you were marching straight out of his ship and jetting away in the Slipstream the second this was all over – not before kicking his ass, of course. All the guilt that had consumed him over the years nearly drew him to insanity as he took your limp body from Aayn’vida’s arms, cursing in Mando’a and imploring you to stay awake. Wiping the tears from your eyes and tending to your wound, his thoughts were hysterical. How could he do this to you? Put you through all this trouble only to get shot? And for what? A chance to –

“Din?”

The name fell so softly from your lips.

“Din, my head– it hurts so much.”

His mouth goes dry. He lets out a shaky breath, overwhelmed and eyes bleary.

“Sssh, lay down. You’ll be okay, cyar’ika.”

The Mandalorian only ever dreamed about you saying his name again. Upon your reunion, he noticed immediately how unnatural “Mando” sounded in your mouth, even if he’s heard it thousands of times. It stung when you refused to call him anything else. So hearing it whispered in the walls of the Razor Crest again made his heart beat violently in his chest and gave him the smallest sliver of hope.

Maybe you don’t hate him as much as he thinks.

“I saw Xi’an again.”

Initiating small talk felt physically painful, but he tried anyway. After Jaemai, you seemed to be a little more comfortable speaking freely with him. If you were still angry, you kept it hidden well. Besides, it was hard to be upset with a cute baby on board.

“Really?” You responded with casual interest, attention mostly focused on the child in front of you while Din piloted the ship.

“Yup,” he said, “She… uh...betrayed me and tried to kill the kid.”

“Sounds like her. Where is she now?”

“Prison.”

He doesn’t miss the cheeky grin that spreads across your lips. You softly chuckle and take the baby in your arms, cooing to him, “Good riddance, huh? That scary blue lady is gone for good, yeah?”

The kid gurgles in delight when he’s lifted up. Mando watches you lovingly play with the child, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t remember you being so good with kids, but then again, that was a rare opportunity in itself. The thought of you with kids of your own makes his cheeks flush with warmth.

“Where did you even find him?” You ask, bouncing him up and down in his crib.

“Arvala 7. He was the asset.”

You look at him now, puzzled, “The asset? He’s a child!”

“He’s wanted by Imps.”

“Huh.” You hold the child closer to you now, rocking him in your arms. “And you saved him.”

He hummed in confirmation. A beat of silence passes by.

Mando notes the way the kid stares at you with warm, loving eyes, “He likes you.”

“Yeah?” You look back to the green baby raising him high in the air. His excited laughter is sweet in your ears and you giggle with him.

“Mando’s probably a mess when it comes to you. Probably forgets to feed you, doesn’t he?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s heart flutters all the same.

Lowering the child back into his pod, the child fusses as you try to get him to settle down. You took the silver ball that was laying in his blanket and placed it in his hands to divert his attention. Din faces back towards the console while you sink into the co-pilot’s seat. Your old seat.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you pulling a data pad from your pack on the floor and plugging in a storage drive. You scroll through droves of information silently while Din keeps his gaze trained on the passing lights of hyperspace. But his curiosity only grew, and he was tired of straining his eyes to slyly look at whatever you were reading.

“What are you looking at?”

Your eyes don’t meet his, instead continuing to scan over the information before you. “It’s all the people who kept Khan’s ring running.”

“You got this from the detective?”

You nod.

“Why?”

A long sigh escapes you as you power down the datapad and slip it away.

“I guess you can say I’m retiring.”

Din’s body is quick to turn to you, “What do you mean?”

“You heard Volskaya, someone is just gonna take his place. There are still plenty of people like Aayn’vida. People who need help.”

Beneath his helm, his face twists in reluctance. He asks, “And you’re gonna do it alone?”

You furrow your brows at him, as if the answer was obvious. “Looks like it.”

Din straightens up in his seat, stomach turning uneasily. The air in the cockpit was suddenly suffocating, and he sensed your growing ire as you pressed your lips together.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

You roll your eyes.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Your judgy thing!”

You point an accusing finger at his form, “The one you do with your face and your shoulders.”

“You can’t even see my face.”

“Mando.”

“Alright! It’s just–” he grits, struggling to find the words, “It seems...dangerous.”

“You say that like it makes a difference,” your voice cuts in, sharp like a blade, “do you not think I’m capable on my own?”

“What? No, I–”

Kriff, why is it so hard to talk to you? Din lets out a huff, scolding himself to get it together.

“Listen, we both know you’re more than capable of handling yourself. But this? This is big shit. Not some bail-skipper or petty thief. You go after them and they’ll be on you for the rest of your life.”

“What life, Mando?” you snapped, “When I was her age, I could’ve easily been one of those girls. Bounty hunting wasn’t a life, it was survival. This is something that’s important.”

“Y/N, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Why does that suddenly matter to you?”

You both wince at the sharpness of your words and you turn away from him, suddenly embarrassed of your own outburst. Harsh silence blankets you both as you keep your gazes trained forward. The tension in the air is heavy and thick.

Your tight voice cuts through the quiet with a single question.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He feels like he’s gonna be sick.

“I–”

A giant crash abruptly resounds through the cockpit, causing the three of you to jerk forward. Alarms uproar through the ship as the two of you scramble into position at the console. Your fingers find the buttons easily, pulling up the radar and scanning the area for the threat.

A comm chimes in, “Give us the child, Mandalorian! It’s no use trying to run.”

“It’s a gunship, coming in from behind us,” you quickly inform, “Shit! The shields are weak, we need to get out of here now.”

He nods in agreement, gripping the controls again and lurching the ship forward and speeding off. Your attackers follow in hot pursuit, blasting your ship again. A hit lands, shaking the Crest violently again, earning a strangled cry from behind you.

“Y/N! The baby!” Din grunts, veering the ship back on course.

“Right!”

You nearly leap from your seat, securing and shushing the panicked child as you close his pram to keep him from falling amidst the chaos. Coming back to the co-pilot’s seat, you curse as you read through the multiple alarms flashing across the ship’s interface.

“Our shields are down, Mando. We need to end this.”

He curses under his breath, weighing their options. They didn’t have enough fuel for a hyperspace jump, nor the time to make any proper calculations. His gaze darts to the green planet approaching up ahead and bites the inside of his cheek. A crash isn’t ideal, but it solves the issue of being stranded in dead space. Another jolt and crash rock the ship forward.

“Strap in,” He barks at you, “We’re shooting our way out and going for an emergency landing.” You nod, securing yourself in your seat and preparing yourself for battle.

“It isn’t the worst planet to get stuck on.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re stuck.”

The two of you stood at the foot of the Razor Crest which was currently smoking and leaking fuel into the forest floor. Though you’d survived the gunfight above, the ship had taken serious damage. The shield generators were nearly destroyed and the repulsor grilles were shot, making it impossible to fly the Crest without spinning off course. Normally, with the help of a mechanic, the job could be done within a matter of days, but you were both stuck in a thick forest with the next town over being at least a day’s walk. Repairs could take at least a week with the spare parts that were already kept in the ship, and travelling into town could easily make it two, assuming they’d even have what you need. This posed 2 issues:

Every day you stayed idle, the higher the risk of another hunter (or worse, an Imperial) turning up and kidnapping the child.

Din had yet to feel the wrath that had been building up inside you for the past three years. If the hunters didn’t shoot him, you definitely would, and you wouldn’t miss.

He takes his gaze off the ship and observes your surroundings. All things considered, it was a pretty nice place. The forest was lush, rife with tall trees and bright flora. The air was fresh and cool, and the whistles of birds carried through the treetops. He was somewhat grateful; you could have easily been stuck in a scorching desert or some awful jungle. Past the clearing–which had inadvertently been made by the ship crash– there was a lake, crystal clear and stretching for miles. If the circumstances were any different, maybe you would have enjoyed yourselves, stopped and admired the scenery together.

But they weren’t.

The fact of the matter is that there’s something acrid that permeated the air between you. Sometimes, he could catch it in the way you looked at him, how your eyes flared with sharp, visceral rage and piercing through his beskar like a hot blade. He saw it in the cantina at your reunion, and he felt it twist his heart during your last exchange before you landed.

“Why does it suddenly matter to you?”

Discussing the rift between you wasn’t a conversation he was eager to have. The attack on the Crest only delayed the inevitable, and now, shipwrecked on an unknown planet, he waited anxiously for the years to catch up on him. Your irritation with him didn’t die when you’d landed; it might’ve actually gotten worse. Every furrow of your brows, every curse under your breath only reminded Din of how much you were dying to say, and it only amplified his dread. But being the practical person you were, you remained focused on survival first, setting up camp and laying out a plan for repairs in the morning. Going into town would have to wait, as you weren’t sure what state the ship would be in after its initial mending. You stayed silent in the hours you both tended to your respective duties and it wasn’t until the late afternoon that he felt your presence once again.

He was in the middle of counting ration packs when you said, “We need firewood. It might be cold tonight.”

Din nodded, but as he watched you begin to walk away into the woods, he couldn’t help but spill the words bubbling in his throat.

“About what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he stood to his full height, “You’re–you’re right. It’s not my business anymore.”

You didn’t respond to him for a moment; your expression, frozen and unreadable. Your gaze tears away from him to look down at the toes of your shoes, and he hears you let out a dejected, breathy laugh as you shook your head.

“You know what I don’t get?” You ask, cynicism dripping from your lips, “You never answered my question on the ship.”

Din clenches his fists, nausea suddenly returning to him.

“Khan wasn’t a hard job. You could’ve easily caught him without me, so why? Why did you bring me? Why did you find me?”

“I couldn’t go into the terminal without attracting attention.”

“No, but you could’ve waited for him to move. Tracked him somewhere else,” your tone grows more clipped by the second, “I know you. You’re the best in the parsec and you would’ve found him. I might’ve gotten shot, but there were way harder quarries than him.”

When he still doesn’t answer, you march forward, fuming with indignation.

“For once, can you just tell me the truth?”

Din’s heart was nearly bursting out of his chest, anxiety rippling through him as he confessed.

“I need help,” he croaks, nearly cringing at the weakness and desperation in his tone, “with him.”

He beckons over to the child, carelessly toddling along the floor. Din watches your expression soften with pity as you watch him play.

“I don’t...I don’t know what I’m doing,” He continues, “I’m so confused and–and lost. I worry about him all the time. He’s always in danger. I’ve tried to give him a home, somewhere safe. But the Empire won’t stop until they find him.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one I trust in this universe.”

Din waits for your answer with bated breath, drinking in every reaction. You looked pained, fingers finding their way to the bridge of your nose, pressing hard and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“And I’m supposed to trust you in return?”

Once again, he doesn’t respond, fearing that he’d only make the situation worse.

“You know I can’t do this.”

You cross your arms, hugging your body as you turn away from the kid to face him. He feels his heart sink, distress clawing away at him. I need you; I can’t lose you again. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

“Could you at least think about it?”

“I can’t,” you say sternly, “I’m sorry about the kid, but I know you can figure something out. I’m not the right person, and you need to find someone else.”

You are. More than right. More than I deserve.

“I don’t know who else I can turn to.”

“Mando, you don’t understand,” your voice turns angry once again, “I can’t live everyday not knowing if you’re gonna stick around or not.”

“Things are different, Y/N. I’m not going to leave.”

“Why? Because you have a baby to take care of, you’re suddenly willing to stick around? What happens if things get serious? What is keeping you from walking out tomorrow? A few weeks from now? Are you gonna leave me without a ship this time? Shoot me if I don’t cooperate?”

Stop stop stop stop. He raises his voice, not in ire but in desperation, “This isn’t about us, this is about him!”

“It’s always going to be about us!” Din is stunned to silence as your eyes turn glossy and red with tears, “And after everything, I–I can’t trust you. I mean–kriff– you left me in the worst way possible. You only offered me a job because you knew I wouldn’t have listened to you in the first place, didn’t you?”

His shoulders go rigid, head dipping in shame.

You scoff, sucking in a deep, shaky breath before you go on, “We can’t act like nothing ever happened and just push it aside for the kid; it’s always going to be there. Every time we speak, every time I look at you I–”

You cut yourself off, hesitating to finish your thought. Running your fingers through your hair, you tug at it at it as you let out yet another frustrated huff, “I spent three years of my miserable life trying to figure out what I did wrong. If you can tell me right now what was going through your head that day, then maybe I’ll consider staying. But if you can’t, you need to find someone else.”

The words are there, but get caught in his throat. He’s terrified; speaking them aloud might just rip him in half, but if he doesn’t, he loses you a second time. But they don’t come; they linger and fester and rot on his tongue, and he can only clench his fists harder at his own cowardice.

The way you look at him is soul crushing.

“I thought so.”

You pick up your pack and sling it over your shoulders, skulking into the woods without another word.

You didn’t come back for hours. Night fell across the forest as Din paced outside the Razor Crest, playing out your conversation in his head over and over again until it made him dizzy. His gut was filled with dread as each minute passed by, and he couldn’t figure out if he wanted you to come back at all. It wasn’t until he heard a soft whine from the floating pram that he realized that so much time had passed. Din nearly forgot to feed the child his own hysteria.

“Hey, little womp rat,” he sighed, gently picking him up, “She’s right, huh? I really am a mess.”

The baby’s big glossy eyes stare up at him as if sensing Din’s unease. His tiny hands grab at the thick cloak around his neck, pulling himself upwards and nuzzling his face in between his neck and his pauldron. Is he… comforting me?

Something forms at the base of his throat as he croaks a gentle, “Thanks, kid.”

But this quiet moment of peace is interrupted at the cracking sound of a stick. He stills, listening further as footsteps grow louder and louder. His blaster is out and aimed behind him before he can even think to look. He whips around, clutching the baby closer to him only to see you abruptly dropping the chopped wood in your hands to the floor. The baby begins to cry at the sudden shift in movement.

He relaxes, letting his arm fall to his side but not holstering his blaster. Instead, he gently bounces the child in his other arm in an attempt to soothe him.

“It’s okay. It’s just Y/N,” he says softly. When Din looks back to you, you’re still frozen on the spot. His brows furrow beneath his helmet.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You stutter, “Can you put that fucking thing away, please?”

He looks at the child, and back to you. A flare of irritation ignites in his chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Every time you point you point it at me, I expect you to pull the trigger.”

Oh. Shit.

Guilt pierces through his chest. He quickly slips it back into his holster

“I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you,” he apologizes. You’re still unmoving, looking at him as if he’d just burned you.

“Y/N, you know I would never–“

“But you were going to.”

“Not even then.”

As Din begins to walk forward, he notices the way your body shakes violently. His hand gingerly goes to rest against your arm to comfort you, but you tear yourself away from him, wrapping inward as you seethe.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

The look in your eyes makes Din’s blood run cold. Your pointed stare was piercing and hot and raw. It seared and flared with white hot wrath. Your breathing was ragged, chest heaving up and gasping for air. There it is.

The visceral rage and contempt you held for him had finally surfaced. It festered and boiled over, consuming you to the point where Din thought you would’ve killed him on the spot. But then, revulsion contorts your face, and you quickly shove past him, leaving him paralyzed in your wake. You disappear behind the Crest, and he hears you dropping to the ground.

He winces at the sound of you heaving the contents of your stomach into the lake.

Din sets the baby down into his carrier, and quickly rounds the corner of the ship to see you on your hands and knees at the edge of the water.

He’s speechless. The only words he could manage sounded disgustingly miserable from his vocoder.

“I’m so sorry.”

You sniffle as you drag yourself up from the ground. You don’t turn around to face him.

“You don’t have to tell me why you left. Even if I deserve an explanation,” you say, voice strained and pathetic.

“Because when this is all over, I don’t ever want to see you again. Keep your money and your jobs. I don’t care if it pays enough for ten lifetimes. If you ever try to find me, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

taglist:

@bella-ciaao , @tiffdawg thanx loves <3

#IM NERVOUSUSOSUSUOS #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #baby yoda #pedro pascal #am i too dramatic #can u tell the leo jumped out #i will say #it gets worse before it gets better #migraine #my palms r sweaty #srry im 36 minutes late

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fandom-imagines-stories · 5 years ago

Text

Guiding Stars

Ezra x Reader

Words: 3653

Summary: After nearly three years of surviving on that shithole planet, Ezra escapes with Cee and the two journey to the planet he once called home in hopes of starting a new life. You have been living in hope that one day, the man you love will come home despite everyone telling you to move on. When Ezra shows up at your door with a teenage girl and one arm, both of you wonder just how much has changed.

Notes: Again, I’m writing for a bunch of Pedro characters, so please please please leave a review or send in a message to let me know what you all think of them! Also, I just really love the idea of mixing Ezra with Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, so there’s one in here.

“Do you want to lock up, or should I?” Your coworker, Ella, drew you out of your thoughts. Your eyes were trained up at the sky, studying the glittering stars above. It was a critical part of your nightly routine. Every night, before you closed down the shop, you looked up at the sky. Your apartment didn’t have any windows, so it was your only chance to just take in the vastness of space above you.

“I’ll get it, thanks El.” You came away from the window just as a ship passed overhead. The robotic repair store that you worked at had had a busy day and you were relieved to be heading home. You punched in the lock code and waited for that familiar click before you hoped on your ratty old hover-bike and rode home.

The city was dirty and the air was filled with smog, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, even now that you had made a little more money. You had every opportunity to get on a shuttle and fly off to some new and exciting planet, but you remained in your tiny apartment on that sad little lump of rock just as you had for nearly a decade. Many of your friends had moved off, started families, continued their lives. They all asked you the same question whenever they visited.

“Why don’t you get out of that place? You have so much potential.”

You gave them all the same answer. If you left, he wouldn’t be able to find you.

You slid your key-card through the slot and your apartment door squeaked open. It was dark and barely big enough for one person even though it once housed two. You cleaned off the grease from your hands and arms and broke off a piece of stale bread for dinner. It didn’t matter whether or not the shop was bringing in more money; real food was a luxury anywhere on the planet.

You sat in the dark, the obnoxious glow of artificial lighting giving you a headache.You said your prayers, though you could hardly remember who or what you prayed to anymore. Whoever could bring him home.

You would hold out for one more day, you told yourself. Tomorrow, you would pack up and get off this shitty excuse of a planet and make a name for yourself. Somewhere sunny. Somewhere with real, living trees, not the plastic imposters that lined the city streets. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d promised yourself that. Every night, probably. You knew you would never leave. You couldn’t.

They had told you he was dead. That he got sick on that godforsaken green planet and that they had to leave his body behind because it was ‘contaminated’. They told you to move on. Everyone else that had known him did. All of his friends mourned him for a few weeks and then went on with their lives, most of them moving away. But his crew all had a look of guilt. Even without their lying eyes, you felt in your soul that he was out there, somewhere, trying to get back to you by the hands of the guiding stars.

You hadn’t seen him in four years, but sometimes, when you were stuck in that place between awake and dreaming, you could feel his arms slip around you. You could feel the bed shift with his weight. And you could feel his lips graze yours just before you finally fell asleep.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Cee huffed, looking up at the shabby sign. Ezra blew out a breath.

“This is the one.” He recognized the chipped paint and the smell of burning metal from the smelting works down the street. Mel’s Robotics. He’d been back here many times in his dreams while he was stuck on that planet. Cee wrinkled her nose and he chuckled. “If you wish for better accommodations, Little Bird, you are free to search for it yourself.” His sweet drawl in his voice had annoyed her when they first met, but she had grown used to it, finding it almost comforting. “That apartment building should be just around the corner.”

While the air was polluted and smelled of smoke, he couldn’t help but revel in the sensation of walking outside without a cumbersome suit inhibiting his every move. He felt free for the first time in three years.

“You seem cheery.” Cee noted with feigned annoyance. She was just as happy to be off that planet as he was. “Who is this woman anyway? How do you know she’s even still here?” Ezra sighed.

“I don’t.”

The two entered the apartment complex wearily, Cee checking around every corner they turned. She shook her head at her own paranoia. This was a residential planet. Disgusting and over populated, but residential. There were no monsters or toxic particles in the air here, unless you counted the smog. But hey, at least she wouldn’t have to cut off any more arms.

He led her up a flight of stairs, searching for door number 416. As soon as he found it, he pulled on the chain around his neck, revealing a small metal key. Cee pointed at the card reader next to the door.

“I think you’ve got the wrong kind of key.” Ezra chuckled.

“It would appear so, little bird, but you see, when I lived here, I used this,” He held up the old-fashioned key, it’s teeth glistening in the light. He’d kept it in pristine conditioning, hoping that he would have a home to return to one day. “I never was very skilled with technology, so my lovely partner had this put in for me.” He pressed a notch on the knob of the door and a piece of metal slid away, revealing a lock.

Ezra put the key in, but stopped before he turned it, the impact of the situation suddenly hitting him. What if you weren’t here? What if you were here and you didn’t want to see him? What if you had forgotten about him?

“What are you waiting for?” Cee asked, a slight trace of fear in her voice. Was something wrong? Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath and turned the key.

It was as if he was stepping into one of his dreams. Everything looked the same. The same beat-up leather sofa. The same smell of ink from your blueprints and the earthy aroma of your favorite tea. For a moment, he thought he would cry, falling to the floor of the home he’d been desperately trying to get back to for four years. Cee could see his emotional state and didn’t say anything for a while, letting him drink in the memory. She was almost jealous. She never really had a home to miss.

“It doesn’t look like she’s here.” Cee noted after he started to roam around. He stopped in front of a shelf, picking up an old photo. It was taken the night that they had moved in together. A group of friends had surprised the two of you with a party and snapped the photo as he carried you in, bridal style.

“She stayed.” He whispered to himself almost in disbelief. He didn’t notice that Cee was next to him.

“You look happy.” Cee gave him a half smile, examining the photo over his shoulder. He quickly put the frame back on the shelf.

“She should be back soon. If I remember correctly, and I believe I do, the shop isn’t open on weekends.” He motioned for her to sit on the worn-out sofa. He should have felt awkward, waiting around on the couch for her to come home. But it was his home too. Besides, he’s the one that bought the damn thing. He didn’t think his heart would ever stop beating so fast until he heard the door open and it stopped all together.

You had seen him so many times in your dreams that you didn’t even stop when you saw him out of the corner of your eye. You went straight to the small kitchen to put away a few groceries. It wasn’t until you turned around, seeing him standing there looking at you with those big brown eyes that you could have sworn were filled with tears.

“Hello my Dove,” He greeted, his voice catching in his throat. He never thought he would get to call you that again. You never thought you’d hear it. You slowly stepped towards him, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish.

“E-Ezra?” You felt like all of the air had left your body and only he could give it back. “T-this is…. Am I dreaming?” You weren’t sure if you could handle waking up to an empty room again. Ezra chuckled, a single tear spilling over as he shook his head.

“No, sweetheart,” He stepped towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. Just feeling his rough, warm skin made your heart leap. “I’m here.”

You weren’t sure which happened first; throwing your arms around his neck and nearly tackling him in a hug or the endless amount of tears that poured down your face as you cried into his chest. His hand cradled the back of your head and he wished that he could hold you properly. But you didn't even notice.

“I knew it.” You sobbed. “I knew you weren’t dead. They all told me to leave, but I knew that you would come back to me.” When you pulled away so you could look at that face you’d longed to see for four years, you noticed his injury. His right arm was gone, the empty sleeve of his shirt hanging loosely by his side. Ezra knew what you were looking at and was suddenly uncomfortable.

“It’s a long story.” He muttered. You collected your thoughts, thousands of questions swimming around in your head, and you took his face in your hands.

“It doesn’t matter.” You beamed. “The only thing that matters is that you're here.” You pulled his face down to yours, colliding your lips together. Your body ignited. It felt like this was the first breath you’d taken in the last four years. Ezra was sure that he had been dead up until this moment and you brought him back to life with the soft touch of your lips. It wasn’t until he felt the annoyed tap on his shoulder that he pulled away.

“Oh, one more thing.” He stepped aside to reveal a young girl standing behind him. “This is Cee.”

“Hi.” She greeted awkwardly, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to read your expression. “I guess I’m part of the long story.”

“Don’t be modest now.” He smirked. “I wouldn’t have made it off of the Green without her.” If it wasn’t for her, he would still have an arm, Cee thought. You smiled at her brighter than anyone had ever smiled at her before.

“Thank you.”

Cee felt an odd, warm feeling in her chest and Ezra could have sworn he saw a small smile grace her lips. He cleared his throat and turned back to you.

“Now, I know it’s quite a lot to ask, but I was hoping that I may take residence here again. And Cee would be with us too, if that’s alright.” They had talked about her staying with him on the journey here. Seeing as she didn’t really have many options, she said if they could make it without killing each other that she would give it a chance. You shook your head with a laugh, running your hands through his hair, curling that blonde streak around your finger.

“This is your home, Ezra. Always and forever.” You pressed a gentler kiss to his lips before looking at Cee. “And please stay. This apartment is small, but I’d be more than willing to make room for you.”

“That would be very nice.” Cee said as politely as she knew how. She wasn’t used to people being so kind to her. Hell, she wasn’t sure how someone like you could put up with Ezra, but she was glad that you did. You put a hand on her shoulder and ushered them both into the kitchen.

“Come on, I’ll fix us some dinner.”

For the next few days, the sun shined a little brighter every morning and the stars glittered more each night. It was as if Ezra was all the light you ever needed. And Cee was wonderful. She became interested in the shop after a few visits and asked if she could help out. You were more than happy to have her join you and Ella loved her too. You started a special project while Ella showed her the ropes of the robotics business. Everything was perfect… until it wasn’t.

It wasn’t until you came home late with Cee from the shop that you realized that Ezra wasn’t the same. Sure, he was your sweet and loving Ezra with that sexy southern drawl. But he was also the Ezra that was stuck in the Green for four years, alone except for the mute creature he kept for company.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be late.” He whispered, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall.

“Yeah, sorry, we just got caught up in some work.” You laughed, draping an arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. You put down the large case containing your work. “Cee’s got real talent.”

“I don’t like not being informed of your extended absence.” Usually his well-though wording turned you on, but when he finally turned his head to look at you, his eyes were dark. “I’ve been sitting here, worrying about you for a long while now.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” You walked towards him, a confused and nervous smile tugging at your lips, hoping to calm him down. His whole body was tense, like stuck gears about to break. “Ezra, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He scoffed. “I have been pacing here for hours not knowing when the two of you would be coming back.” He stood up and loomed over you, his eyes glaring and his mouth in a snarl. “I’m not a patient man, Y/N. You know this. Waitin leads to worryin and you know how I get when I worry!” His voice was a booming growl now and his face was inches from yours.

It only took him a moment to come back. When the green faded in his mind, he saw only the frightened look in your eyes. He hadn’t realized that his hand was gripping your arm. You tried not to show how much his tight hold hurt. Ezra’s face immediately softened and he dropped his hand to his side.

“You can put that down little bird.” He sighed, not taking his eyes off of you. Cee put down the screwdriver she had been holding, ready to attack if he did something to you.

“Ezra…” You stepped away from him, backing towards your room.

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Maybe you should sleep out here tonight.” You said, more of a demand than a suggestion. You knew that he would never hurt you. Of course he would never hurt you. But Ezra was different.

His shoulders slumped a little and he looked at the floor.

“No, of course.” His defeated expression nearly broke your heart. He mustered a small smile. “My apologies, ladies. I hope you both sleep well.” As calm as he tried to appear, his heart was pounding in his ears.

Cee went into her room while you lingered in the doorway of your own, watching Ezra grab an old quilt and lie down on the couch. You just needed some time to think. You could feel his sad gaze upon you as you closed the door.

You had grown so used to the silence of an empty home that almost any noise in the night woke you up. The sound of quiet, painful groans and mutterings stirred you from your sleep. You opened your door as silently as possible, peaking out into the living room. Ezra was still asleep, but he was thrashing back and forth, his face contorted with fear.

“I have to get back…” He whispered, his voice filled with suffering. “I have to get back to her…”

“Ezra?” You said softly, walking towards him.

“No.” He winced. Whatever was haunting him was getting worse. “I have to get out. I have to get out!” His whispers had turned to terrified screams and you couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Ezra, baby, wake up.” You put a hand on his cheek, hoping that your gentle touch could soothe him, but he kept fighting. His hand clutched his chest and you saw the angry red scar.

“I’m going to die here.” He cried, his voice cracking. “I’m going to die.”

“Ezra, you aren’t there anymore. You’re safe. You’re with me.” You shook him and he shot up, breathing heavily as his eyes adjusted to the dark living room. You ran your hand up and down his back.

“I’m not there.” He said in between pants, his eyes frantically scanning the room for whatever villain plagued his dream. “I’m not there.”

“You’re home, Ezra.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell. Seeing him so afraid tore at your heart.

“Home,” He slowly turned his body around so that he was facing you. A small, crooked smile formed on his lips. “That’s right. Home.” You pulled him to you, resting his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What happened to you out there?” You whispered, more of a sad statement than a question. You wished that you could soothe every bad memory from his mind, but you knew that you couldn’t erase the past four years. He held onto you as tightly as he could and you were reminded of what you and Cee had been working on for the past few days.

You stood up slowly, grabbing his hand.

“I have something for you.” You guided him to the case that you had set on the kitchen counter and you unlocked the mechanisms. Inside, was a long, robotic arm. “I don’t know if it’s something that you want. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, I just thought it would be nice to give you something. It was actually Cee’s idea.”

Ezra examined the device with a look of awe. You lifted it out of the case and showed him how it worked.

“You wouldn’t even need an operation. You just strap it on and this,” You held up a small neurotransmitter that would adhere to the back of his neck, “Would be able to transmit your brainwaves to the device, making it function like a regular limb.”

He didn’t know what to say. He knew that you were brilliant at what you did, but this was beyond what he could have imagined. All he could do was smile and you bit your lip nervously.

“Do you want to try it?”

He nodded and sat down, allowing you to work. You fastened the straps so that it rested comfortably against his side. Then you put on the transmitter. Looking to him for permission and receiving it, you finished prepping the device.

“Is it… working?” He asked, raising a brow. You sucked in a breath.

“You tell me.” You started to walk, but your foot caught on the leg of the chair. Before you could fall, you felt his hand grab your arm. His right hand.

“Incredible.” He gasped, tears springing to his eyes. He didn’t fight them. Instead, he let you kiss them off of his cheeks, leading him back into the living room.

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” He lifted you up into the air, twirling you around and looking at you like you were the sun. He set you down again and crossed the room to the small music-device in the corner. “Well, my dove, it’ll make it a whole lot easier to do this.” He pressed a few buttons and that familiar guitar intro. As the song began to play, he walked back towards you, his movements steady and invited.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

“Our song.” You grinned. It was the song that had played when you met. He had played it when you moved in together. And now it played when you found each other again. He took you into his arms, the cool metal of the robotic arm pressing against your skin. You didn’t mind. It felt nice in contrast to the hot air around you.

The two of you began to sway, dancing slowly in the warmth of each other’s embrace. You were sure that you had died and this is what your heaven was. Ezra forever, his lips never leaving your own.

“What a wicked thing to do.” He whispered in your ear along with the lyrics. His lips grazed your ear. “To make me dream of you.” You brought his face to yours for a deep and passionate kiss, stilling dancing in the middle of the living room.

Cee smiled slightly as she peaked from her room. She had forgotten what it was like to see two people love each other, if she even knew to begin with. She quietly closed her door again and went back to bed, leaving the two of you to enjoy your moment.

In the following weeks, the three of you decided to move off of that lump of rock and search for a better place. But you knew that it didn’t really matter. Wherever you ended up, as long as you were with Ezra, and now Cee, you knew that you would be home.

@rae-gar-targaryen; @jnniferjreau; @ladamari68; @libellule2001; @c-ly-g; @themandjalorian; @pascalisthepunkest

#ezra is my love #ezra #prospect #ezra x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #i love his man so much guys

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years ago

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Paige/Leo AU (maybe Mark survived and he and Piper are together, or Piper chose Dan, instead):

Leo comes out of the sixties angry and grieving because he let his guard down and a warlock killed Penny's husband and he blames himself. He swears that he'll never let anything like that happen to any of his charges ever again. He'll never let his feelings get in the way of the job ever again.

Fast forward thirty years, and he's the Charmed Ones whitelighter and determined to do better for them than he did their grandparents. So when he sees a woman he vaguely recognizes from the magical be-in, he follows her. He remembers the woman telling him that she was half-Whitelighter (which is impossible, of course, there are rules for a reason), but she looks even younger than she did the first time he saw her, and all he can think is that she's a warlock. One of the warlocks who killed Allen, and he's not about to let her do it to his charges.

For Paige's part, she'd be really happy if she could figure out why this crazy guy seems to be stalking her and why he just stabbed her with a thumbtack and insisted on seeing her bleeding thumb.

ooh okay for starters i really love a piper/mark endgame in a paige/leo au bc it removes like the blatant weirdness of i dated ur half sister for a while but then she chose that guy over me but i still hang out around her house a lot which is how i met u bc like. That’s Weird! but like. okay so let’s talk leo has other charges we’ll say one of them is a future charge who’s at a crossroads and he really needs to make sure they go down the right path but um the charmed ones keep almost dying so he can’t divert the attention he needs to this charge so like he’s making sure prue piper phoebe don’t die but where’s his charge oh no has something horrible happened where is his charge and he finds them at social services and paige is there getting everything sorted making sure they’re okay blah blah blah and she looks really familiar but leo can’t but his finger on it so he goes up and talks to his charge and introduces himself to paige paige who is known amongst her coworkers as the witchy spiritual one in canon goes oh leo? that’s my zodiac sign. ruled by the sun and leo Flashes Back to 1967 using the most cringey pickup line And As Time Is Like Circular in charmed when paige went to the past piper and leo are not married in that au in fact by s6 paige and leo r probably in a committed relationship so when he used that line she either roasted the shit out of him or flirted back (probably both simultaneously) and leo’s like have you ever had strawberry blonde hair? and paige is like pardon? and leo’s like have we met before? and paige is like no i don’t think so but leo’s like no no that’s definitely her but like. if she were a fellow whitelighter why would she be lying and we’ll say in this au he thinks she’s a darklighter bc a) she said she could orb and b) she’s getting real involved with his charge but we’ll say same bleeding rules apply and leo’s like hmm. bc like. if it was anyone else and he thought they were a darklighter he would drag he charge out of there and put the charmed ones on their ass but this girl like. like i mean it’s been like 35 years and they only spoke for like ten minutes but she left a lasting impression like i mean he hasn’t thought about her A Lot A Lot but like. where was that witch who could orb who he met for ten minutes at a party. i hope she’s doing okay. like leo can’t believe she’s evil. like that can’t be. that can’t be right. so he’s like uhh do u donate blood a lot? and paige is like okay so this guy has introduced himself to me asked if i’ve ever had strawberry blonde hair and then asked me if i donate blood a lot. what. and leo’s charge is looking at him like king what and leo’s looking around like what’s the most friendly way to stab a person.

#listen paige x leo is like #thee crack/au ship #like not to take away from pleo but literally paige x leo like think about it lads like Think About It Lads #charmed #paige x leo #au #💌

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nat-20s · 4 years ago

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PROMPT! the first time the s1 archive gang hangs out outside of work (any variation of the group, doesn’t have to be All of them)

This is only the Archive Assistant sqaud, bc I’m sorry Jon, but no bosses allowed. Also it’s VERY silly and soft bc sometimes u just wanna write nice things u know

(also also fuck I lovecompletely missed that this said “first time” they hang out but uhh. I hope u like it anyway.)

Tim Stoker like to think that, sometimes, not to toot his own horn, but he can be something of a genius. When a cousin’s cousin had offered to let him use their cozy little cabin for a night or two in exchange for help with moving, he had been struck with what could only be humbly described as “inspiration of the most divine nature”. For, as nice as a Friday evening away from it all by himself sounds, it’s so much nicer for a Friday evening away from it all to serve as Archival Assistants Bonding Time™. Or well, more like Tim and Sasha, Who Are Already Best Friends Forever, Figure Out What Martin’s Deal Is, Because For A Guy So Chatty, He Sure Is Mysterious Time™, but that’s not nearly as catchy. Truly, his plan was brilliant, bringing two compatriots and an excessive amount of food and drink to a spot away from the prying eyes of the world and bosses, and feast in the openness and silliness that comes from having a great fucking time.

His plan, and his genius, were tragically derailed. While he knew on their drive up that the air was rapidly getting cooler, Tim couldn’t have even pretended to predict that an hour into their stay would bring a freak blizzard that means they’re snowed in for the next three days, which was 3 times longer than he had accounted on spending with his coworkers/friends. There was more than enough food to last them, and almost enough alcohol, but as Sasha so kindly put it:

“First you make us reenact the first scene of every bad teen slasher movie, now there’s a fucking white out. If we lose power, I’m telling you, there is absolutely going to be a murder.”

“Pfft, no way. The guy who owns this place is one of those weird ass prepper types, there’s a back up generator for the back up generator. And even if we did lose power, we’re all much more the “huddle for warmth under a shared blanket in front of the roaring fire” types than the “get panicked and stab someone in darkness” types, right? Back me up here, Marto.”

Martin, who at three shots in is both hilarious and mean, directs his response to Sasha. “in the event of a black-out I vote we kill Tim. I can take him down and you can finish the job.”

Sasha tips her cup at him, saying, “I like the way you think,” at the same time that Tim yells out, “Hey! Why am I the one dying?!”

Sasha tells him, “Duh. This whole thing was your idea, which makes you the Dr. Black* of this situation. Any good mansion murder mystery dictates the the host dies first. Then, in a moment of entirely unplanned synchronization, her and Martin start chanting, “Host dies first! Host dies first!”

“Okay, you know what? Fuck both of y’all, it’s not my fault that you’re both thoroughbred city slickers that can’t handle being in a cabin with plumbing and running water and electricity. Didn’t either of you go camping as kids?”

Sasha replies “No I’m far too pretty for that,” while Martin bursts out laughing. It takes about 20 seconds for him to settle down. Wiping away a tear, he elaborates, “Sorry, sorry, just. Can not imagine my mother on a camping trip. I mean, sure, she probably hoped at one point or another that I’d be lost in the woods as a child, or maybe even now, but I think that’s a bit different.”

Tim leans over the kitchen counter, placing his chin in his hands as he says, “Oh shit, Martin lore. Spill the deets.”

Sasha, who’s loyalties tend to sway towards whatever’s most interesting in the moment, piles on with, “You called her your mother, not your mum. That’s means she’s pretty much a right bastard, or a member of the aristocracy, which is just another term for right bastard but you got to grow up as a rich kid. Am I right?”

It’s clear the the two of them have made a grave mistake. All joviality flees Martin’s expression, and he shrinks down both his physical presence and his voice to something that could easily be overlooked if someone wasn’t paying attention. “Oh, um, well, I definitely didn’t grow up as a rich kid. And, it terms of the ‘right bastard’ thing, she’s not- er. That’s to say, she’s- she’s sick and. She’s doing the best she can, given, given everything.”

Martin pointedly looks at his hands while Tim and Sasha panickedly look at each other. They go to either side of him, and when he doesn’t flinch away, they each place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tim immediately feels the itch to fill the heavy quiet, and he happens to know he has quite the talent for blazing on ahead after these kinds of moments. It’s how he’s survived basically party for the past decade. “Ooookay, I’m gonna go ahead and say that all depressing familial reveals shall be held off until at least the second night of being trapped. While Sasha may have irritatingly few skeletons in her closet in that regard-”

“I have Tory grandparents?”

“We all have Tory grandparents Sash, that’s absolutely nothing. As I was saying, while Sash’s family is boring and semi functional, you and me are gonna do some fuckin’ commiserating on our journey from work friends to friend friends. However, I’m going to have to be 40% drunker, go through a decently strong hangover, and then once again get hair of the dog drunk before I can even start to consider heading down that path. And in that spirit, I think it’s time to start up the drinking games. Truth or dare might end up a bit too heavy for our needs, but Never Have I Ever should suit us just fine. I know I’m gonna regret saying this considering Sasha is 100% going to target my ass, but I think we should establish that whoever puts all ten fingers down first has to chug the rest of the box wine.”

Sasha pipes up with, “Ugh, no, not drinking games, that’s such twenty-something bullshit. I expected better from you.”

“Hey, Martin is a twenty-something, so that still works fine actually-”

“Tim!”

“What?”

Martin’s directing wide, bordering on frantic, eyes at him, and Tim is almost certainly missing something, though he can’t for the life of him figure it out. Sasha’s head is bobbing slightly between the two of them, and shes apparently able to parse what Tim has not. “Oh! Martin, uh, I already know that you’re 2, and it’s cool.”

“Did..did Tim tell you or?”

Tim scoffs out an “I wouldn’t!” even though there’s a distinct possibility that, entirely on accident, he would, and Sasha makes a reassuring coo. “No, no, babe, nothing like that. It’s just that, uh, the Magnus Institute is kind of notorious for not doing any background checks pretty much ever, so when I get a new coworker, I..do it myself.”

Martin’s face blanches, and his eyes somehow get even wider. “Oh god, please don’t tell Jon or Elias, I know I don’t have the credentials, but I really need-”

“Woah, woah, I’m not gonna do that. First of all, archival assistant squad, we ride together we die together in a snowed in god forsaken log cabin, secondly, it’d be hypocritical as fuck if I got up your ass about qualifications. Not a single one of us is qualified for our jobs, not even Jon. Maybe especially not Jon. It’s like, raise your hand if you have a degree in library sciences. No one? Okay, cool, that’s not weird at all for an archive. Actually, maybe bring that up next time he gives you shit. He’ll be all like ‘bluh bluh, you didn’t document this spooky bullshit well enough, it’s not up to the High Standards here at Spooky Bullshit Emporium’ and you can be like ‘whatever buddy, you’re an English major, what do you fuckin’ know?’. It’ll be devastating. He’ll be devastated.”

Martin laughs in the manner of someone who knows that they shouldn’t be, and his shoulders relax into a lower position. “Why would you want me to devastate him? I thought you guys were friends?”

“We are, which is why we all collectively need to get back at Jon for acting like such a prick. He’s always been a bit temperamental, but I honestly don’t get what his deal is, especially with you. I mean, c’mon, you’re great, being mean to you is like kicking a puppy.”

“Thanks? I think?”

Tim pipes up with, “Oooo, since drinking games are apparently too childish for Sasha, what if instead we play ‘What’s Jon’s Deal Anyway, Featuring, Seriously, Why Target Martin, The Baby of The Archives’-”

“-That feels a bit reductive of who I am and I also I think I’m technically older than Jon?-”

“-Whoever comes up with the best explanation, and by best obviously I mean most entertaining, gets an all expense paid trip from the other two to one of the charity shops I know we all frequent.”

Sasha snorts, “Wow, a whole twenty quid, who could resist such temptation. But also, I’m in, I think I have a winner and I have a violent need to out-cardigan Jon.”

Martin’s relaxation is gone again, which Tim thinks need to be fixed through aggressively passing a glass of wine towards him. He takes it without protest, takes a long drink, and says, “This seems more like 3 am conversation than a 9 pm one.”

Sasha gives an encouraging nudge, prompting another drink, and replies, “Yeah, well, I am not gonna make it to 3 am. I’ve got about an hour until the Alcohol Sleepiness sets in, and I know Tim will be right behind me.”

“Sashaaaaaa, you’re ruining my reputation as a young-at-heart, party-all-night kind of guy.”

“Babe, you’ve complained about your bones aching often enough that you’ve never had that reputation.”

“Surrounded by mean drunks, that’s what I am. I should be pitied.”

Martin shoots a glance towards Sasha, then replies, “You’d be more pitiable if this entire thing wasn’t, you know, entirely your own fault.”

Sasha nods sagely, “It’s true. If you were pitiable then maybe you wouldn’t have to die first.”

“You know what? I am uncomfortable with the energy that’s been created in this room, how about we divert some of that towards complaining about our bosses, as coworkers who are hanging out and having a good time and not bullying me are supposed to do.”

Sasha giggles slightly as she leans down and presses a kiss to Tim’s cheek. “Aw, sorry, Tim. I promise to double cross Martin when if becomes killing time.”

Tim melts a little, even as he’s replying, “Wait, when?” Martin takes another sip and says, “Whatever. I could take you both.”

How the hell are you supposed to resist a set up like that? With an over the top wink and cheesy grin, Tim says, “I bet you could, big guy.”

He’s expecting a slightly flustered reaction, maybe a higher pitched voice and a blush, if he’s lucky. He gets all of those things, but it’s Sasha saying, “Oh my god.” Martin only gives him a raised eyebrow and level stare, and Tim makes a mental note to reevaluate his dedication to only considering Martin in a strictly platonic fashion. Sasha continues talking, cutting through the..tension? with, “Okay, now I am uncomfortable with the energy that’s been created in this room. Tim, tell the studio audience what you think is up with Jon.”

Tim blinks, hard, gives a shake of his head, and says, “Oh, obviously the Jon we know is dead. His ‘promotion’ to Head Archivist was actually Elias killing him off and replacing him with a robot that has the command If: see Martin Then: be dick. Don’t worry Marto, now that Sasha is aware of the issue, she’ll surely be able to reprogram him.”

Sasha hums a bit, then says, “I buy it. I think my explanation’s better, but Elias does seem the “kill a dude and replace him” type. Like if I was gonna suspect any particular person of murder he’s in the top five.”

“Seriously? Elias? Somehow has middle manager vibes even though he’s the head honcho Elias? Mr. ‘I probably wore boat shoes and khaki shorts for the entirety of university’ Bouchard? Voted most likely to put a thin layer of mayo in between two pieces of white bread and claim it’s a sandwich Elias? The area man that’s almost certainly gone on record as saying that golf and networking are his favorite hobbies Elias? He’s far too boring to have committed a murder.”

Tim’s looking at Martin with shock and delight, and he knows Sasha is wearing the exact same expression. “More of this. Please describe more of the things that Elias is.”

“I mean, sure? Uhh, guy that would pay $80 for a dime bag because you told him it’s a premium strain. Person that ironically says things like “kids these days” and “the youths” and you know he’s talking about people well into their 30s. Genuinely believes that if you can afford a cell phone then you shouldn’t be complaining about being poor, because apparently a one time purchase of around a hundred bucks is the same as trying to pay monthly rent. Tells people to haul themselves up by their bootstraps. Thinks he got to where he was ‘without anybody’s handouts’ even though he’s had a trust fund since he was 15. Writes weekly editorials to the local newspaper complaining about the liberalization of media, and they’re like ‘sir, please stop submitting to us, we’re just trying to talk about Lisa’s gardening club’ because they can’t professionally tell him to fuck off. Thinks salt and pepper are the only spices one could ever possibly need, everything else is simply excessive. Somehow gay and homophobic. Like, yes, he’s taken a male lover, but he’s also seconds away from calling you a slur at any one time. Actually, no, that’s too interesting, and I refuse to believe he’s had a lover. Legally, he cannot have a lover, I’ve decided, so just gay and homophobic, both in theory alone. Has said that Boris Johnson is “a bit much, but really not so bad, and much better than any of the alternatives, really.” All of the cousins in his family banded together and officially got him banned from any sort of major holiday dinners. Basically every shitty boss you’ve ever had, especially if you’ve worked retail, rolled into one.”

Tim lets out a low whistle. “Damn, all right. Get fucked Elias.”

Sasha emphatically agrees, “Get fucked Elias.”

They all clink their glasses together, and then there’s a beat of silence before Martin says, “I’m pretty sure robots can’t get eye bags.”

Tim and Sasha let out a “huh” and “hmm?” respectively, so Martin elaborates. “You posited that Jon had been replaced with a robot. Pretty sure robots aren’t able to look that tired.”

Tim snaps. “Drat, you’ve pointed out the one flaw in my impeccable logic. So what d’you think is up with him? I know you don’t have the Before The Archives comparison, but I think you could provide a fresh perspective.”

“Oh, fuck, I don’t know. Two months ago, I might have had some choice words, but first off, you all genuinely got on, so it didn’t really make sense for him to be awful all the time, and secondly ever since the, um, worm thing, he’s actually been pretty nice? I haven’t heard any snide comments, and whenever I mess something up he’s a lot more, um, gentle about explaining what wrong. He actually complimented my work the other day so. I guess I think Jon’s deal was that he was stressed out and I was very nervous and not very good at my job and he picked up on that?”

“So you think he’s like a horse.”

“Explain.”

“He sensed your fear and he became skittish and irritable in kind.”

“Horses can sense fear?”

“Horses can sense everything.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Right?”

“Guys, we’ve gone on like four different tangents in one conversation. Martin, I’m very glad to hear that Jon’s changed his behavior towards, because it means I don’t have to yell at him on your behalf, you’re getting to see the person that me and Tim both know who is actually pretty cool, and also mostly because it feeds perfectly into my winning theory.”

“What, you’ve got something better than Martin’s ‘accurate but boring’ reasoning or my ‘super cool but now that I think about it for .5 seconds actually kind of a bummer robot’ knowledge?”

Sasha’s incredibly self-assured when she says, “I sure fuckin’ do. Jon’s secretly been in love with Martin the whole time, and he’s been previously overcompensating by acting like he hates him.” which makes Tim choke on air and Martin emphatically reply, “Fuck off, he is not.”

“No, no, hear me out, I have, I have receipts, as the kids say. First point of evidence: Martin’s stupid hot, and there’s no way that Jon is straight, so obviously he’s not gonna be impervious to that.”

“What?”

“Oh come off it Martin, it’s just a fact. Like, me personally? I don’t even do the whole romance thing, but the first time I ever saw you I blacked out slightly and thought ‘Now there’s a man I could raise some ferrets with.’.”

“I, um, I, well. Is that...supposed to be a euphemism for something?”

“What? No, I’ve just always wanted ferrets, and asking someone to raise pets with you is like the height of romance, I’m pretty sure. Back me up here Tim.”

“On the ferret thing or the Martin hot thing?”

“Either? Both.”

“Aight. Yes, asking someone to raise ferrets with you is basically a marriage proposal if that someone is Sasha, and I hate to break it to you Martin, but you’re incredibly good-looking. We’re all incredibly good-looking, to the point where I think the only qualification for the archives staff is being a straight up hottie. OH! We should name the group chat “straight up hottie squad”. Anyway, yep, point for Sasha.”

“Not a point for Sasha, even if I believe you about about my, em, physical attractiveness,-”

“-Don’t have to put belief in a fact, Marto-”

“-that doesn’t mean anything. By that logic, he’s equally as likely to be in love with either of you, and my money would be on Sasha if it was anyone, because you’re clearly his favorite.”

“Ah, but that’s exactly why it isn’t me, but thank you for the transition into my second point which is: Jon is the kind of person that sees anything that might make him vulnerable and starts aggressively defending himself against it, and what’s more vulnerable than a crush? He’s not crushing on Tim, because Tim’s fucking great, but sometimes he’s also the walking, talking embodiment of sensory overload, and while I myself I love that, Jon clearly gets a bit overwhelmed by it at times. He’s not into me, because he knows better than that, and overall I’m pretty non-threatening to his whole thing, so of course he’s going to be the most relaxed around me. You, on the other hand, are single, hot, kind to animals and people alike, and make a great cup of tea. Incredibly crush worthy, thus incredibly threatening, thus Jon acting like That.”

“Hmm, this still seems like something that comes from watching one too many corny rom coms, and that’ s coming from someone who loves corny rom coms.”

“I also love corny rom coms, but that’s completely beside the point. Because, okay, sure, if Jon had just been a weird asshole to you, I wouldn’t be like ‘oh, yeah, that’s a classic case of covering for something’ but you’re right about him being nicer since the worm thing. So nice, in fact, I shall be bringing in Timothy as my star witness that’s going to blow this whole case wide open. Martin, you may not have heard how Jon has started to talk about you, but me and Tim sure have.”

“God, yeah. Like if we thought he wouldn’t shut up about you before-

“-which he wouldn’t-”

“it’s gotten way worse now.”

“I think the whole life threatening worm woman flipped a switch for him and now he’s all fuckin. ‘Oh, Martin should stay in the archives, let me give him the place that I sleep.”

“Oh, Martin, I don’t think he should go out on too many research trips anymore, I’d much prefer for him to be ~nice and close~”

“Oh, Martin, good lord, did you know that his tea is quite good? I’m think it might actually be the best I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, Martin, his work’s rather improved, don’t you think? It’s really quite impressive, especially considering all the stress he’s had to endure.”

“Oh, Martin, I just want him to take me into his big, strong arms and whisk me away from all of this.”

“He did not fucking say that last one.”

Sasha throws her arms up in the air. “He may as well have!”

Nodding sagely, Tim replies, “This whole thing holds water. I vote Sasha gets the shopping trip. Martin?”

Martin stares at his drink as if it has any ability to give him any sort of answers, then lets out a sigh with his entire body. “You know what? It’s probably nicer than whatever the fuck is the truth, so sure, why not? Let’s get Sasha her cardigans.”

Sasha lets out a whoop. “Hell yeah! Can’t wait for spree, assuming all three of us get out of this cabin alive.”

“Okay, nope, clearly Sasha needs another distraction. Got any suggestions, Martin?”

“Uh, wasn’t a karaoke machine part of the sales pitch for this place?”

“Martey babey, yes! I wouldn’t have thought you’d spring for that sort of thing!”

“If this were a public bar or something where I’d have to listen to drunk strangers and they’d have to listen to me, then no, I’d rather have my brain pulled through my nose a la mummification. But with only you guys and fourish drinks in? I’m down to clown.”

“Sash, you with us?”

“Dunno, what songs are there?”

Tim shrugs, and heads to the storage closet that contains all the various entertainment equipment. It takes a bit of searching, and a bit more digging, but he’s able to unearth the ancient portable karaoke machine. He also grabs some of the jigsaws, mostly on the thought that sometimes a bitch just wants to hang out with their friends and do a puzzle. Also because in light of the fact that they’re stuck inside with no sort of access to the outside world for two days longer than planned, there’s pretty much no way that they’re not going to reach a point where they all say fuck it let’s do a puzzle.

Plugging in the machine, it takes a solid several minutes to boot up, which is the perfect length of time to take it upon himself to take one for the team and chug the box wine himself, with Sasha and Martin chanting in the background. When he finishes, they cheer, and then Martin immediately shoves a glass of water for him to down as well, muttering something about how he wants him to be alive in the morning. Tim can tell he’s well inebriated by now, because the simple thoughtful gesture is enough to make him a little bit misty-eyed, and Sasha can attest to alcohol turning him into the world’s biggest sap. In order to avoid prevent himself from becoming the kind of person who says “I love you” in a gradually more sloppy repeat, he starts flipping through the discography of the now running machine. “Alright y’all, it looks like we got 80s songs or...80s songs. Ooo, they have the Grease 2 soundtrack.”

That gets him a well deserved “No!” from both parties, with Sasha adding on, “Not even if it was Grease 1. I’m putting an embargo on musical theater in general.”

“Oh come on, some musicals are better than other. Right, Marto?”

“I’m with Sasha on this one.”

“Boo. But fine, what do you want?”

Martin and Sasha glance at each other, and Tim’s amazed at how well the bonding night-turned-long-weekend has gone so far, considering they seem to have already mastered the art of silent communication. Martin speaks first, with, “They got Dolly Parton?”

The process of scrolling through individual letters to type is achingly slow, but luckily all he needs to get through is “DO” before she shows up. “They do.”

Sasha says, “Do they got 9 to 5, by Dolly Parton?”

Tim’s eyes light up with realization as he says, “They do,” and in a moment of spontaneous understanding, all three of them know that they’re not simply going to sing 9 to 5. No, they’re going to do a full blown music video for the benefit for nobody but themselves, because why the fuck not.

The next hour is spent in a very silly fashion. They figure out how to use the cabin’s layout to their advantage, assign various parts of the song to each person, and practice their inexpert choreography a few times with the song tinnily blasting from Sasha’s phone. The final result is hardly of professional quality, but it is of making them all giggle quality. It starts off in a relay like manner, each of them in a different area to coordinate with “Tumble of out bed and stumble to the kitchen” (Sasha on the couch), “Pour myself a cup of ambition”, (Tim at the coffemaker), and “Yawn and stretch and try to come to life” (Martin at the fridge), with them finally crowding around the karaoke machine together to scream sing the chorus. Despite their practice, they quickly go off key, and while they might end up with low points for accuracy, they get full marks on enthusiasm.

When the song ends, it takes them a few minutes to settle down into something less giddy. As they do, Sasha, out of breath, says, “Fuck me, I’m sleepy now. What the hell?”

Tim hums in affirmation. “Goddammit, I’m tired too. Let me guess, Martin, you’re young enough that you could go all night?”

“No? I’ve never pulled an all-nighter in my life. Actually, I know that it was supposed to be in case the power went out, but huddling together under a blanket in front of a fire sounds really nice? I mean, um, if you guys were down.”

Sasha leans her head against Martin’s shoulder and takes on the expression of a deeply content cat. “Mmm, I call Martin, he’s warm.”

“Absolutely not, I also want to leech Martin’s warmth. You good with being in the middle?”

Martin’s practically beaming, but his voice manages to almost fake being put upon. “I suppose it’s a sacrifice I could make.”

With Sasha already half asleep, Martin brings her over to the couch, while Tim gets them all set up. He manages to find the kind of big, fluffy blanket that all cabins should contain and wraps it around their shoulders. Luckily for them, the fireplace is gas lit and can be put on a timer. He sets it for 30 minutes, even though all three of them are going to be long passed out before them. Sasha is already softly snoring away, and Martin’s head keeps drifting down and snapping back up. Tim curls up against Martin’s other side, and even though all three of them are going to wake up with aching backs and worse heads, he thinks he really just might be a genius after all.

*Why is Mr. Boddy’s name Dr. Black in the UK. I hate that. Why would you not have the dumb joke of naming the victim “boddy”. Hey brits explain your crimes.

#anon #replies #nat fic #tma #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 4 years ago

Text

Level 30

How is everything going for you all! I’m trying to stay on top of this story but some things are happening at work :) May the creative winds be with me

Tagging: @loudartanimeeclipse, @ihavenotfallenyet

Warnings: none

Master List

Level 30

“I just need to make sure you don’t think I’m your girlfriend.” You started, trying to keep your cool and eye contact with Yoshimoto.

“That much was apparent, especially after how many ‘not dates’ we had to go on before you admitted they were indeed dates.” Yoshimoto chuckled.

“Okay then,” you found yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you relax into your chair. “so, you’ve seen the ad for the next tournament, right?”

“I have, it looks to be a good one,” Yoshimoto remarked, picking up the menu.

“Agreed, you think we’ll have a better shot of winning this one?” You smiled as you bounced in your seat, excited by the prospect.

“Ah, about that.” Yoshimoto placed the menu silently back on the table. “Rose and I shall be participating together for this one.”

“Oh? I guess that makes sense. With her being on your team and all.” You responded, sure you were disappointed, but it made sense.

“Agreed, that plus I’d hate to pull you away from your work. I’m sure Dr. Tokugawa demands much of your attention.” You noticed the casual malice in his tone as Yoshimoto mentioned Ieyasu, and you tried not to bristle.

“Okay, I’ve told you already that time away from work isn’t an issue, so why do you insist it is unless it’s not about the work but who I’m working with?” You asked, fighting to keep your tone even.

“I can only imagine the type of scrutiny he puts your data through; even then, I am aware of your previous feelings for him, so I’d hate to get in the way of anything happening now.” Yoshimoto shrugged as he feigned being nonchalant.

“Excuse me.” Your blood boiled. “First off, my work has to be scrutinized; it’s a screening test for minimal residual disease—a major prognostic factor in survivability. Secondly, I’m literally here, with you, on a date. You’re being dismissive as hell. Thirdly,” You paused in your tangent, not sure if you wanted to finish the thought.

“Thirdly?” He pressed venom in his eyes

“I’d don’t like these nasty and baseless assumptions or being patronized. He’s not even the only doc on the project! You know what? I’m done. I’m leaving” And you did, picked your purse up and hastily handed the waitress your share for the meal you’d never eat on the way out.

After that, you didn’t speak to either of them. You were going out of your way to ignore all attempts at communication from both parties. The only real plus side to the whole situation was that not talking at work propelled your project forward all the faster. In the span of two weeks, you’d run nearly twice as many samples, and all results matched what current institutions already using the panel were putting out. If you kept up this pace, you’d be validated by the end of the month! Excited, you shot off a quick email notifying Dr. Togo and Tokugawa of your progress.

It only took a moment before the phone in the office started ringing. The caller ID didn’t give you much to go off of, and this was either a physician, a wrong number, or one of those weird collect calls trying to tell you that you’d overpaid your electric bill again. As if the hospital’s electric bill was any of your business.

“Flow lab, this is (YN).” You answered, pausing to wait out the game of phone roulette.

“(YN), hi. This is Dr. Togo. Are you and your supervisor available for a meeting this afternoon?” Markio asked.

“I know I am. I can ask Haru and see what’s on her calendar for the day.” You suggested.

“That’d be great. Here let me give you Ieyasu and my cell numbers. Just start a group conversation once you hear back from Haru, and we can plan something out.” Mariko chirped happily.

“Will do.”

You waited with a pen and a sticky note for the number, you didn’t have the heart to tell her you already had Ieyasu’s. It was a quick conversation. The only pause was you making sure to read the numbers back to her before she ended the call. As fast as you could, you left the tech office and headed out to find your manager, who was conveniently not in her office. After a quick search of the lab and a survey of your coworkers, all of whom had no idea where Haru had gone, you sent her a message.

Mariko called ← Wants to have a meeting ← U free this afternoon? ← (h) → Sure (h) → Does 2 work?

With confirmation your manager was free, you sent the first message in the group chat.

Hi, (YN) here. We’re free to meet this afternoon at 2. Will that work for you both? ← (i) → Yes (m) → Sounds good! Thanks (YN) (m) → See you all then!

Jittery, you fought to hold your concentration enough to compile all your data into one document to present. Maybe it was because you had such short notice to talk about your findings or because it was always a little weird talking about your research to others? You weren’t sure, so you swallowed the lump in your throat and ignored the way your heart jumped in your chest as you and Haru rode the elevator up fourteen floors to your two o’clock meeting.

Fortunately, the room was empty when you arrived. Giving you the time you needed to set up and pass around the data you had printed out for people to look at and take notes on. The glass door creaked open behind you, and Mariko chirped a hello as Ieyasu sauntered in beside her. Your eyes met and, not knowing what else to do, you smiled in greeting. To your surprise, he smiled back.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen afk #ikesen reader insert #ikesen gamer au #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen ieyasu

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theremarkablethingsaboutlove · 4 years ago

Note

1, 2 & 4 for the ask game ✨

thank u so much for asking!!! @alicewestwater

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

ooh boy. i’ve got like, a lot. i have a lot of ideas in different stages of progress but the one i have more worked on is solander, so i’m gonna talk about it. it’s a four book project on love and soulmates that spanned from a fic. it’s set on a modern day world where a fifth of the population sports an enhanced/modified sense -- it’s as normal as any other sensory disorder and is actually considered one. a side effect from this is the fact they only dream in their “talented” sense, EXCEPT for a set of recurring dreams that tend to happen once in which another person’s enhanced sense joins theirs. these are called the soulmate dreams and they’re my favourite part of it. i’m still hashing out the worldbuilding of it but i like the idea of it a lot. solander follows a group of friends/coworkers/siblings and their relationships to each other as well as to love, family, duty, expectations, wants and the concept of soulmates itself. it’s very fun to write in and i love my cast. i have plotted out the first two books and have a shortened version of them written out of both, but they require some heavy, heavy editing and a lot of expansion.

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

oh boy. i’m very looking forward to writing pacific, at all, just because i like the story so much and i can’t wait to read it but i know it’s the sort of project i need to be ready for writing. on solander, i can’t wait to write the labour of being, the last book, because i think siyeon and mk have the most archetypal and yet complex relationship to the concept of soulmates. they are the ones that i can say surely they are soulmates, they are the “““het””” trad “enemies to lovers” relationship, they are both very tropey (chaebol & prestigious photographer), but i feel like they really challenge the bounds they’re put in and i’m very interested in seeing where these intense motherfuckers take me :D

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

cw: blood, last thoughts, buried alive, etc?

What Annalys remembered most was the unbearable heat. It was perhaps the heat of her own blood pooling inside her or the heat of the soil that had seemed to pour from the bowels of the earth over them or just that dying in and of itself was a very hot affair. She pawed at Mina’s hand and it cut her so perhaps she was grasping rock instead but in her mind it was still her fingers that remained the only thing cold around her. She couldn’t feel under her knee at all, which she later learned was because she had a two ton rock smashing it to the ground. Jamie remained nowhere to be seen even through the little she could see from the soil that just kept and kept on pouring.

Annalys wondered if they would ever find them. If she would get to see her mother again, even if she’d said she didn’t want her. They probably wouldn’t be alive. They probably weren’t already, judging by how the heat grew behind her eyes. Everything tasted so dirty. She thought back to their game. Perhaps when they did find them, years and years and years after they had fallen, when they had become part of this mountain and this cave, they would know them by what they were. A couple of knights and a bard.

this is from the first chapter of the first book of whalefall, which i haven’t started writing. the context is that annalys, jamie and mina (then thirteen and fifteen) escaped from camp to go play pretend and a landslide buried them alive inside a cave. these are annalys’ last thoughts, technically, though she doesn’t die, and i like the last few sentences particularly due to the whimsy of it. also the fact that they will be a couple of knights and a bard, and when they go back the second time, the collective memory of that and the terrible things they did will be the only things they have to go by to survive. it’s not a particularly polished bit of writing, so it probs won’t stay, but i like the imagery.

#alicewestwater #ask meme #THANK U SO MUCH FOR ASKING #IM VERY SORRY I RAMBLED SO MUCH

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dayna-scully · 6 years ago

Text

ncis/tiva s7 lb

Truth or Consequences

I’ve never really been able to tell whether or not tony was acting in this bit

small muscles, big brain

coffee aficionado and functional mute

it never fails to astound me how much effort media has put into demonizing muslims

I was gonna say it was love driving tony, but I suppose that factors into vengeance

Tony’s full of bs

tony was not dealing well with not having ziva there

we have to deal with the writers pining over Kate for like 11 years but ducky’s over ziva being around after like 2 months? What is wrong with y’all

ziva’s not replaceable

tony, not keeping himself together as well as he used to

even after jeanne he was not so messy

what kind of failure/the kind with casualties

lotta sand

it’s not normal that we haven’t heard from ziva

I swear to god they use my name the most for tertiary characters, there were at least three just last season

I don’t know why they had to make Tony’s trauma fugue funny

neither of them were expecting that

it had to be you

you should not have come

you thought I was dead? then why are you here?

couldn’t live without you, I guess

he couldn’t leave her alone

she is very melodramatic

but so is tony

isn’t that the same “village” tony went to with Nikki

they’re not aliens, tony

stay alive long enough to not get dead 🤔

her own biological father doesn’t love her enough to save her

yeah gibbo!

I don’t understand how he could have possibly got there so fast but ok

I hate group claps

hella cringey

7x02

she’ll call when she’s ready

she looks so much better

bb girl

an angel

sleazeball

why would you egg a church?

why would you tell someone to their face that they’re “damaged goods” what the fuck

long, silent, meaningful eye contact

and mcgee chattering in the background

spots are still to tender for normal verbal barbs

I will be right here

what is wrong with Abby

he did kill Michael partially because he was jealous

mostly to protect her but

SHE IS ASHAMED OF HERSELF WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

no normal person ever calls tony sir

so why are you avoiding tony

it had to be said in the men’s room

and double parked/yes, I noticed

I could not afford to trust you

cue ugly crying

I wonder why he could not look her in the eye

the neck grab is so intimate, and definitely echoes her face touch

waiting in dad’s basement

HE’S HER DAD

ziva’s here

7x03

that is total salami/baloney

ew dinozzo

oh bb ziva

7x04

it looks like a damn teen wolf convention

ziva hasn’t been ziva since we brought her home

everyone just keeps dumping on her

gibbs isn’t acting like he’s on team ziva

at any cost

he’s her dad

I did not mean to live through it

he’s her dad i’m cry

bb probiee

7x05

agent David

personal space

uhhh let me check, ziva?/no

digital images don’t work that way!!!

that’s so high school flirting

I say it with love

prankster probie

7x06

sleepy probiee

who says you have a say

stealing our precious body fluids

wh…what body fluids is ziva stealing from you tony?

ah, shame, my pencil broke

smug lil probie

we have been instructed to sit on the baby

I wanna see ziva with tali 😖

worth is so much hotter with long hair

7x07

normal work partners

that really looks like the diner from bones, and it’s definitely the one they used previously, but I would assume the bones one was on the fox lot? And that cbs wouldn’t have access to it

tony goes on a schpiel about how attractive Kai is and then tells ziva they must be alike

ok tony

you annoy me sometimes/sometimes?/most of the time

why is she nice to you and not to me?

because you’re emotionally repressed and can’t keep your mouth shut dinozzo

hey ziva, what the fuck

does tony have to sit behind ziva to work?

Tony’s jealous of mcgee, he’s jealous of Dunham…he can’t get any and his crush doesn’t seem to like him back

well well well how the turn tables

he cleans up nice/not that nice

he’s not being a big brother ziva

brother-zoned

last thing I need is a chad Dunham

hey ziva what the fuck

why are you looking at Tony’s dick

if you believe in that kind of thing

yeah mcgee a double date

oh mcgoo

7x08

that’s a looong time to be stuck in an elevator

it was either you or the watch

well we could be stuck here with tony

7x09

are you letting some blonde bombshell baste your bird, tony?

you dork!!!

normal

track-tor

I guess?????

I wonder if they styled that girl like flashback!shannon on purpose

ew god why

the favourite gets to ride shotgun

ziva, mean muggin’

aw, happy gibbs is so rare

7x10

yes I’m sure souther California gets a lot of snow

stop making my team fat

with his brother Darrel and his other brother Darrel

including the language of love, ten

those look more like sugar cookies but ok

bullheaded stubbornness

you’re one to talk, z

bah humbog

tearing up cause she’s proud of her boyfriend

7x11

tweeeeeting

perhaps baby bird is ready to leave the nest

jet packs…yeah, it’s gonna be a weird one

we spend a lot of time here, just the three of us

smug!!!

we always get the shots of ziva checkin these dudes out

you’re quoting better off dead, I told you to watch that

McGee is such a dork

fucking adorable

is that, like…necessary

a Thief

oof gibbo be nice

she acts like she hates me, but she talks like she likes me

gibbs has a crush

I don’t speak Canadian

hmm

why can’t shows just shoot pictures instead of photoshopping them badly

7x12

mind your own business/ooh, grouchy

ziva is ziva, nothing to tell

that is too disgusting to translate

why in the world did they ever hire senior

Tony’s REAL dad meeting his bio dad

ugh I hate him

poor tony

you may have to hire someone to protect him from me

gibbs has several children, one of whom is your son

Jetlag

ahhhhh!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Paris!!!!!!

I slept well last night, why, didn’t you? You certainly looked…comfy enough

oh???? Really????

that is not an innocent face

cute cute cute

we had enough “together”

you askin me on a date, duck?

I think Paris changed her

act natural!!!!!

you’re complementary

are you sure you two never?/no. positive. definitely no.

a good fit

she’s so soft about tony though

even if she is lying about where she slept 👀👀👀

caveman grunts

she adores him

why did you just lie to mcgee?/why’d you lie to Nora?

she’s trying so hard not to blush

his favourite picture

7x14

ugh that’s cringey

well we know his “little dinozzo-makers” survived…

the kids giggling about dad and his crush

TOTALLY NOT EAVESDROPPING

totally innocent

I am going to go…get a haircut

I think technically we own the building

come on ziva

(soft!!!!!)

what salim did was bad enough

I don’t really remember a lot of these episodes

the big tiva ones, yes, but the other ones not really

I guess we just have better nerds than you do

7x15

aww worth bb

I wish they could’ve gotten him to replace dinozzo

“get ziva and dinozzo out of bed”

“individual beds”

EVEN MCGEE THINKS THEYRE SLEEPING TOGETHER

boyfriends

how does ziva know where he sleeps

worth is very werewolf-y

no I was wrong they’re not boyfriends they’re husbands

ziva’s got sex face

Jean jacket ziva 💕💕💕

cutie

don’t be a dick tony

I only have one nose and it’s on my face

jealous tony

yeah whatever, you already slept with my wife

F U!!!!

Tobias dukes-in’ it

i wasnt askin ya!

it’s fun to make tony jealous

7x16

book suppository

our girls

7x17

keep your story straight but not so straight that it’s exactly the same

7x18

I’m glad I wasn’t your valentine/so am I

Casey!!!

but it is the coast guard

she loooves him

you mean he’s deceased, too?

he used to sing with the monkees/real monkeys?

I envy your brain sometimes

ducky’s bow ties are back

movie date!!!

What are you doing with me, watching a movie on a Friday night at work

you are my friend

really/no

both of your “dates” “cancelled” so you…decided to have a date together?

what was she thinking of saying??

she loooves him

7x19

are you two dating now?

a seven year bitch

that was a very bad fake slap

why couldn’t they have had ziva there

ziva is barely in this one

she loves him

things were hanging out? that is disgusting

7x20

once and future king of dorkland

Sand mites might bite

ziva is very proud of her dad

we have hit a shamu

I may have to hurt you

7x21

what would this woman possibly see in you

take ziva with you

ziva’s not used to being the jealous one anymore

tony is being a creepy stalker

Rivera turns out to be a villain, I think

ziva is concerned about tony

I forgot that Obama was president when this would have aired

tony sitting separately says a lot

he would usually be the one beside ziva

tony, being unwarrantedly intimate with a stranger

a quiet bookstore owner as a Russian spy is actually really interesting

7x22

Jamie!

toe cheese

realizing tony and ziva lied about Paris 👀👀👀

oh gibbs

7x23

cowboy gibbs

what are you, anti flan?

ooooh gibbo

oh gibbs

7x24

fathers and daughters

they’re his children, not his coworkers

staring at dad

personal space

ziva bb

looking for her dad and her boyfriend

#ncis #tiva #liveblog #show: ncis #ship: tiva

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xz017 · 6 years ago

Text

oof. okay so imma do the latest tea???

got out of shower to hear my mum talkin to Agnes spillin the tea abt their friend/coworker

the one with that Kid my mum wanted to have a playdate with or whatever the annoyingly studious and clearskinned halfasian lookin girl i really envied.

her mum has a live in boyfriend who is basically like...an alcoholic mental case rip god i hate alcohol and i hate people who drink it like i only do it so i hate myself more and die but like this guy basically playin with knives n guns in the house and the kid who is like 19 idk why im callin her kid is so Over it like apparently she hasn’t been coming home and like

basically me in 2016 era when my mum was too generous n Helpful lettin ppl back into our lives and our House so i spent christmas morning 5am walkin in the cold n watchin 3 films until it got dark and stuff like that

girl be actin homeless---mood

so it came to a head today so Agnes is spillin the tea n her husband in the bg(omg it weird hearin him rip he was my military hs instructor wild) n my mUM is so selfrighteous n mad like

‘blablahblah well rosalie is being dumb she should put her daughter first she being sick in the head it her Choice’

n im like eavesdroppin havin warflashbacks of the dumb hypocrisy she has DOne lmao

‘has she no thought like what if Tyler gets raped/sexually abused by that man she’d let her daughter be in that environment???’

i mean it wouldnt be fair of me to be like...eyemoji on this cos she technically doesn’t know? but 19 may 2018 never4get lmao

anyway so my mum’s like our room is for rent and it’ll be far cheaper they dont even have to pay rn!!!

cue me being like...um...Money...generosity...i dont...LIke

i was conflicted here like idk i met the girl like 3-5 times im envious of her work ethic n her better asian disposition than mine cos she obviously prettier but she has better prospects and that’d suck if her life be like that

but also??? like...life be like that it was like that to me like who saved me?????????????????????

um...no one

like why is that on me or US TO BE NICE n helpful im so tired like damn which is relevant to the next point anyway

cos earlier had a convo with my mum i was eyemojing healthcare profs i was like ‘pls stop bein on ye phone pls tell me info on ye opinion on respiratory therapists...what abt PA’

n deadass she be eyemojing me like STICK TO YOUR COURSE

n i was like...-ugly pleadin emoji eyes- n i was tryin to explain that i didn’t want to be so focused on one thing that if i decide this medical thing is what i want to pursue i’d need 1-2 years just for the PREREQS which is like 5 classes and 1000 clinical hours or minimum 6 month healthcare paid job. like if i decide i want to go to school for that i already have the Stuff and just Apply.

n she was like...you had your chance i bothered you to be a nurse a few years ago you were stubborn if you did as i said you’d be earning good money now but you wasted time

n i was like...oof i can’t say anything to that it’s tru. it real life tea it fax i wasted time n im old n im ruunnin out of time i hate myself alot i hate hate hate

and idk we got to talkin abt money n life cos she was like you have to find something you can learn to LOve

n i was like??? WHY I GOTTA SETTLE N FOOL MYSELF TO DO SO im super annoyed abt that mindset

cos the thing about a bloody Arts degree is there’s too fuckin many broad possibilities n they all aint even that good. like deadass if i was a STEM major ugh like if i was a Bio major prospects are so clear: forensics, research, premed,labtech. Meanwhile polsci for example: uhhh teacher? prelaw? politician? uhhh government work? n there’s like 111 different subdivisions of that n it’s like??? wat the fuck

deadass what am i gonna do with international security is that even gonna pay well like...the fuck do i know is it relevant ??? Doubts

n she was all like...PEOPLE JUST GOTTA DO WHAT THEY HAVE TO TO SURVIVE YOU GOTTA FIND YOURS N STICK WITH IT

n i was lowkey panique n frustrated cos i really REALLY hate being stuck in 1 ting n im like i HAD ACTING YOU SAID NO

n she was like pFF i wanted you to have something REAL cos if you dont make it in acting you’d be on the STREETS

n i was like...lmao lil did she know imma be on the streets next year smh this year actually

n she was like talkin abt the harsh reality of the workforce and how you gotta make do at how ppl treat you (patients) n how you might not even like your coworkers but you gotta deal with it because that’s what ppl do to survive

n she was talkin abt undeserving patients with no healthcare n i was like did you just hear yourself so you want them to die cos they dont got money and she was like

no??? why get hooked up in the ICU when you’re braindead wasting government money taxes we payed for you don’t understand cos you dont have a job and dont get your salary cut cos of taxes and these people come in acting like they got something to give when they yell at your face acting like they know what they’re talking about they act entitled when they have nothing homeless ppl getting money and illegal immigrants are selfish bringing their kids to be hurt here

n im like...theyre life is ...shitty what are you talkin about n she was like so? why dont they stay and make it better??? one of my very first patients asked me why i was in america and i said i come from a poor country and they said why didn’t you stay and try to make it better? and i couldn’t say anything cos u know what they were right why dont illegal immigrants do that??? n im like...

cos theyre literally...RUNNIN and they want ppl they care abt i.e. children to be far away from that as soon as possible bruh ye think imma wait for change deadass there a reason why we suffer duterte he actually get shit done??? we dont have to wait for change the same way ppl who speak nice n are polite do but is stuck with bureaucracy and lowkey bein corrupt deadass stay in ye lane

n she’s like well i hope you’re right im done bein an idealist im a realist now i believed in good i wanted to help the world now no more

n im like...no you’re not a realist, you’ve just been hangin out with a republican

and she gave me a sideeye

but deadass im ...scared like i really hate the empathy because when she was being serious n talkin n being honest abt things for once i started to unwillingly see things from her point of view i really felt it n i was scared i’ll be like that im scared she’s right

im scared i’ll end up Real n selfish like...i already am ? n bitter? like i care about so very few Personally and am willin to let others suffer to keep it safe n prioritised?

im scared.

like especially with racism all these years my mum’s been telling me it’s not that im racist just wait til you work with them they act so entitles and loud and make everything about race

n i almost told Her abt it earlier i skyped w her earlier we had a tea spillin moment about our ethnic relations bein racist but then idk we talked alot i guess the text got buried or unseen

like i said i was scared n didn’t get to unpack it like im scared because ive been livin with my roomate and like...ive been excusing it as a personality thing and that if it were anyone else different skin colour id still hate them just the same which i still maintain is true but like?

my RM is loud n she makes everything abt race like deadass me n my FM be just eating dinner and she passes by us and goes on a rant about harvard asians being a Blok to black ppl from getting There n im like...im tryna have dinner so i can get energy to deal with this stressful ass school

n she always talks like she knows what she’s talking about like ‘jewish ppl control the federal bank’ n im like...it 1am in the dark quiet of our shared room deadass i dont wanna tell the binch thats antisemitism cos she gonna be like im black how can i be racist smh

im!!! scared alright like i hate my roomate for proving my mum right when i try so hard to set things right like maybe that’s why i dont tell anyone about my situation other than Her. i never told my parents about the berkeley livin situation they already warn me enough to be careful n i just keep tellin them thats racist

i have so much........THOUGHTS n........DILEMMAS...n FEARS but like i just have this blog i cant trust anyone else to talk abt it n the only person i am willing to talk to abt it will be busy and im so ashamed abt these things but she was so sweet about givin me the heads up about her schedule

like i hated that i had to get an ugly ass haircut today cos she came back to me n we couldve talked so i guess rip she was complacent n did stuff cos she replied late from then on like that dumbass haircut was 15 minutes ugh. our talkin pattern today was like...dashed lines timereply wise? i asked her if she packed earlier (pre haircut)n she said yes but rip a few hours later she was like...I need to pack

wat is the truth rip

the tablet bein emo like...mood but my child rip.

my love be packin n spendin time with fam before leavin for london tomorrow

n even after that she doin...Stuff. rip.

which is ye know good for her rip.

i just hope she dont go iceskatin deadass one slip n she can crack her head open or break her neck or paralyse her spine like...??? why do humans wanna do dumb activities

like omg she admitted to me today she a serial jaywalker and WORSE with music n headphones like

binch thats why i didnt wanna enable you further by gettin ye airpods deadass bye

n she was like??? tryna equate it with my risky risk like ummm

mine is for science n validity

hers is just carelessness n chosin lazy convenience over idk...the responsibility of self vigilance like...

bruh ppl shouldnt promise someone 91 years if they be continuin to do dumb stuff consciously oof rip

but other than that like...im...really proud of this resolution she be undertakin officially on the 14th?

im nervous abt it cos i really want it for her too. i want her to get the proper sleep n i always hated her givin excuses like ‘IM FINE ON 4 HOURS OF SLEEP’ ‘I NAPPED 3 HOURS 38293820 HOURS AGO IM FINE I MADE UP FOR IT’ um...blokt. get proper sleep binch i love you tf???

prioritise work cos ye gonna regret not givin it yer all??? n ye payin for this???

what fun??? we capitalists now we want that money rip.

i see that shift you know rip i saw it comin a year ago.

that dont mean we republicans rip we still care about others n the inequality? but like i foresaw us getting acquainted with the harsh reality of the world n how difficult it is to get a job--which she experienced along the way.

n rip she wants many things bookmarkin them n honestly same rip

i want a stable warm home for this family n a shiny diamond to get disassociated by extra im a simple man

meanin im selfish n im ready to prioritise meanin im ready to make the choice for others to fall apart/behind if it means puttin This first rip

god pls dont make me a republican this so ugly

# 1 she’d hate me #2 i’d hate me

now im sad

im dead.

omg rip earlier too as she said goodbye i told her i loved her and she was like ‘i love you more’

DEADASS I WAS LIKE LMAO!!! girL i dont think you understand im literally Ready to put you and our possible future First like...im not messin around what skitrips with rich ppl what friends my love is potent n extreme n COncentrated like im sorry ik you feel love for me but you cant top This rip she not ready

like the um ‘partially wanna make my life’s work abt knowin what might hurt n kill ye so i can kill it first or blok it well’ kinda love

the ‘im already savin for at least HALF a first month deposit in an overpriced london in case you wanna settle down wit me Mayhaps n im not touching it for ANYTHING’ kinda love

the ‘im thinking of a winter home in the tropics so you suffer less n im plannin the floorplans already rip just in case’ kinda extraness

but anyways the gall of this cute lovely human rip ‘i love you more’ ummm try Again smh

bruh i love her too much i bet that’s scary for her rip it might be a Burden tbh she so young rip

meanwhile im old n ready to rot but like...

i wanna be mortal wit ye before i do

but ye know wat lads i saw myself in the mirror today like 5 times OOF. this meatform...keepin me...Humble.

bitter but like...humble

‘like of course sHe not ready not only is my personality like dis but also...my outward form how could she introduce me as a Spouse’

‘wow i look like that oof it good i remembered i am undeservin of full intense love like in the films n fanfiction they always between attractive ppl after all it only 1/2 it not Equal’

‘wow bruh ye really upset she spendin time n resources elsewhere when you be lookin like That? ye dont have much to offer bro take the L’

oof so that’s the personal tea i can think of?

had a meghan marke talk rip i can’t believe i was right??? i had twin vibes!!! but i was hoping for like a variety situation rip im worried a lil abt the whole birthin Late ting but she can afford the highest care rip it fine she rich.

my love was talkin abt how pretty MM was n i was like rip is she triggerin Her a lil rip worrirooni

rip speakin of babies like she was showin me this smol gummybear n im like same das me heart n she was like :( n i was like it only fits you

n she was like so no children then:(

n i was like!!! rip if it Ours of course that Counts n i was a lil shook like rip she said she didn’t want them Really so i always get guilty when i talk abt the future or realise i mentioned kids or carelessly name drop Hyaline n Benzion like...im dead rn just typin that like what if she read this big shame bro

but ye know what this is already long n she gonna be busy maybe that’s the key. TOo Much puts ppl OFF so ye mayhaps we sneaky ! ?

anyway i was tryin to get her thoughts on it rip but like she was all iDK ASK ME IN 13 Yrs n i was like...

sighemoji + sandemoji + resignedemoji

rip we talked FAaC a lil. cos she Dared!!! to liken me to her brother just cos i showed her my cheap youth boy shoes smh

At first i was super offended n disgusted but then i was like rip eyemoji if ye into that

then she was like ew nO

then i was like um ye already play the ‘daddy u like me young huh’ card

which is like idk is like technically? joking but it’s like that post ye know abt ppl bein ‘whether or not im actually jokin or flirtin depends if you into it’ but also like schrodingers racism like ‘it was a joke bro!!!’ but they actually bigots.

so it DIFFICULT for my brain to Confirm rip like...eyemoji what is the truth

but like??? im rip. willin. rip. to. rip. Try. rip.?

really i am rip. it Her. bruh. im only hopin she dont have a golden shower kink but. trust i...Will follow thru.

nO IM REMEMBERIN THE DOO DOO POST DESPAIR

rip anyway that whole thing reminded me of FAaC origins which was porn n then somehow sHe was like imagine if egggsy was a singer he’d sing like ‘age is just a number’ shit n i SPILLED THE TEA ABOUT A TING IN PT 3 im so weak sand

i miss the gays

i wanna give them justice n happiness but the 2027 excuse is rl nice for my ugly procrastination issues oof but i wish them well

add: rip had another talk with my mum i really wanted her to understand my thought process about wanting to get the prereqs for medtraining done beforehand

n she was like...I UNderstand but Normal people--

n i was like ‘IM NOT NORMAL I DONT KNOW HOW TO CHOOSE I HAVE NO IDENTITY’

n she’s just like SHOOKE n mad n clearly dont understand that im fukt up in the head ‘...IC AN’T BELIEVE YOU!!! iF YOU’RE ABNORMAL YOU WONT GET HIRED N YOU WONT HAVE A NICE JOB’

n im like...well i mean what can i say to that it’s not like it’s not tru rip

Big sand honestly.

it gonna be a long few days imma do my best to leave her alone she needs her time rip i love her so much rip sand

i feel like a dumb ugly dog god fljækadfkøad h8

#personal tea #read more only #entry

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