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wandering-dogs · 5 years ago

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Hi! I hope this is ok to ask, but why'd you pick a BC to be your service dog? Definitely not judging, because I've been really strongly considering it myself, but everyone tells me that BCs are generally too sensitive for public access!

Oh boy, I just managed to delete everything I wrote on this. =w=;Well. This is REALLY fucking long, so… Under the cut we go.TLDR; there were a lot of personal circumstances to think about between my disabilities, money, and timing, and it was moreso that a BC fit neatly into those than I necessarily wanted a BC from the beginning.

So! First off, I should mention, you’re absolutely correct. When I got Wander, this was a thing I was warned about. I specifically asked for a dog who rebounded off of scares quickly, and I got just that. He definitely recovers fast, but he is, absolutely, a sensitive dog. Moreso than I would have wanted.

But, there were a few things I had to think about that led me to getting a BC, even with the warning that they were sensitive.

1. I’ve seen a lot of successful border collie service dogs. Like, a surprising amount. This was one of the reasons I even started looking into them! That, combined with a few questions placed at a few different people, really made them seem like an option. Not necessarily, the ideal, but…

2. I don’t like the main service dog breeds. Or, rather, I hate living with them. I’ve owned labs and golden retrievers, and I really, truly, did not want to have to live with another. I think they’re great dogs! I think all my friends should have one! But I know myself, and I know that it would not be fair to me or my dog to get one of those two breeds. Even if they have a higher chance of success, what would that have mattered if I was constantly getting annoyed at things that are perfectly normal for those breeds? Poodles, which were another option, I just didn’t know enough about. There’s a lot of grooming that goes into them for one, which I have no experience in (though I’d love to learn) and I know nothing about their temperaments other than they are retriever-y dogs. Which is why I ended up vetoing them to be on the safe side.

3. An organization was likely out of the question. I don’t know enough about organizations and how they should run to tell a good one from a mediocre one, to start. Then there’s also that they normally choose breeds that I just simply don’t get along with. But the real kicker is that I really couldn’t locate one that would work with me. I’m autistic and have PTSD along with some other mental issues. Finding an organization that works with autistic adults? Near impossible. I, to this date, have not been able to locate one that looks decent. And PTSD ones are mostly geared towards veterans, which I am not. The other issue is time frame; I did not have a ton of waiting time.

4. So, I was majorly depressed at the time. Like, sleeping for days on end, not getting out of bed, angry, depressed. This was partially due to processing multiple layers of trauma! The main issue however was that I hit an autistic breakdown. Think of it as a mental break. I couldn’t read for several years after this happened, for example. I still, to this day, have some days where I cannot read more than a sentence at a time without losing the ability altogether. Typing up a paragraph? This whole thing that you’re currently reading? That was a pipe dream for me at the time. And for someone who spent their whole like from age 4 (yes, four) to 19 reading chapter book upon chapter book a day to cope? That was a devastating loss. I have still not been able to read as many books, but I’m improving! (for reference, I’m currently 23)

4.5. Animals are my life. At the time, we had lost our old rescue lab, and just gotten Simon, who had settled in beautifully. I’d intended to see if he would work out as a service dog, but was told no immediately (family dog, not YOUR dog), and wasn’t allowed to work with him. This meant his anxiety worsened because I couldn’t continue his socializing, and by the time they realised I really needed a service dog, it was too late for Simon to have a chance. (He’s also protective, so it wouldn’t have worked out anyways most likely) But, I was depressed, in bed, and had no purpose. Caring for a puppy would force me out of bed. I knew this, my mum knew this, and so it just kind of… It didn’t have a rush or timeline. I was willing to wait. But it definitely was something I couldn’t just sit around and wait years for either.

5. Originally, I’d planned on getting a Berger Blanc Suisse. And in all honesty, I still plan on getting one! I still think they would be better suited to my needs, and I certainly prefer the look and size of them! But, I couldn’t find a good BBS breeder near me, and shipping/flying out was likely not an option either. Now that I know more of where to look, I have my eye on a few, but… That’s neither here nor there.

6. I was worried that the dog would wash out. I couldn’t be sure that I would be able to afford regular training, as I am paid based off of commissions, and knew my parents wouldn’t make it a priority (i was correct). This meant that there was a pretty decent chance that the dog would wash out, because I was the only one who’d be training him. I didn’t really have any local dog training friends, all I had was some practice on Simon and a plethora of videos and research. Which meant that the dog washing out had to be taken into account from the start. I’m not a person who would be able to rehome a dog I raised as my own, though I understand why and how others do. But I definitely needed some sort of backup plan. Border collies are good at sports, make decent pets in case the dog washed out into an ESA, and yet also were okay service dog prospects! Not ideal, but it was one of the closest I could find to an ideal dog. A little bit of sensitivity seemed like a decent trade off for a dog who I knew I could do a ton of things with, even if my plans well through.

7. I’d been looking into BC’s already, more as a backup plan if I couldn’t locate a BBS breeder that would/could work with me, when I got a recommendation towards a BC breeder. I went in, looked at her page, looked at her dogs, joined her pup group and poked around, and finally sent her a message, asking if she was going to have any future breedings that would supply a dog with the temperament I needed. She messaged back saying she had a puppy there already who fit, and we worked out a discount contract. I’d already had some money saved up between commissions and some donations, and my parents offered to cover the rest of the cost. After that, its history.

I’m sure I forgot something, but that’s… a lot of info anyways.

I want to be very clear though, now that I’m at the end.

I don’t regret getting Wander. I am not on good terms with his breeder anymore, after a lot of drama, but I do know a lot of people who own her dogs, and like them very well. I love Wander a lot, and he really was the perfect dog for me at the time. I don’t know if I’d change any of my choices if I had the chance; I can’t claim to know that.He’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. I call him a service dog in training still because I feel that he very much is. I can’t say for sure that I’d wash him out. He has flaws, and I am afraid that they’re worse than I think. But when given the opportunity to act out or be afraid? He doesn’t. He constantly surpasses my expectations.He does have a few issues caused by my dad when he was a puppy; Barking at strangers, for example, or people leaning over him, which makes him a bit nervous.He also is not a perfect dog because I’m not a perfect trainer. With the right experience, I think Wander would have already been a fully fledged service dog. But I don’t have that experience; I couldn’t give him that.

If you wanted reasons to go for a border collie as a service dog, there are plenty.They make great dogs if they wash out. They pay attention to you. They’re ready to go whenever you want or need to. They aren’t grooming heavy. They’re not as talkative as some other breeds (Wander for example is near silent). They’re gorgeous, multipurpose dogs.But there are just as many, if not more reasons to go with a golden, or a lab, or a poodle.So my advice, unsolicited as it might be, is to make sure that your reasons, however many there are, are weighed correctly. I had fewer reasons to go with a border collie, but they were more important reasons to me. They weighed more than the reasons I could have chosen another breed.

Next time, I doubt I’ll get a border collie. But for me, with the timing and other concerns I had? A border collie, especially Wander, was the perfect choice.

I’d also definitely rather have a trainer next time, but I’d also have rather had one this time too.

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ibuki-loves-you · 4 years ago

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Trigger Happy Havoc Girls with an S/O who is like Mikan

Warnings: Mikan's personality/actions

Mod Ibuki: Hey hey hey!! Sorry for the long wait on this :/ I hope it was worth it, though!

Kyoko:

Kyoko was immediately worried for your safety

She had a lot of questions

Why were you so shy? Had you been through something?

She kept those questions to herself though

If someone ever made fun of you, she’d glare

Literally just walk up to you, wrap on arm around your waist and the other on your arm

And glare

If you ever took a fall in front of her she’d carefully lean down and help you up, suggestive or not

Although she might blush a bit if it was a suggestive position

“There, you’re alright. It was just a small trip, thankfully.”

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for her, she would be appalled

“Love, I don’t want you to take your clothes off because I’m not in a particularly good mood. Bad moods are normal, that doesn’t mean you take your clothes off every time it happens. Don’t offer that to me unless you personally want to do it.”

Kyoko is not someone you can look at and feel as if she’s mad at you, because she makes it clear if she is

But if you did think she was, she’d be pretty upset

“No, love. I’m not mad. You did absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing at all. I honestly don’t think I can be mad at you. You just seem to make everything better.”

Kyoko’s heart skips a beat whenever you’re around <3

Hina:

Hina LOVED YOU

The minute you two met she did not let you out of her sight for long periods of time

She was just worried someone would hurt you or take advantage of you

If someone ever made fun of you, she’d be so mad

No one wants to deal with mad swimmy baby

“That is so rude, you know!? That was completely uncalled for! There was absolutely no reason to say that! Now apologize!”

If you ever took a fall in front of her, she would honestly fall too just to make you feel less embarrassed

She’d cover you if need be, though

Either with clothing or with herself when she “falls”

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for her, she’d be in shock

Mainly because you offered it to her because you thought she was upset

“What!? Please, S/O, no! Don’t say that! Taking your clothes off won’t make me feel better, cuddles will! Get over here! Because of that statement, I demand you let me cuddle you!”

If you ever thought Hina was mad, which is rare, she’d he so upset

“Baby! No! Not at all! I could never be mad at you! I swear! Your face is just too adorable to be mad at!”

Swimmer baby just wants your happiness above all

Celestia:

Celeste would never admit it if anyone asked

But she loved you the minute she laid eyes on you

Your personality only made her want to be with you more

Not many people dared to bother you, but if an unlucky soul did try to do such a thing…

Celeste would give them a run for their money

“Are you fucking kidding me!? How dare you!? Why don’t you crawl back into whatever ditch you crawled out of and leave my significant other alone! Do I make myself clear!?” She’d turn to you and give you a soft smile. “Come on, dear. Let’s go get some tea to cheer you up, yes?”

If you fell in front of her, she wouldn’t be able to catch you without falling herself, but she’d immediately take your hands and help you up

“Come now, darling. Don’t cry, it was an accident. Everything is alright.”

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for her, it would take a second to click

But once it did her reaction was similar to Kyoko’s

“Darling, I don’t wish for you to take off your clothes merely because Yamada put me in a foul mood. I would much rather you keep said clothes on and have a cup of tea with me, maybe some conversation as well. Please don’t offer yourself to me out of pity.”

If you ever thought she was made at you, she honestly thought she was gonna cry

“W-What? Dear, no. Not one bit. Not one ounce of me is angered by you. I love you far too much to be mad at you. Now, come here and let me hug you.”

Celeste truly does care about you, more than she has cared for anyone before <3

Sakura:

Protective

That’s it

Sakura wants your safety above all, because she knows how shy people can be taken advantage of easily

If anyone dared to make fun of you, oh boy

Sakura is fucking terrifying

“I suggest you run before I snap you in half.”

That’s all it takes to send them on their way

If you fell in front of her, she would definitely be able to catch you

And she would!

But if you did manage to miss her arms, she’d pick you right back up and hold you

“See? I got you. Everything is okay.”

If you offered to take your clothes off for her, she’d be calmer, but nonetheless upset

“Hey, don’t do that. I don’t want you because of your body. I want you because of your personality. That’s what I fell in love with. Don’t offer yourself to me, or anyone else. Ever. It’s your body, you can most certainly choose what to do with it.”

If you thought she was angry with you, she’d be so quick to tell you otherwise

“No, not at all. I am not mad in the slightest. Even if I was, I’d never take my anger out on you. That’s wrong, and I love you too much to even think about doing that.”

With Sakura as your girlfriend, you will always be protected. And that’s a promise

Mukuro:

Mukuro is shy, but definitely not as shy as you

Like Sakura, she wanted your safety above all

Let it be from others or her cruel sister

If someone ever made fun of you, she’d be pretty angry

Hell, she may put those skills of hers to good use

“Hey. Don’t let me hear you say something like that again. Ever. That’s just plain disgusting.”

If you ever took a fall in front of her, her reflexes are extremely fast, so she’d try her absolute best to catch you

More often she does, but on the off chance she’s unsuccessful, she’d apologize with a bright blush

“I-I’m sorry, love. I tried to catch you, uh, I’m sorry. Here, grab my hands.”

If you offered to take your clothes off for her, she’d immediately say no

“S-S/O! No! No, I-I don’t want you to do that! I-I’m not in a bad mood, and even if I was I wouldn’t want you to take your clothes off just to try to improve my mood! Please don’t offer that to me, that’s practically violating you! And I don’t want to do that!”

If you ever thought she was mad at you, poor girl might cry

“L-Love, I’m not mad at all. I-I promise. Even if I was mad, I don’t think it could be caused by you in all honesty. I love you, okay?”

Soldier baby’s heart go brrr

Sayaka:

Shy or not, Sayaka’s a cute blushy mess around you

She still teases you in a friendly manner, but always makes sure you know she’s only playing

If anyone over bothered you, she’d be incredibly salty

Like, pettiness and all

“Oh, so that’s how you’re gonna be? Well, I’ll have you know that my significant other is NOT gonna do that. You’re a rude person and I hope karma hits you hard.”

If you took a fall in front of her, she’d screech so sound and try to catch you, but would most likely fail

When she saw that you were embarrassed, like Hina she would trip to make you feel better

“See, S/O? It’s fine! Now we both tripped, hehe! Isn’t that funny!”

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for her, she’d hug you immediately and try to make you happy

“Nope! I don’t want that, okay? I want to kiss your cute face! Not rub up on you because you want to make me happy! Now c’mere, so I can kiss your cute face!”

If you ever thought she was mad at you, though, she’d be really sad

“What? No, I’m not mad at all! Let alone at you! I promise, S/O. Even if I was mad, I’d have a peaceful conversation. Not a screaming match about it! Now, give me a hug!”

Sayaka will hug you as much as you please, as long as it makes you happy <3

Toko:

Toko thought you were annoying at first

But then she realized how similar you two were

Not long after, she fell in love with you

Just like in those cheesy novels she writes

If someone ever bothered you, she’d get pretty mad

Lowkey considers letting Syo out

“H-Hey, asshole! T-That’s a r-real d-dick t-thing to say! S-So w-why d-don’t you just g-go back to w-whatever ditch y-you crawled o-out of a-and d-die!”

If Syo was around when someone bothered you, well I think we know how that'll go

They aren't around anymore, especially if they were a pretty boy

If you ever fell in front of her, she’d lowkey get second-hand embarrassment, but would help you up anyways

“Hey, l-look, you’re fine. N-Not a scrape or anything. Y-You’re okay.”

Syo would leap into action immediately and pull you to your feet

"See!? It's like you never even fell! You're okay! No tears, I hate seeing you cry!"

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for her, she’d freak the fuck out

“W-What!? N-No! D-Don’t do t-that! K-Keep your clothes o-on! I-I’m n-not mad! E-Even if I w-was, I w-wouldn’t w-want you to s-strip! Y-You’re t-too p-pretty for t-that!”

If Syo was around, she would as well

"What!? Oh no no no, this just won't do! You're body is far to marvelous to be shown so willingly, y'know that? Don't let others see it so easy! Even if it is just me! Doesn't matter!"

If you thought she was mad at you, she’d scoff at first, but then realize you were being serious

“What? I’m not m-mad at you. W-Why would I b-be mad at y-you? I-I have no reason to b-be. D-Don’t say that, I-I’d tell you if I-I was mad at you...S-Speaking as if I-I c-could g-get mad at y-you.”

Syo would latch onto you and hug you, giving you a little spin

"No, dollface! I'm not angry at all! See? I'm happy! So happy! Especially because my baby-cakes is here! Now, c'mon! Gimme a smooch!"

Even though she’d deny it at first, Toko really does love you

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regina-del-cielo · 4 years ago

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I was thinking about Copley’s Murder Conspirancy Board (mostly to deal with the absolute rage that the scene with Andy Copley and Booker gives me because ‘UGH THESE MEN ARE SO S T U P I D’), and... I may have a Theory about it - which mostly delves into how much Booker and Copley were in actual contact with each other before the events of the movie.

TL;DR: the Murder Conspirancy Board was built with a contribution of Booker’s information, and Copley was Very Confused on the workings of the Guard’s immortality

(the Essay(TM) is under the cut)

This excellent post expounds on how these two Grieving Dumbasses Definitely Did Not Think Their Plan Through, but still what little they did plan was not done in two days. And I would like to think that Booker would have required more than One (1) Persuasive Speech to get him to potentially get his family outed and put in danger for the (tiny) chance of getting a cure for their immortality.

So they’d been in contact for a while, possibly for almost the whole ‘break year’. Copley has lost his wife two years before the movie, so when he and Booker met again he’s one year into mourning. If Andy needed a break from their jobs, I can’t imagine in what mental state Booker must have been.

Copley probably started looking into the Guard because man, that Surabaya mission was a masterpiece, and how come these guys aren’t mercenary superstars? But they’re like ghosts, and the IDs don’t really match their supposed ages... and dealing with his wife’s death made him go into a Nerd Spiral. And then he finds Booker.

So this is how I think it went: they meet again. They talk. Copley is a grieving widower, Booker goes ‘man don’t I relate’. Booker is probably drunk a lot of the time (maybe so is Copley, misery loves company and all that). They enter a positive feedback loop of sharing grief over lost loved ones. Copley probably spills that he knows something, that they’ve done great things and they have a gift obviously. Booker probably answers along the lines of ‘fuck the gift, it sucks. Didn’t save my children when they needed it’. Copley goes ‘well, medicine is much better today. What if you could do it now?’ And the rest is history.

A) Booker ‘helped’ with the Murder Conspirancy Board

We know for a fact that the Conspirancy Board contains information about the Guard ‘from the last 150 years’ which is, approximately, the time photography’s been around. And it makes sense - photos are pretty easily accessible, and Copley knows their faces. He probably scanned them from one of those fake IDs and then used a facial recognition software to find them in historical photographic archives. But we know (and by the end of the movie so does he) that the last 150 years is a nothing in their lifespan. And while going backwards Copley may have found Booker’s original birth and/or marriage records, nothing of the sort would exist for Joe, Nicky and Andy.

Despite how much we joke about the Guard’s faces being Everywhere in museums and art galleries around the world, we can assume that they wouldn’t leave so many traces of them behind. The two known art pieces representing Andy in an obviously recognizable manner, her portrait with Achilles and the Rodin, are in the cave in Val d’Argent. I don’t believe Nicky and Joe wouldn’t have similar storage places, especially for Joe’s own art. Without photographic evidence and before newspapers, trying to pinpoint the three of them across history would be harder than finding a specific needle in a haystack of needles... unless someone tells you where to look.

When Andy enters Copley’s living room, he calls her ‘Andromache the Scythian, the eternal warrior’. But how could Copley have known that Andy’s “real” name was Andromache? It’s not on her IDs, and it’s not the top choice for a full name that has Andy as a nickname. It’s a literary name, of course it would appear through history in poems or plays or novels. And how could he have associated Nicky and Joe precisely to the Crusades with what he knows of them from the last 150 years alone? For all he knew, they could have been as old as the Punic Wars, or as young as the Battle of Lepanto. Assuming he’d actually caught on on them being together together.

Well, I think Booker told him. Maybe just a thing here or there, while Commiserating on How It Sucks being an Immortal, like ‘Andy’s been around for so long she doesn’t even remember her true age, that’s exhausting’ or ‘Joe and Nicky are ridiculous for two people whose first meeting consisted of killing each other during the fucking Crusades’. And Copley fell into another Nerd Spiral that brought him to understand that holy shit these people are much older than I thought what the fuck.

B) Copley is Very Confused on How Immortality Actually Works

Copley talks to Andy by calling her ‘eternal warrior’ and talking of her immortality as if it was some kind of gift that can somehow be transferred from one body to another (debatable, but... ok). But he’s also flabbergasted by her not healing from Booker’s shot, and later with Nile he says ‘but then why would the immortality leave?’, which is... well, it makes it sound like he thinks the immortals are some sort of Chosen Ones.

Which means that Copley knows nothing about Lykon. He had no idea that at some point the Guard will stop healing.

But why would he not know, since I just conjectured that Booker told him enough about immortality for him to pinpoint the origins of the eldest members of the Guard? Why would Booker not have told him such a central detail of their “power”? (Booker obviously knows about Lykon. We see Andy telling Nile, and you can bet that ‘is this thing permanent?’ is probably the third question Booker ever asked when he met the others. He can’t not know)

I think it’s because despite having bonded over their grief, they are approaching this ‘discovering what the fuck is up with immortality’ from two extremely different sides.

Copley wants to know if there is some biological aspect to their immortality that may be ‘transferred’ or ‘activated’ in any random human being. He’s gotten into his head that their regenerative powers can end all diseases. Which. I could probably write another entire separate post on how this is far-fetched at best. Point being, Copley never thought his endeavour as taking the immortality from the Guard to give it to someone else. He thinks Andy and the others are going to live forever and ever.

Booker knows their immortality is not forever and ever, theoretically. He knows that at some point, in the future, he’s going to stop healing and die. But he Wants to Talk to the Manager about it, damn it. He wants his death to be a certainty he can quantify, not something that may happen in another five thousand years based on the data he’s got at his disposal. He wants to have the choice to end it tomorrow or in fifty years - if discovering what causes his immortality saves other people, well that’s an undeniable bonus, but it’s not the focus of his motivation.

Just like Booker and Copley didn’t cover all the potential ways in which Their Plan Could Go Wrong (and honestly, has Booker not learned yet just how fast they revive on average? He tells Nile that ‘big wounds take longer’, and still he revived from the grenade in three/four minutes!), I think they also didn’t Delve into their motivations for seeking that knowledge. Booker probably thought that Copley knowing of their immortality being relative was irrelevant, because of course the doctors will find something (the thing that makes them stop healing), and then he’ll die anyway, so who cares?

And Copley... Copley was probably Convinced that the Guard was a group of superheroes that just needed to be suggested a new investment plan for using their powers, because saving individuals during wars and natural disasters is very noble and good, but come on, it’s inefficient as hell, they can do much better!

(It absolutely sends me that Copley saw the kind of accomplishments reached by the people that the Guard saved, or by their direct descendants, and STILL it didn’t occur to him that there was a pretty decent chance that sometime in the future they would save someone that would find the cure for ALS and/or other shitty diseases! HE’S LITERALLY HINDERING THEM!!!)

#the old guard #my ponderings #james copley #sebastien le livre #my favourite Depressed French Boi #James 'Dumb of Ass' Copley #Copley is an Absolute Imbecile and I will Die on this Hill #I hope this rant makes sense I changed the order of the paragraphs a hundred times I'm sorry #just to be clear Booker didn't Completely Spill the Beans about the family to Copley otherwise the man would know about Quynh too #Copley most likely scraped at any small detail he could glean from their conversations and add it to the Nerd Spiral #Copley is a Nerd that also somehow forgot how to extrapolate results from given data #for the Guard's sake I hope his skills were hindered by his grief and he goes back to Full Operativeness once he gets some Therapy #THEY NEED SO MUCH THERAPY OMG

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

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champagne problems, ch.9

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Nine: illicit affairs: The direct aftermath of Spencer’s confession. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, talk of breakup/s, cheating, very angsty, a tiny tiny bit of fluff, this whole series is a real slow burn

series masterlist

A/N: thank you for the continuous love you are showing to this little story! i can’t put into words how much it means to me, truly!! thank you also to those who expressed whether they would prefer this chapter to be happy or painful, you all really inspired me!! ENJOY!

“P-please say something.” Spencer’s plea was barely a whisper.

Time stood still in that moment. His heart was now in his throat, his hands trembling against your soft skin. He could see the sadness in your eyes, the conflict. Hurting you was exactly the thing he wanted to avoid. And as he silently observed the uncertainty cloud your features, his soul ached.

“I-I.. Spencer, I…”

There was a period of time after your breakup where you imagined something like this happening perhaps a million times. Where you wished he’d tell you all of the things he just did. Like a wild dream. A happy dream where you would say you loved him too. He would wrap his large arms around your frame, and never let go again.

This felt nothing like that. This was more like a nightmare.

His voice was ringing in your ears, the confession replaying on loop. You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what to think. You felt betrayed by the man standing in front of you. Betrayed by the words he said.

Most importantly, you felt betrayed by your own feelings.

“Please leave.” You finally uttered, chin trembling.

The sentence came out croaky, broken even, but Spencer heard you. Pain rushed through him, burning his skin inside out. He twitched his nose in a failed attempt at trying to fight back his own tears.

He was prepared for this outcome, he knew it was a possibility. He knew there was a chance you would distance yourself from him. He knew you might get angry. After all, the kiss you shared two months ago didn't compare to what he just weighed off his chest. Especially if you didn't feel the same way.

In this moment however, as he held your face and looked deep into your eyes, his heart was in agony. He wasn't ready to let you go.

“Please leave.” You repeated a little more determined. Your hands quickly travelled to his in an effort to free yourself from his strong embrace.

“Y/N, don’t do this. W-we can talk this out.” Spencer begged, not wanting to let you slip away. “You’re the most important person in my life Y/N. I need you. I-I know that’s unfair. And I know it was unfair to tell you the truth about how I truly feel now, after all this time. I know that. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please-e don’t tell me to leave, please. I need y-you.”

“W-what, what about what I need?”

By now, the tears streaming down your face were resembling a waterfall. Everything was heavy, especially your heart. Conflicting emotions circling through you causing your head to spin. You felt like you were losing your mind. As if the room was getting smaller, and the walls were closing in.

“What about what I need, Spencer?!” You cried out, sadness slowly dissipating into anger. Your hands moved to his chest. You pushed him backwards, little by little, struggling to break free. “Get out! Get out! Get out.. Get out...” Your voice faded.

The brunette doctor let his arms fall. Completely defeated he took a step back, giving you space to breathe. Hastily, he wiped his tears away before proceeding to run his fingers through his hair.

An agonising silence filled the room. The two of you stared at one another, both afraid to speak up first. Afraid to somehow make this worse. Salty droplets continued to stream down your face as you tried to organise your thoughts, and your conflicting feelings.

There was no denying you loved Spencer too. You realised now more than ever that you always have. But you also loved Ethan, and you couldn't just walk away from a relationship you tried so hard to build. A relationship that to a certain extent helped you get over the very man standing in front of you.

Which is what hurt the most - Spencer’s impeccably terrible timing.

“W-why didn't you say anything sooner?” You sniffled. “I-I waited for you. After we broke up, before I met Ethan, I waited for you. I-I wanted you Spencer, and you never said anything. You never showed any inclination that you wanted me back. Why?”

The one-worded question lingered in the air. Heavy. Shattering.

Spencer sniffled quietly. A broken look was visible on his features; one to match yours. Tears slowly trailing down his jawline.

“B-because... Because....” He stuttered. Mind racing as he tried to collect his thoughts. Truthfully, Spencer didn't have an answer to that question. He didn't have a good enough reason. “I-I was afraid. I was afraid if I said something I would lose you all over again.”

“How much does it hurt knowing you lost me anyway?” It was the wrong thing to say. You regretted it the second it escaped your lips.

Heartbreak is a whole-body response. Similar to a grieving process, there are a number of stages. A number of reactions. It spreads through the nervous system, the respiratory system, and the endocrine system. It spreads until you’re unable to function.

Your words were ringing in Spencer’s ears. He felt nauseous. The room was spinning. Everything he feared was coming true.

Heartbreak doesn't just affect the heart and brain. It’s a lot more complicated than that.

“Y-you don't mean that.” He whispered, taking a hazy step towards you. “I-I know you don't mean that. Please, Y/N...”

The way he said your name made your heart ache even more. You didn’t want to cause him any pain, just like you knew his intentions weren’t malicious either. Yet, the two of you stood across from one another with nothing between you but hurt.

“I love you. And I-I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but please don’t tell me to go. Please don’t shut me out.” Spencer pleaded. His hands found yours, and he held them close to his chest. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you Y/N.” He repeated.

Sniffling, you swallowed your breath. The waterfall ended. Instead, it was replaced by lone wet droplets gradually trailing down your features.

“I love you too.” You expressed in a soft voice before meeting his wandering gaze.

Spencer blinked. His heart fluttered as he registered what you admitted.

“Y-you do?” He didn't think he’d be lucky enough to hear you say those three words again and mean it. Really mean it. Of course he hoped you would. After all, you said them earlier tonight. However, right now it was different. He felt it with every fibre of his being. You loved him back.

“Of course I do! Of course I love you! I always have, and I’m pretty sure I will never stop.” You admitted. The words spilling out of you with such ease you knew it was a sign what you were saying was true. “No-one makes me feel the way you do.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips. “B-but I can’t love you, Spencer. I’m getting married.”

“If Ethan doesn’t make you feel-” He began, but you quickly cut him off.

“You’re the love of my life Spencer. My soulmate. You came into my life at exactly the right time and made it so much richer. You helped me become the person I am today. Our connection is so strong, we can understand each other without a word. We’re combined through heart and mind, and I will never regret the time we spent together. I will never regret loving you.” You revealed. “E-Ethan, however, Ethan is my life partner. He gives me comfort. He’s my right hand. Our bond grows stronger with everyday menial tasks.”

“I could be your life partner Y/N if you just gave me a chance.” Spencer’s hands moved to your cheeks once again, cupping them gently. “You told me you wanted to marry me before, we can do that.”

“Spencer...”

“Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I would do anything to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.”

It was a proposal. A marriage proposal.

Spencer didn't have to specify, you knew that it was. You knew what he meant. He didn't have to get down on one knee with a diamond ring in hand. He didn't have to ask, ‘will you marry me?’. He didn't have to make it intentionally romantic. His words alone were evidence enough. Spencer Reid wanted to marry you.

“I-I, I need some time to think. I-I can’t just drop everything and run away with you. I hope you understand that Spencer.”

The hazel-eyed doctor slowly nodded his head. “Take all the time you need Y/N. I’ll wait. I will always wait for you.”

And with that, his lips found yours.

Despite the complicated situation you both found yourselves in. Despite the difficult position, and the choice you were now facing. He held you as close as it was humanely possible. Nothing mattered. The world slipped away. Your hands moved around his neck. Heartbeats syncing into one.

Both of you revelling in the thought you found each other once again.

And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times

A/N: hope you liked this chapter and as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid story #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #champagne problems series

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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago

Text

in the stars - chapter 4

photo credit - @ssa-emilyhotchner

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon typical criminal minds, stalking, angst. pretty tame chapter

summary - “I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent.

a/n - hi besties. so this chapter is p short compared to the last one, i had like 7k something chapter 4 and it just didnt feel right, BUT that means chapter 5 is basically done i just need to edit it soooooooooooo hopefully wont take a long time lol! enjoy, heart yall forever

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 3 / chapter 5

-----

The rest of the team was left in various levels of shock. Everyone was struggling to process the bomb of information that had just been revealed. With hindsight, it was easy to connect the strange levels of tension and intimacy that radiated between you and Hotch. What was more difficult to swallow, was the new understanding that Hotch had been keeping this secret for nearly five years. Random ‘trips’ that Hotch would take out of state or the subtle sprinkles of wealth showing up in the form of gifts suddenly made sense.

This was completely uncharted territory for the entire team. Given Hotch’s history, it wasn’t too difficult to understand how protective he may be of any relationships post-Haley; but the magnitude of your relationship- both in terms of your status as well as length-, and the withholding of information even on the case was a different form of betrayal that couldn’t be kicked under the rug.

Hotch had always been one of the fiercest advocates for unity, truth and an equal playing field when it came to information concerning a case,- Morgan was still feeling second hand embarrassment for Jordan- for him to be the one to hold back such influential info was difficult to fully wrap their heads around. Anger, of course, was felt and there would certainly be time for that anger- not even getting started on the amount of questions everyone was bound to have-, but as the team was silently processing, they all reached similar conclusions. Hotch was displaying a softness and side of him they hadn’t seen in a very long time and they wouldn’t let their valid frustrations get in the way of solving this case.

Morgan was the first to speak, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I need to text Garcia about this.” He said, shaking the phone a bit. Everyone managed to laugh at that, all certain that Garcia would have the most interesting reaction to the news.

“You know…, the other day when she was giving me a tour of her house, I pointed out a bottle of Dalmore 25 she had on the wall. She got really weird about it and I thought she was trying to play modest, but this, this makes a lot more sense.” JJ remarked lightheartedly.

“So now we know Hotch has some game then, huh?” Morgan quipped, a large grin on his face. When everyone just stared blankly back at him, even more confused than they already were he continued. “Do you all not remember when he ‘magically’ got a bottle of Dalmore 45, those start at twelve grand”

Reid was about to open his mouth and add to the conversation, but just as the words were leaving his mouth Hotch stormed back into the conference room. One hand was tightly balled in a fist while the other was gripping his phone.

“She’s not answering her phone. Three times, it went straight to voicemail.”

“She isn’t on set today, when she left this morning she told me she had work related errands to run.” Emily recounted, racking her brain for any more info about your whereabouts.

Hotch strode over to an open laptop at the edge of the table, quickly hitting a series of buttons until a very flustered Garcia appeared on screen; her mouth dropping open when she saw Hotch.

“Questions later Garcia,” Hotch opened, already anticipating that someone Derek would have informed her of the latest news, “I need you to track Y/N. I want her current and last location.”

“Yes sir! I uh, I will do that right now for you.” Garcia responded, clearly doing her best to hold back the hoard of questions and comments she had. The sound of her vigorously typing filled the room. “Alright sir, so the bad news is that it looks like her phone is currently turned off, but! The last place it pinged at was outside of Chateau Marmont about three hours ago. Which for those of you who don’t know this place is notorious for being the A-lister hideaway-”

“Garcia, do a wide search for her name and location for today’s date. Check to see if there’s been any media sightings on her whereabouts.” Hotch ordered. He hadn’t forgotten how uneasy it had made him once he found out how easy it was to locate you. Paparazzi were a different form of ruthless and he’d never realized how difficult it actually was for people in the spotlight until he met you.

“Let me see…, yes sir you are right! I’m getting a bunch of hits of her entering the-” Garcia’s sentence falling off with an ‘oh’.

“Garcia, what’d you find?”

A headline popped up on the screen.

“Emma Co-Stars Pictured Together Out At Lunch: Has The Love Moved Past The Screen?”

Underneath, multiple photos of you quickly loaded. There you were, cheerily standing next to your co-star, looking up at him with a big grin on your face. The photos showed the two of you in different positions as you made your way inside. A few of him as he opened the car door for you. One of you with your arm wrapped loosely around his while you walked up the door. One of you ducking under his arm as you entered the restaurant.

The tension in the room was palpable as everyone did their own mini attempt at profiling the photo. It was difficult, you’d clearly proven to be a great actress and they knew you were capable of manipulating your outward emotions. It was even more difficult considering it was just a handful of mediocre quality photos.

Hotch was tightly gripping the edge of the table, forcing himself to keep a level head. He knew it was unreasonable to get angry over the idea of you with another man, but it didn’t help the pang in his heart as he recognized the genuine signs of happiness you were emitting.

“JJ,” Hotch said, voice dangerously calm, “call the restaurant and have them discreetly tell Y/N that ‘Andi’ is calling her.” Discretion was the highest priority for him, the envelope being even further confirmation that the unsub was closely trailing you. The last thing he wanted to do was either trigger a violent reaction or cause him to go underground.

Back when the two of you had been together, out of an abundance of caution, you used to refer to Aaron as ‘Andi’ in public. You hated not being able to thank him in speeches or mention him in any capacity, so this had been your best way around it.

“Yes sir.” JJ responded, quickly moving out of the room to make the phone call.

“Garcia, do you have any leads on the kid that dropped off the envelope?” Hotch asked.

“No sir. The car he left in was reported stolen a few days ago with no leads as to where it went. Camera feeds loose the car about three blocks away and his face was too obstructed to get any hits that way.”

“Alright, once JJ comes back with confirmation Y/N’s gotten the message, I’m going to pick her up. I want the rest of you to work with Garcia and categorize these photos. Cross reference whatever you can to get a timeline.” Hotch ordered, the rest of the team not being to be told twice.

-----

“Where the hell are you?” Aaron demanded.

Even through the phone, you could tell he was absolutely seething. It was bad, by the time you had picked up the phone you’d amassed a total of twenty texts and nearly ten missed calls from Aaron; not even mentioning the individual missed calls you had from each member of the team. It was bad, but in your defense it had been less than an hour from the first missed call to your current response.

What could you say? You were big on not being on your phone when you were spending time with friends.

“What do you mean, where the hell am I,” you answered, rolling your eyes as you leaned up against one of the private bathroom countertops. “How did you describe it before Agent? I’m very in ‘demand’.”

You could hear him groan through the phone and wondered if he was running his hands over his face; something he used to always do when you were being difficult; he absolutely was.

“Y/N-”

“I’m on a date.” You responded flatly. The other end of the line went silent. As you were debating whether or not you should add the part about it being a publicity date, Aaron’s voice came through.

“End it. I’m picking you up. The drive there from the station shouldn’t be more than 30 minutes.” Aaron said, his voice dangerously even.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting back to the station on my own Agent. I don’t need you stirring up an absolute scene-”

“Y/N,” he started, voice commanding in a way that told you he was serious, “a package was delivered to the station today. Filled with hundreds of photos of you over the years,” he paused again and you could hear him take a deep breath before continuing, “there’s photos of us in there. The unsub knows.”

You went silent, mouth opening over and over, unable to find anything to say. You had always envisioned a world where you and Aaron were some sort of ‘public’ knowledge, but never like this, obviously never like this.

“Y/N, I need to come get you,” Hotch said, his voice much softer now, “I can’t-, I need to see that you’re safe.”

“I’ll make something up,” You said quickly, before adding, “there’s a private valet area, I’ll send you the instructions to get past the gates and I’ll let the security know you’re coming to pick me up.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, don’t draw any attention to yourself.” And with that he hung up, leaving you stunned in the bathroom. You gripped the edges of the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror. You wished you could stay in the bathroom for hours, desperately needing some time to privately process what Aaron had told you.

That wasn’t in the cards for you though, so you quickly did some pointless attempts at ‘straightening’ your appearance- more for your benefit than anything else- before you turned the lock and left back for your table

You slipped back into your seat across from your friend and co-star Johnny.

“Your friend alright?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a small smile, “she’s fine. But my Agent called me when I was in there, she apparently managed to set up some last minute FBI consult to help me prep for an audition I have coming up. According to her, she ‘pulled a lot of strings for this’.” You said, rolling your eyes. The lie sliding out of your mouth with ease. “Whoever this FBI dude is, is supposed to come pick me up right about,” you looked down at your phone, “now apparently. So I guess our little date has to end early.” You said, giving him an exaggerated sad pout.

Johnny rolled his eyes at that, giving you a small laugh. The two of you were both equally uninterested, romantically, in each other. But you did get along quite well, so being ‘forced’ into hanging out with each other outside of filming wasn’t bad; you’d probably hang out outside of filming anyway

“No worries, we still on for running lines later tonight?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, before nodding. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, help me flag down the waiter, I want to get one last drink in before I go.”

-----

About twenty minutes later you found yourself waiting out in the private courtyard of the restaurant. You were doing your best to calm your nerves, this being the first opportunity you had to try and process what Aaron had told you. You should’ve seen it coming, if the stalker was so obsessed with you, he must’ve noticed Aaron in your life at some point. But you had been so careful.

Then the other obvious thing hit you. His team knew. You were wondering how the team had taken the news when you saw the black SUV come into view. Aaron quickly stopped the car in front of you and before you could move to open the passenger door yourself, he was out of his seat in a flash, coming over to where you were standing.

For a moment you were both silent. You felt tiny under his unrelenting gaze, his eyes scanning your entire being as he ensured himself you were okay.

Without thinking, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, ensnaring his arms tight to his side. As soon you realized what you did, you were internally kicking yourself, moving to loosen your arms nearly as fast as you had put them there.

“Aaron I-”

Before you could finish your attempted apology, Aaron had pulled his arms from under yours and repositioned them around you, pulling you tightly against him. Your head naturally fit perfectly under his and you took in a deep breath, letting his scent surround you. It was cliche, but you both were thinking about how perfectly your bodies melded against each other.

You felt his hand rest gently on the back of your head, gently stroking down your hair in a steady rhythm. “I got you.” He whispered, so quiet you nearly didn’t hear it.

You pulled your head back so you could look up at him. “I’m scared.” You said, admitting it aloud for the first time.

Aaron was staring hard down at you, his face soft. “I know,” he started, moving a piece of hair away from your face, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?”

You nodded at that, missing his warmth when he started to pull away from you. He kept a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the passenger seat. He opened the door and helped you in, gently shutting the door behind you. As soon as your door was shut he wasted no time in getting in the driver's seat, starting the car up again. With a quick check to make sure your seatbelt clicked was in, Aaron peeled out of the parking lot.

A few floors above the courtyard, in one of the private hotel rooms, a curtain was angrily thrown shut.

-----

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @averyhotchner @kimmy-k-k @uwu-sebastianstan

a/n- if youve asked to be on the taglist and dont see urself, please send another message! im really bad about putting people on my tag document lol, even if ive like responded in tumblr!!

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner/you #aaron hotchner/reader #self insert fic #'stori talks #in the stars #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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ricksbowen · 5 years ago

Text

one more time | pt. 1

IN WHICH: y/n realizes she had a one night stand with the one person she didn’t expect.

INSPIRATION: feel good inc. — gorillaz, babylon — 5 seconds of summer

WARNING: this whole series is gonna be pretty sexual. i’m making ricky and everyone in the crew a year up, so everyone’s in their senior year and 18+. there’s also implications of sex so read with caution. there’s also underage drinking

A/N: since simply utterly is coming to an end, i’m posting a friends with benefits au cause everyone who reads my stuff probably noticed how much i love clichés

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

You had been best friends with Ricky Bowen since the 3rd grade.

It was unconventional, the way you both met each other. Ricky had accidentally tossed a football right into your eye, and to make it up to you, he let you give him one back by punching him in the eye. You both had to see the principal that day, with your matching black eyes as the principal threatened to call your parents.

Since then, you had been inseparable. You stuck with Ricky through thick and thin; from when his parents started having problems to when Nini Salazar-Roberts broke up with him right before junior year, you were there. You were there to read lines out for High School Musical: the Musical with him. You were always there, with your window wide open and the rope ladder already hanging out for him to climb up to your room.

In the same way, he was there for you. From when the boy you had a crush on for years rejected you to when you got asked out on your first date and needed outfit advice, he was there. When your boyfriend broke up with you in the middle of junior year, he was there with movies and blankets. He had pictures of you hung up in his room, his favorite being the one from third grade. You, with the glasses that were a side too big for your face and him, with his two front teeth missing, smiling at the camera with matching black eyes.

You both knew each other’s secrets. The fears of love you both attained in your lives, the overwhelming dislike of growing up— you looked to each other for a way to escape.

Your friendship has always been that way: strong, unbreakable.

You rubbed your eyes groggily, forcing yourself up off the bed. Immediately, you noticed the lack of clothes you had and the body next to yours. Letting out a small groan, you cursed yourself for yet another guy you had to let down with a note.

That fear of love always stayed.

You shut your eyes, rubbing your temples to try and remember what had happened last night.

Ej’s college acception party. Winning beer pong with Ricky against Seb and Carlos. Drinking an alarming amount of alcohol and skinny dipping in the pool. Kissing someone hard while you pushed them up against the door.

What a party.

You stood up, making sure whoever was next to you in bed was fast asleep. His head was hidden under the blankets, and soft snores escaped his huddled form. You let out a small sigh, reaching down for the haphazardly thrown clothes around the room.

You passed an absurdly patterned red blue and white shirt as you reached for your bra, eyes lingering on the item of clothing for just a second too long.

You’ve seen that shirt before.

You shook your head to rid of your thought, ignoring the striking pain that followed from your hangover. You trudged around the room, picking up the dress you wore that night. You then found your underwear, and as you walked closer to it to reach it, your eyes landed on another piece of clothing.

A white inside shirt. To anyone else, that would’ve meant nothing. But to you, it meant something that made your heart drop.

“What are you wearing?” you laughed out the minute Ricky opened his door.

“I think it’s pretty snazzy for a college acceptance party,” Ricky grinned, giving you a twirl and letting oddly patterned shirt lift up as he did. He wore an oddly patterned button-up that was unbuttoned with a white tank top underneath and black pants.

You could hear Big Red snort next to you, and you rolled your eyes with a grin, crossing your arms over your chest.

“C’mon, lover boy, Ej’s been spamming me with texts since we’re five minutes late.”

Ricky walked up to the both of you, slinging his arms over both of your shoulders lazily. “Are we planning on getting shitfaced while we’re there?”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Big Red grinned, and you all cheered in response as you made your way to your car.

“Y/N?”

You whipped around, letting out a scream and immediately covering yourself up. Ricky slapped a hand over his eyes, yelling ‘Oh my God!’ over and over while you covered yourself with the clothes you had in your hands.

“What the fuck, Ricky?” you yelled, Ricky shaking his head rapidly and pointing blindly towards you with his free hand.

“Don’t you ‘what the fuck me!’” he fired back, his voice two octaves higher. “I don’t know what happened either!”

“You— We—“ you groaned, slipping on your underwear and looking between your underwear and Ricky’s patterned shirt. You put your bra on and slipped his shirt over your shoulders, blaming your choice on the fact that your dress would’ve taken more time.

“We fucked!” Ricky sputtered, removing his eyes and looking at you. His face bloomed red at the sight of you in nothing but his shirt and undergarments, but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

“Shut up!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at the room you both were in.

This wasn’t your house or Ricky’s.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair and making your way to the door. You opened it slowly, peeking out in the hall while Ricky climbed out of bed and pulled his boxers and pants on. The smell of breakfast wafted down the hall, and you cursed under your breath as you shut the door slowly. “We never left Ej’s house.”

“Are we just ignoring the fact that we most likely had sex?” Ricky asked, head pounding with confusion as he walked over to you.

“We’re just gonna skip over that part,” you stated, glaring at him. You leaned back against the closed door, closing your eyes and trying to let the memories come back to you.

“Holy shit!”

You cheered as you made the last cup in, Seb and Carlos groaning in defeat and the crowd of people you barely knew yelling in victory around you. You pulled Ricky into a hug, his arms around your waist as he lifted you up and spun you around drunkenly.

“We are gods!” Ricky hollered, making you laugh as your arms went around his neck. His eyes lingered on you for just a second too long before he put you back down, swaying slightly as he did.

You looked at him, an unspoken agreement between both of you as the sounds of the party became white noise. Your hand reached for his, intertwining with his fingers as you pulled him away from everyone else.

You led him down the hall, ignoring the other people talking and making out as you opened a random door and pulled him inside with a laugh.

You shut the door and pressed him up against it, his hands reached down to your cheeks and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was fast, needy, and you found yourself wanting more as you tugged his button-up shirt off and he started undoing your dress.

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” you stated, opening your eyes to look at him. He was biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed as he nodded in instant agreement.

“You’re right. Besides, it meant nothing, right?” Ricky asked as if he was reassuring himself more than you.

You nodded your head rapidly, letting out a breath. “You’re right! It was just..”

“Sex,” Ricky finished, and you sighed, buttoning the middle button on his shirt as a way to cover yourself up just a bit more.

You opened the door, peeking your head out and stepping out of the room. You heard voices from the kitchen, and your heartbeat sped up when you realized you had to explain your situation to the people there. Your fingers started nervously tapping on the door, the habit immediately catching Ricky’s eye.

“Chill out— you’re tapping your fingers again,” Ricky murmured behind you, and you sent him a look before you started walking down the hall to the kitchen.

“Ah, look who’s awake!” Big Red grinned teasingly, leaning against the countertop as he ate his pancakes. Carlos was seated on the counter, his smile almost as big as Big Red’s as he ate his own pile of pancakes. There were two other plates on the countertop, ready for you and Ricky.

“Don’t,” you grumbled, sitting next to Carlos and cutting a piece of the pancake you had.

“Where’s Ej? And why are you two still here?” Ricky asked, trying to ignore Big Red’s eyes on him as he started eating his pancakes nonchalantly.

“Work or something. Honestly, I have no idea— he just had to leave in a hurry,” Big Red explained with a growing smile. “We both passed out from last night so we just slept on the couches.”

“Seb was here too. He had to leave since his mom called,” Carlos added. “Ej and Seb don’t know that you two fucked, so you’re in the clear,” Carlos spoke indifferently, as if he was talking about the weather.

“Carlos—“ you glared, making him shrug nonchalantly and shove another piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Now, don’t ignore our questions because we do deserve an explanation,” Carlos stated, pointing his fork between you and Ricky. You were staying on opposite sides of the kitchen, Ricky with Big Red and You with Carlos.

“We may have been passed out drunk last night, but you two were loud enough that we heard,” Big Red snickered, grabbing his glass of orange juice as he started making sounds that sounded similar to a bed creaking. Ricky slapped the side of his bicep, making Big Red snigger again.

“I wish we know how it happened,” you said with a slight frown.

“So, you aren’t even together?” Big Red asked.

“Nope,” Ricky replied, popping the ‘p’ as he finished his pancakes.

“That’s some cliche shit right there,” Carlos commented, making you roll your eyes. “What? I’m just saying you,” he pointed his fork to Ricky, “and you,” he pointed his fork to you, “have been best friends for how long now? And you had sex on a drunken night?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Talk about a WattPad fanfic coming to life.”

“How do you even know about what that WattPad stuff?” Big Red asked with a raised brow, Carlos hiding his smile behind his glass of water.

“Harry Styles is a beaut,” Carlos stated, making you chuckle while Big Red shook his head. “But back to the point. What’re you two gonna do now?”

Ricky shrugged, looking down at the mess of syrup on his plate as he thought. “It was just one time. It won’t happen again.”

“Yep,” you added. “We promised that it was just meaningless sex.”

“Mhm,” Carlos hummed, sharing a look with Big Red as he listened. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

—

Ricky grabbed your thighs, wrapping it around his waist as he kissed down your neck. He pressed you up against the wall, his lips descending down your neck and leaving marks in its wake.

You let out a breathy moan, feeling him nip playfully before he pulled your shirt off and threw it somewhere in his room.

It was supposed to be a study date. You were paired up on a project, and you both only lasted an hour before you got to where you were now; making out and stripping each other against the wall.

You tugged his hair roughly, the low groan he let out hitting you in more ways that one as you pulled his shirt off and throw it behind him. You pulled him back to your lips with need, lips locking with urgency as everything went into overdrive.

“You gotta be quiet, hun,” he breathed against your neck, trying to pull his pants down while you nodded frantically. You threw your head back against the door, letting out a whimper when you felt him grind against you hard. He moaned into your neck, breath hot against your skin while you managed a smirk.

“You too, lover boy,” you groaned when you felt him buck up against you, hands gripping him as if your life depended on it. “We — shit — promised it wouldn’t happen again,” you managed between moans, feeling him move. Each thrust sent up up the wall and back down, and your legs wrapped harder around him.

“I know, but,” he bit his lip, trying to keep in the sounds that threatened to come out “Just one more time,” Ricky murmured breathlessly, kissing under your ear while you nodded.

“Yeah. One more time.”

—

TAGS: @tomshufflepuff, @myrandom-fandomlife, @softpeteparker, @sarcarstic-space-weirdo

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen headcannons #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen smut #ricky bowen hcs #ricky bowen #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen imagines #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett hcs #joshua bassett angst #joshua bassett imagines #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett #big red #carlos rodriguez #hsmtmts #high school musical: the musical: the series #ej caswell

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tessiete · 4 years ago

Note

16 (“If you want, we could go together?”) or 46 (“Shut up, I am a delight!”) for Obi-Wan & Padme, but no pressure whatsoever <3 <3 <3

Pressure! Pressure! Pressure! Lots of pressure. You know how my vanity requires that everything I write be capital P Profound.

This was a lot of fun to write - I forgot how much I love Padme. Now I’m contriving how to have her and Satine in the same fic and see how different they are.

In the meantime, here’s 2k of Padme just staring at Obi-Wan. Hope you’re at work @tree-scapes

AND NEVER DO HARM TO THE WORLD

She asks him before she’s certain of the wisdom in it, herself, and he looks at her as if he’s only certain of its absence.

“If you want,” she says, “We could go together?”

The hitch in his step makes her wince as they reach the top of the Temple steps. She’s trapped him now, she knows, and feels guilty, but there’s no way for her to withdraw without causing further injury to both their dignities.

“I only suggest it since I know it’s a burden to - to me,” she explains. “And my usual escort is indisposed.”

He smiles. It’s a stiff and awkward line, as though drawn across his face by the unpracticed hand of a child, but he bows, and acquiesces with grace.

“Of course, Senator,” he says. She’s senator again, though moments before with Masters Windu and Koon she’d been Padme, so she knows it’s not the company.

“If it’s no inconvenience. I wouldn’t want to impose on your schedule, if you’d only meant to go for a short -”

“It’s no inconvenience at all,” he insists. His smile is kinder now, his awkwardness eased by the desire to alleviate her own obvious discomfort. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Good. Then I will know to expect you,” she says. With one more shallow bow, and the press of his fingers to hers, she hurries away, anxious to escape the louring gaze of the Temple guardians, and Obi-Wan’s curious stare.

She expects that he will show up, as promised.

She expects he will be, in all ways, gracious and prepared.

She expects stilted conversation, and wonders how often her tongue will stray to speak of Anakin, hoping the wine and frizz won’t alleviate one problem only to create another.

She expects she will spend the evening regretting her impulsive invitation, and making him regret it, if he doesn’t already.

What she does not expect is to be met at her door by a man she hardly recognises.

She has known Obi-Wan Kenobi since she was a girl, and he, hardly more than a boy, though in her eyes even then he’d been a man well beyond the reach of her childish ambition. Met again, he’d seemed...not ancient - one could hardly call him that - but aged, perhaps. Somber. Solemn to the point of serenity. He had an authority of a kind she’d only seen in grandmothers and wild prey, a sort of amused resignation to the motions of life, and an understanding gained through loss and sorrow. Whatever it was, it was something very distant from her, as if he’d grown out while she’d been busy growing up.

But the man that stands before her now is young, and sparkling. And nervous. It is a side of him she’s not seen before, and it has her counting the distance of years in her head. Is it ten? Less than? Surely not more. Are they truly peers?

He wears a skirt of muted blue, with three deep pleats pressed the full length on his right side. The creams of his traditional tabards are replaced with a stiff white tunic, and a thigh-length jacket with wide sleeves that drapes soft as the sky over his shoulders and down his back. It is a curious mix of imposed structure and natural elegance.

“Jedi formalwear,” he explains beneath her curious inspection. His fingers twist at the inside of a sleeve where the fabric hangs just long enough to hide his hand. He extends his opposite arm to offer her proper support. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she agrees, and instead of the more sophisticated and out-dated practice of simply laying her hand atop his, she tucks her arm beneath, and steps close until their arms are pressed between them, more like comrades than indifferent chaperones.

They stay that way until they reach the Feano Lyceum, Obi-Wan’s arm against hers. She is presented first, and his name follows. She thinks he may pull away here, in public, but his hold remains neither loose enough to encourage release, nor tight enough to prove her suspicions about his disquiet correct.

A few ambassadors and fellow diplomats nod in greeting at their arrival, but they are not questioned about their connection. This, Padme realises with some relief, and then worries that the Jedi may sense some of that and go looking for its source. She isn’t certain, yet, what lies within the power of the Force to provide. Anakin seems as attuned to her moods as she is at times, and then so oblivious at others that she thinks they must be total strangers. It would be unfortunate if Obi-Wan were to tend towards the former. If he knew about whom she thought of so often and so well...

It’s been six months since she’d wed her knight, and she’d heard lots about Obi-Wan second-hand, but only as a father, or an overly strict mentor. He is neither of these things tonight. And he is neither of these things to her. So what is Obi-Wan Kenobi?

A Jedi, certainly. Wise. Accomplished. Just. Driven. Demanding. These were all revealed to her by Anakin, and proved to her by history. But he’d said more she was less convinced of.

Stern? Perhaps, though she might instead say serious.

Aloof? Not that. Not judging by the way he leans into her at the approach of the senator from Alk’Lellish III who courts him with a lascivious flick of her tongue, and lingering prehensile limbs.

Cold? Not by the way he nudges her to draw her attention to the buffet table where two politicians abandon a vehement argument to fall into an enthusiastic embrace, stifling a smirk.

Pretentious? Not in how he coaxes her to try some sort of elegantly twisted hors d’oeuvres only to break out into genuine laughter as he watches the spice hit her tongue.

“You knew,” she accuses, trying in vain to wipe at her mouth with a synthcloth napkin in an elegant fashion.

“I might have,” he acknowledges, before mercifully passing over a cocktail from the bar. “It’s a White Knight. Made with nerf-milk. It’ll soothe the sting.”

She throws the drink back with the steel of a seasoned professional, and Obi-Wan’s brow rises in surprise.

“I’ve been in politics a long time,” she says, a warning in her tone.

“Ah,” he says, signalling for two more. “So have I.”

His own drink disappears as quickly as her first, and he calls for a flute of frizz while she sips at the Knight.

“I was under the impression you’d be above all this,” she says. “You know - as a Master of the Order.”

“I had similar delusions,” he agrees, taking a long draught of his drink. “However, it turns out there’s rather more politicking in times of war than of peace.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it seems that now we are required to be paraded about as the face of the Republic at these things as often as possible. To show we are here. To demonstrate our investment. To prove that the Chancellor is doing something about the Separatist threat.”

He finishes that drink, and reaches for another passing by on a tray. Padme’s smile turns to a frown as she watches that one disappear nearly as rapidly.

“You sound as though you don’t approve,” she says.

Obi-Wan tenses beside her, and turns away to set his empty glass aside. She cannot see his face, so must read what she can in the rigid line of his back as he says, “I lost many friends on Geonosis.”

“I’m sorry.”

When he turns back he is smiling softly once more, and she can’t tell if it is the Knight or some otherworldly radiance of his own that makes him blur at the edges, disguising his hurt, and transforming his disgust into dust, swept away by the fine skirts, and elevated company.

“Don’t be,” he says, deliberately applying her apology to a far less serious wound. “That’s why I came tonight with you. I had hoped you might ease my way, and perform all necessary flattery for me.”

“Oh, I hardly think you need my help in that,” she says, rolling her eyes, content to follow him to safer ground. “Maybe only to keep your admirers at bay.”

A short, sharp exhalation of air, and he falls silent, looking away.

“Why, Master Kenobi,” she cries, entranced and in utter delight, “Are you blushing?”

“That would be rather undignified for someone of my rank,” he denies. “It’s only a flush from the heat of the room.”

“You are blushing!”

“I am not,” he says. “It’s the ventilation that’s lacking.”

She waits. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, until she catches his gaze and holds it. His lips twitch. She can see his facade begin to splinter. It only pushes her to a higher mirth, and she laughs outright as it gives way entirely, leaving them both breathless and gasping.

Their joy catches the interest of several nearby dignitaries, one of whom is the Lellish ambassador with the wandering appendages, and before Obi-Wan can revert back to the blandly pleasant stoic he plays at, she takes him by the hand and leads him to the floor.

“Dance with me,” she says.

His smile remains, though his head tilts in confusion.

“This doesn’t seem a particularly effective way to solicit political support,” he suggests.

“No,” she says. “Not at all. But then I don’t find myself particularly interested in politics tonight, do you, Master Kenobi?”

“Obi-Wan,” he corrects, eyes shining.

“I thought not,” she says, and a smirk winds its way across her lips like the arched spine of a smug felinx.

They dance one set, and then the next, twirling away in a flourish of colour and light the moment anyone steps too near, or looks too close, and for a time they cannot be touched, and when they are spent, they fall laughing, out of line, upon each other.

“Anakin won’t believe this!” she says, her voice still rising with the excitement of the music. She doesn’t realise what she’s said until Obi-Wan’s eyes turn cloudy, and a wedge forms between his brows as he looks on her with a strange regard. “Next time I see him,” she amends. “I’ll tell him your secret.”

The Jedi coughs to clear some stray thought from his throat before it can be said aloud, and looks out over the room.

“Yes, I - I’m sure he’ll be amused,” he agrees. “Though we have attended many functions such as this before. Growing up. On a variety of worlds. It can be of little surprise to him - it seems that such civilized negotiations are common everywhere.”

Padme settles her skirts, and treads cautiously. “I suppose that’s true,” she allows.

“Though I imagine he little suspects that I am capable of such delight.”

“He has never said that,” she says, unwilling to slander Anakin even in her denial of him.

“But evidently, he thinks it,” Obi-Wan says, then sighs, gathering himself again. “Forgive me,” he says. “I find myself more and more uncertain what Anakin thinks, and feels. He doesn’t come to me as - Forgive me. You’re much too young, but I suppose one day, when you have your own younglings eaten up by adulthood you’ll feel it, too.”

“You’re not so old as all that, Obi-Wan,” she chides. “Hardly older than me, and not much older than Anakin. Certainly not old enough to be his father.”

“I was his master,” he corrects. “And now that he is knighted, I’m not certain what I am, anymore. He is changing faster than I am.”

She watches him as he watches the room spin, whirling by him in a wild array of colour and form that he cannot possibly follow - or if he can, then he is even more distant, even more removed from her ability to reckon. He is different. He is set apart, even from Anakin, and she suddenly wonders if that is because of the Force, or because of himself. Is it he who feels removed? He who feels shut out? He who feels divested of his place in the world, defined only by the title others call him and lacking the distinction of earnest comprehension? It isn’t enough, she thinks, to see in him what Anakin sees, or what she might expect. She needs to see him for himself, and appreciate him for that.

“His brother then,” she concludes, and she takes his hand. “And my friend, whatever else besides, no matter what he thinks.”

“If you say so,” he says, and she can feel him yield beneath the pressure of her hand, and the firmness of her conviction.

“I absolutely do. Let’s not think of him. Let’s be whatever we are right now. Let’s be delighted and delightful together, and have just one more dance.”

#Padme #Anidala #Obi-Wan Kenobi #my fic #prompt fill #sw #star wars #fanfic

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famouskittychild · 3 years ago

Text

Cheeky Mandos - ...and we're off

(Sorry I had a terrible writer’s block in the past 6-ish weeks - I went from reading fanfiction and being inspired by other’s visions to “I’ll never be able to write anything like these and I’m useless” in a single day :( I’m getting back into the groove finally, so I’m hoping to post more soon.)

There will be 18+ content (in the coming chapters soon) so if you are a minor, please don't read further.

Also the characters will be quite open and relaxed about things like gender, attraction, sexual activities, relationships etc, so if you prefer your Din (and their partner) possessive and/or monogamous , this won’t be a good read for you!

***

This pairing is Din Djarin x gn reader / tall reader. I’m short (and cis and woman). There’s so many short (and female) reader stuff out there, I wanted to write for people on the other end of the “why is your height not normal” / "definitely female" spectrum. If I make mistakes or you have advice, or ideas you'd like to see, please tell me!

Word count: 4267

Summary: You’re an armourer and some shiny guy just showed up.

First full piece/chapter/course! In which people seem to catch things. Thoughts? Viruses? Dropped facts? Who knows!?? Also contains a dilettante’s attempt at space electronics and some barely-canon-reminiscent Mando world-building. Still no spiciness sorry, marinating is a long process :P

Rating: T for some mentions of heavier topics.

CW: Mentions of mandalorian history, playing somewhat loose with canon lore (as in, my SW knowledge is patchy. sorry.)

Author’s note: I tried to find more info but it seems like the mandalorian alphabet doesn’t have names for the individual letters so I used aurebesh (also I liked the little Dorn(e) meta in there). And sorry for the bad puns. They’ll keep coming.

Prologue

One - ...and we're off

***

You aren’t worried about taking a stranger on board, you’ve done that plenty of times before. You hope he’s willing to put in the effort himself, too, just as he promised at the assembly.

The stranger leaves behind his ship, saying a friend will come to pick it up together with whoever might want to join the cause. You spot him from the cockpit as he walks over with a repulsor pallet in tow. He stops for a moment when your droids surge past him, busy at their pre-flight tasks, before moving on towards the ramp.

All his baggage is a satchel at his hip and a small bag on his shoulder, and two large crates of weaponry. You put him up in the spare cabin, the one that had been Sal’ee’s, your former apprentice, before she went on to be a journeyman. He stands in the middle of the room, staring at the two cots on opposite sides of the room, the lockers, the fresher in the corner.

“All mine? Where will you sleep?”

You don’t understand the surprise in his voice.

“Over there” you show him, pointing at the cabin opposite from his. It’s much more lived in, some of the blankets and trinkets and pillows visible through it’s open door. “There’s a third cabin that I mostly use for storage but has more fold-up bunks in case I need to transport more people. That’s rare though.”

“Ohh.” He nods, then turns to look around his room again. “Okay. I thought all of these rooms were cargo space.”

You smile, and quickly think through your to-do list. You’ll have to rearrange your schedule somewhat but it’s not that big of a bother.

“Come on, I’ll show you around the ship.” Before he gets lost in its cavernous interiors, you might add - but you don’t. If his reaction to a separate cabin and his current ship - an old ARC170 - is any indication, he must be used to very cramped quarters.

***

Your trusty Brick, a beat-up YV 929, is armed to the teeth and ugly, just as you like it. The ship is a scavenged one, gutted from most of its original factory issue armaments, engines, and even wiring. It was perfect for your former master when she found it at a scrap heap: she wanted to rebuild it herself, deliberately piecemeal; panels sourced form here, engines from there, concealments added. She modified the inner workings of the engines so that the power lines could be redirected to a concealed forge.

That forge is your pride and the main reason you haven’t settled at a permanent place yourself. When your master retired from travelling, the ship passed to you, and you continued her mission of offering your knowledge and expertise to those of your people who otherwise had no access to an armourer.

…

The next standard month is spent with adjusting, both for yourself after getting used travelling alone again since Sal’ee left, and for the stranger who found himself a passenger on someone else’s ship. Apparently he used to live a very similar life to yours, with the exception that he was a hunter not a craftsman.

You travel together, share meals, research the places you are directed to. He joins in the effort that is maintaining the ship. Still - he is very taciturn at the beginning, keeping his words to the bare minimum. The first few days it feels as if you are still on your own aside of your droids. By the middle of the month, he progresses from short answers, through sharing information, to willingly starting to tell stories; but you know that chatting will never be his defining feature.

His armour seems to fill the spaces of the Brick’s corridors. You feel as if it’s not him who has the presence, but that set of glinting, perfectly made handwork of an armourer you already admire. Some of the pieces were sourced elsewhere, you can tell by the different shapes and designs; they seem haphazard and mismatched compared to the rest. Most of the set is the work of a single person. On those, there’s not a single uneven line, a broken curve, an edge at the wrong place. The angle of the panes of the metal, the ridges, the simplicity and elegance of them all - you have to hold yourself back from touching them, to admire them. You would give a lot to hold those pieces in your hand, to study them, to analyse them with your eyes and hands and with your tools.

You’re a master, yes. But so much knowledge was lost. So many masters gone, with their knowledge and their workshops. Apprentices became heads of Forges in the absence of the more skilled. The survivors still to this day have to piece together half-remembered lessons and forgotten details, experiment with techniques that were known before but the methods got lost as decades of civil war and occupation and murder kept eroding your heritage.

Sometimes a set of armour comes along that is just made in a way you never had an opportunity to learn. Often the person who forged them is long gone. Not the stranger’s armourer though. As far you can tell, she’s alive. Or at least was, when he last saw her. Not too long ago; though your usual method for guessing forging dates is mostly useless as it is based on the condition of the suit’s paintwork. Which he doesn’t have, so you can only guess from the small amount of scratches. You try to ask once, but whilst he’s forthcoming with general stories, he doesn’t go into details.

It’s a common theme with him. He talks about people and planets and events, and leaves out a lot - and you don’t even notice it first. Only when you try to glean information about his armour do you realize how well he fuzzes over those facts and nuances. It’s only up to the peculiarities of Basic and its use of gendered pronouns that you know his Armourer is a woman, or at least he considers them so. He doesn’t even tells you his own name, and when you ask your Elder in one of your communications, she tells you he didn’t gave it to them either. You keep introducing him as a friend, and that is the end of it for a while.

***

The visits to this first few coverts with him are… interesting. You can see him fidgeting from the corner of your eye. He always follows half a step behind and off to a side, as if not wanting to be in your way. He keeps quiet and doesn’t mix much, and around small children and droids, he is positively withdrawn. He only comes alive when he talks about his mission.

You had learned early on during your apprenticeship that keeping the helmet on is a safe bet when meeting with unfamiliar mandalorians. That led to later getting in contact with his type of believers too, despite their notorious secrecy even from the rest of the People. When you tell the stranger about that, he immediately showers you with questions, but you can’t give an answer to most of them. You never met with anyone from his particular covert, or heard of it. No name, no description seems familiar. It’s painful to watch his shoulders slump after daring to hope.

During the course of the month spent travelling, he gradually comes to be more social. He starts to stand and walk beside you. He doesn’t withdraw to the background anymore; he can actually be quite chatty if approached the right way. Droids still make him stop, though he warms up to kids in his own way. He’s good with them, at least in your opinion, though you know some would still call him aloof and distant. He isn’t a cuddler, nor does he crouch down to ask cutesy questions. He juts sits nearby them, and in that way of children having a good sense about adults, they know he’s trustworthy. They go up to him to chatter, to hand him a toy to hold, to ask him to fix a latch on their boots; than they go back to play.

He teaches you too, inadvertently at first during everyday conversations and later by his own volition, about his Way. About his Creed. It keeps throwing you off how much it differs from most that you had met before. Not even meeting briefly with people who followed the same Way as him could prepare you for the details that he does share. The degree of strictness, the loyalty, the barest bones Old Tradition beliefs and their willingness to follow them is very rare amongst the People as far as you can tell. Their devotion earns your respect.

At other times, your jaw hangs open and you can’t believe you are talking to an adult roughly around the same age as yourself, who by his own admission had spent three decades living as a follower of the Creed - not knowing about things children are thought through plays and songtime. His ignorance is so staggering, your admiration towards his unknown Armourer wavers. How could she keep so many things hidden from them? Why not talk about your own history? Your greats? Your artefacts?

About the many other who would call them vod’e, siblings?

You are an armourer, a craftsman, a person who makes a living by making things with your hand. You’re not a leader, or a scholar, or someone who decides what to tell your people. You do have a status within the community, but that is a status of service. From what the stranger says, their Armourer was a leader in every aspect: elder and lorekeeper and moral guide and more. All in one. It is something you can see developing from the old songs and histories amongst groups who take tradition more literally.

You are good at observing people, even at copying their habits to make them feel more comfortable with you, but less good at determining their underlying motives. The reason you think of him as “the stranger” even after travelling with him is because it’s so hard to figure out what drives him. There’s a melancholy to him that overrides the more typical mandalorian fight-readiness or aggression. You see how he gazes off to the distance sometimes, turning his head to the side and freezing. How he keeps to himself when he can. But you can’t tell why. Grief? Regrets? Determination to change? Planning something greater and being preoccupied with that?

He doesn’t pick fights to test you. He spars with you when you invite him to, he helps when you ask, and often even without it. He’s polite and considerate; he keeps conversation to practicalities and interesting stories, and doesn’t bother you with anecdotes or insistent questions about trivialities or your private life. He even does the dishes.

He’s deadly boring in his reliableness.

You are used to being on your toes around people all the time. When you meet a new group, it’s all unknown people. With ones you had already visited, the problem is having to remember them. They remember you of course, the ‘wandering armourer’; and surely you remember them too.

What is worse, when people stay the same but you don’t remember them, or when they change and you just can’t place them?

He becomes a good excuse after you’ve been to several coverts together. It’s interesting to notice how your dynamics change even further once you two get into a comfortable routine. You start to retreat to your forge and tools, and let him take all the attention. And he doesn’t just talk about his mission anymore, or lets little ones play around him whilst he’s quiet. He converses with people about news, about their children, about weaponry. You have more time to focus on your work.

Sometimes, people ask you what do you think of his mission. You tell them that you will follow what your clan decides, and that’s mostly true. It is something people don’t often debate, at least.

He quickly becomes a part of your everyday life. You are content with your usually solitary travels. You know that your family, your clan and your friends wait for you at home. They message you and you can find the time that suits you to message back. You don’t miss the constant hubbub of the covert most of the time. But now that you have someone that is not a droid, someone who is your equal in every aspect, on board again, it’s not even lonely anymore.

***

“So what’s up with you and droids?” you ask one day, after you got back from a covert and are safely in hyperspace to the next destination. You tinker with your astromech’s navigational systems. Poor 2-T keeps bumping into walls and crates. Again.

The stranger looks at you and your droid, than over at Mouse who for a change isn’t zooming around at foot level.

“Bad memories.”

“Gunk sat on you?” You tease. You hope it’s just something silly and not him having some sort of snobbish organics-are-better philosophy. He is quiet, and you focus on your work. He’ll talk if he wants to, that much you know already about him.

Inside the body of your astromech, a rivet from stars knows where is stuck between two circuit boards and blocks the access to a short-circuited piece of wire.

“Kriff. Toots, this will take a while, sweetie. Can’t access that kriffing panel.” He chirps back something and you read the translation on the small display. “No, it’s not that. My hand can’t fit in that small space. Let me find those pliers… should be in that other drawer somewhere.”

You search in the chest of tools, and despite your usually good organization, you can’t find them amongst the droids’ tools where their place is.

“Let me help.” The stranger’s voice beside you makes you jump. He can be awfully quiet. “Sorry. I think I might’ve put them back into the wrong drawer. I used them the other day when I fine-tuned that scope.”

He points at another drawer, where you keep your fine electronics stuff. No wonder he mixed them up. He stands beside Tootee a bit awkwardly until you find the tool.

“Here! No problem by the way. “ You turn back to him and to the droid, than have an idea. “Do you mind a bit more help? You can say no if you don’t want to work with the droid, I’ll understand.”

He doesn’t object yet, so you go back to 2-T and show the stranger the area you’re working on. You see him lean closer in your peripheral vision.

“That’s where I need to get that burned piece of wire out and install a new one, but first, I need to get that rivet out of the way.” You point at the root of the problem, than explain your plan, pointing out each part in turn. ”If you could hold those using this, than I could get here, remove this, with that tool, than have to get those bundles out of the way too, so than that wire there could come out. Easy.”

You look up at him, and his helmet is way closer than you expected. You can almost see your reflection in that black visor as it stares back at you for a second, and you almost apologize again, when the stranger starts to speak.

“Just have to hold the wires to the casing, or pull them like…” he moves his hand in the air, showing what he means.

“Hold them to that panel, there, with the pliers, so I have room to access the rest.”

He thinks for a moment, than he starts to tug one of his gloves off.

“You don’t need to take that off, just hold the pliers” you tell him, but he shakes his head.

“No, I can fit my hand in there, I’m pretty sure. If not we can try it with the tool.”

You realize that this is the first time you see his skin. Than it occurs to you that he might very well misunderstand this whole situation. You just asked him to hang his hand inches from yours in an enclosed space; inside a droid nonetheless, just after you basically told him you noticed he has a problem with them. It would be so easy to get caught up in there, to touch his hand, and hush it up as coincidence. Especially now that he took his glove off as well. He might even think that it was a careful plan of yours: have an area to work with were your slightly larger hands don’t fit but his might.

Your fingertips already tingle from knowing you can’t make mistakes. Which means you’ll probably do. He reaches between the panels and gets to the part where you got stuck. He wiggles his fingers a bit and scrapes around.

“Ha, found some wires. Are these the ones you need out of the way?”

You peer down into the quagmire of electronics, trying to find the best angle to see everything.

“Yes, those are the ones. Just hold them like that.” You try to focus on what you are doing, but after those earlier thoughts, your hands are jittery. You somehow manage to remove the obstructing rivet, than find the burned out part and replace it without accident, the stranger patiently holding things out of your way. You direct him here and there, occasionally stumbling as it’s a lot of instructions, or at least a lot of “could you please” and “thank you”. It gets particularly awkward when you stumble over the lack of name spectacularly.

“Could you pull those the other way, so they aren't that taut, please? Thank you, you. I mean thank you.”

“Din. Din Djarin.” Your head snaps up while the rest of your body freezes. “I should have told you my name sooner, but I’m so used to not telling it… and it just became more awkward to bring it up as time passed. I apologize.”

You close your mouth that of course was hanging open in surprise, than shake your head.

“I thought at first that I missed it when you said it so I was ashamed that I didn’t remember.” That did happen before, and it was one of your greatest worries about meeting new people. “I actually asked my elder. Sent her a comm. So when she told me you went nameless, I didn’t wanted to demand it.”

He doesn't answer right away. His voice is softer when he speaks a bit later.

“Thank you. For being considerate.”

You smile and try to wave it off. Which results in your hand slipping and pawing at his, still motionless and stuck in the inside of the astromech.

“Oh shucks, I’m sorry… didn’t meant to.” You withdraw your hand quickly, and start to look for your tools to cover your mistake.

He doesn’t seem bothered, luckily. You calm down, reminding yourself not to behave like you drank one too many glasses of your cousin Ree’s home-made tihaar, and finish the repair.

“You can let those go now, I’ll finish from here. Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome, any time.”

He sits back on a nearby crate and watches you work for a while, ignoring Mouse zooming around the room. You’re surprised a bit: you didn't expected him to stick around. And than he starts to ask about 2-T. How long you had him, is he temperamental, can you install a vocoder on astromechs, and why not. His tone is somewhat cautious, his voice stiff, like someone asking about a dangerous predator. You remember how you asked him about his distance with droids, but don’t want to push that question. He already told you his name today.

…

By the time you finish with the rest of the repairs, clean Tootee up and tidy around your workplace, interrupted by having to leave hyperspace and land at a spaceport, it’s the middle of the night in local time. You planned to have a nap and search out the local covert just before dawn.

You go to the galley to have a bite before turning in, and the stranger - Din, you remember, although his last name is less clear - is cleaning up some dishes. There’s another bowl in the middle of the small table, covered by a plate.

“That’s for you, if you’d like to have it. Used up the last of that spice mix we got” he tells you as you enter. You sit down and stretch your legs out one side. As you take the plate off from the steaming bowl, you think about how nice it is to find warm food on the table and not having to cook your own all the time.

“Thank you.” You pull the bowl close and take the spoon that he put beside it. You swirl the soup - it looks very good: clear broth with lots of veggies and other fillers in it - and gather your thoughts. “So ummm… I want to ask something before it gets awkward again.“

He finishes piling the bowls and cups and sits down on the seat opposite. You blurt the question out before you might change your mind.

“What was your name again? Din, that was clear, but the rest… sorry but it sounded something like “jarring”?”

He chuckles, and it’s a clear sound even with a vocoder, no snort or sigh to distort it.

“It’s Djarin. Dorn-jenth-aurek-resh-isk-nern. Djarin.” You nod, a bit embarrassed, and he continues. “Don’t worry, you aren't the first to ask. Probably not the last either.”

“Thanks for being patient. I’m not the best with names, to be honest.”

He tilts his head.

“Is that why you are always so focused when someone introduces themselves? I can ask them to repeat their names for me too if you want to, than both of us can try to remember them.”

You blink at him.

“That’d be…” Unnecessary, and don’t bother, and it’s not your job, you think - but stop yourself. That would actually help. No shame in accepting it. ”That would be nice. Thanks.” You are good at a few things, like making things with your own two hands. Not gaping when something surprises you, or remembering faces or names, any names, not just people? Nah.

You tuck into your soup, and the two of you sit in companionable silence. You wander if Djarin sits there because he wants to, or if he’s waiting for more questions from you. You asked a lot from him during the last few hours, and he was really kind with all his help and telling you his name and not being bothered when you misremembered it.

You are halfway done with your meal when he stirs. He leans forward with his lower arms on the table, and takes a deep breath. You wonder what his question will be - you commit to answer whatever it might be. He deserves that after today.

“So you asked earlier about me and… droids, right?”

Your hand with the spoon stops in the air. You weren’t expecting this question, at all.

“Yes…” You want to say he didn’t have to answer. But you already told him that. You’re sure he remembers that too - since he brought the topic up again. “Yes, I did.”

He shuffles on his seat a bit, and looks out to the side like he sometimes does. You lower your spoon and eat, letting him gather his thoughts.

“When I was a kid… I don’t know how old you were then, but during the war. The Clone wars.” You nod, understanding what he’s getting at, and he continues. “We were… the place I lived came under attack. Some separatist battle droids. Mandalorians saved me.”

You swallow your soup. That was the shortest possible description of someone having their entire life and probably everyone they knew ripped away from them and finding a new way of life for the decades to come.

“I’m sorry” you say, because really, what else is there to say. He nods, and gazes off again. Than he shrugs his shoulders, as if he wants to shake the weight of the past from them.

He gets up, and walks around the table on his way out. He stops beside you for a moment and hesitates, and you almost turn towards him to ask what he needs when you feel him squeeze your shoulder. Than he straightens and steps away.

It’s warm where he squeezed it, and you remember how long ago it was that someone touched you.

You need to talk to your friends asap, and hug at least some of them. He turns back from the door.

“Get some sleep before dawn, all right? Have to be sharp to remember all those new names.” You don’t see him wink but you’d bet he does behind his visor. You scrunch your nose at him and pout before smiling, and he dips out of the galley.

Your hand is still hovering in the air, holding the spoon, while you listen to his footsteps getting more distant as he walks down the corridor to his cabin.

It’s just your luck that you don’t need your wits the next place. It’s only two people with the same, simple name and you met both of them before.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x tall reader #din djarin x gn!reader #post season 2 #mandalorian oc #armourer oc #cheeky mandos #my writing

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unlocktxt · 4 years ago

Text

more than just a memory | c.s.b

Choi Soobin

❦ genre: angst, fluff, ghost soobin!au, soobin x reader

❦ description: moving into your new house, you expected to be met with peace and quiet, but everything doesn’t seem to go according to plan when your met with a tall lonely ghost named soobin.

❦ word count: 5.6k

❦ warning‼️: this includes/mentions death, loss, heartbreak, afterlife, and swearing

The burning sun could be felt on your skin, tanning it as you ran down the never ending street. You checked your digital watch to see that you were now five minutes late to your moving in get together. Your absence would be evident to your close family and friends. The thought of your parents nagging about your tardiness only motivated you to move faster. You were running so fast that you just barely managed to dodge an old woman and her barking chihuahua. “Watch where you’re going before you kill someone’s dog!” You didn’t have to look at her to know that she was pointing her angry accusing finger at you. “Sorry miss!” You quickly turned the corner, finally on your street. You were relieved to know that the old woman wasn’t your neighbor. With the house in your sights you ran even faster, those years spent in track finally paying off. Practically feeling like a cheetah, it was hard for you to stop yourself as you approached the house. Trying to slow down was a useless attempt as you tripped. The stupid rock causing you to fly forward, foot hurting like a bitch. Your reflexes didn’t seem to be enough, but they still managed to get you to crash into the parked car, rather than the pavement. As if things couldn’t get any worse, the car alarm started blaring. At that moment, you were willing to dismantle that moving money eater. The car alarm suddenly stopped, causing you to face the small group of people on the porch. Well shit. Waving with a big smile on your face, you fought the urge to laugh at yourself and feigned innocent. This clearly didn’t work because when you made eye contact with your parents, you could practically feel the disappointment. Good thing you have your own house now.

You made your way over to your favorite people, still out of breath from running. “Hi guys! So sorry I’m late. I uh... I had to go help this elderly woman catch her chihuahua that got loose.” You decided against telling them that you managed to get lost walking around the many, many blocks. Nodding your head in satisfaction, you thanked the old woman and her dog for saving you from the wrath of your parents. The only person who didn’t seem to fall for this was your friend, Taehyun, who shook his head in disapproval, although you knew he found it funny. “Let’s get this party started!” You ushered everyone inside as you made your way over to Taehyun and Beomgyu. “Okay so what the hell were you actually doing?” Taehyun raised an eyebrow at you, basically staring you down. You let out a sigh, knowing they would make fun of you. “I went out for a walk because I got spooked... and then I got lost.” Beomgyu immediately started laughing. “You- You got lost in your own neighborhood!” He couldn’t help his laughter, you were just too oblivious of your surroundings. Taehyun, who actually listened carefully, had more questions. “So why did you get scared in the first place?” Taehyun seemed interested in what you had to say, giving you the confidence you needed. “Well... the house is always kind of cold you know... and they say it could be because it’s haunted. I didn’t really mind it, but I swear I saw a reflection in the mirror.” You shivered just thinking about it. This caused Beomgyu to look around with wide eyes. “No way... your house is haunted!” Beomgyu shouted, causing Taehyun to put his hand over the loud man’s mouth. “She probably just isn’t used to being home alone, so she got paranoid.” Taehyun shrugged. To be fair... it does sound more reasonable, however, you could’ve sworn you saw a tall figure staring at you. Then again it only lasted for a split second. “Your parents brought cake, come on.” Taehyun got us back on track, but not before Beomgyu mouthed we should totally go ghost hunting. Ignoring the heavy feeling on your chest, you followed after them. What couldn’t be seen, was how Soobin lit up. So she did see me, he thought. After months of having an empty feeling, he finally felt something. Hope. He now made it his mission to get your oblivious self to notice him.

“I can’t believe our child is all grown up now.” Your mom’s eyes glossed over as she looked at you. “Mom don’t cry,” you chuckled at her pouty face, “you’re acting like I’m never going to visit you.” Shaking your head, you realized that you were going to be all alone in this house. Like a slap to the face, the thought of having to be completely independent hit you. The sudden realization scared you, but you knew it was about time to grow up. “I think that you’re still our little one, after all I’ll just be glad you don’t burn the house down.” Your dad’s joke had everyone laughing, they all knew how much he wanted to see you everyday. The memories of your childhood seemed to flash through your mind - the time your dad would always set you on the tree until you were able to climb up it just like him- or the time your mom chased you around the yard, trying to tickle your small self. These are the memories you would cling onto for the rest of your life. “I’m not that bad of a cook!” Sure you had caught noodles on fire, but that was like three years ago. You’ve improved since then, or so you thought. “There’s a reason no one asks you to cook.” Your mom admitted, to which you puffed your cheeks. You were being called out and your friends just nodded in agreement. The ultimate betrayal. “Then it’s a good thing I had you to take care of me. I probably picked up a few of your tricks.” Key word probably.

Your parents weren’t going to stay long, that way you and your friends could have some fun. Just when you turned to walk your parents to the door, the plastic cup moved an inch. Soobin, who had moved it, quickly turned to look at you with a big, proud smile. “I just did that!” He was excited about his achievement that took ten minutes to pull off, but as he looked at your back facing him, his face fell. “You have got to be kidding me.” The poor invisible Soobin really wanted to take out his frustration, but as his fist went to collide with the wooden table, it went straight through. An exasperating sigh came from Soobin as he moved onto plan b. Having not seen this, you waved your parents goodbye, slowly closing the door before turning to your two friends. “I call the dog!” Beomgyu ran to the monopoly board that Taehyun set up, diving for the little piece. You happily scurried over to your friends as you grabbed the shoe before Taehyun could. “Oh I’m definitely going to make you go bankrupt for that one.” Taehyun grabbed the car, sending glares. From past experiences, the three of you decided to put away the hammers and any potential weapon. Rolling the dice to see who��s first, you punched the air as you rolled a 6, higher than the two of them combined. As you did so you could’ve sworn your hand brushed against something cold, but maybe it was just the air conditioning. Soobin, sitting directly beside you, jumped as a result of your fist going straight through him. Was monopoly really this exciting, Soobin wondered, now wanting to play along. The three of you, not noticing the ghost boy, started the game with you rolling the dice. Your game face was now on. You decided to buy the first property you landed on. Taehyun went next, landing on the same color, his face told you that he wasn’t planning on letting you go that easily. “Don’t you dare buy that property!” You wanted all of the greens, but Taehyun wasn’t letting you have that chance as he bought the property. “Fine then... I’ll just make you go bankrupt.” You were now going to make them pay.

When the game ended you felt defeated. The look on Taehyuns face scared you. He truly was the monopoly master. “I can’t believe you took all of my money.” Beomgyu whined. It was now eleven at night, the game had lasted a while. “We should probably get going.” Taehyun said as he grabbed his stuff, taking a slice of cake with him. “Okay be safe on the way home.” You walked them to the door, waving their car goodbye.

Sighing, you couldn’t help but notice how chilly it was in the house. “Does the thermostat even work?” After messing with it a bit, you decided to just get a blanket, however, as you leaned over to grab one you met eyes with a man who looked similar to a bunny. “Get out before I call the cops!” You turned around quickly as you ran to the kitchen, grabbing a knife. You could tell he was caught off guard as his eyes seemed to enlarge. He definitely wasn’t very good at whatever he’s doing. As you turned on your phone, he seemed to get the gist. He came running at you, panicking. You were terrified and did the first thing you could think of- stab him. Your hands shook as your eyes trembled, you didn’t know what to do, but you did know you were terrified. Your hand and knife just went straight through him. Now that Soobin knew you could see him, he put all his energy into taking your phone. You were stuck in shock at what was happening. When you finally gained enough sense to move, you backed up. “P-please don’t kill me!” You were helpless against an invincible man.

Soobin knew he shouldn’t scare you, but he wanted to have some fun before reassuring you, after all... he used to joke about haunting people. He slowly approached your cowering figure, trapping you against the wall with his body. His arms were placed beside your head and he stared, you didn’t have anywhere to go. This is when you got this brilliant idea, if the knife could go straight through him maybe you could too! His face was a little too close for comfort, so you quickly tried to catch him off guard and lean forward, however, when you expected your face to fall right through him, you ended up meeting with something hard. Not only did this shock you, but also Soobin. He did not expect you to lean in and kiss him... the warmth of your lips sparking a fire within him. You were now highly embarrassed on top of fearing for your life. “I... I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! You know I just thought that I would go right through you... but that didn’t work. Please don’t kill me... just tell me what you want!” You rambled trying to get him to spare your life. Soobin had just gotten over the shock, now enjoying your flustered state. He smirked as he leaned closer, “Maybe another kiss.” That surely was not what you expected. Is that really what he wanted... or was it a trick? The tall black haired boy started laughing as he backed away from you. You were confused, but relieved as you finally let out the breath you were holding.

“I actually want you to help me see my friends and family. You see... you’ve probably already guessed, but I’m a ghost and I’d like to say goodbye to them one last time.” His whole demeanor had changed and you were now looking at a very cute guy. You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued. “My names Soobin. I actually used to live here or well... still kind of do. Surprise you have a dead roommate because I can’t seem to leave the house.” This was not normal... at all. When you decided to live here, you didn’t think it was haunted. “May I ask when you died?” You couldn’t help yourself, you were curious. Besides if you were going to help him then you’d need to know if these people were still alive. The humor he had before seemed to be a mask because once you asked this he had a distant look on his face. “If I remember correctly it was three months ago.” Something seemed to hit you, now looking at him you felt pity towards the ghost. You don’t know if you would’ve had a different reaction had he said something else, but you were now fighting the urge to cry due to his tragic situation. He was alone for three months, knowing that his loved ones were in pain missing him. The lump in your throat formed, “why don’t we sit down?” You grabbed his hand, almost retracting yours from the ice cold feeling. When you looked up at him, your eyes seemed like a mirror, reflecting the light as a burning feeling reached your nose. Don’t cry, you reminded yourself. Soobin, who had longed for the warm feeling, unconsciously tightened his grip on your hand as he moved closer. Noticing this warmed your heart, it relieved you that he seemed to enjoy your contrasting temperature. You wanted to give him the warmth he needed, so you placed another hand on his. The two of you smiled at each other before heading to the living room. His smile contained so much kindness, you wish you knew him before he had passed away.

Soobin had talked on and on about his plan to get his friends and parents here. You could tell he was excited and thought a lot about how to this this, however, it didn’t seem that he thought of the consequences. It was a wholesome plan, but you just didn’t think it would work out. Although his plan wasn’t all that great, you knew that the reason he couldn’t find peace was because he didn’t get to say goodbye. You had to compromise. “Soobin,” you took a deep breath before looking him in the eyes, “I don’t think telling your loved ones that you’re a ghost is a good idea.” You were met with Soobin’s confusion. “Well they obviously won’t believe you at first, but that’s where I come-”

“No Soobin... I don’t think they should know that you’re still somewhat on this earth.” The hurt on his face tore you to shreds, he felt betrayed. “And why not? I thought you were going to help me.” Soobin released his grip on your hands, confusion turning into anger. His narrowed eyes were locked on you. “I still want to help you Soobin... it’s just... they have been adjusting to your death for three months. In other words, they are three months into grieving.” You hoped he would understand as you reached for his hand. Soobin’s pale face tensed up as he pulled his hand further away. “As if you would know. My parents need to know that I’m okay! You don’t know what it’s like, so keep your shitty opinion to yourself. If you won’t help me then I’ll figure out another way.” Venom was laced in his voice and you noticed he seemed to be going in and out of transparency. You stayed calm, “I could never know what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help. We can think of another way. By telling them you’re a ghost, you’d be giving them hope to be with you again. They’d have to lose you all over again, who knows what could happen to you as a ghost. I’m sure it would hurt them to know that this whole time you were alone and not in a better place.” You hadn’t looked away from Soobin, so you were able to see his expression change. His furrowed brows seemed to drop as he looked at the ground, clearly upset. He looked lost, his hope of saying goodbye being stripped from him. You felt guilty that you were the one to make him like this, but it was the right thing to do. Or were you just telling yourself that?

“What am I supposed to do now?” Soobin felt defeated, he was stuck in a place he didn’t belong. You slowly leaned into Soobin, looking for any sign of disapproval, and hugged him. The warmth that enveloped Soobin like a blanket was still able to give him comfort. “You could always write a letter and pretend you wrote it before you died.” You talked softly, scared that any harsher of a tone would break him even more. Soobin escaped from your hug with newly found hope, his red puffy eyes looking at your pity filled ones. “That’s a brilliant idea!” Soobin was sad that he wouldn’t get to have a conversation, but at least this would cause less pain. Looking at his excited self made you wish you thought of this plan sooner. You had just met this man, but you were completely willing to make him happy. You assumed it was just the fact that you’d want the same done for you. “Well let’s get some rest and then we can start on that tomorrow.” Soobin nodded, he didn’t need any sleep, but knew that it was important for you. You still managed to get the couch comfortable for him, even putting a heavy blanket over him just in case it would work. Although Soobin knew blankets would do nothing to ease the cold feeling, he felt warm on the inside as you tried to take care of him.

When you fell asleep Soobin hesistantly walked through the wall and into your room. His eyes softened as he looked at your relaxed form. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared. Scared that if he didn’t stay beside you, he would be forgotten. Which led him to sitting beside your bed, holding your hand for the warmth.

You could smell something delicious, making your mouth water as you woke up. With eyes halfway open, you made your way to the smell that was coming from the kitchen. “Oh you’re awake!” Soobin turned towards you, hearing your dragging steps. Seeing him like this made you feel like you lived with him for a while. You’re once tired eyes opened wide as you realized he was cooking. “You cook?” You asked as you walked over to him. “I cooked here and there when I was alive. I heard that you’re not a really good cook and thought that I could pay you back for your help.” Soobin’s small smile and words left your cheeks tinted red. “You didn’t have to do this.” You couldn’t help your watery mouth when you looked at the fresh pancakes. When Soobin looked at you he was overjoyed seeing your shining eyes looking at the pancakes. “Yeah I know, but I wanted to. Besides I thought you’d be hungry.” He slid the last pancake onto the plate as he brought it to the table. “I’m not that hungry...” You tried to play it off, but the rumble coming from your stomach betrayed you. Soobin chuckeled, “eat up. I can’t really eat.” You we’re stuck looking at Soobin. You didn’t even think about it... he couldn’t really enjoy pancakes anymore. Shaking away this thought, you spread the syrup and grabbed the fork in excitement. As you went to dig in, you saw Soobin staring at you with a smile on his face, causing you to slow down.

“So when do you want to start writing?” You swallowed a big piece of the pancake as you waiting for an answer. “I’ve actually started already. The problem is that I keep throwing them away because I don’t know what to say.” Soobin sighed, resting his chin on his palm. “Why don’t you try writing from the heart?” The words flowed out of your mouth, too busy focusing on your almost finished pancakes. Soobin looked at you, clearly unimpressed. “Why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait... I did.” You laughed a bit at his sarcastic tone, now putting up the dirty plate. Soobin came up behind you, grabbing your arm and swinging it. “I need help.” He pouted. “Well... have you tried starting with the memories you’ve shared? That way you can work your way up and really know what it is you want to say.” You used to write a lot of letters for your friends and this had always helped you.

Soobin nodded, heading over to the small table where tons of paper were sprawled about. By the time you got over there Soobin had already picked up the pen and started writing. Being the nosy person you are, you read over his shoulder, giggling at the cute memories he wrote down.

“No way... did you really set your couch on fire and try to hide it?” You were hunched over trying to catch your breath as you visualized a tiny Soobin sitting on the burnt fabric, never getting up in attempt to hide it. Soobin, watching your fit of laughter, smiles fondly. Your laughter was beautiful and he never wanted to let it go. “Says the one who nearly burnt her house down trying to cook.” Soobin added in, causing your laughter to come to a halt. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.” You cursed your dad in your head.

You started to learn a lot about Soobin from reading about his life, to talking with each other. The longer Soobin was around, the more your head was filled with thoughts of him, but you blamed it on the fact that he was in the same room as you. “Ugh... I finally finished and need a break.” Without thinking about it, Soobin grabbed your hands and placed them on his chest. He couldn’t help but long for your warm touch. you were now pressed up against the chair and his back, leaving your face awfully close to his. The close proximity made your face heat up and when Soobin turned to look at you, you panicked. Coughing you withdrew your hands and backed up a bit. “Then let’s talk.” You pulled a chair next to Soobin and sat down. Soobin knew that he flustered you and he couldn’t help but enjoy it. He knew he was being selfish, but the feeling of his fake heart beating told him that he was starting to see you as more than the living girl willing to help him. You on the other hand, wouldn’t allow yourself to admit the reason behind your not so subtle glances at him that made your heart flutter. When you looked at him now he seemed different. He seemed... happy. Looking at him like this, you could easily mistake him for an everyday attractive boy. Couldn’t the two of you just stick together? The selfish thought of yours shocked you. If you did that then you’d be forcing him to live without his friends and family. Couldn’t you be enough? You quickly disregarded these thoughts, Soobin needed to find peace and you were not going to be the one to stop him.

You didn’t notice your eyes getting watery until a single tear streamed down your cheek. Soobin managed to see this. “Maybe we should talk about this whole thing.” He suggested, leading you to the couch as you quickly wiped the tear away. He ended up laying his head on his thighs as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Okay... what about it?” You asked with a heavy heart. “I know you’ve been wondering what I think about this whole situation.” You nodded your head, admitting to your prying mind. “I’m a little scared.” You could see where this was going, the look on his face showing concern as his eyes darted around. “I can’t help but wonder what comes next.” He took a deep breath in. “What if I get stuck here or if wherever I’m going isn’t as nice as it seems?” After telling this to you, Soobin felt the weight lift off of his shoulders, but you were stuck thinking about how he was going to go into the unknown. “Well... I don’t know. It depends what you believe, but what I do know is that you won’t have to feel out of place anymore. You’ll probably be comforted by the big bright light.” You yourself didn’t know what you believed, but Soobin’s glow was enough to reassure you he’d be alright.

There was a soothing silence before Soobin spoke up once more. “I don’t want to be just another memory that gets forgotten.” Soobin was now looking at your eyes that were focusing on his hair. “You would never be just a memory, nor would you be forgotten. You lived Soobin and in everyone’s hearts you will stay alive.” His hands grabbed yours, placing them where his heart should be. This caused you to look into his ocean blue eyes. The eyes that once lacked life were filled with emotions, causing a fire to ignite within you. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore, you were falling for him. A forbidden relationship that should never exist. Maybe you didn’t want to admit this to yourself because you knew it would end in heartbreak, but you couldn’t seem to lie to yourself anymore. “Thank you.” Soobin wanted so badly to confess to you, but he was dead. He wanted to stay for you, but he knew it would only hold you back, so he kept his feelings to himself. He could tell you were being distant, so he made sure to continue. “You know... when I first saw you I knew there was something different about you, so I kept trying to get your attention.” Soobin wore a smile now, and you noticed that he was slightly glowing. He was ready to accept death completely and you had to live with that. “Well I’m glad I was finally able to meet you.” You successfully hid your sadness behind a smile. In order to stop himself from saying something he shouldn’t, he decided to get the show on the road. “I guess you should head to Yeonjun’s house now.” Soobin hesitantly mentioned. The two of you looked at eachother in silence, both having so much to say, but keeping it all in. “Yeah... I guess so. Bye Soobin... I’m glad I could help you.” You quickly grabbed the envelopes as you left in a heartbeat.

When you arrived at Yeonjun’s house, you didn’t think you would be this nervous. Hesistantly knocking on the door, you were trying to shake your nerves away. Maybe you should’ve mailed them. Your breath hitched while watching the wooden door open. The man who had opened it was young, blonde, and very handsome. “Hi, I’m looking for someone named Yeonjun. I found this letter left behind from the house I just moved into. Your address was on it.” The exact words that you rehearsed on your way here were hard to get out. “Okay well... I’m Yeonjun.” He looked at you weirdly, probably ready to call the cops if anything went south. “It says it’s from Soobin.” With that one name Yeonjun’s happy exterior seemed to deflate. “Oh... thank you.” His shaky voice broke your heart, you knew they’ve been best friends for the longest. “I hate to ask this... but there’s also one for someone named Hueningkai.” The boy infront of you clearly was having a hard time dealing with Soobin’s death. “He’s actually here right now. I’ll take it to him.” You handed him the other letter, reluctant to leave. “You know, you look like his type.” You looked up at the blond best friend with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“Soobin.” His answer left a bitter sweet feeling in you as you just smiled and nodded before walking away. You were close to tears, but wanted to be strong for Soobin. Seeing his parents could potentially break your heart even more, but you knew it was for the best. You used everything you could to distract yourself from the sad thought, now choosing to look at the different colors of the pavement. You must’ve been so distracted that you managed to forget about the world around you, that was until the unfamiliar door opened. You were now looking at a man that resembled Soobin in many ways, just older. It was obvious this was his dad. His sunken eyes were a little too noticeable and you were correct, your heart was breaking piece by piece. It was almost like you were reliving the life that was lost. Just seeing the people he wrote about left images of what the memories looked like to you. Why did the world have to take away this young twenty-two year old? Holding back the tears, you once again said what was rehearsed, like a broken record. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but these two notes were left behind from where I just moved. They had your address on them and it’s from someone named Soobin.” His already sad eyes seemed to fall deeper in the darkness as he shakily took the letters, with a faint thank you. Before he could close the door you couldn’t help yourself and went off script. “Your son must really love you. I bet he’d want you to live a nice, long, and happy life.” You could tell he considered your words, finally walking into the house with his shoulders raised. The moment the door shut was when you realized that Soobin should’ve found peace by now. Instead of crying, you decided to hold it all in.

You didn’t realize how lonely you could feel until you opened the door. You kept reminding yourself that he had found peace, but you just felt numb. that was until you saw the tall black haired ghost looking at you with a frown. You wish your heart didn’t flip when you saw him. You wish that you didn’t hope to see him one last time. Although you wanted to be happy for this moment with him, you panicked. “What are you doing here? You should’ve found peace!” Did something go wrong? “Y/N... the reason I can’t move on yet is... is because of you.” You didn’t know how to react. His words sent a surge of emotions through you, causing you to lash out. “Soobin you can’t stay here! There’s nothing keeping you here! I’m okay with you leaving!” The lies left your mouth, anything to have him move on. Soobin didn’t say anything as he walked over to you, strongly pulling you against him. His hand pushed your head against his chest as he rubbed your back. “Please...” the anger left your body as you struggled to keep your tears back. “I couldn’t leave yet because it didn’t feel right. I never gave you a proper goodbye. Now... it’s okay to cry, I’ll miss you too.” He seemed to hug you tighter, his words relieving you. “Why did you have to die?” Tears ran down your cheeks as you started to shake from your choked sobs. “I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t keep you here.” Soobin’s shirt was getting drenched as you continued to cry into it.

He pushed you back a little so he could look into your eyes. “I like you Y/N and I’m sorry that we had to meet like this.” His eyes were red and puffy, but you didn’t have time to say anything before he leaned in, placing his cold, soft lips against yours. The kiss was passionate, the two of you never wanting to let go of this moment. You grew to enjoy his cold comforting touch, but it was slowly disappearing. When your lips left eachother Soobin made sure to put his hand over your eyes. “Please... just keep your eyes closed.” You listened to his last wish, shaking as you choked out a goodbye. The little trace of cold was replaced by warmth, causing you to fall to your knees as your eyes opened. You were met with an empty living room. For once, the house felt warm, but this could never make up for the internal warmth that had been stripped from you.

The next day was hard. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion and you seemed to zone out the whole day. People continued on with their lives as if nothing happened, but you knew and that was enough. You were able to say goodbye and you were grateful for that. When you got home and tossed your keys on the dresser, you became aware of the white envelope with Soobin’s handwriting. You were delicate with the envelope, not wanting to rip it. This letter was to you, the last thing you had of Soobin.

Dear Y/N,

You told me to write about my memories and work my way up. Sadly, we didn’t have much time together, however, every moment spent with you meant a lot to me. The days can get hard, but life is worth living. Even when everything seems to be going wrong, there is always something good right around the corner. Anyways, I’m sorry for scaring you that night, although I wish I could’ve messed with you some more before I leave...or left. I’ve never met someone who has made me feel the way you do. If you’re willing, I’d like to meet you in another life. Our time together was too short. I want to thank you as well. Thank you for helping me move on and for finally being able to save me from the cold. Please don’t cling onto me, I’d like you to move on as well. Let’s both be happy. Thank you for keeping me alive in your heart.

Love, your ghost boy Soobinie

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bold-writing · 4 years ago

Text

The One With Silver Scars || 8 || Bleeding Innocence

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of abuse, violence.

Words: 2700+

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~8~

All the years spent under the thumbs of her parents, Adelais learned skills that most people would disregard as useless. Among those was sleeping in some of the most uncomfortable conditions. She had slept on the stone-cold concrete of the basement floor, nothing to soften the surface or keep her warm. The drafty space of the attic where she encountered a disturbing number of bugs, only a moldy rug between her and the wood. Forced to stand in one place that would result in punishment if they found she had moved come morning.

Sitting propped against the wall is far from the worst sleeping spot she had encountered so far.

When her eyes opened the sight that greeted her was Claire and Marcia spooned together on one bed and Casey stretched out on the other. It must have been early; she woke at 4 in the morning like she was on a damned wind-up clock. But this was different. She hadn’t woken from the routine she had built up over the years, something had woken her.

That’s when she noticed there was more lighting in the room than there should have been. Only the small lights on the backwall were on, leaving just the faintest glow above the heads of the other girls.

Casting her eyes to her left, she kept herself carefully emotionless when she came face to face with the body of Dennis and Patricia—because it was clearly not them—smiling at her almost manically. Wearing what seemed to be a black and yellow tracksuit, the zipper of the coat undone enough to show a plain white shirt beneath. Legs were crossed and he rested his back against the doorframe so he could face her.

“Hello,” she greeted quietly, trying not to wake the other three.

How many personalities did this person have? Which was the original?

“I’m Hedwig,” he responded. The lisp that altered his words slightly caused her a moment of shock—a child? “How do you sleep like that?” he inquired a moment later, tipping his head to the side as he regarded how she was sitting against the wall—actually quite similar to him, since her legs were crossed, and her hands were tucked together in her lap.

His voice was slightly louder than hers. Doubtless enough to wake the others soon. “Practice,” was her calm response.

Before he even opened his mouth, Adelais lifted a finger to her lips to convey his need to be quiet. He paused at the commend, his smile dimming as his expressed became a mix of a frown and a pout.

“You’ll wake them up,” she explained quietly, using the same finger she had shushed him with to point over to Marcia and Claire.

The scoff he released as more like air pushed between his bottom lip and his top teeth, like someone blowing a raspberry. “So?”

Ducking her head closer to him, like a secret was being shared, Adelais kept her eyes carefully trained on his. “I don’t want to wake them; they’re mean to me.” His expression hardened, finally looking similar to Dennis. “They say I’m crazy.”

Hedwig sucked on his lip, maintaining the sour look on his face. “The others used to be mean to me,” he responded in a much quieter tone. “But Miss. Patricia and Mr. Dennis keep the others away. Now, Miss. Patricia sings to me sometimes—she’s not mad at me anymore.” He smiled, but it wobbled slightly as he tried to mask the turmoil of emotions welling to the surface.

Adelais’s answering smile was sad. “It must be nice to have someone who takes care of you.”

“Who-who takes care of you?” Hedwig shuffled forward, separating from the doorframe to put less space between them.

She shook her head. “No one, I take care of myself.”

With the innocence only a child could have, he frowned at her words. “That sounds lonely.”

“It is. Mr. Dennis has been keeping me company. When he can. I’m sure he’s very busy so he usually has to leave. Does he know you’re here?”

A look of panic came to his face and Adelais knew she had asked the wrong question. “No-no…no, he’ll be angry if he knows I took the light.” Pulling back abruptly, the shifting of the keys next to him on the floor was enough to alert Marcia and Claire, who jerked up with dual gasps of fright.

Hedwig looks over at them, panicked again.

“I was quiet!” he declared to Adelais, his voice still in a whisper. He looked upset, afraid—it was how she used to look when she was younger and had displeased her mother. Waiting for the yelling or lashing to start, punishment for disobedience. “I-I was quiet!”

Nodding her head calmly, she hoped she conveyed assurance with the small smile she allowed. “You were. It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” Thankfully, the devastated look on his face softened before there was the threat of tears.

Marcia and Claire were whispering Casey’s name, trying to wake up the other girl as well. It drowned out what Hedwig and Adelais were saying to one another, keeping the quiet assurance between the two of them. She half expected Hedwig to leave now that the girls were awake—Casey jolted up with a gasp once she realized there was someone else in the room—but he just turned himself around to lean on the side of the doorframe closest to her.

The upset already forgotten.

Silence stretched for a moment as he smiled at the others. “I’m Hedwig,” he finally declared, so similar to his introduction to her. “I have red socks.”

The simplicity of youthful minds.

His expression shifted then, the smile disappearing as he bit at his lip like someone dying to tell a secret. “He’s on the move.” Looking over his shoulder to where Adelais was still leaning against the wall, the manic smile returned as he ducked his head while supressing a laugh.

Casey’s voice was raspy from sleep. “What?”

The giggle escaped, Hedwig turning his head away. Excited to know something they didn’t. “He’s…on…the…move,” he repeated slowly, drawing out the last word like the last note of a song.

“Mr. Dennis?” Adelais asked quietly, though she already suspected he was talking about someone quite different.

“Nope,” he responded, popping the ‘p’ as grinned at her. Ducking his head, he turned the grin on the other three. “Someone’s coming for you, and you’re not gunna like it.” Next, he faced Adelais. “They make noises in their sleep. I thought you were dead.”

Marcia interrupted quietly, “Tell us.”

He looked like he wanted to, opening and closing his mouth like he couldn’t quite decide what he wanted to say. Instead, he declared “I’m not supposed to say” while turning his head to look out into the other room, where Dennis and Adelais would stand for the few minutes of quiet. “But!” he continued, turning back, “He’s done awful things to people and he’ll do awful things to you. I have blue socks, too.”

“We’re his food?”

Hedwig extended his arms in an ‘I dunno’ gesture, making a face while doing so. He nearly smacked Adelais with his hand as he stretched back but she quickly lifted her leg until her knee was drawn up to her chest. The rush of blood back into her feet set them aflame with pins and needles. She dutifully ignored the sensations.

Casey leaned forward, dawning with realization. “How old are you?”

“Nine,” he declared proudly.

“So you’re not the guy that took us?”

She’s as hopeless as the other two.

Adelais resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Hedwig scoffed at her. When she confirmed that he wasn’t Patricia, either, he made a face. “What are you, blind?” Then to Adelais, slightly quieter, “Is she?”

“No, just ignorant,” she answered just as quietly. “But be careful, she’s smarter than the others.” Hedwig leaned closer to her, nearly falling from against the doorframe, as he met her gaze. Her whispered warning was so quiet, she knew the others couldn’t understand her. He frowned with concentration. “She lies.”

Casey spoke over her, almost drowning out Adelais’s whispered warnings. “You don’t know how they think?”

“No, they don’t tell me much. I just had a hot-dog.” Adelais wasn’t sure if it was the shortness of his attention, or a smart trick to throw someone off the current topic, but the random bits of information was actually clever. Not enough to deter the three teens, but still clever.

“Could you help us, Hedwig?”

Similar to her question earlier, Hedwig recoiled. “No, I’m…I’m not even supposed to be here. I stole the light from Mr. Dennis, but he’ll be back real soon and…I can’t steal the light for too long for he’ll know and get angry.” His concern was real; he knew he would get in trouble for doing someone he was told not to. Yet, the curiosity of a nine-year-old was a powerful thing. “Et cetera.”

Looking between the three on the cots, his eyes darting back and forth, he suddenly reached back and gave Adelais’s leg a playful shove—it was stronger than that of a child, using the strength housed in the adult body he lived within. “See ya!”

“Wait,” Casey blurted out. Hedwig stopped while still crouched at the door, reaching back to grab the doorhandle as he prepared to close it behind him. His attention was caught, however, as he glanced back at Casey.

“Be careful, she’s smarter than the others.”

Looking first at Casey, his eyes eventually drifted over to Adelais. The green of her eyes caught slightly in the light spilling into the room, constricting her pupils to show the ring of hazel around their center. Her lips were slightly thinned, one of the small shows of emotion she allowed. “We heard something,” Casey continued while he was paused in the doorway. “We didn’t understand it before, but now we do.”

Carefully sliding off the cot, she situated herself in the center of the room. Still far from the door, but now in Hedwig’s direct path. The child noticed when Adelais’s eyebrows twitched down—such a small motion it was almost unseen—and remembered Dennis’s face doing the same thing when there was something he didn’t like.

“Do you know what we heard?” Casey asked quietly, baiting him forward.

Adelais knew what she was doing. Hedwig was a child, more easily manipulated when compared to Dennis or Patricia. Dennis scared them too much, and they had only had one encounter with Patricia. Therefore, the nine-year-old made the easier target. It was a sound strategy to try and escape, but the thought of manipulating a child made her stomach clench with discomfort.

He wasn’t just someone pretending to be a child, this was a personality that knew nothing else. It was the same as if she had actually manipulated a little boy that had the body to match the personality. It was clear that he feared the anger of both of the adult personalities, and Casey was setting him up to take the brunt of that anger.

The only reprieve was that they shared a body, there was no way to physically punish him.

But she knew all about emotional and mental torture.

Unfortunately, Hedwig was too young to see those signs and his attention was caught. “What’d you hear?”

“Come here,” Casey prompted. “I’ll whisper it to you.”

Giggling to himself, Hedwig cast one last glance at Adelais before he released the doorhandle. “Okay.” Keeping himself crouched down, he waddled forward on his feet while his hands cradled his knees. Adelais wanted to call him back, to stop what Casey was planning, but perhaps this could be to her advantage as well.

Hedwig stopped just shy of Casey, ducking his head down so she could whisper into his ear.

She couldn’t be sure if it was done on purpose, but Casey’s whisper was too low for Adelais to hear. She was probably mimicking what Adelais had done just a minute before, whispered to Hedwig about Casey. Green eyes keenly watched Casey’s face—trying to read her lips unsuccessfully—and Hedwig’s back. Whatever she whispered was short and prompted Hedwig to lean back.

“You’re a big fibber,” he accused, the playfulness gone from his tone.

“I never lie, Hedwig.”

“She lies.”

His panic was back, bringing with it the slight stutter in his words. “But…but Mr. Dennis said that he followed those two girls for four days, and he said that he knew that they were the ones that-that-that he would want.”

Adelais knew exactly what Casey had told him. It was risky. Casey continued to whisper to him, her voice low and staying between her and Hedwig. But he wasn’t as subtle; listening to Hedwig’s reactions allowed Adelais to piece together what was whispered to him. What lies were spread.

How to counter them.

With the same low, waddling steps, Hedwig backed up a few paces. Putting distance between him and Casey. “N-no…Miss….Miss. Patricia said she’s not mad anymore!” His voice rose with the swell of emotion Casey’s words caused. “She-she sings to me!” Looking to Adelais caused an abrupt swell of anger at Casey to almost choke her. His face was broken and distraught, a tear tracking down his cheek. She wanted to console him.

How often had she cried alone because she had displeased her mother? As a child, she could never understand why they hated her so much.

“I was quiet!” He was yelling now, emotions getting the best of him. “I-I didn’t wake them, you said-you said I did nothing wrong!”

Her body moved before she made the decision, lifting her hands toward him. He waddled forward, still babbling about being quiet, and being good, until Adelais’s chilled fingers gently stroked across his cheeks to collect the tears that fell. She shushed him softly, meant more as a calming sound than to warn him he was being loud. Sniffling strongly, he leaned into her hands as she continued to stroke her thumbs across his cheeks.

“You’re okay, Hedwig. Don’t cry. She’s lying.”

Casey wasn’t about to give up, assuming that the emotional response from him meant that he believed her lie. “I think Miss. Patricia’s still a little mad at you. But if we hurry, we can all get out.”

He pulled from her hands so suddenly they remained in front of her, holding only air. “You lie,” he accused. “She said you lie, you lie!” Adelais only hoped the girls assumed he was talking about Patricia. If they knew she had put the idea in his head, the tension between them would come to a breaking point. “Mr. Dennis made this room safe—it took forever without those nosey-bodies who work here finding out. You can’t get out of here!”

The upset had turned to panic again.

“I have to blow my nose,” he announced before rushing from the small room with the door slamming behind him. Adelais retracted her hands as Casey called out for him, desperately trying to stop him so they could escape. But the lock clicked into place, sealing them inside. She beat Casey to the door, having been right next to it, and watched as Hedwig rushed to the other door and used the set of keys he had been carrying to unlock that one as well.

“Who’s coming?” Marcia was the first to ask, she and Claire getting up from their cot as Casey came up behind Adelais to watch him disappear out the other door.

“No one’s coming,” Claire tried to assure.

“Oh, shut up,” Adelais snapped, glancing over her shoulder as Casey started to pace to the wall near the bathroom. “Clearly someone is going to come here, why else would he follow you two for four days? This wasn’t spur of the moment.”

Claire looked ready to argue again, though there was a distinct hesitation after Adelais’s last enraged reaction. “He said something,” Casey interrupted first, placing her hand on the bare drywall. “He said something about making the room safe.”

Finally understanding Casey’s train of thought, Claire looked around the room. The wall of the bathroom and the ceiling were both covered in bare slabs of drywall, the screws holding them in place still visible. “This is all new drywall.”

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#Hedwig #Hedwig Split #Split movie #Split 2016 #Dennis Split #Dennis #Kevin Wendell Crumb #James McAvoy #James McAvoy Split #James McAvoy Dennis #James McAvoy Hedwig #Original Female Character #Split Imagine #Dennis X OC

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fire-emblem-heroes-supports · 4 years ago

Text

Reinhardt/Panne C-S Support

written by @p-riama

C SUPPORT

Reinhardt: Hm? What is that rustling noise? *rustle, rustle* Reinhardt: It’s coming from the kitchens… *CLANG* Reinhardt: An intruder?! Halt! Panne: ! Reinhardt: You- Panne: Do you have a habit of raising your blade at fellow warriors, man-spawn? Reinhardt: My apologies. I was patrolling this side of the castle until I heard a noise. I thought you a foe. Panne: Well, I’m not. I’m leaving now, anyway. Reinhardt: What were you doing in the kitchens so late at night? Panne: I am famished. I thought to look for something to eat but all there is are potatoes. I guess I will go to sleep with an empty stomach. Good bye. Reinhardt: …Hold on. Panne: What? Reinhardt: Here. Panne: Water. I am not thirsty. Reinhardt: Yes, but water will trick your stomach until next morning. It’s a trick I learned when I was sent to lightly packed, far off missions back home. Panne: Hmph. Alright. I’ll try your tricks, man-spawn. [Reinhardt and Panne have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

Reinhardt: Your name is Panne, correct? Panne: Yes. Reinhardt: … Panne: Do you have something to say? I don’t like being stared at, man-spawn. Reinhardt: I apologize for my terrible manners. It’s just I have never met someone like you. Panne: Do you mean a Taguel? Reinhardt: Is that how your people are called? Then yes. Frankly, I have never met any shape shifters back in Jugdral. Panne: Hmph. Your species probably offed them all. Reinhardt: Pardon? Panne: That’s what happened to my kin back from where I came from, anyway. Humans hunted us for sport and killed us off, one by one while we slept. I am the last living Taguel. Reinhardt: I… How atrocious… I am sorry to hear that. My apologies for digging up a terrible subject. Panne: Hmph. You apologize too much. I don’t need your pity. Reinhardt: I- Pardon me, my lady, but it’s not pity, it’s- Panne: Sympathy, pity, it is the same to me, man-spawn. No words can bring my family and friends back from death. It’s not your problem either, so why bother. Reinhardt: Be that as it may, I still truly- Panne: Enough. I tire of your platitude, man-spawn. If you have nothing else to say, then I’m taking my leave. Good bye. Reinhardt: That could have gone better… [Reinhardt and Panne have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

Reinhardt: Ugh… Damn Loki and her illusions… How did I fall for such tricks? The poison will do me in soon… Panne: You! Reinhardt: Panne? What… What are you doing so far out? Panne: I saw your horse run back to base but you weren’t there. Are you- *sniff* Your blood is poisoned! Reinhardt: You can… smell it? I fell for Loki’s tricks and… Ugh… She cut me with a poisoned dagger while I was dazed… Panne: I know that poison. Stay still and stay awake! Hold on. Reinhardt: Huh. Panne: *chew, chew, chew* *spit* These herbs will drain the bad blood out. Reinhardt: Ngh! AUUGH! Panne: Damn it. If it brings you pain like that… Tsk, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep! Reinhardt: Panne, leave it be… Healers can take care of it and- Panne: Fool! By the time healers come here, you’ll be- Just focus on staying awake. Reinhardt: I… I truly don’t think I can… Panne: You cannot go to sleep. You- I still don’t know your name. Reinhardt: …What? Panne: Your name. You never told me your name. You can’t die until you tell me. Reinhardt: …Reinhardt. My name is Reinhardt. Panne: Very well, Reinhardt. Tell me about your life before you were summoned here. Reinhardt: I was a mage knight in service of House Friege… I was Lady Ishtar’s personal retainer… Until… Until I was sent to battle… Panne: Uh-huh. Do you have family? Reinhardt: Yes… A younger sister… Olwen… Panne, why- Panne: Shush, I’m asking the questions here. How is your sister like? Is she here? Reinhardt: She… She hasn’t been summoned yet… Last time I saw her… We met as enemies… Panne: … Reinhardt: I thought… I thought perhaps she was manipulated by the enemy… But it was I who was misled… Ugh… Panne: If she hasn’t been summoned yet, then she will be. You have to stay awake to see her again. Reinhardt: I don’t… I don’t think she would want to see me again… I raised my sword at her… in the service of a cause… I knew was terrible, and yet… I truly am a fool… It’s no wonder I’m in this state… Maybe it’s… my punishment… Panne: You speak nonsense. Reinhardt: P… Pardon? Panne: You might have made a mistake in your homeland. A mistake that brands you as a despicable enemy. But here it is different. So you have to stay awake and alive until your sister is brought here, so you can talk to her again. Here you don’t fight for tyrants. Here you can have the chance to fight by her side… Not many have that opportunity. Reinhardt: Panne… Panne: …There. Most of the bad blood has been drained out. This cloth will serve as a tourniquet until you can see a healer. Can you stand? Reinhardt: I’m afraid I can’t… Panne: …Alright then. Reinhardt: What are you-

Panne: In my rabbit form, I can run faster than any horse and I’m just as strong. Hold on tight to the scruff of my neck. Don’t pull at my ears. Reinhardt: What? You’d… You’d allow me to… ride on your back? Panne: Just this once. So hop to it. Reinhardt: …Heh. Panne: What? Reinhardt: Nothing… Thank you, Panne. [Reinhardt and Panne have reached support rank A.]

S SUPPORT

Reinhardt: Hello, Panne. Panne: You remain among the living, I see. That’s good. Reinhardt: It’s all thanks to you. You have my infinite gratitude for pulling me out of that predicament. Here. Panne: What is this? Reinhardt: Some healing supplies. You used your materials on me, so this is the least I can do to pay you back. Panne: Reinhardt, I didn’t save your life so you can owe me. Reinhardt: I know. I still want you to have them, though. In case you are stuck in a similar situation as I was. Panne: Hah! I can tell illusion from reality apart from leagues away… But I accept them. Thank you. Reinhardt: … Panne: There you are again, looking like you want to say something to me. Reinhardt: I do, in fact. And I apologize if it’s a strange question. Panne, will you return to your homeland after the war in Askr is over? Panne: I don’t see why not. Reinhardt: And what will you do afterwards? Panne: Who knows. Travel the continents perhaps. It’s not as if I have anyone waiting for me, anyway, so the best thing I can do is wander about by my lonesome. Reinhardt: …Would I be imposing too much if I came with you? Panne: What do you mean? Reinhardt: I… I wish to go with you, Panne. Wherever you go, I want to be there… by your side. Panne: You mean… What about your homeland? And your sister? Reinhardt: I fought and bled for Friege, even if it was for a vile cause. And Olwen… Olwen has grown into her own person. When she comes here, I will use that opportunity to say my proper goodbyes. It’s time for her to live her own life and I my own. Panne: …Reinhardt, promise me you won’t change your mind. Swear on your honor and your sword that you won’t leave me alone. My heart will shatter if I have to be on my own again. Reinhardt: I swear it on my honor, on my sword and on you, Panne. [Reinhardt and Panne have reached support rank S.]

#panne is so in character here i swear it could be canon #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem thracia 776 #male and female heroes #panne #reinhardt #reinhardt x panne #panne x reinhardt #submission

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curious-menace · 4 years ago

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Arkham Scarecrow SFW Alphabet

im really enjoying writing arkham scarecrow. maybe ill do something similar to my random riddler headcanons posts with some scarecrows

long post under the cut

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Uhhh, the short answer is no. Jonathan is almost wholly incapable of what most people would term “affection”. His idea of loving is not using you for his experiments, only giving you small doses to build up your immunity( not that that will stop him from enjoying watching you panic). Jonathan leans heavily on gifts and words of affirmation as his language of love ( assuming he can even feel that emotion). He calls you “my dear” and “my darling” or once “my pumpkin” if he had too much to drink.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jonathan would make a good friend if he could ever be wrangled into admitting it. He’s a complete bastard, but he's a loyal bastard. He always goes above and beyond for his friends but it's always in a “aw shit. My favorite idiot needs help AGAIN?!” begrudging , kind of way. You probably met in university/college and if you've stuck with him this long he’d be hard to get rid of.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He never asks for cuddles and is pretty touch adversed as a rule. Sometimes though, He simply plonks himself in your space and expects you to know what he wants. Usually it's gentle backrubs/strokes like you would with a child. Sometimes he just wants your warmth to sooth his aching body. He’s heavier than he was in Arkham asylum but still very underweight so you shouldn't have too much trouble moving him into a comfortable position.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Absolutely not. I'm not convinced this man owns more than his books and the burlap sack on his back ,never mind a home. He has plans to take the cloudburst on tour, to go cross country and then across the world spreading fear. That would be a little difficult if he had gotham mortgage sending him nasty emails every other day about missed payments. While he can cook and clean, I doubt you'd want to eat anything he made. Ignoring his filthy hands, he's probably laced it with fear toxin or a lethal amount of hot sauce.

His homemade cleaning chemicals are pretty stellar mind you. They can get blood, piss or tears out of anything.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Scarecrow really is a ride or die kinda guy. If you've wormed your way into his life then he’s going to do literally everything and anything to keep you in it. He’s not above making you dependent on him for safety just to keep you around longer. He’s not a total monster to the people he cares about mind you. If you really didn't want to be with him, he’d let you go….eventually.

I'm not sure he fully understands the concept of a “breakup”on his end. He gets that you don't see eachother anymore but I don't think he quite grasps that it's not because one party is dead. There's a 99% chance he’ll use you for his fear toxin experiments as a way of kicking you to the kerb. If you wake up in a ditch with a text that says “we’re through” you should consider yourself lucky.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I canon arkham scarecrow as having been engaged at one point in his life, possibly around the time of origins. I can imagine his partner gave him a “me or the fear toxin” ultimatum which has led to the man you know now. Despite how he looks, how he speaks and acts, he’s still open to the idea of a partner. He’s a loyal man who can't stand backstabbers, he’d appreciate someone like a spouse/husband/wife to have his back. If he decided he wanted to get married he’d propose almost immediately. It might be more of a business or thesis type proposal with lots of talking rather than flowers and wine and you're likely to be married as soon as you said yes.

He has a tiny pumpkin ring saved for the occasion. Something like this (image credit https://www.banggood.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s gentle, in a creepy way unsurprisingly. He was a little stronger than the average man before the incident with croc, all that cardio and fighting with batman made him a skinny legend amongst the rogues for how well he could fight. Now? He couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Mostly he's calm and soft, especially when you wouldn't expect him to be. He can still be an emotionally manipulative person but chances are good you're smart enough to see right through him. Calling him on his bs is actually a good way to endear yourself to him. He likes a challenge and he loves it when people think they can outsmart him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hmm. yes and no. Scarecrow is severely touch adversed, but...It's not like with Riddler; Edward is on the autism spectrum and genuinely gets overstimulated by a lot of physical contact, he doesn't usually enjoy it unless under specific circumstances. Scarecrow WANTS to be hugged and held on occasion, but the mere thought of someone in his personal bubble sends his hackles up.

When he first woke up after the asylum, he clung to you like a lampent. Scarecrow gives and recieves hugs like someone who needs them to breath.Your warmth soothes the aching pain when even drugs couldn't . By the time of Arkham Knight he’s grown cold and distant. His hugs are few and far between and unusually half hearted even when he initiates them. Maybe he’s just preoccupied with batman.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I doubt he’d ever say the words ``i love you” but he’s absolutely going to quote love poetry at you, recite lines from his favorite literature “shall i compare you to a summer's day” and all that. That’s far better than a simple “i love you” right?

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jonathan is sort of one note when it comes to expressing frustration. Coffee machine not working? Melt it down into fear toxin vials. Line at the grocery store? Gas everyone out of his way. He doesnt get mad, he gets even. He’s not a super jealous person, he’s probably the most secure in himself out of all the rogues in Gotham bar Selina and ivy. But when something does hit his jealousy bone just right? LORD HE IS TERRIBLE.

Unless you were the instigator, you are 100% safe but the poor soul who made the mistake of flirting with you will never see the light of day again.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He can't really kiss to be honest. He lacks a lot of lip tissue and tongue dexterity for deep smooching. He’s quite happy to give you little pecks on the cheek but anywhere else will get sloppy and he's not a fan of that. Jonathan has actually started to bump you with his head like a cat in lieu of kisses. Rare as it is, when he wants kisses he has a tendency to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or rest his head on your shoulder. He likes to be kissed on the cheek , forehead and top of his head. Most other places are covered in scars and lack the sensitivity to enjoy it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes to scare kids. It's not as malicious as it is with adults, he just likes to yell boo at them, smiling as they scream and giggle and run away. It's probably the most innocent he’ll act around other people. He still doesnt like them per say but he’ll tolerate them in small doses.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Scarecrow , like most rogues, is not a morning person. He doesn't sleep well and he is hella grumpy when he first wakes up. Expect to watch him shuffle around his hideout like a zombie, still wearing a quilt and his dressing gown as he complains about everything from the weather to the loud creaking of the floorboards. You should present him with food and coffee and then retreat to a safe distance until he’s fully awake, otherwise he’s liable to turn on his grumpy old man routine on you. If he's feeling particularly sore or needy, he’ll ask you to help change his bandages and dressings .

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It really depends on what he feels like in the moment. Sometimes he’ll leave you at home while he goes out to cause general mischief, sometimes he’ll bring you along as a look out. Sometimes it's a low-key night at the hideout reading and sometimes it's a caffeine fueled frenzie of experimentation and lab work with you as his trusty lab assistant. He doesn't sleep well at night, the aches keep him up. If he were ever to actually go to bed he might find that you make a great pillow.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As much as he resents people having the upperhand with information, it's hard not for people to see his past. His scars are so easily visible, inside and out. He doesn't talk about his past unless prompted. But if you do he’ll quite happily answer all your questions; he’s not afraid of discussing it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Jonathan is a very patient man, not just when it comes to revenge.It takes quite a lot to make him fly off the handle and he cools off again quickly. That's not to say he doesn't hold a grudge like he’s being paid for it, only that it's more of a simmering anger rather than a boiling one.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers most things about you, he has an excellent memory. But that being said he never lets on that he knows these things. He likes to hear you talk about the things that interest you, even if you've told him about it before. Watching you wax lyrical about your chosen subject makes him feel close to you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I don't know if it's a favorite or even a positive memory but when he first woke up from surgery after croc you were lying beside him. He was understandably confused, maybe even afraid, but seeing you there brought him great comfort. He didn't know what was happening because of all the meds, but as long as you were with him he was confident things would work out for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He means well, you should always keep that in mind before you snap at him. He brought you to the arkham knights HQ to protect you from his plans, he’s given you micro doses of fear toxin to build your resistance and by the time of arkham knight you can hardly move for the amount of guards he has following you around. He’s overbearing bordering on controlling but I think it's because he simply can't admit the thought of losing you scares him, even just a little. You aren't a rogue, you don't know Batman like they do. He just needs to keep you safe from batman, from the police and from the ugly world outside.

Given how weak he’s been viewed practically all his life, I believe he’d resent the accusation he needed protecting. deep in his mind he knows no one man is an island. He appreciates little helps even if he won't say it. He doesn't need protection per say but If nothing else, after being injected with his new toxin, he's going to need someone who’s corpus mentis in his corner for court and medical proceedings.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

His idea of a perfect date is you two working on your respective projects in comfortable silence, maybe a trip to the museum if he feels like the exercise. Obviously that suits some people down to the ground, myself included, but he gets that it's not for everyone. He’s probably ok with you planning the activities provided you warn him beforehand.

Given everything he’s been planning for batman, things like important dates and even everyday tasks have a tendency to get lost in the fray. He's not doing it on purpose, He’s glad to celebrate these things with you if you remind him, He's just got his priorities in a funny order.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He shuffles his feet when he walks and is one of those people who always has conversations in doorways. You can never be sure he isn't aware of these habits and is doing them on purpose. He also used to smoke quite heavily but has since given it up due to his throat and lung issues.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It's sort of a mixed bag with him. On the one hand he knows he’s ugly, that's the point. You're MEANT to be scared looking at him, he’s leaning into it. But on the other hand his “look” is a carefully maintained visage; if it slips it might lose the intended effect. He might not be as scary to look at or worse, people might look at him in pity. It's not ordinary vanity or narcissism but yes, he is concerned with maintaining the way he looks

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The concept of feeling whole is somewhat lost on him; He’s clearly missing a few screws even in his most lucid moments. That said even in the depths of madness brought on by his toxin, he still notices your absence. Still incredibly distressed In his cell in blackgate, he can often be heard crying out to you for comfort but is lacking the wherewithal to understand why you're not there.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Given that he has pretty extensive facial injuries, eating is pretty difficult for him. He used to really enjoy bagels and cubanos from gothams many deli’s. His favorite was a kosher deli in The Cauldron, before Joker ruined it. They’ve since rebuilt and while he can't eat many solids anymore , he still enjoys their matzo soup and smoothies.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Like most of the rogues, he absolutely can't stand bullies.He also can't stand physically aggressive people; if you're going to even TRY and intimidate him maybe you could use your words like someone with more than 2 brain cells to rub together, rare as that is in gotham. Back when he was a psychiatrist he hated people who were chronically late. Not his patients, most of the time it wasn't their fault due to executive dysfunction or traffic, but people who kept HIM back and made HIM late were the bane of his existence.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Crane is a back sleeper who snores because of his damaged septum.He knows he makes a noise akin to a flip flop in a lawn mower but there is literally nothing he can do about it besides sleep on his stomach. He squirms around a lot in his sleep so even if he starts on his stomach, he’ll be on his back snoring like a dead horse in no time. The only thing that could keep him frontwise is if he were to sleep on you and have you hold him in place.

#Sfw alphabet #scarecrow #jonathan crane #headcanons #scarecrow headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff

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kate837 · 4 years ago

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I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

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Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

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Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

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"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

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Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

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First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

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The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

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The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

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The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

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Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

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#part two?#ILY #ily #I Love You #im back #blindspot au fics

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years ago

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Jon Snow x reader

Pairing: Jon Snow x young reader (platonic)

Summary: reader is a captured wilding and is forced to be Jon's steward. Shes tough and stubborn but one day something happens and her feelings for the crow begin to change.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, attempted assault, mentions of rape. Mentions of blood.

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A/n Hello my loves! Just a quick note about this story. Reader is a young teenager, also her relationship with Jon is non romantic. Hes protective of her like a brother. I hope you like it!

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"Whats your name girl?" you wanted to roll your eyes but refrained as the new commander of the nights watch, barely a man in your opinion tried to be intimidating in a room full of equally unintimatading men.

As dumb as they looked they still outnumbered you like 100 to 1. So you begrudgingly decided to answer.

"Y/n"

The lord commander, or more commonly known as Jon snow the bastard of winterfell, nodded once, satisfied that he finally gotten a word out of you.

"Well y/n, seeing as your people are gone-"

"Dead you mean" you couldn't help but bite out. "You crows saw to that"

Those damn crows had raided your village and slaughtered everyone save yourself.

"You're lucky we didn't gut you along with the rest of those filthy wildlings" one man spat out stepping forward but was halted by the commander, "Enough!"

"We had no choice, they trespassed and started to cause trouble-"

"Trespassed?! That land has been ours for generations, and just because some rich folk came and decided to put up a wall and cast us out, we're the criminals?!" You felt your anger rise again. "We didnt do anything wrong! We were just trying to survive like everyone else in this stupid godsforsaken world!"

The lord commander sighed with fustration, he tried to have patience, after all she was more or less a child. Well a child with the mouth of a 40 year old sailor.

"I'm sorry y/n, but there are rules, and they broke those rules"

"Rules?" You scoffed, "And who decided on those rules hmm? Certainly not the people who lived here, so tell me Snow, why the hell should any of us listen to rules that were forced on us?! In our eyes you are the enemy. We were just people, trying to not starve and freeze to fucking death and you slaughter us like animals!" You felt the burn behind your eyes as you remembered the screams and smell of blood. But you would die before you cried in front of these heartless butchers.

"I'm sorry that you had to witness it, but you have a choice to make now" he looked into your eyes with seriousness. "You can either be sent back beyond the wall or..." he paused hesitantly, "you can serve as a steward here"

You almost laughed, "Are you drunk Snow?!? Or do you actually think those are fair options?"

"Considering I'm already bending the rules by letting you live, yes I do" he said firmly.

You let out a humorless laugh, "So you think throwing me into the wilderness alone is fair? Or I suppose making me a slave to the nights watch is somehow better?" You glared at the men around you. Half of them fithly pigs who would no doubt use you whenever they got the chance.

"No harm would come to you if you stayed, of this you have my word. And you wouldn't be a slave. You'd be my steward."

But I wouldnt be allowed to leave, so a slave... but it's either that or what's beyond the wall.. I wouldn't last a day alone... after a while of silently debating I looked up into the killer's eyes, and sealed my fate with a nod.

************************************

The first week was hell. All you wanted to do was murder every crow you saw.

If you had poison you would've wasted no time spilling it in the stew you had to carry to commander stupids room every evening.

He acted like he cared, asked about if you had enough to eat and if anyone had been bothering you. But you ignored him. He was just trying to get you to trust him, and then he would turn on you. It was all a sick game, you were sure of it.

Another few weeks passed in a similar manner, he gave up on trying to make conversation which you were ever thankful for.

Not having anyone to talk to was the worst part. Your days were horribly dull. You cleaned, did laundry, prepped meals and repeat. Other than glares no one had messed with you which you were kinda disappointed in to be honest. You would take any excuse to blacken and bruise those ugly mugs of theirs...

Apparently the gods had a sense of humor because the next day you found yourself cornered by two of them.

"You should be on your knees thanking us girl" one of them sneered.

"We coulda left you for dead with those other savages but we didnt. And all you've been is given attitude."

"It ain't right"

"No it ain't" they agreed.

While they yapped you were mentally figuring out how you were gonna fight your way out of this one. Three against one wasnt exactly fair, and it's not like snow let you carry around your weapons. And the fact that you were far away, gathering firewood when they cornered you wasn't ideal.

Ugly man number one tsked when he saw your wandering eyes, "no use screamin girl, no ones gonna hear you"

"What the fuck do you want, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I dont have to look at your ugly faces" you couldn't help but want to anger them.

The bald one shoved your shoulder against the wall, on instinct you swooped your arm over his and brought it down, severing the hold and then you kneed him in the groin...hard.

"You bitch!" He faltered and you took that opportunity to try and get away. Ugly number 2 grabbed the cloth of your shirt and pulled back but you quickly shoved an elbow hard into his face.

While you were distracted, the third man, let's call him horse face, pulled your hair harshly until you were tumbling to the ground with a grunt.

It didnt take long for the other 2 to recover and help horse face pin you down. P

A deep rooted panic spread across your body. "Get the fuck off me!" You tried to hide the fear in your voice as you thrashed.

"Shut up wilding whore!" You heard the sharp smack before you felt the pain blossom against your cheek.

"You got the mouth of a slut, now let's see if you've got the body of one" your eyes widened and you felt a rough hand slide under your tunic.

"S-stop it! I swear I'll kill-" he shut you up with another sharp slap. You could now taste copper in your mouth.

"I swear to God if you say one more word I'll cut out that sharp tongue of yours" he pulled his knife out of its sheath and pressed the cold metal against your cheek. You winced as he pressed in and you knew he had broken skin.

You tried to be strong but you were terrified. These men were going to rape you and you didnt have the strength like you thought you did to stop them.

You closed your eyes praying to whatever gods were out there that this would not happen. But the gods were cruel. They had allowed the crows to wipe out the only people you had to call family. No they weren't yours by blood, but they had taken you in and cared for you. Taught you how to hunt, how to fight, and now this is how your life was going to end.

"That's a good girl" he took your silence as compliance and started to kiss down your neck.

You shivered in disgust and fear, one hand placed firmly on your neck keeping you in place and the other was exploring beneath your shirt.

You didnt want to give up, you wanted to fight. You didnt want to be raped and killed. How would you ever face your family in the after life if you didnt put up a decent fight. Taking a deep breathe , with the risk of losing your tongue looming in your mind, you clenched your fists and let out your last shred of hope,

"GHOOOOOST" you hoped the wolf you had come to befriend could hear through the walls.

"WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU" he clamped a crushing hand over your mouth.

"W-we should g-go, what if that mutt heard?" Horse face looked around nervously.

"Shut up Pud, no way that he can hear all the way in here"

"But-"

"Oh for god sakes, hold her down and be quiet!" He motioned for horse face to clamp my mouth shut instead whilst he began unbuckling his trousers.

"Before I cut that pretty tongue of yours, I'm gonna see how it feels around my c-AHH FUCK" a giant streak of white crossed your vision.

"HELP YOU IDIOTS, DONT JUST STAND THERE, FUCK!" You heard growling and tearing sounds.

The mens hold on you immediately loosened and you took that chance to sit up and see what the hell was going on. And when you saw the familiar white fur and black eyes you almost cried in relief.

Ghost had launched himself at your assailant and was currently biting away at his arm. The other two turned tail quick and made for the door, thinking they could escape, but what they did not expect was a very angry lord commander blocking their way.

"Ghost" he called back his wolf who growled at the men before walking back and standing beside his master.

You couldn't tell whose eyes were more threatening, the wolf, or the bastard wolf..

Before you knew what was happening several crows flooded the room and arrested the bleeding man and his friends.

The commanders attention was now on you. You rolled onto you knees and tried to stand up but found that someone had traded your legs for jelly cakes.

"Y/n" you immediately looked down, not wanting him to see how afraid you were.

You were surprised at how soft the commanders voice was now compared to two seconds ago when he ordered they be taken to the prisons. "Are you alright?" He knelt down in front of you and reached a hand out to your face.

You flinched and he hesitantly pulled back, "Its alright now, your safe, please... let me help you" he said almost pleading.

You don't know what came over you but something was telling you that it was ok to trust him so you nodded.

This time when he reached a hand to lift your face up you didnt pull away.

You met his eyes and found anger and regret in them, "I'm sorry"

You were instantly confused, "For what?" You questioned as he continued to inspect your injuries.

"I said that no harm would come to you, I shouldve kept a closer eye on you" he apologized with a look of deep regret.

You didnt know what to say. Why was he being so nice to you?! It didnt make any sense, weren't the crows supposed to be the bad ones? But he saved you...well ghost did lead them to you so you really should be thanking him but...

You didnt really know how to respond so you just stayed quiet. He moved to help you up, gentle hands supporting you. When it was clear you couldn't stand on your own he asked if you would let him help you to maester aemon.

Reluctantly you nodded and was surprised when he swooped down and gently lifted you up like those dumb princesses you heard about in fairy tales.

You thought he was just gonna help you walk with a slung over arm or something.... if you weren't so exausted you probably would've been way more embarrassed.

Wordlessly he carried you through the halls and into Maester Aemons infirmary. He set you down on the bed with care and said he would be back to check on you later. The maester was already by your side examining your injuries.

You dont know what came over you, but before you knew what was happening your mouth opened and halted the lord commander through the door.

"Thank you snow..." you were glad he was facing the door, you were sure your face was bright red.

But if he had been facing you, you would've seen his smile.

Maybe not all the crows were so bad after all...

********

Ok soo it was kind of short I know, but my idea was for this to be a sort of prologue to a mini series of Jon and the reader. Please let me know if that's something you guys would want! Thanks for reading🥰

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