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pixiegrl · 4 years

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You Are My Horizon

Jack comes to visit Rian at work. Rian's hopelessly in love.

Alright lets take it from the top:

Bet you never saw ATL fic coming from me? Well, here it is. Once again, this is part of a larger fic I'm writing. I'm blaming Rian's v-day thirst trap and Jack just being, you know, Jack for writing this. The only important thing to know going into this is that Rian and Jack are dating, Jack is trans, and that Rian works at a tattoo parlor owned by Ashton and Calum. The tattoo parlor is across from the flower show Luke (also trans) and Michael (non-binary) own.

Second: big thanks to @tigerteeff for whom I write all trans content. Thanks for listening to me yell about Trans Jack he is a special boy and I love him. Thanks to @lifewasradical @cakelftv @blackbutterfliescal and @staticsounds for listening to me yell about this fic (and the flower shop/tattoo parlor verse) and telling me how emo in a good way this is. I love you all dearly.

on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500365

Rian’s sketching out the tattoo he’s designing when Jack comes into the back area of the parlor. He sighs dramatically, dropping himself into Rian’s lap and straddling him.

“Babe,” Jack whines.

“Hello to you too. Who’s watching Cam?”

“The puppy can be left alone for like an hour. I’ve been home all day. I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning.”

“That was hours ago. It’s like almost 5:00pm. I missed you,” Jack says, dropping his head down, resting it under Rian’s chin. Rian sighs, putting his pencil down and running his hands under Jack’s shirt. Jack sighs, pressing a kiss to Rian’s neck, easing into the touch. Rian likes Jack, all long legs and lean muscle, the contrast he is to Rian himself. He’s dyed his hair recently, a soft shade of blonde that contrasts with the dark hair of his beard. Rian remembers how excited Jack was about the beard when he started growing it, crowing that getting the hysterectomy finally helped him grow the hair that being on T didn’t. Jack’s painfully handsome these days, angled cheekbones and jaw framed by his beard, comfortable in his own skin. Jack has a soft smile on his face, as he pulls back, kissing Rian on the lips softly.

They trade soft kisses for a few moments before Jack pulls back, grinning mischievously.

“No,” Rian says.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“You may not suck my dick at my place of work.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sanitizing the whole workstation.”

Jack sighs dramatically, flopping onto Rian, “But you have to do that anyway.”

“And I’m not letting you get this place dirty. Or risking someone walking in on us Jack, these are my co-workers.”

“Spoil sport,” Jack says. Rian huffs a laugh, letting Jack steal his snapback and put it on. He snuggles into Rian’s side, watching him sketch out the flowers.

“What’s this one?”

“Tattoo for a client. She wants a whole bouquet for flowers for her family.”

“Isn’t that Sierra’s thing? The flowers?”

“She wants it in watercolor.”

“So your speciality.”

“My speciality,” Rian says. Jack hums, getting a hand underneath Rian’s shirt, tracing his abs lightly as he keeps watching Rian. He has to be uncomfortable, at the angle he’s at but Jack makes no move to change his position.

“Why don’t you head home? I have to finish this sketch up and it’s not going to be very interesting for you,” Rian says, after Jack shifts for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“I don’t want to head home though. Wanna go with you.”

“You drove your car here Jack. You’d be going home without me anyway.”

“I don’t want to go home and wait around for you though. I want to wait here, with you. I want to spend time with you,” Jack says, pouting lightly. Rian sighs, heart soft. He ducks his head down pressing a kiss to Jack’s temple. Jack laughs, scrunching his nose up. He rests his head on Rian’s shoulder, watching as Rian works on the sketch around Jack’s long limbs.

“You know, I didn’t see myself being 32,” Jack says, just barely above a whisper. Rian stops what he’s doing, turning his attention to the boyfriend in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. At 15 I didn’t see myself making it to 20. I was a depressed teen, self-harming because I hated the way I looked and that I couldn’t understand what was going on. I thought I’d kill myself before 20 trying to figure it out. Then, I was 20 and I couldn’t see myself at 25. I finally had the words to understand what I was feeling and who I was, but then you’re going through therapists and doctors, people are giving you papers and reports and explanations and telling you how much money it all is to just be yourself. I thought I’d die under the stress of it all, the constant feeling of just having to fight to be myself,” Jack says, shrugging.

He picks at the edge of Rian’s shirt, pulling at a loose thread there, head resting on Rian’s shoulder, nose touching his neck. Rian puts his pencil down, stroking his hand over Jack’s back, letting Jack nuzzle into him. They sit there for a few moments in silence before Rian finally works up the courage to ask Jack his question.

“What about at 25?” Rian asks, soft, squeezing Jack’s hip lightly.

“I got the right therapist. I went on T. They finally approved things and I had the money for my top surgery. There was light at the end of the tunnel. And then I met you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I love who I am, don’t get me wrong. I love being trans and I love being myself and I’m happy with myself. It took me so long to get there, but I love myself. But it’s hard, when you’re two months out of top surgery, when your voice still cracks, when you’re worried about how everyone else will see you, to picture someone loving you the way you love yourself. Especially when they look like you,” Jack says. He tilts his head up, looking at Rian, eyes a little wet. Rian laughs, breathless, at the idea of it all.

He remembers meeting Jack with the sort of clarity that only comes with the certainty of knowing that this is your person, with the knowledge to capture this moment, so you can tell your family, your friends, write it into your wedding vows, tell it to your children. Alex had invited him to the back to school brunch he hosted with Lisa every year before school started. Rian had grumbled about it, considering he’s not a teacher what does it matter, but Alex has insisted that as his oldest friend Rian should come (he found out later Alex had intentionally done it to try and set him and Jack up, but Rian can’t really be mad about it). He’d found Jack, with his grown out emo fringe and home dyed red hair, standing by the music, trying to hijack it to play Blink-182 and complaining that Alex never let him have his way. Rian had found himself hopelessly enamored, listening to Jack rant about music and the merits of not teaching Romeo and Juliet to bored teens when Shakespeare has better plays. Rian had been so caught up in what Jack was saying, he hadn’t even noticed brunch had ended until Alex kicked them both out. Brunch had led to late lunch, led to dinner, led to Rian taking Jack for ice cream just so he didn’t have to leave, giving Jack his number and waiting for a phone call. Rian doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he wasn’t enamored by Jack, hopelessly in love with him from the moment Jack had demanded to see Rian’s Blink-182 tattoo.

“What do you mean someone who ‘look like me’?”

“Handsome, masculine, rugged. You’re a tattoo artist and you work out and you’re like the kind of guy I wanted to be when I was a teen except I’m not. I’m me and there’s nothing wrong with me, but like compared to you. I’m the dorky English teacher. I’m all tall and lanky and stuff.”

“I love dorky English teacher Jack.”

“I know you do. You look at me with such love and adoration it hurts sometimes. The first time you told me you loved me I went home and cried,” Jack says. He’s sitting up now, arms draped over Rian’s shoulders, tears in his eyes. Rian, reaches up, brushing them away.

“You did what?” Rian asks, quiet.

“I cried. I cried because you were everything teenage Jack dreamed of and couldn’t have. You loved me and loved me and you didn’t care that my voice cracked or about the scars or about anything else that made me feel self-conscious at the time because it was new and fresh. The first time you called me your boyfriend I didn’t know what to do. I felt so special and loved. You just loved me and it felt so real. And I was 25 and for the first time, I could picture myself at 30, at 40, at 50 because I could picture my life, I could picture sharing my life with you. And now I’m 32 and I want to tell teenage Jack that it’s worth it, all the waiting is worth it because you’re here. You’re here and I love you so much Ri,” Jack says. He’s crying now, eyes red, nose red. Rian pulls him into a hug, realizes he’s crying too.

“Well, I love you. You’re a hurricane and I never expected to fall in love the way I did with you, but god did I. I was so worried that first day if I let you go home, if I let you leave, you’d forget all about me. Except you kept calling me and texting me and then you practically moved into my house and I didn’t want to let you go. We have a home, a life, a dog. It’s everything I pictured when I was 17 and realized I liked guys too.”

“Guess we’re just stuck together,” Jack says, sniffling. Rian laughs, a little wet, pulling Jack into a hug.

“Guess we are.”

“Think Ash will let you leave early? I wanna go home now and I don’t wanna wait for you.”

“Yeah. I don’t have any more appointments and I can take the sketches home.”

“Good. I think we deserve some pizza and white claws,” Jack says, solemnly. He’s smiling though and Rian’s hopelessly in love with him.

It isn’t till the drive home, which Rian barely managed to get to because Jack kept kissing him against his car, refusing to just let Rian get in the car and drive home so they could have dinner and cuddle, that Rian wonders what’s stopping him from making this permanent. They live together, they have a dog, Jack’s all but told Rian he sees them as forever and Rian feels the same way. What’s stopping Rian from just proposing?

He takes the thought with him for the next week, searching for rings on his off time, trying to get other people’s opinions on what Jack might like until Rian finally decides on a simple black band for the ring. He ends up in the flower shop the next week, deciding that Jack deserves nice flowers for a proposal.

Luke is at the counter, fixing up a floral arrangement when Rian comes in. He looks up, surprised, blushing a little. Rian’s not dumb, he knows Luke has a crush on him. He also knows Luke has a crush on Jack and a major crush on Ashton, so he’s pretty sure Luke is just falling for anyone he thinks is cute until Ashton finally kisses him.

“Rian, hi! What brings you in? More flowers for the shop?”

“Flowers for Jack. I want to propose and I thought the sweetest man deserved some flowers to go with it.”

Luke looks at Rian in awe, lips parted in an “o.”

“You’re going to propose?” Luke whispers. Rian furrows his brow, confused at Luke’s surprise, until he remembers that Luke’s trans too. Luke’s trans and he’s probably having the same reaction Jack did the first time he and Rian went to pride and Jack saw other people like them together, the idea that they weren’t alone. It softens Rian’s heart even more. He gets the older brother affection Jack has for Luke and Michael, the need to care for them. It’s hard not to when Luke’s staring at him, all wide blue eyes and open wonder.

“Yeah. Figured my boyfriend of seven years deserves to be my husband forever. Have some roses for it?” Rian says. Luke beams, hurrying around the counter, pulling out red roses to make a bouquet, bouncing with excitement. It’s infectious, making Rian even more excited to propose to Jack, seeing how excited Luke is, smiling the whole time. Ashton let him out of work early too, so he could be home to make dinner with Jack when he gets back from school.

Rian’s anxious the whole drive home, flowers in the passenger seat, tapping his hands nervously on the steering wheel. What if he’s overthinking this whole thing? What if he’s fucking up the best thing in his life by proposing? What if all the nice words Jack said don’t mean marriage, they just mean staying together? What if Rian’s about to make the stupidest decision of his life?

Jack’s car is already in the driveway when Rian gets back. He wasn’t expecting Jack to beat him home. It makes the pit in his stomach open wider, makes him even more anxious. He drops his keys five times before he finally manages to get them into the lock and open the door.

“Ri?” Jack calls when Rian’s through the door. Camden comes sprinting through the house, barking excitedly at Rian until he picks him up, holding him in one arm while trying to keep the roses out of the way.

“Yeah. You’re home early.”

“Took the rest of my shit home. Why the fuck should I grade bad essays on The Odyssey at my desk when I can grade them on our couch while you yell at Jeopardy.”

“I don’t yell at Jeopardy,” Rian says, offended.

“Yes you do babe,” Jack says. Rian drops his bag by the front of the kitchen, placing the flowers on the counter and Cam on the floor. Jack’s back is turned to him, watching the chicken quesadillas he’s making in the pan intensely. Rian sneaks up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and running his hands over Jack’s hip bones, resting his chin on Jack’s shoulder. Jack sighs, leaning back into the touch.

“Hi,” Rian says softly, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“Hi,” Jack says, turning his head to get a kiss from Rian. He glances over Rian’s shoulder, perking up when he notices the flowers on the counter.

“You bought flowers?”

“I did.”

“For your other lover?” Jack teases, abandoning the pan to turn around in Rian’s arms, kiss him softly. Rian smiles, tugging Jack closer, kissing his lips, his neck. Jack laughs, squirming in his arms.

“You can’t kiss me like that while I’m cooking. We’ll start a fire,” Jack says. Rian rolls his eyes, letting Jack play with his hair.

“I missed you,” Rian says softly. Jack snorts.

“It was only 8 hours babe,” he teases.

“You didn’t text me today. I’m used to you texting me.”

“The teens were being wild today. I don’t remember this much drama when I was their age,” Jack says. Rian rolls his eyes, pulls Jack in for a hug.

Jack eventually wiggles from Rian’s hold, turning back to the stove. Camden’s flopped down next to them, sighing heavily. Rian swallows, hand in his pocket fingering the ring box.

“Hey Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you marry me?” Rian asks, sinking to one knee, pulling the box out.

“Very funny Ri,” Jack says, turning to face him. Whatever else he was going to say dies as he takes in the sight of Rian on the floor.

“Will you marry me?”

“Holy shit,” Jack breathes out.

“I’m not the English teacher, but I have a whole speech planned. You know, the moment I met you, I knew. I saw you standing in the corner of Alex’s living room, yelling at him to pick better music and I knew. I wanted to commit everything to memory because that was the memory I wanted to tell everyone at our wedding. I’ve known since the minute you demanded to see my tattoo in front of everyone and practically stripped me shirtless that I wanted to marry you. You’re it for me Jack. When I was 17 and scared shitless at the idea that I liked men, I didn’t know what to do. I never felt confident or comfortable enough to come out, to be myself, to picture myself with someone like you. And then I met you and it’s all I could picture. You made me comfortable with myself, happy with myself. Your endless love and support and just being reminds me everyday how lucky I am to know you, to have met you, to have you love me. You’ve never given a shit about my depression or the way I am or my anxiety. You just remind me of brighter days, of the idea that I’m allowed to have this, to have your love. I can’t picture my life without you, without loving you. I want forever. So, will you marry me?” Rian asks.

“Yes, what the fuck yes! Of course I’ll fucking...come here!” Jack shouts, dragging Rian up to him. He pulls Rian in for a kiss, bumped noses and teeth because they’re too excited to kiss properly. Jack leans back, tears running down his cheeks, smiling widely.

“I was worried for a minute,” Rian jokes, pulling the ring from the box and sliding it onto Jack’s finger. Jack holds his hand out admiring it.

“Like I would say no. Maybe all the coffee has fired your brain cells,” Jack teases. He turns to Rian, kissing him again, softer this time.

“You never know.”

“Hell would freeze over before I said no to marrying you. You’re the love of my life,” he says, quietly. Rian smiles, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Hey, is something burning?” Rian asks after a few moments, when he realizes he smells smoke.

“Oh shit!” Jack yells, turning frantically to fix the burning quesadillas, fanning the smoke to stop it from setting off the smoke detector. Rian laughs, helpless in the face of Jack’s panic, Camden’s distressed barking. It’s perfect, it’s everything Rian’s ever wanted in life. It’s everything he’s wanted since he met Jack at Alex’s brunch. It’s the life he’s always wanted.

#all time low #dawkat #rian dawson #jack barakat #whom the fuck am i writing atl fic #we'll return to our 5sos bullshit momentarily #for now you can all have #trans jack barakat #soft boyfriends in love #camden the puppy #a proposal who's surprised not me #curating trans 5sos and atl fic is my thing now #i blame rian's thirst trap and the way jack looks for this fic #i fell down a rabbit hole who am ii #my writing #self harm mention #body image mention

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sodone-withlife · 4 years

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i lost a friend (i lost my mind)

Criminal Minds Fic Part Three

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: character death, canon-typical violence, mental instability (I’m reluctant to name a specific disorder or condition)

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3, and this was my first whumpfic in this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. this is canon-compliant until after 12.01 The Crimson King

“What do I regret? I regret that we just took it as it was, that we didn’t look harder.”

Rossi thought about how he ended up in this situation, bulletproof vest on as he faced the one person he never expected to be at the other end of his gun, that he might have to take down.

He met the kid nearly twenty years ago on the Womb Raider case and immediately recognized raw potential when the kid told him about what he gathered from the dumpsite. They kept in contact even after Rossi went back to Quantico, and he spent the next year trying to get him to apply to become a profiler. The kid did eventually join them in Quantico, and he quickly proved to be a quick study with an incredible intuitive ability.

He ended up retiring a few months after the kid joined, but he kept in contact and they met for dinner a few times. While he wrote books, the kid became unit chief, all the while expanding the BAU to involve more than just a few profilers in a cramped cave that had been their office.

When he rejoined the team, he watched as the kid—he’ll always be ‘the kid’ to him, no matter how good his glare got over the years—struggled to reconcile the failure of his marriage and his own feelings of being a failure as a father.

He watched as the kid obsessively hunted the Boston Reaper, turned to self-blame when seven people were found shot dead in a bus, as the kid realized the killer was in front of them the whole time, as he reacted to the news of Foyet’s escape.

He worried as the kid didn’t turn up when called, as they found him in the hospital after getting stabbed nine times, as his family were put into protective custody, as he walked into a confrontation unarmed and managed to save a child the day he returned from medical leave.

He watched as the kid obsessed and worked himself to the bone over the Reaper, as he stepped down and put Morgan in charge, as the team raced to find Foyet before he could get to the kid’s family.

He watched as he found the kid savagely hitting a dead body, as he found him later clinging onto the body of the woman he had loved, as the kid turned into a shell of himself while trying to be a good father for his son.

He watched as the kid tried to remain the unwavering pillar of strength for the team, as he was sent to the other side of the world away from his family for half a year, as he came back from Pakistan looking much too thin for a man his size and faced a wall of anger and betrayal.

He watched as the kid slowly found love again, as he tried to help Reid get through what he himself went through just over two years ago, as he tried to help his estranged brother get out of a mess of drugs and spikings.

He watched as the kid collapsed on the conference room floor and had to be rushed to the hospital, as George Foyet managed to kill him twice as he flatlined in the ambulance and in the operating room.

He watched as the kid tried to help solve Gideon’s murder, as he ended things with his new love.

He watched as the kid ended up on the other end of a serial killer’s obsession, as he hallucinated the whole team getting killed in front of him, as he nearly shot and killed Reid as he came in through the door.

He watched as the kid struggled to hide his terrors, as he tried to eliminate the threat against two of his teammates, as he tried to stop Morgan from doing what he had done six years ago in a frenzy that only resulted in the love of his life getting killed, as he was arrested at gunpoint in front of his son.

He watched as the kid tried not to let seeing the victim with his name carved into her forehead get to him, as he tried not to go out of his mind in worry about his son while he was stuck in a snowstorm, as he tried to keep everything inside in the months that followed, as he went through his daily life without really living.

Now, a memory of a conversation he had with Gideon rose to the forefront of his mind. Rossi hadn’t questioned it then, but now he wondered if Gideon saw this outcome, all those years ago.

He wondered if Gideon saw this when the kid came in all those years ago, absolutely smitten with his wife and yet hiding darkness deep inside him, when the kid easily slipped in and out of the minds of the worst humanity has to offer.

A year ago, just a day after Hotch was admitted into the hospital after being subjected to whatever torture Peter Lewis managed came up with, Prentiss had returned to the BAU. Hotch was going to be on leave for quite some time, given the nature of the drugs he had inhaled and what had happened when the team rescued him.

He remembered confessing his worries to her, that Hotch wouldn’t make it through to the other side with this one, that Hotch’s too-brilliant mind (brilliant not in the way that Reid was, but in the way that a prosecutor turned SWAT turned profiler’s brain was) would figure out a way to end it all, even though he was on suicide watch.

He remembered one early morning, a few weeks after Hotch had been discharged, when Prentiss was suddenly called into a meeting with the Director. He remembered seeing her sprinting back into the office, abandoning all professionalism as she stormed into the office next to his.

He remembered freezing at the doorway. It was bare of any signs of the previous owner: the heavy law books, the pictures, the awards, the small mementos from the team—they were all gone.

He missed the others’ reactions as they read the last words the—now former—unit chief left for them as he left the office and drove to Hotch’s apartment, only to find it completely bare with an envelope left on the door with Rossi’s name on it.

He remembered the days that followed, as Garcia and Reid desperately tried to search for the man who had completely dropped off the face of the earth, as Prentiss tried to fill Hotch’s shoes for the team.

He remembered JJ asking him about Jack and the pure, unfettered sadness that he let show on his face.

He remembered the horror saw in the others when he quietly told them that the ten-year-old had collapsed at school six months ago, soon after the DOJ fiasco, while Hotch was stuck in a blizzard in the middle of a case in Colorado, that Hotch didn’t make it to the hospital in time to see Jack awake one more time.

That Jack’s heart gave out on him while he was breaking every speed limit while driving Hotch to the hospital.

That Hotch was too late, just like he was too late with Haley seven years ago.

That Hotch spent the last six months hiding his grief and desolation, throwing himself entirely into work and doing the bare minimum in regards to his health.

That after a man, the husband of a murdered victim and father of a child who died of cancer just a few days later, committed suicide, he had forced Hotch to live at his place for two weeks so he could make sure the still-grieving father would wake up every day, alive and breathing.

He remembered hating that the straw that broke the camel’s back was of the Mr. Scratch nature.

He remembered wondering, not for the first time, how damaged affected Hotch’s psyche was.

Today, nine months to the day Hotch resigned from the bureau, he got his answer: incredibly damaged.

Rossi thought back to the profile they had given the Boston PD.

~~~

“The man we’re looking for is in his mid 30s to mid 40s and exhibits traits of both an organized and disorganized killer,” Rossi started, looking out into the Boston PD bullpen. “It is also highly likely that he fathered a son who is around 4-5 years old. He has recently suffered a personal tragedy, likely one that involved losing his son and wife in a way he feels responsible for.”

“The crime scenes itself demonstrate a high level of intelligence and control, but that control is shattered when it comes to the men,” JJ added. “We tracked their last movements, and it seems that these men all frequented BDSM clubs.” Everyone in the room got the unsaid message: the men were cheating on the wives.

“He may be using the men’s infidelity as justification for his actions,” she finished the thought.

“When we talked to the children, they said they remembered the unsub being very angry at the fathers,” Luke picked up from where Tara left off. “This, in addition to the level of overkill he exhibited and the smashed mirrors at every house, may be a manifestation of the unsub’s own self-hatred and of his desire to make others feel his pain and guilt.”

“The children also said that the unsub was incredibly nice to them and the wife and that he apologized before he knocked the kids out,” Reid interjected from where he was sitting at the side of the room. “This man has a fractured psyche: he’s able to exhibit care and consideration one moment, shoot a person in three vital regions the next, and then destroy a face post-mortem in a fit of angry self loathing. This will show in his day to day life.”

“We’d like for your officers to canvas bars and clubs in the area,” Prentiss instructed, “ and ask the workers if they know anyone who may fit the profile: again, male, 30s to 40s, may have recently suffered a tragedy, and may be acting erratically—asked for time off, mood swings, anything out of the ordinary.”

~~~

They had gotten it completely right, but, looking at the man playing with the child in front of him, Rossi still felt like they had completely missed the mark.

“Let the kid go,” Rossi ordered quietly.

“Dave, why are you calling him that?” came the quiet baritone, the dearly-missed voice inciting within Rossi a strange rush of familiarity and fear. “You know his name.”

It can’t be the kid’s actual name that he wants, look at the body language, it’s so protective. So what—Rossi briefly closed his eyes as a flash of grief overtook him.

“Hotch, please,” he finally said, placing his gun away and slowly moving around the man so that he could see the child. “Let Jack go, he doesn’t need to see this.”

That got a reaction out of the man, who looked up and shocked Rossi with the sheer depth of broken protectiveness that was in his expression. “He needs me,” Hotch insisted, his next words sending a bolt of shock through Rossi’s system. “He just lost his mother.”

Rossi kneeled down cautiously, mind racing. “Hotch, do you know what day it is?”

Hotch sent him a confused look. “It was Haley’s funeral yesterday,” he answered, breath hitching at the end as he looked away. His eyes locked onto the ballistics vest Rossi was wearing, noticing it for the first time. “Why are you wearing a ballistics vest? Is everything alright?”

Rossi’s eyes began to burn as he realized what was going on. “Hold on, I’m going to go get something, and then I’ll explain everything, alright?” he said, standing up and feeling relief at the responding nod. He quickly walked back into the living room where the others were waiting, only stopping to tell them to stay there before grabbing the case file they had brought with them.

“Come here,” he beckoned Hotch over, placing the file on the desk in front of the window in the sparsely decorated bedroom.

Hotch left the child on the ground and walked over, still confused. “A case?” he asked absently as he flipped through the reports with a focus that hadn’t been since eighteen months ago, when he was still with the bureau, before that fateful day.

Unseen, Rossi went to the child and quickly ushered him out of the bedroom, making sure that he got to one of the others before going back inside, making it back to Hotch before he looked up from the file.

“What do you make of it?” Rossi indicated the folder, tone even as he successfully hid the turmoil within. He watched with a pang as Hotch easily slipped back into old habits, verbalizing his observations and yet remaining utterly oblivious to the significance they hold to him.

Hotch paused, looking around. “Where’s Jack?” he asked Rossi, panic seeping into his voice when he realized the child was gone. He backed away from Rossi, who had stepped carefully towards him, hands up placatingly. “Dave, what’s going on? Where’s Jack?”

The situation was all too painfully familiar.

“Hotch, you know that isn’t Jack,” Rossi said carefully. “His name is Charlie Summers. Yesterday wasn’t Haley’s funeral. It’s November 2020, and you’re in Boston, not in Virginia.”

“What are you talking about?” Hotch looked at him as if he were crazy.

Rossi pressed forward. “Do you remember what happened eighteen months ago, when you were taken by Peter Lewis?” he asked as Hotch froze in his place. “He had you for a day. He had taken you to your childhood home in Manassas, do you remember that? He drugged and tortured you. We found you just in time, but you almost killed yourself.”

He watched as blood leached out of the man’s face, as he started rapidly shaking his head. “You were discharged from the hospital a week later,” Rossi pushed, hating every second that passed while he tried to pull Hotch out of the delusion. “And while you were still on medical leave, you sent in your resignation and asked that Emily Prentiss, who had come back while you were in the hospital—”

“Take my place as unit chief,” Hotch finished in a whisper, staring at the floor and shaking like a leaf. Rossi rushed forward, flashing back to the day Hotch got that devastating phone call as he caught the man and lowered him to the ground—holding and comforting him, despite the circumstances, just as he had done back in that hotel room.

A few minutes passed, filled with harsh breathing as reality set in.

“Why?” Rossi finally asked the once stoic and unmovable unit chief, now reduced to just another unsub—only he wasn’t just another unsub. He was the man who held the elite profiling team together as they went through hell and back, the man who had reignited Rossi’s dormant paternal instincts.

He wondered if it had been a good idea to ask that question when Hotch remained silent, placing his head between his knees and still shaking as reality continued to seep back in.

“His voice,” Hotch finally muttered, “He wouldn’t stop. Taunting, laughing, talking, talking about how people are ungrateful and should be taught to be thankful for what they have that the children don’t deserve—” he broke off with a whimper covering his ears with his hands.

“Hotch?” He didn’t answer, even as Rossi forcefully brought his head back up. His eyes were squeezed shut and he had bit deep into his lip, drawing blood. “Aaron,” Rossi tried, raising his voice only to get knocked onto his back when the aforementioned man reflexively shoved him away, causing him to hit the bed then fall to the ground.

Hearing the crash, the team fell back onto instincts and rushed into the bedroom with their guns out and ready, only to see Rossi staring helplessly at the once-proud man curling into himself in the corner and letting out painful, guttural cries as the last pieces of his mind finally shattered under the weight of the demons he spent his entire life fighting.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #dave rossi #aaron hotchner whump #tw character death #bau #sodone i lost a friend i lost my mind

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azwriting · 5 years

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Secrets (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Thirteen

AHH! Only two more chapters left! Me finishing a project? A miracle. Anyways! As usual I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Summary: To hide from the First Order and Kylo Ren, (Y/N) must resort to desperate measures.

Warning(s): None really(?)

Word Count: 5903

The hallway was silent, no signs of life, as (Y/N) poked her head out of her quarters. It was the middle of the night, everyone was asleep on the Resistance base, except for the occasional patrolling guard. Exiting her room, she tightened her grip on the brown duffel bag that she carried by her side. She was not defecting or deserting, in truth she wanted to stay, but it was no longer an option. She needed to put as much distance as she could between the First Order and her, and being a member of the Resistance she was bound to run into them at some point. It was no longer safe to stay, it was time to go.

The ramp on the Falcon slowly lowered itself, revealing the night sky and the crowd that awaited their return. A mission to rescue a Resistance member who had been captured by the First Order for a long period of time, seemed to gather quite a lot of attention. (Y/N) hovered in the back, allowing for the four to descend first. She was still shaking, eyes watering, and heart in agony. Cheers were heard as Finn and Chewie exited out of the ship and then even more for Poe and Rey. “Did you find Commander Stryker? Does she need medical support? Someone get the medical team over here stat!”

The applause and questions seemed to halt when she came into view, everyone’s eyes staring in disbelief. “Wasn’t she being held captive by the First Order?” One hushed voice drifted across the deadly silent crowd of members. “She was gone for almost a month, how is she not dead?” “Dead? There’s not even a scratch on her!” “She’s even in a dress!”

(Y/N)’s arms clenched tighter around her frame as she tried to ignore the whispers coming from the Resistance members. They were right, why was a highly ranking Resistance member not bruised, bloodied, and beaten to a pulp by the hand of the First Order? If they only knew what their Supreme Leader had done to her heart. With her head down, (Y/N) followed closely behind her rescuers into the Command Center, where more eyes followed.

“Dameron, I explicitly denied you the right to leave this base! All four of you disobeyed direct command I hop-” A familiar voice shouted from the Center, but her rant stopped as Poe, Rey, Finn, and Chewie stepped to the sides revealing (Y/N). Her (Y/E/C) eyes lifted to the source of the shouting, finding a sight that made her heart wrench even more.

“(Y/N)?” General Organa breathed out in surprise, turning to look at Poe. “You found them?” Poe nodded, head held high despite despite the eventual repercussions of his defiance.

“I told you I would.” Leia exhaled, taking in (Y/N)’s disheveled sight, her eyes not so discreetly searching the crowd behind the crying girl. No doubt searching for a tall black haired man.

“L-Lele” (Y/N)’s voice cracked, fresh tears pouring down.

“You remember…” Leia whispered, confounded once again. She only nodded and rushed into the woman’s arms, completely breaking down again. Leia held her close, feeling the pain that surrounded her aura, stroking her messy hair.

“Clear the room!” Poe shouted. Everyone was quick to leave, retiring for the night or returning to their duties. Leaving the General and the Commander she loved so dearly. (Y/N) stayed in Leia’s arms sobbing, her knees wobbling from the sorrow.

“I-I lost him again!” She cried out, Leia’s eyes watering as she quietly reminded the girl it was not her fault.

That had been a month ago, she had been away from him for a month. (Y/N) tried to bury herself in work, in bringing the First Order crumbling down, in forgetting. But she never could, it was always on the back of her mind, and now it was time to leave. Resorting to running away in the middle of the night, without so much as a goodbye. She had no other choice.

A knock came at her door, pulling (Y/N) out of her wallowing thoughts. She had barely left her room the past few days, still attempting to deal with her pain. “Go away Poe!” she shouted, quite annoyed with her neighbor’s constant pestering. She was not necessarily mad at him, he had thought she was in trouble, and him and her could not continue living in their little pretend world forever, but she was tired of the constant apologies. She only wanted to forget it ever happened.

“Its - Its not Poe.” A distinct voice called from the other side of the door. (Y/N) sat up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She made her way to the door, pressing the button on the side panel, allowing for it to open.

Rey stood before her, an uneasy look etched onto her face, hands hidden behind her back. “I’m sorry Rey, I didn’t know it was you.” She apologized hastily.

Rey shook her head, “It’s alright.” The young Jedi’s eyes fell as she shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, clearly nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

Rey let out a sigh, lifting her eyes, “I need your help.”

(Y/N)’s one brow quirked up, “My help? With what?” She was unsure what use she would be in such a state. Rey let out an uneasy laugh, revealing the two items she held behind her back. (Y/N) sucked in a large gulp of air at the sight, eyes looking up to the young woman in questioning.

“When I was with Luke, he mentioned a padawan who was strong in the Force, strong enough to take his nephew, strong with her lightsaber.” Rey’s hand extended out more, balancing (Y/N)’s lightsaber. She had purposefully left it on the Falcon the night they returned with the intention of never wielding it again.

“I can’t fight him Rey…” (Y/N) muttered, her sadness surfacing once again.

Rey nodded hand still outstretched, “I know I wouldn’t expect you to. And I know you closed yourself off to the Force, but could you train me? You and Ben trained together Luke said, you must fight alike.” (Y/N) winced at his name, the name of the boy she had fallen in love with, his real name. She had blocked out his name solely referring to him as Kylo Ren, it felt like another person when she did. Perhaps because when he had taken on that mantra, he had become someone else.

“You’ve beaten him before, why do you need my help?” Rey let out a loud sigh, filled to the brim with anxiety. (Y/N) was sure if she was still connected to the Force, she would have felt how distressed her aura was. Even without, she could see the stress weighing on the young woman’s shoulders.

“I just - I need to get better, stronger. Everyone is looking to me to step into Luke’s shoes and… it's just a lot.” (Y/N)’s eyes fell in shame. She should be helping the girl, not hiding away like some laser brain. It was not like her, even with no memory of who she was, she still had joined the Resistance to help others.

“I’ll train you, but we must go far into the Jungle. The Resistance cannot see me handling a saber, too many questions would arise and the truth would eventually come out. I could be branded a traitor to the cause.” The base had all been told a lie, to protect (Y/N). She had escaped the First Order rather quickly and crash landed on a deserted planet where she waited to be found. No mentions of Kylo Ren, of her remembered past, or her Force sensitivity. It was the only way to explain why she was not injured or malnourished. If anyone else found out about her previous relationship with Kylo, the Resistance would begin to question where her loyalties lay.

Rey nodded solemnly,“When do we start?”

(Y/N) plucked her lightsaber from the girl, trying to bury the resurfacing memories, “At dawn.”

As the sun began to rise casting an orange hue over the far off Resistance base, (Y/N) and Rey sat on the moist ground of the jungle. “I’m sorry, but I thought you were going to teach me to be stronger during a fight?” Rey questioned unsure as to why they were sitting down cross legged. (Y/N) quirked up an eyebrow at her, had Luke not disclosed the importance of mastering the Force? Silently she was cursing his Force Ghost. He had left her with one hell of a mess.

“I am but you have to know how to connect to the Force to become better.”

Rey nodded along, “So I control it better.”

“No.” (Y/N) shook her head, if she ever saw Luke’s Ghost she would surely have a word with him. “We don’t control the Force nor does it control us. We simply harness it and it guides us. It’s a symbiotic relationship.” Rey remained silent, urging (Y/N) to go on. “Do you recall the first moment you realized you were Force sensitive? I was no older than two and I remember lying in the meadow with my parents and lifting my rattle.” (Y/N) swallowed thickly recalling the summer afternoon with her parents before everything. She knew she was not alone, but she felt it nonetheless.

Rey seemed to look down at the palm of her hands, contemplating. “I thought it was on Starkiller Base, but I always knew something was there especially after one night. It was over ten years ago, I had been on Jakku for a few years by then, and I just remember waking with this awful feeling of pain and suffering. It was gone as soon as it started and in its place I felt this calling, this swell of Light in me.” (Y/N) pursued her lips at her words, dissecting them. Over ten years ago… her eyes widened, Rey had begun to feel her call to the Force when (Y/N) closed herself off to it. Darkness rises and Light to meet it...

(Y/N) slipped past a patrolling guard, stepping out onto the hangar ground. The sky was pitch black, the stars twinkling ever so slightly as she made her way to her X-Wing. She hated leaving, it made her feel like she was deserting her friends, family, and cause. But this was about something bigger than herself now, something she had to protect. Stepping onto the ladder leaning against the X-Wing, (Y/N) hauled herself up and tossing her duffel bag into the waiting ship.

“Leaving without saying goodbye, huh? You definitely got that from Han, no doubt about it.” She turned around on the ladder, finding Leia exiting out onto the hanger in a long nightgown and robe, her hair down and free. (Y/N) was surprised, how did she know she was leaving?

“I didn’t want anyone to know.” She called back, climbing down the ladder, hoping the woman was not here to stop her. She could not be stopped, her mind was already made up. Leia greeted her at the bottom, a knowing look on her face.

“You don’t say? Leaving in the dead of night, I wouldn’t have guessed.” Leia’s words were oozing with sarcasm and (Y/N) could only let out a short laugh.

“I’m not defecting, you know?” The General nodded, eyes holding such intensity it made (Y/N) want to back down from her decision.

“I know,” Leia paused her hands gripping (Y/N)’s upper arms, “(Y/N) this could be the thing to save him.”

The young woman gulped, “You-You know?” (Y/N) racked her mind, searching for any indication of when she slipped up, revealing that she would be running from the war. To her knowledge there had not been a single moment, she had taken precautions. Leia quirked an eyebrow up at her, obviously displeased by her tone of shock.

“Of course I do, I’ve only known you since you were four. I know when you are hiding something.” (Y/N) let out a sigh, knowing there was no she could even deny it now.

“He can’t know Leia. You can’t tell him. I wasn’t enough to turn him or even keep him from turning.” (Y/N) let out a harsh laugh, tears swimming in her eyes. “This won’t save him either, the only thing that can save Ben, is himself. And I’m not so sure he wants to be saved.”

Leia inhaled sharply, “I won’t tell him, I won’t tell anyone.” (Y/N) breathed out in relief, tears slipping down her cheeks as she thanked the General. “Where will you go?”

(Y/N) shrugged lightly, “Somewhere he won’t look, somewhere where he won’t ever realize I left the Resistance.” Leia nodded in agreement, it was best if she stayed hidden.

“Send word when you are safe, wherever. Don’t tell me where though, can’t risk the First Order intercepting it.” (Y/N) concurred with a curt nod, that was the last thing she wanted, the First Order finding her. There was already a mandated order floating around the First Order that if any Stormtrooper identified her that she would need to be brought to the Supreme Leader unharmed. Poe’s informants had heard the news and relayed the information and she had experienced it first hand.

Rey and (Y/N) danced around each other in the early morning sun, lightsabers raised and pointing at one another. “Breathe Rey, just breathe.” (Y/N) reminded her. “Feel the Force surrounding you and every living thing. Let it guide you.” Rey took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily. Her concentration and (Y/N)’s lesson was cut short by a loud ringing noise sounding in the distance. The two women stared at each other, eyes wide, before they took off back towards base. (Y/N) carefully concealed her saber in her small satchel as they came out of the clearing and onto the landing strip.

A group had assembled outside surrounding the higher ranking officials. Finn and Poe were pushing their way through the crowd, eyes scanning in search of someone. Finn’s eyes suddenly fell on them and pointed, the two men scrambling over. “Finn! What’s going on?” Rey questioned as the four merged together in the center of the landing strip.

“We got a mission.” Finn answered bumping his shoulder into Rey.

“The four of us.” Poe clarified.

“What?” (Y/N) gulped, unsure whether she was ready to go back into the field. To face all the possibilities.

“It’s nothing crazy, just gathering supplies on a neighboring system.” Poe added, reading the concern on her face.

“Then what was the siren for?” Rey pondered.

“Some of the other pilots have to escort new recruits to the base, The First Order seems to be getting close.” Finn informed and everyone nodded, moving towards the Falcon. (Y/N) felt the fear rise in her, scared to come anywhere near the First Order. Poe informant’s had gotten ahold of him the other day, stating that there was a hefty reward being offered to First Order members if they found a Resistance member with large burn tissue scarring the right side of her neck. Kylo wanted her back and it seemed he would result to anything just for it to happen.

Landing on the nearby planet of Thalrira, the village situated on top of a dry mountain range, the friendly natives greeted the four with open arms. They were people who sympathized with the Resistance cause. Poe and Finn got started right away with loading up the Falcon with the medical and food supplies the village was donating while (Y/N) and Rey loaded up the fabrics and boxes of devices and new equipment. Setting down the last box, (Y/N) stepped off the ship to thank the villagers along with the rest of her group. Outside the ramp, she was met with a sight that made her stomach drop.

Stormtroopers had circled around the four of them, their own weapons raised back at them. Their helmets raised at the sight of her, looking at her exposed scar.

“Get her!” Ordered one, two of the six stepping forward to grab her. But (Y/N) was quicker than them, her hand dipping into the satchel to retrieve her lightsaber. Purple light illuminated on the Stormtroopers white uniforms before (Y/N) drove her saber straight through one’s chest, quickly doing the same to the other. She jumped over the three, saber raised at the other four Stormtroopers. She blocked their blasts and quickly took them all down, Poe and Finn staring at her in shock.

“Is this what you guys do in the jungle every morning?” Finn asked.

“I didn’t know you could do all that!” Poe exclaimed after.

Normally (Y/N) would find their banter humorous but thundering footsteps behind squandered the opportunity. She turned to see another group of Stormtroopers stalking forward, and turned back to the group of Resistance members.“Ready?”

Rey bent down and received her saber from one of the fallen Troopers, “Always.” The two women smirked at each other as Finn and Poe retrieved their blasters. They all nodded to each other as Rey and (Y/N) took off first, the boys providing them cover. (Y/N) and Rey were quick on their feet, bodies dropping to the ground with a thud with purple and blue light whirling along the way. Poe and Finn having a shootout with a few Stormtroopers. Driving her lightsaber through the last Stormtrooper, (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. She was unsure how the First Order had found them but it scared her.

“We better get out of here before more show up.” Poe informed, wiping away the sweat gathering on his brow. Everyone nodded eagerly, turning for the Falcon, but more thundering steps were approaching.

Another group of Stormtroopers were emerging from a First Order transporter just beyond, a group of six black dressed men following closely behind them… The Knights of Ren. (Y/N) gulped, eyeing her surroundings, did that mean their Master was here too? She could not face him.

“(Y/N) you have to go, we got it from here!”

She looked back to her friends, fear evident in her eyes, “N-No, I can stay. I can fight.” Her voice shook as she tried to feign strength, twirling her saber for good measure.

“You’re no use if you get captured.” Poe pointed out, ushering her behind them all. “Go, we’ll meet you at the rendezvous point!”

With that the three took off, weapons pointing at the incoming group. (Y/N) exhaled shakingly and ran on board of Falcon, heading straight for the cockpit. With familiar ease, she lifted the Falcon off the ground and flew off, to the cave just beyond the mountain range. The designated rendezvous point where she hoped her friends would arrive safely too. Inside she turned off the lights and sunk into the pilot’s seats, sobbing into the palms of her hands. She was endangering everyone just because of her stupid naive self, it was not right.

They had barely escaped that day and after that (Y/N) was not permitted to step off of the base, she was a dangerous to everybody. “Tell Rey I’m sorry I wasn’t able to finish training her.”

Leia smiled gently, “Don’t worry, I’ll help her finish her training.” (Y/N) nodded, tears beginning to quickly escape her eyes.

“Tell them I love them and I’m so sorry.” She thought of Chewie who she had known since childhood, of Poe since she was nineteen, and of Rey and Finn who felt like the younger siblings she never had.

“(Y/N/N) honey, its okay. They’ll understand.” She shook her head, collapsing into Leia’s embrace.

“No they won’t, they’ll think I deserted. They’ll never know the real reason, not as long as this war continues. Maybe even after that.”

Leia stroked her hair, shushing her blabbering nonsense. “If they know you at all, they will know there was a reason.” Her words seemed to calm her down, but the tears still continued.

All these emotions seemed to whirl around in her, bringing things she never said to light. “I never said thank you Leia.” (Y/N) mumbled into the woman’s shoulder.

“For what dear?” The General’s voice sounded puzzled.

“For this life. For taking me in, giving me a home, a place to feel safe in, for giving me h-h-him.” She hiccuped at the end, squeezing Leia tighter. “Despite it all, it’s been one amazing life.” She pulled away, taken aback by the tears in Leia’s eyes. She was not sure she had ever seen the woman cry. Leia opened her mouth to say something, but to squeeze so many feelings into such little words it was difficult, so in return (Y/N) just squeezed her hands. “I know Lele.” The woman let out a wet laugh and released her hands.

“Be safe.” (Y/N) nodded and backed away, clambering back up the ladder.

“(Y/N)!” The General called once more and she quickly looked down to the small woman who had been like a mother to her. “May the Force be with you.”

(Y/N) let out a chuckle tears still pooling in her eyes, “May the Force be with you!” She was unsure if she would ever see the woman again and something inside her broke at the thought. She quickly turned away, starting up the X-Wing, the engine roaring to life, and slowly began to lift up into the sky. With one last wave, (Y/N) disappeared into the night.

“General Organa! We have an unsanctioned departure!” A patrol member shouted running up to the woman.

Leia only smirked watching the X-Wing jump into hyperspace, fading into the stars, “Don’t worry, they had authorization.”

(Y/N) landed in the clearing of the vivacious forest, the light blue roofs barely peeking out over the trees in the distance. She hoped it had been smart to come here, she hoped she could disappear here. During her flight, all she could think of was this place and how it only seemed fitting. If she was smart, the First Order would never know she left, and if so no one would ever think to look here. Especially him. It was her objective to fade into the Galaxy and never be seen or heard from again, besides the occasional message she would need to send Leia. This planet would hopefully grant her her wish.

She climbed out of the cockpit, tossed her duffel bag down, and jumped down into the grass. She looked up finding the treeline above to be perfectly concealing her X-Wing. Always one to be overly cautious, (Y/N) cut down a few surrounding shrubs and placed them overtop her ship, hoping it would do the job. Hauling her duffel bag up she started the trek down to the villa that would become her new home. It had been years since she had been here and quite frankly the last time she was, was a painful memory. The warm sunlight trickled in through the tree coverage, reminding (Y/N) just how confining her white high neck sweater and brown pants were. She was misty certainly not dressed for the year long warm that graced this planet. Stepping out onto the cobblestone pathway, her eyes lifted to the magnificent villa, Varykino.

It was dead silent, no signs of life, she suspected the summer villa had been long deserted. There were no other surviving family members to reside here anyways, it would be just her for awhile. Her black standard issue Resistance boots clicking against the stone as she made her way towards the front of the villa, that had a perfect view of the endless blue that stressed across the beautiful planet. She first smelled the sweet fragrance of cherry blossoms, then the sound of lapping water, before she finally emerged to find the place that made her heart ache. It was silly of her to assume that it would not affect her by picking this place. The place they had married, oh so long ago. Her throat seemed to close, maybe picking Naboo was not the best idea, let alone the family’s long abandoned inherited estate. But she had no other choice, no one would look for her here, she could live out the rest of her days here peacefully. (Y/N) turned away to face the large wooden doors, finding it strange that they were open. Stepping inside, she expected to find dust to be covering every square inch of the house, but instead she found it oddly cleaned. She dropped her duffel bag in shock and moved silently through the house in examination. Something was not right.

A soft creak sounded from behind her and (Y/N) wasted no time igniting the purple lightsaber that was strapped to her waist and pointing it wildly at the source. An old woman with olive skin, braided up gray hair, and transfixing green eyes stood before her carrying a basket full of freshly made loaves of bread. The greens of her dress seem to reflect into her intense gaze, eyeing (Y/N)’s purple lightsaber. The two women were silent as they stared at each other, eyes attempting to read the other.

“For someone on the run, you use quite the distinguishable weapon.” Her voice was low, sweet, and raspy, bringing (Y/N) to the realization she was pointing her lightsaber at a frail elderly woman.

“I’m not on the run.” She tried to defend but the woman only pointingly looked at the saber. She exhaled lowly, turning off her saber and sheathing it back on her belt. “I’m sorry, you frightened me.”

The woman nodded in forgiveness and moved past her to the large table in the back of the villa, (Y/N) following instinctively. The elderly woman placed the basket of bread down on the glass table, turning quickly to face her, eyes narrowing in realization.

“Naberrie blood.” (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows, in confusion.

“What?” The woman’s green eyes scanned her body, an unreadable look in them as she did.

“I sense Naberrie blood.” (Y/N) was puzzled at her statement, was this woman insane? How could she sense blood? Let alone the bloodline of Senator Amidala’s family? A part of her knew why, but she could not admit that. Not to a strange woman.

“You must be mistaken, I’m not related to Senator Amidala, I just knew the family that was. That’s why I’m seeking shelter here.” The woman only lifted an eyebrow at her words, a smirk falling onto her paling lips. (Y/N) wanted to squirm under the pressure, hoping the woman would not see through her lies.

“I see with more than just my eyes dear. Naberrie blood.” She reiterated herself and (Y/N) shrunk down into herself, knowing the woman knew her secret. The woman looked at her with such sincerity, she had no choice but to trust her.

Mutely, (Y/N) confirmed her words. The woman pursued her lips in satisfaction, her wrinkled hands grasping onto her tightly.

“You will be safe here, the Villa is yours. Princess Organa has had me looking over it for the past few decades, but the Villa belongs to the family of the Naberrie.” (Y/N) shook her head, graciously thanking the woman for her kindness. She was relieved, knowing she could find refuge here, where he would never find out the truth. “What is your name dear?”

She contemplated lying, using a false name, but Leia had trusted this woman, meaning she could too. “(Y/N) Stryker.” A wrinkled finger lifted from her tight grasp, waving it tauntingly in front of (Y/N).

“Your real name child.” The woman was already far too perceptive for her liking, she had a feeling they would get along well.

“(Y/L-” A tisk flew from the elderly woman’s mouth, halting her word. The green eyes seemed to stare into her soul and (Y/N) knew she was asking her once again, “Your real name child.” She gulped, eyes casting outwards to the endless water of Naboo, remembering the white and purple flowers and the hushed words of promise. Her eyes drooped, her heart already too broken to crack more, but it felt like a boot squashed down on the broken fragments of it. She turned back to the waiting woman, eyes watering as always.

“Solo, (Y/N) Solo.” The old woman hummed in content at her confession, her wrinkled finger wiping away a stray tear.

“Ah, the bride from so long ago.” (Y/N) nodded numbly, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. “My name is Euora Accu, come I will show you around.”

The sun shone brightly in the sky, reflecting against the glistening blue water as (Y/N) watched it from underneath the shade of the large tree. The tree she had been married under. Euora had retreated to her small hut hidden in the treeline for the rest of the afternoon, promising to return later for dinner, leaving (Y/N) to her thoughts. The past week had flown by so unrealistically fast, she had had no time to process anything. From trying to keep her secret from the Resistance and First Order to running away to Naboo. It was all so much, what this new chapter of her life would hold was nothing short of unfamiliar and frightening. She wished she could reconnect to the Force, ask for guidance on where to go from here, but she would risk Kylo and her connecting. It could not happen, he could not find her, he could not find out she left and why. There were so many secrets whirling around in her head, she felt lightheaded. The past eleven years of her life had been one big secret, one she had not remembered, so what was the next few decades? But many questions arose with it. Would she tell them who she really was? Who he was really was? Or would their lives be lies too? So many uncertainties plagued her mind it was frightening.

(Y/N)’s thoughts derailed at the blurry sight of something standing down on the lower level by the docks. She squinted her eyes and an audible gasp soon fell from her lips. She took in a sprint, stumbling rapidly down the flight of stone stairs, stopping behind the blurry object. It was a woman, watching the lapping waves, who was not fully tangible, a blue light edging her frame. (Y/N) stepped forward, stopping at the woman’s side to see her fully. She wore a rich blue dress that made her appear to blend into the water. Her brown hair was long, curly, and decorated with many little flowers and colorful ribbon. A hand hung by her side, fingers holding a necklace tightly. She was beautiful, a true vision, and oddly familiar looking. The woman’s warm brown eyes turned to her, a soft smile on her peachy lips.

“(Y/N).” Her voice was soft, as she greeted her, but (Y/N) was startled the Force Ghost knew her name. Her eyes narrowed observing the woman closely, the beauty mark on her one cheek and warm brown eyes seeming to connect the internal dots. She suddenly saw Leia in the woman, than Luke, and Ben…

“Senator Amidala?” She was in complete dismay staring at the young beautiful matriarch of the Skywalker family. How was this possible?

“Padmé.” Padmé corrected her ushering her in closer.

“H-How is this possible? Were you Force sensitive? Why are you here?” (Y/N) rifled off still struggling to process the image before her. She had never seen a Force Ghost before, only ever reading about them in the Jedi texts.

“Oh no,” Padmé laughed lightly, “I was never Force sensitive. My husband, son, and your great uncle are using their powers from the Netherworld to project me here before you.” (Y/N) nodded in astonishment, the words ringing in her ears.

“Is everyone okay? Luke? Qui-Gon? Wait your husband? Anakin is in the Netherworld?”

Dark side Force users did not reside in the Netherworld and if Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, how was he there? Padmé smiled at her, enjoying her look of bewilderment. “Everyone is alright dear, Luke and Qui-Gon are quite proud of you. They knew you seeked guidance and we all deemed I was the best suited to talk to you. And yes, my husband is in the Netherworld, a fact my son and daughter should have told Ben and you. Could have spared this family additional pain.”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, that meant Anakin had been turned back to the light before death. A fact that most definitely could have prevented Kylo from turning, prevented her from losing him and her memory, and her now being all alone. She could not focus on that, not now, no she needed to know what guidance Padmé would provide her. Padme seemed to read her suffering and terror, a gentle hand coming up to rest on her cheek. (Y/N) could not feel her but the notion was comforting nonetheless.

“I wanted to tell you that everything is going to be okay.” She nodded rapidly trying to fight the tears rising, but to no avail they began to trickle down her cheeks.

“I’m frightened.” She cried, arms trembling as they wrapped around herself. “I don’t want him to find out, but at the same time I wish he was here by my side through it all.” Padmé nodded, her own tears reflecting in her eyes.

“I understand. I was scared too and just wanted Ani through it all. But (Y/N) you cannot let this fear and sadness control you, you have to rise above it.” (Y/N) agreed, wiping away her tears.

She had left the Resistance to protect her secret, came to Naboo to be safe, and she would be strong and fight through it. Padmé’s words seemed to pull her mind out of the darkness and remind her of her strength. She had been a powerful Jedi, a resourceful Resistance fighter, and now she would be strong, without him.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) smiled softly and the woman grinned back.

“Euora will help you, her father used to look over the house when I was a girl. Everything will be okay.” She reminded her with a telling grin. (Y/N) could see where Leia had gotten her unwavering strength and was thankful the women had passed it along to her. She stepped back from Padmé, now with the determination and confidence that everything would be okay.

Just before she faded away, Padmé issued one last piece of advice, “When choosing the room, might I suggest the one overlooking the gardens? It was where I wanted theirs to be.”

(Y/N) let out a wet laugh in acknowledgement, “I agree, that sounds quite lovely.” Padmé grinned, her eyes looking up to the towering peaks of Varykino. A content hum floated out from her lips and soon her beautiful figure faded away, leaving (Y/N) alone. Except she was not alone, she smiled to herself heading back up the steps.

In fact she had everything she needed.

Taglist:

@benpeggycartersolo

@2heures

@thephantomwriter

@thefandomzoneisdangerous

@carol-chann

@gambitsqueen

@pancakefancake

@zaneholtzwrites

@moonmamma03

@siren-queen03

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars #star wars series #star wars imagine #Adam driver x reader

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allpowerfulspacevalkyrie · 5 years

Text

My Review of The Rise of Skywalker.

I’ve said this a lot. When I was a little girl and first saw Star Wars, I fell in love like most children. Especially with Princess Leia. At that point I was surrounded by Disney princesses who had varying degrees of heroics, but Leia crushed them. In the 2nd movie when I learned she was Force sensitive; I was over the moon. I got it in my head Luke was going to train her. I was sure she was going to rescue Han Solo with a lightsaber. Then the 3rd movie opened with her rescuing Han Solo. Then in an instant I was crushed. Not only is she captured but she was put into that sex slave outfit and chained. The movie ended without her ever touching a light saber. I wouldn’t be a fan of Star Wars again until I got to play a woman in Jedi Academy and then later with the Knights of the Old Republic series.

Spoilers follow.

So honestly, I’m biased as hell and a woman on the big screen with a light saber is really the biggest reason that I love the new Star Wars trilogy. I love Rey. Then in Rise of Skywalker it’s revealed that Leia had her own lightsaber and we get a glimpse of her using it. And you may be thinking, big deal. She learned to use the force and a lightsaber in the original EU. Yes, she did. The problem is that the wider audience was still caught off guard seeing Leia use the Force in The Last Jedi. There are fewer voices now, but there are people still complaining that Rey is too overpowered.

I wish TLJ had less white feminism, thank the Force for Rose. I wish she had a bigger role for this finale. I also wonder why Maz didn’t know someone to help with C3PO’s program problem.

More wonderful women added with Jannah and Zorii, but I can’t help feeling they are only there to draw people to future Disney Plus shows.

I actually laughed at Rey deciding to exile herself and hide from her problems. True Jedi form there.

FINN IS FORCE SENSITIVE AND HAS NOW SAVED THE GALAXY TWICE! Then when he hugs Rey and Poe at the end, with the tears in his eyes. He almost lost them and loves them both so dearly.

For Poe, I wish they didn’t mess with his backstory for this (again, Maz could have worked). In ROS he has the most mobility and functionality and he felt like a more complete character than he has been in the past. Also, Oscar Isaac is just hot.

I loved that Hux was the leak for his selfish reasons and I love that he was immediately killed, because that’s what slimy fascists deserve.

The lesbian kiss at the end of ROS was cheap and it looked uncomfortable for the actresses. Someone in the audience behind me said out loud, “That’s it?”

I really hate that Rey kisses Kylo. I really loved that she broke his ship and stabbed him. I still want her to be light side though. Okay so she healed him and he heals her back, but that kiss was too far. Kylo’s been this extremely abusive asshole who tried to turn Rey to the dark side by telling her she’s worthless and will only find worth through him. Too many stories about abusive assholes getting free passes in romance. This is a movie directed at kids and it pisses me off that more little girls are being fed that same garbage romance story.

I’m a fan of redemption arcs and I love the idea of people never being too far gone to be brought back from the dark side. One of my favorite Star Wars characters is Atton Rand who willfully participated in genocide of Jedi and never expects forgiveness because what he did was horrible. That said, I didn’t entirely like Kylo’s redemption. Adam Driver is a great actor, those final scenes were great. What they did with their Force connection throughout the story was cool, that lightsaber trick and that shrug at the Knights of Ren. But Kylo lacks a lot of guilt aside a bit about killing his father. Even Vader in his quick, spontaneous redemption has way more acknowledgement that what he’s been doing is wrong than Kylo does. I seriously doubt that if he lived beyond the end of the story, that his temper would have been so easily resolved. I doubt that he’d be friendly towards Poe, especially not kind to Finn, and everyone in the resistance. Not that any of them would have been friendly back.

Palpatine shouldn’t have been brought back. This Rey family lineage sucks and I would have preferred finding out her parents were really no one of importance. But they loved her dearly and they were forcefully separated. Still a huge deal and an allusion to our world of impoverished refugees and forced family separations.

At the same time though, all of Palpatine’s scenes were great. The Sith chanting gave me Old Republic feels.

And that massive battle. All those uniform, identical ships coming face to face with the diverse ships of the entire galaxy. That was amazing.

#star wars #the rise of skywalker

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rogerina-yee-haw · 6 years

Text

“at least I’m one”

sd!gwilym lee x reader

chapter 6: “- the happiness”

[the goodbye] [the sadness & tenderness] [the broken rules and true affection] [the pain and eternal bliss] [the anticipated sweetness]

summary: you and gwil met ten months ago; and he offered you to be his sugar baby almost immediately. you agreed at that exact moment, not knowing where it would get you.

word count: 4,3K+

warnings: fluffy fluff, angst, mentions of negative body image, mentions of abuse, typos

a/n: well, this is it!! it’s been almost three months since i posted “the goodbye” chapter, and now alio is over!! yikes!!

but, seriously. i can’t thank all of you enough. you’ve shown amazing support to this fic and it caught me completely off guard. it’s my first fic in English that i’ve finished (sorry, “Truth or Dare” kssjsjdksksjsk) and i’m so thankful for all of you. i have found amazing friends through this fic, through this fandom - and i’m really, really thankful for the love and support you have for alio. thankuthankthanku. i love you all dearly, and hope that you will enjoy the last chapter. i’m still going to write some side pieces to the fic, but for now, alio is over. again, i love you all so much and thank u.

p.s. hope this chapter doesn’t suck ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Whatcha doin'?"

You raise your head from the book to look at Gwil - he stands in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily and wearing nothing but boxers. He looks so soft and sweet, that you can't quite process the fact that he's all yours. It all still feels like a dream.

"Reading".

"At three in the morning?" his eyebrows rise, as he comes closer to the couch and takes a seat right near you; Gwil doesn't seem to be bothered about personal space at all - he sits down so that your hips are touching.

"What's wrong?" Gwilym brushes your cheek with his fingers, looking at you worriedly.

You put the book on the tea table in front of the couch, and turn yourself to Gwil so that you're facing each other. "Nothing".

"Something's wrong, I know it", he insists, and you sigh. "C'mon, love. Tell me".

Can he get any more perfect? you think to yourself while looking at him. How is it possible that he knows something is wrong before you even tell him? Is he some kind of psychic or something?

"Are you some kind of psychic or something?" you repeat your thoughts out loud; Gwil chuckles and licks his lips.

"That's the ultimate dream of mine, y'know", he's even closer right now; his hand is on your thigh, squeezing it gently, while his other hand cups your cheek, "being a psychic, read people's minds", the corners of your mouth quirk up at Gwil's attempt to joke. "But I'm not, in reality", he says softly, "I just feel that something is wrong". Gwilym is silent for a moment; his gaze wanders all over your body, stopping to look at your hands that are covered with the long sleeves of your hoodie. He sighs deeply, adding another thing to many of his suspicions about your weird behavior. "You've been ignoring me for the past two days. Just tell me what I've done wro-"

"It's not you, baby", you don't let him finish. "It's just..." you stutter for a moment. "I still can't process that. Still can't believe we're here. Getting married, and just... Being together. Like a normal couple".

Gwil lowers his head to look you in the eyes; his hand is still on your face. "Baby", he brushes his thumb over your cheek slowly, "what are you afraid of?"

It's weird. Weird how he feels you, knows you. Before you could even think about it, he already knows the answer. You're scared. You've been in a serious relationship before, but it turned out to be complete garbage. You loved too much and got hurt terribly. You don't want to witness the moment when tenderness leaves Gwil's eyes and he falls out of love with you. You're afraid of losing him - you almost did, and it made you go nuts - and you don't ever want for this to happen again. The love you have for him is immeasurable, and you're scared that once this bliss will go away. You're scared he'll stop loving you.

"I don't want to lose you", your voice is almost a whisper, but Gwil hears it. And it breaks his heart to know that you think this way.

"You won't", he reassures you, "I'll always be here. You'd get tired of me first", Gwilym jokes, and the corners of your mouth turn up, giving him a small smile.

"I can hardly believe that", you mutter, turning your head away and losing Gwil's touch on your face. He furrows his brows; he doesn't understand what's going on.

It's been five days since the two of you came back from Dublin and two days since you've been acting weird. Your mood would swing from happiness to crying in the bathroom. You wouldn't talk to him. You wouldn't let him touch you. The two of you barely kissed - Gwil only got quick pecks on the lips before going to work. You were never like this: you were always affectionate and loving towards him (and everybody) and seeing such a shift confused Gwilym to no end. When he woke up several minutes ago without you in bed, he immediately thought that you left him - for ever. That's the only thing that's been going on his mind for the past two days.

"Do you regret it?" the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. Your brows knit and you look at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you regret being with me?" Gwil is everything but calm now. "Do you regret saying "Yes"? Do you regret all of it?"

Your breaths quickened at his words. "Why would you even say this?"

"Because that's what I'm afraid of", he is silent for a moment. "I'm scared of you just pretending. I know you're not - I trust you and I love you and I know that you love me - but I'm scared that you don't want to be with me. That you'd better be free now, doing something - being with someone else. I'm afraid you regret all of it, like everything that happened in between us - I'm just so scared that it's not-"

"Gwil", you cup his cheeks before he can say something else. "I don't regret it", his eyes are glistening with tears. You hate it. "None of it, baby. I love you so much, it's even impossible for me-", you sigh. "I'm scared that you regret being with me".

"Why would I ever regret being with you?"

"Because it's me. I'm not like every other girlfriend you had. I'm not skinny, not pretty, not-"

"Woah", Gwilym takes your face in his hands and examines it thoroughly. "Don't say that. You're amazingly beautiful. Mesmerizing. Y/N, I haven't been dating anyone for some good amount of years. Or what-" he looks you in the eyes, "you think Zoe was my girlfriend? Or, god forbid, Alice?" Gwil huffs. "No. That's the point. I fell in love with you immediately, like it was something in my mind telling me to come and talk to you. I'm not going to - I won't ever say bullshit like "You're not like other girls" and shit, but, baby, you're so fucking special to me. Everything about you is unique. You've changed my life in so many ways, and there you are, sitting here, and telling me that you're not pretty enough for me?" you sigh deeply, and he licks his lips, a grin creeping onto his face. "How dare you, Mrs. Lee".

You raise a brow and look at him, startled. "Mrs. Lee?"

"Soon to be", Gwil smiles softly. "Only if you want to", he adds quickly.

"’Course I want to", you bite your lip, and Gwil feels his cock twitching in his boxers. "Wouldn't ever follow you to Dublin and lose my job if I didn't want to".

Gwil kisses your forehead and intertwines his fingers with yours. "Please, don't push me away if you feel insecure. Please". He puts his forehead to yours and looks you in the eyes. "You're everything I've ever wanted. I love you, Y/N", you can feel a lump in your throat.

"I'm just-"

It's been building up for so long.

You have never been following the standards of beauty. But you did that unknowingly when you were a teenager; you had all of it that every magazine required from a woman - a flat stomach, a skinny body, and long, perfect hair. But you never saw it - you were drowning so deeply in your insecurities, that you saw yourself only as something "fat and disgusting". It took you a lot of time to come through this terrible period when you considered fatness to be something awful; it never has been awful, and you're happy to know this now. But no matter how much you stood up for body positivity since you've learned about it, no matter how many times you've been praising your friends' bodies and souls, you could never bring yourself to this concept of "self-love". For many years, especially when those ones you had spent with Luke, you've been asking yourself daily, "What is self-love?"

Your mother couldn't explain it to you. Your sister couldn't. Your best friend since the university days, Janet, put it as, "Self-love is when you love yourself. Easy, right? Very easy, Y/N. You just gotta look at yourself in the mirror and see how perfect you are. You've got big boobs, nice ass, thick thighs - well, a bit of extra weight on your stomach, but that's fixable - come on, how can you not love yourself? You have to remember that if you don't love somethin' about yourself - you can fix it. Lose weight and shit. But it shouldn't ever make you insecure! Guys love thick girls too!".

Janet has always been a bit of an asshole, as Billy puts it up. You used to tell him off for such words, but after her speech on body positivity, you stopped. You knew Janet meant only well, but her words made you feel worse. "If you don't love somethin' about yourself - you can fix it". It was echoing in your head every day. When you looked in the mirror especially.

When you were a teenager, you saw a lot of extra weight in yourself, you were never able to see yourself as you really looked. James never actually complimented you, but he loved to tell you, "How fuckin' big ya tits are, babe, just fuckin' made fo' me to touch". Some years later your therapist would tell you it wasn't a compliment. At least, not the type of compliment to help in your self-esteem increase.

These words were steady, always at your side when you and Luke were together. He used to praise you, but this praise was never genuine - it was when he was guilty and tried to buy your trust back or when he needed something from you. He told you that you had an amazing body and later that day said you needed to lose weight - as he would state that - because he was ashamed to go out with "Such a whale".

You starved yourself for days. Tried to keep up with this "diet" when the only thing you could "eat" was water. You never stuck to it for too long, though. Your mum and Becca always made you eat - and you were grateful for this. But you still felt terrible. You couldn't love yourself. Even though you were sure everyone is beautiful, you never thought that you were too.

Several years later, when you were twenty-three - just some days before you met Gwilym - you and Billy were at one of the family gatherings when you asked him about self-love. You remember him being silent for a moment; when the two of you sat down on the bed in your childhood room, he sighed deeply. "I have no fucking idea, Y/N", he said in a shaky voice. "I can't say I love myself. I mean, sure, I work out and I got abs and muscles and girls fall for it, but-", Billy stuttered, looking at you. "All of it doesn't make me love myself. I don't know what self-love is, to be honest". He lied down on the bed and you did the same; you heads on the pillows were touching and both of you were looking at the ceiling. "Mum always says that no one would love you if you don't love yourself".

"Do you agree with it?"

Billy shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. It feels like truth, but whenever I shag a girl and she tells me how hot I am-"

"Jesus, ew".

"Yeah", he chuckled. "I have the same reaction all the time. Always ask myself, 'Is she really into me? Why is she into me? Is this because I'm ripped?'"

"Have you found the answer?"

He sighed, leaning in closer to you, so your shoulders were touching too. "Not yet. I'm just thinking, Y/N - how does it feel to love yourself? What should happen in your life that you just wake up and... Feel it? Feel that you don't look like shit, feel that your body doesn't have imperfections. How does this happen?"

You gave a half shrug. "I don't know. But from what I've read and what my therapist told me - self-love isn't about seeing yourself as something "perfect". It's about accepting your flaws and loving them. It's about accepting yourself, no matter what you look like".

"Oh, I get it", Billy answered quietly, "I've read about such shit on Twitter".

"Not the best source".

He shushed you. "There was like a thread - I don't remember exactly everything, but there was this thing that got into my mind. It said, that no matter how ripped you are, no matter how much you look like these Victoria's Secret's models - if you don't love yourself, you'd still hate the person in the mirror. Even if you look "perfect".

You nodded and let out a deep sigh. "Well, that's true. I mean, you look like a fucking bodybuilder and still hate yourself".

"At least I'm not the one listening to my bitch of a friend who says I have to lose weight to look good".

You poked him in the ribs playfully, and both of you smiled.

"Alright, we're both fucked up, I admit it", Billy replied. "Let's make a deal".

You turned your head to look him in the eyes. "What kind of deal?"

"Let's try loving ourselves", he said in a soft voice. "Let's say something nice to the reflection in the mirror. Maybe something dumb like, "That dick is poking out good today" or whatever. You can say the same 'bout your nipples".

"Why do you always have to make it sexual, Billy?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N!" he said loudly, propping onto his elbows. "That's the bare minimum! And I make it sexually related because I don't know what to praise in myself except for the dick. Not yet", he added quietly.

"At least, you admit you can praise your dick. I hate every part of my body. I don't know how it’s even possible".

"I would say that you have nice tits, but it would sound really weird".

"You already fucking said it, you dumbass".

"Y/N, look-", he was determined to convince you, "everyone hates something 'bout themselves. But we've gotta work on that. We've gotta get out of this pit full of hatred and self-pity, just 'cause-", he stuttered, "just 'cause if we don't - we won't end up well. And that's certainly isn't something anyone wants".

"Come on, Y/N", he continued when you didn't respond, "I know it's hard to believe it, but you're really fuckin' gorgeous. But what's most important is that your beauty isn't the only thing to admire. You graduated with honors, you can outsmart anyone everywhere - and you're literally throwing good opportunities away because you're insecure. Remember that job you were offered last month?" you nodded. "You fuckin' declined the offer. ‘Cause you're too scared you won't fit in. It's written all over your face that you think everyone would discuss how fat you are".

"How'd you know that?" you mumbled.

"'Cause you wear nothing but baggy clothes all the time!" Billy almost yelled. "You've got a nice body down there - I have never checked you out in my life - 'cause it's disgusting - and I know it because everyone's body is beautiful. Isn't it a thing you're telling everybody on a daily basis?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, even though you knew Billy was right.

"A bit hypocritical, innit, Y/N?"

"Alright, alright, yeah", you said finally. "I admit, I don't even try to love myself".

"And you're too scared of the society's attention", Billy added. "Like, remember our senior ball? You looked really good in that pink dress. The makeup though? T'was great, made me feel jealous I didn't wear that eyeshadow instead of you", his comment made you laugh. "Everyone was startled, but when Jemma Cham said you looked ugly... You only saw that. You always see only the bad things, Y/N, and ignore the good ones. That's what I meant. You should start appreciating the good things around you, at least", you both looked at each other for a while, before Billy rested his head on the pillow again. "Come on, mate. Let's make a deal".

His pinky finger was at your face in an instant; and sighed deeply and gave up. At least, Billy wasn't offering to do something terrible.

"Let's say good things about ourselves every day", he said, when you gave him a pinky promise. "No hate, no irritation - just the good things. Agreed?"

You nodded, smiling at him. "Promised".

"Alright", he said. "I'll start. I will try to love my first name, that my poor, fangirling mother gave me twenty-three years ago when she thought Billy Bob Thornton to be the best manin the world".

"It still sucks. Try something else, bub".

Billy sighed. "You don't make it any better, Y/N".

You were bad at keeping promises. Of course, you tried to start this journey to the anticipated self-love - and, to be honest, you hated yourself a bit less now. You acknowledged that your body had some good sides; you started to understand that stretch marks weren't a bad thing. Especially after Gwil kissed all over your inner thighs with stretch marks on them the first time you had sex. Gwilym made you feel a lot better about your body - he never stopped worshipping it and telling you how good you looked, no matter what you wore. That made you feel better. But only before you met Alice.

Of course, now Alice isn't a problem - she's being charged with breaking and entering into Gwil's apartment and won’t ever bother the two of you - but she certainly had been a problem in the past. With her long, beautiful black hair, perfect body and witty personality - you felt like you were out of the competition. She had made an impression on you during your multiple encounters - that one on Christmas, in the pub where you were with Billy and Janet, in the mall, or when you were grocery shopping... The last one wasn't quite good, though.

"Doesn't Gwil give you money to go to some better places for shopping?" she asked, while the two of you stood near the shelves with vegetables.

"I've gotta the same question to you", you muttered under your breath, trying to ignore her presence by looking at the price of tomatoes.

"Oh, my mum asked me to buy something for her here", you looked over at her shopping cart; something about it told you it wasn't for Alice's mother. "I don't go grocery shopping at all. Gwil has bought me a maid for it. And for cleaning my flat too".

You had to restrain yourself from laughing. Of course. "That's very kind of him", you said, turning to face her. "Guess, he gave all of his money to you, since he can't hire someone to fix up his place", a muscle in Alice's jaw twitched. "You've been to his flat, right? It's a mess", you looked at her with innocence written all over your face, "he can't even do laundry or wash this pile of dishes - that's how busy he is. And still, there is no maid helping him out. Maybe you'll share yours with him?"

Alice was almost burning; her face went completely red and she was heavily breathing. "Maybe you will do it?" she asked a couple of seconds later when she got herself together. "You've got quite a personality for it".

You frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"People like you..." Alice looked you up and down. "Are just destined to be the second best. No, probably, even the tenth best. But never the first".

Alice won back then. She made you feel terrible in every way possible, and - it was pretty stupid, as you thought - you couldn't stop remembering about this moment now especially. You never tend to be the first. Never. Never. Never.

"Baby", Gwil whispers, looking into your eyes, "what is it?"

You close your eyes and sigh deeply. His hands are on your cheeks, and his touch is so tender and soft that it makes your eyes swim with tears. This is too much. He is too much. No one has ever cared about you like this before.

It all has been building up for so long - probably since you were a teenager.

James never understood the basics of human nature, never understood why you needed his shoulder to cry on, why you needed his constant reassurance that he loved you. And Luke... Luke is a different story. He would tell you he loves you, and the next moment you were crying on the floor because at this specific time he hit you too hard. Luke was never caring or loving. Luke was - and still is - harsh and cruel, violent. And even after ten months with Gwil, you're still not used to being admired, worshipped. You still aren't used to being loved.

"I'm just-", you barely open your mouth, when you feel the lump in your throat. You're afraid that the next time you open your mouth - you'll be choking on tears.

"What's wrong?" even though your eyes are closed, you can still feel Gwilym looking at you. He's worried, sad and anxious. He's still scared that you're going to get up and leave him forever. Gwil thinks that he won't ever get rid of this fear. "Baby", he presses his forehead to yours; you bite the inside of your cheek just to stop the tears - but they uncontrollably stream down your face anyway. "I understand. You don't have to tell me if you're not ready. You don't have to" when Gwil repeats it, your eyes are flushed open.

"No, I-" wow, you really are choking on tears, "I want to. I just...don't know how". You're crying - sobbing now, actually - and Gwil still has his hands on your cheeks. Because he knows that you need his touch. Need it more than anything. "No one has ever - ever cared about me as you do. And I don't know - I don't know where to start, what to say - I just-" you stutter again, unable to continue. You feel as if all the oxygen has been taken from - you can't fucking breathe.

Gwil kisses your forehead and pulls you closer, putting his hands around you. You nuzzle his neck, tears glistening on his skin in the dim light of the living-room. You feel warm and safe - and for the first time in your life, you feel comfortable crying. He holds you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings. That's the thing you've been craving from James and Luke - the thing they never gave you. Reassurance.

"I love you", Gwil whispers, when you finally pluck up the courage to look at him. "I love you more than anything".

"I love you too", you say breathlessly and kiss his stubbly cheek lightly. And when he looks at you - with so much love and fondness - you start speaking. You don't know how to stop yourself, but part of you knows that you don't want to.

You keep telling Gwil about everything: starting with your classmate calling you a "cow" in the sixth grade and finishing with your fears. You can't stop saying all of it, and Gwil doesn't want you to - it's probably the first time when everything is focused around you. You're not much of a talker, and sometimes saying "I love you" to your parents is a hard thing to do - but tonight you talk, and talk, and talk. All because you're tired of keeping everything inside. And if you don't spill it out, you'll blow up.

And Gwil deserves to know what's going on inside your head - he's going to marry you, you can't keep having secrets from each other. Every relationship must be built on trust, and tonight you finally let all of your walls fall down, opening up to Gwil like to no one else. You trust him. That's the most important reason why you're being so honest. You know he won't laugh at you, you know he would never judge. He'll accept you no matter what. Because now you know that he loves you.

When you finish, it's already the break of dawn. You're in Gwil's arms, with your head oh his shoulders, and his arm around your waist. He's playing with your hair, while the two of you sit in silence.

"Still wanna marry me?" you say jokingly.

He smiles and kisses the top of your head. "Always. Can't wait to call you 'my wife'".

You chuckle and snuggle closer to him. All of it feels like home. And you know that you have finally found the love of your life.

He’s so warm and sweet and lovely. You’ve never thought you’d be so in love with someone that even their smile would make you go crazy. He’s the guy you’ve been dreaming about your whole life, he is your Prince Charming. And you are his Princess. Even though you don’t need this - you just need him in your life. You feel so much love and happiness while kissing with him before you two fall asleep in your bed at six in the morning - and you can’t keep yourself from beaming when Gwil’s pulling you closer to him and whispering “I love you’s” into your neck. Now you don’t know yet that in two hours you’ll wake up with the worst nausea in your life; you still don’t know that three days later you’ll find out about your pregnancy. You don’t need to know that yet. Now you’re in the state of total bliss and love and what you’ve craved for years - eternal happiness - is given to you by the man right next to you. And you that’s exactly what you need.

_______________________________________________________________

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harrysgucciclothes-blog · 5 years

Text

Forever and Always

Pairing: Ashton x Lilian

Requested: nOpe

Warnings: smut... and fluff if you’re not into that

Word count: 800+

A/N: I’ve spent like 3 weeks on this and it may actually suck so give some feedback please. Tumblr messes up the spacing because I copy and pasted this from my notes so if there is large gaps just ignore it, I’ll fix it in later writings. If you like I should make some more tell me! I’d love too.

Enjoy

Then

The way he nonchalantly held the beer bottle and casually leaned against the wall while talking to his friends might have been one of the reasons I was extremely turned on by this stranger. His hair was slicked back like a 1950’s greaser boy and the leather jacket just added to the look. His friend got caught up with a girl leaving the pretty man alone. He scanned the club while still leaning against the wall casually. Our eyes met he noticed I had been staring him before he ever saw me. He smirked and winked at me, making me smile like a dork and look down. I would always curse at myself when a boy had this effect on me. I looked back up to see him walking over.

“This seat taken?” He asked while putting his hand on the back of it. I shook my head no and swiveled my body so I was facing the bar. I messed with the straw of my drink; taking sips every couple seconds.

“So, maybe I’m just imaging this, so correct me if I’m wrong. But, were you checking me out?” He asked quirking his eyebrow up. I looked over at the man next to me and sized him up, taking in his beautiful demeanor.

I hum, “maybe.” My friends always say I play hard to get. Maybe I do, but I don’t see anything wrong with a little game. He waved over the bartender.

“Two Coke’s with rum, please.” He ordered . The girl behind the bar nodded and went to make the drinks. I looked around the smoky bar. Couples made out in the corners of the building while others hurriedly pulled each other outside to catch a ride. Some sat at the bar alone while others, including me, sat with someone else. I saw the man next to me look me up and down. He took in a breathe preparing for something.

“My names As-“

“Coke with rum.” The bartender interrupted sliding the two glasses towards us. I gripped the glass and looked over at him waiting for him to continue.

“I’m Ashton.” He introduced.

“Lilian.” I replied back.

“Pretty name.”

“Thank you.” Silence fell over us expect for the Music and people yelling over the music. Ashton turned to me.

“You here with friends?” Smooth. I turned to face him.

“No, had a stressful day at work and thought I’d stop here for a drink, you?” I gave a longer response, slowly letting go of playing hard to get.

“Yeah, I’m here with friends.” He said while scratching the back of his neck and chuckling awkwardly. “However, I’m pretty sure they’ve ditched me.” He said doing a quick look over the room. I giggled at him and that made him smile and look back at me. My body now faced him as I was more open and willing to talk now that I know he’s not a weirdo.

We talked for a good hour until I realized it was getting late and I wanted to head home. I sighed stretching a bit. Ashton noticed my change in posture and turned his head to me. A yawn escaped my lips before I get any words out. “I think I’m gonna get going.” I say after I yawn and get up from my chair.

“How are you getting home? I could call you an Uber or something.” He asked in concern, standing up from his seat.

“No, I’m fine. I live right down the block. I’m just going to walk.” I threw my purse over my shoulder.

“Can I walk you home? I’d hate myself if something happened.” I smiled at the sweet gesture but I knew what he was trying to wiggle into. “Only if you want to” I say, even though my mind is telling me not too. He nods and we walk out.

We walk side by side. Cars drive by us not bothered.

“You know, you’re really beautiful.” A blush sets over my face and I look up at him. His head is facing forward but I can see his eyes drift over to see my reaction.

“Thank you. You’re quiet handsome.” I say back playfully. He turns his head to look at me fully and smiles at my compliment. I stop outside of my apartment and he stops with me.

“This is me.” I say pointing behind me. He nods putting his hands in his pockets and rocked from his toes to his heels. “Thanks for walking me home. It was very nice.”

“Of course. Um, maybe I could get your number? We could go out sometime?” He replies looking up at me as I start walking up the steps of my apartment. I stop half way and stare at him. Do I want to give him my number? I debated on asking if he wanted to come inside instead. It’s not like me to just invite a random guy into my home, let alone debate sleeping with him. I must of taken a long pause since Ashton sighed.

“Okay, well it seems you don’t want to, and that’s fine. Maybe I’ll see you around?” He says turning away.

“Wait!” I call and he stops instantly and turns around. ”Yeah?” My face turns red as my confidence leaves. “Uh. Would you maybe... Want to come in?” He smiles and nods. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Now

“Sweetheart, you look so beautiful.” My mom says while wiping away tears.

“Thank you, mom.” I turn and look at myself in the mirror. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m getting married. Mom I’m getting married.” I say excitedly and turn to her. She nods mirroring my excitement.

“Do you think he’s excited? Or maybe he’s nervous... do you think he’s nervous?” I ask her suddenly nervous as well. “Oh my God. What if he doesn’t want to go through with this? What if he doesn’t show?” I say worriedly. Mom shakes her head frantically and comes over to me.

“No darling. I talked to him earlier, he is just as excited and ready for this. He loves you dearly. He is a great man, he wouldn’t do that to you.” She tells me this and it calms me down. I’m going to be with him for the rest of my life. That doesn’t scare me. I want to be with him. He is mine, and I am his. My maid of honor busted through the doors of the spacious dressing room.

“All right! Everything’s ready! Calum says your soon to be husband is as ready as ever.” She finishes with a wink. I grin from ear-to-ear. “I am ready too.” I say with a nod. I look over at my mom one last time and we head out to the lobby. I look at the doors. Behind those doors is the beautifully decorated church. All my friends and family. All his friends and family. Behind those doors, he is there. Waiting at the alter.

My brother, Joseph, comes up next to me and gives me a hug. “You ready, Lili-pad?” He asks using my childhood nickname. I nod smiling at him. We link arms and get in line. Stephanie, my maid of honor, and Calum, his best man, link arms as well and give us a smile. I take a breath and exhale slowly. All the preparations and planning. All the different flower decor and candles we looked at and finally this is it.

“All right everyone! It’s time!” My mom hurriedly said fixing people’s ties and dress skirts. Joseph gives my arm a comforting squeeze and smiles at me. Then I hear the piano. Here Comes The Bride plays beautifully by one of my very talented friend, Luke. My stomach flips as the doors open. Stephanie and Calum go first, then my mom, and then it’s Joseph and my turn. I look forward and there he is, he looks absolutely stunning. His eyes lock with mine and the biggest grin pulls across his face.

Then

His hands gripped at my hips greedily as he pushed me against the wall, forcefully kissing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck while my hands got buried in his curls. His tongue was soft and warm against mine. the pressure his tongue put felt nice. His hips pressed up to mine, grinding them slowly causing me to whine into his mouth. He let out a breathy moan and pulled away looking at me with lust in his eyes. “Can we continue in your room?” I nodded and pulled him down the hallway to my room. We got into the room and he didn’t waste anytime. Picking me up and pressing my body up against the wall so he could continue what we were doing in the kitchen. His hips grounded into mine making me lean my head back letting it rest on the wall. Ashton started kissing up my neck and all over trying to find a soft spot. He knew he found it when I let out a groan as he sucked on the skin above my collarbone. I savored the feeling of his tongue on my heated skin and his hands on my ass holding me up. I liked the feeling of his hard cock pressed against my clothed pussy and the way he rubbed against me. I let out a breathy sigh. It had been, so long. So long since the last guy I’d been with. I had tried to get off myself but I struggle to reach the climax I want. I push his head away from chest so I could unbutton my shirt to pull it off. He still held me waiting. I got it off and through it aimlessly somewhere. My tits pressed against his chest and he groaned.

“Need to get this off.” He muttered as he tried to hold me up and get my bra off. I lightly chuckled at him and slightly tapped his arm subtly telling him to put me down. He got the message and set me down, but he kept his hands on my hips as he dipped his head down and sucked the skin on my neck creating a red mark. I reached behind me and unhooked my bra and slipped it off. His didn’t falter, but his hands slid up my torso to my chest. His hands squeezed and massaged them making me moan. “Oh God,” I said “bed, please.” He removed his head from my neck and captured my lips in his. His hands moved back to me hips as he slowly backed me up to the bed. The edge pushed on my knees and I slowly sat down as he crawled on top of me, forcing me to lie down. His hand slid down my body to my underwear, he slipped into them and rubbed figure eights on my clit cause me to groan out and grip onto his shoulders. He smirked and smoothly slid off my shorts and undies leaving me naked.

He leaned down and let out a warm breathe on my core and I groaned out.

“H-hey, you have to many clothes on.” I tried to say while playing with the collar of his shirt. He sat up and pulled off his shirt and I ogled at him. Abs prominent and his V-line leading into his pants made my mouth water thinking of what it led to. He chuckled and came back down not wasting time on connecting his mouth on to my sex. My hands went to his hair tugging on it making him moan. His moan sounded so pretty and I tugged trying to get him to do it again. He nuzzled his face and I let out a squeak. I felt him smile and do it again. My legs tightened around his head and he used his hands to push them back down and held them there. I was a moaning mess. I was really close. My legs were shaking and my hands didn’t know what to do so I shoved them into the sheets gripping hard. “A-Ashton I- I am close.” I groaned out. He didn’t say anything, he just went faster. “Ah fuck.” I yelled out as my body shook from the orgasm that hit me hard. Ashton slowed down and just kitten licked my clit causing little shocks to go through my body. He slowly licked up my pelvis, to my naval, he moved up my body to me chest focusing on my nipple. I hummed at the sweet feeling and played with the hair on his nape. He looked up at me while he took my nipple into his mouth sucking harshly. My eyes were closed as I felt him. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. He came up and kissed me. His tongue slipped into my mouth quickly and I worked on his pants trying to get the button. He helped me and slid them off throwing them on the floor. The tent in his boxers was prominent and it made me squirm. He sat on his knees as he palmed himself trying to release the tension. I watched him throw his head back and sigh. I crawled over to him and pushed his hand away. He looked down at me and pushed my hair away from the face with his other hand. I traced my finger on his chest, slowly tracing it down is tummy to his boxers. I patted his hand and he moved it away, letting me palm his hard on. He hissed as I pulled down his boxers and his cock came out, extremely hard and leaking. I stared at it in awe. He was so pretty. I grabbed the base of his cock and he tensed up. I brought my mouth up to him doing little licks to the tip teasing him. He didn’t seem very phased and I wanted a reaction so I took the tip into my mouth sucking. He moaned and gripped the back of my head pushing me down onto him, making me take more into my mouth. I groaned as he pushed me down more making my eyes water. My throat restricted around him making me gag. He moaned more but let go of my head so I could breathe easier. I pulled away quickly catching my breath looking to him to find him watching me intently. I gave him innocent eyes and he grabbed my arms quickly flipping me over. “Do you have a condom?” I asked him and he nodded, looking around. He got off the bed and grabbed his pants pulling out his wallet to pull out the foil wrapper. He opens in and slid it on. He came back to me and kissed up my neck. “You okay? You still want to do this?” He asked and I nodded fast. “Tell me with your words, please.” He growled into my ear. “Yes, yes please, please Ashton.” I pleaded. He was happy with this answer. He pushed into me slowly. We both moaned at the feeling. I wrapped my arms and legs around him pulling him closer as he thrusts became faster and harder. My moans were quited by his mouth on mine. His tongue licking into my mouth. Shaky breathes were exchanged as we both reached our climax.

Now

The man I love stands before me. His tux fits perfectly and it looks gorgeous on him. He smiles at me as we let the priest talk.

“Do you, Ashton Fletcher Irwin, take Lilian Nicole Baxter as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Ashton looks away from me to the priest and nods “I do.” The priests nods and looks to me. “Do you, Lilian Nicole Baxter, take Ashton Fletcher Irwin, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Ashton smiles at me. My heart was beating so fast.

“I know pronounce you, husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” Ashton lurched forward and grabbing me by my arms, kisses me. I kiss my husband and sigh in the bliss as family and friends clap and cheer.

The ceremony went perfectly and everyone now idly spread out around the service hall, talking amongst one another, or dancing. Ashton and I sat next to each other watching everyone have a good time. Ashton leaned into me and nuzzles his face into my neck. I hummed feeling his warm breathe on my neck. He left sweet kisses on my shoulder up to my jaw. My hand reached around him and played with his hair. “My beautiful wife,” he mumbled into my skin, “all mine, forever and always.”

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diveronarpg · 6 years

Photo

Congratulations, HONEY! You’ve been accepted for the role of PARIS with a faceclaim change to Luke Pasqualino. Admin Jen: I had high expectations for Priam as he’s such a nuanced, multi-faceted character but you exceeded them by leaps and bounds, Honey! You captured all the concepts that I was hoping to see someone explore and unravel such as his identity, search for purpose and moral ambiguity and you added all these little details that built off of that but also made the characterization wholly yours. My favorite one was the detail regarding his knack for fixing up cars and the backstory you built off of that in terms of his family’s corporation. I can honestly keep going for hours because there was just too much to love about your app. It’s left me absolutely thrilled to see how you’ll develop him on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Honey

Age | 22

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I’m a final year college student who’s doing a short film as my final project, which might take up some time. But I’m taking less classes this semester so that kind of evens out the workload a little. I’d place my activity level at about a 6 (maybe even 7 if I’m feeling particularly inspired) out of 10.

Timezone | GMT +8

Current/Past RP Accounts | apcstasies.tumblr.com

In Character

Character | PARIS ; Priam Taravella (FC: Luke Pasqualino)

What drew you to this character?

The fact that everything about Priam is manufactured, a carefully curated collection of personality traits and mannerisms that he can turn on and off at will whenever it suits his purpose. By all intents and purposes – be it business or personal – Priam is a self-made man. But even though his perfectly-crafted veneer is his greatest strength, paradoxically, it is also his biggest weakness. There is a void inside him, a hollow point that eats away at him. It is a slow decay, but it consumes nonetheless. Personally, I feel that this emptiness he feels is a lack of human connection, and for all his ambition and apparent desire to rise to power, what he truly seeks is a sense of belonging. Priam wants so badly to be seen, but ironically the way he makes himself visible is by putting on a mask.

I feel like he probably struggles a lot with his upbringing and his resentment towards his parents. On the one hand, he’s very aware that as far as childhoods go, his isn’t terrible. He grew up extremely privileged and never wanted for anything (besides his parents’ affection, but that’s besides the point). Sure, it sucked that his parents were distant and that he’s had all these expectations placed on his shoulders from such a young age, but Priam is very aware of the fact that there are many people who would give anything to trade lives with him. He was deeply unhappy with his life growing up, and when he was younger he had been more inclined to complain about how much he hated his life, as children are wont to do, but then everyone around him constantly reminded him how lucky he was and so he learned to bury his discontentment. He carried his unhappiness inside him like a cancer, letting it fester until he was sick with it.

I also find his potential struggles with self-identity to be a compelling part of his character. At what point does the mask become the man? When does the line between the part he plays and his true self start to blur? Does he ever catch himself in the middle of a moment and think–– am I still pretending, or is this truly the man that I have become?

+ Bonus: I just find it amusing that he’s named Priam.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

TENDER LIKE A BRUISE

Love is an abstract concept that Priam can’t quite grasp and it shows. Still, there is a part of Priam that believes in love. Perhaps it is because he’s never had it that he wants it this badly, or perhaps it is the way he’s heard Julianna speak of love. Romantics talk about all-encompassing love, the kind of love that consumes you until you can think of nothing else except your dearly beloved and being with them. Priam is no stranger to being consumed, except it is poison that fills his veins and a monster within that eats at him inside out. As a teen, he’d thought that he could fill the void inside of him with love, only he never quite understood what love meant. He’d confused love with lust and, sleeping with girls, and boys, and girls and boys, but even if it kept the hunger at bay for a little while, the emptiness alwayscrept back in. Whether Priam realises it or not, he wants Juliana to be the one who might finally be able to carve a home in his ribs. Maybe they’re not in love, but when he’s with her, something in his chest settles, and maybe, maybe, maybe, that will be enough.

WE MUST BE KILLERS

Priam’s never had much of an appetite for violence, but if there’s anything he’s learned from his parents, it’s that the means are always justified by the ends. And if that’s the case, then what’s a little bit of spilt blood in the grand scheme of things? But just because he can understand the necessity for violence doesn’t mean he’s any more willing to be an active participant. He’s a hypocrite and a coward; he may not ever be the one pulling the trigger, but he is the one who looks away and lets it happen. It makes the ugly parts of the job easier to stomach, soothes his conscience some. But things are changing, tensions are rising, to remain passive is to bare your neck your enemy and pray they won’t tear your throat out. Priam is a survivor, and if it comes down to killing someone or being killed, he knows which side of the line he wants to fall on. He’s a liar, he’s manipulative, he’s ruthless –– he’s never been a killer, but perhaps it’s time to change that.

SHIFTING IN THE LIGHT

Despite being neck-deep in the corruption of Verona, he likes to think that he has some morals, or at least a sort of ethical code that he follows. People like him are the worst, criminals who refuse to acknowledge themselves as such. For Priam, part of the reason is pride, but fear is a factor as well, even if he won’t admit it. He had been the one to go to Cosimo, and the man has always treated him as something of a son, but sometimes he does wonder if he’s sold his soul to the devil and it’s days like those that he can’t bear to look himself in the eyes. But Priam can’t run from the person he’s become forever. One day he’s going to look in the mirror and not recognise himself, and he’ll wonder if maybe the mask is stuck, or if he’s just become the mask. He’s grown into a man, hardly recognisable as the little boy he used to be, and only time will tell whether that’s a good or bad change.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve killed off one of my characters : )))

(That means yes, please feel free to kill Priam.)

In Depth

In-Character Interview:

• What is your favourite place in Verona?

“My favourite place?” Priam echoes. The slight twist of his lips hints at amusement, but it is the sort of indulgent humour one might direct at a particularly precocious two-year-old. It’s an expression that borders on condescension, but the reporter is either oblivious to it or doesn’t much care, continuing to watch him with expectant eyes. Over the years Priam has found that people are usually too enamoured by his pretty face to really notice the ugly parts of him that lurk underneath the surface, and it feels like a challenge, almost –– sometimes he toes the line just to see how much he can get away with by virtue of being young and beautiful.

“You’re standing in it,” he finally answers, the words accompanied by a vague sweeping gesture of his hand, inviting the reporter to take a proper look at the garage they’re currently in. This is the first time anyone other than him has been in there, and a part of Priam tingles with the wrongness of a stranger in a space that had before this been only for him. Still, it’s a small sacrifice he has to make. People love to be reminded that the rich are regular people with regular hobbies behind the glamour of wealth, and if Priam throws them a bone now, it’ll keep them from digger further into other truths he’d rather not divulge. “I apologise for the mess, by the way,” he adds, allowing a sheepishness he doesn’t actually feel to seep into his voice, “I probably should have cleaned up a little, but it slipped my mind. Don’t usually let people in here, y’know?” Hook, line, and sinker, Priam thinks, watching the man flush slightly at the implication that he’s the exception.

• What does your typical day look like?

“A lot of paperwork,” he answers with a laugh, and then, “No, really. I left Taravella Corporation because I got tired of sitting around in an office all day. Albeit it was a very nice office, but I’ve always been more of a hands-on kind of guy.” He pauses to pick up a wrench from his worktable, pretending not to notice the double entendre, or the way the reporter’s gaze catches on his fingers as they wrap around the shaft of the wrench.

“I traded aerospace for automotive, thinking with a smaller company I’d get to be more involved with the actual manufacturing process, but I still spend most of my day signing papers.” He looks up from the car then, sharing a wry smile with the reporter before adding, almost cheekily, “Except now I get to do it in a smaller office.” Despite the reporter being the only other person in the room, Priam lowers his voice anyway, letting the reduced volume provide the illusion of candour. “Some might say it’s a downgrade, but it’s nice to have a space that finally feels like it’s mine. It sounds silly, but back at T-Corp, I always felt like I was just messing around in my old man’s chair.”

“Anyway,” he says, talking normally once more, “After work I like to grab some drinks with my friends, maybe dinner with my fiancée if I end early enough. I’m really not all that different from other guys in their twenties.” If other guys his age routinely met up with members of one of Verona’s most well-known mobs, of course, but he decides to leave that last bit off the record.

• What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“I accidentally wore mismatched socks to work once,” he deadpans, and then more seriously, “I suppose it depends on how one defines ‘mistake’, but to me, a mistake is something you wish you could undo.” He ducks under the open hood even as he continues to talk despite previously having made it a point to make eye contact whenever he answered a question, knowing that the reporter will interpret it as him feeling more comfortable being honest when he’s not actually looking at the person he’s talking to.

“For a while, I had wondered if leaving the family business had been a mistake,” he admits, sounding genuine even as he lies through his teeth. Priam had never been more sure of anything, determined to forge his own path to the top without the burden of his family’s legacy weighing him down. “But that worked out pretty well for me, I’d say, so no regrets there.”

• What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“Picture this––” he starts, “You’re five years old and your father brings you to work.” It’s perhaps his earliest memory of his father. Before that, the man had been a mere spectre in Priam’s life, the bogeyman that his nannies had used to keep him in line. Your father wouldn’t want you to use that word, or keep your voice down, your father’s resting in his office. That day at Taravella Corporation’s main office had been the first time they’d spent more than half an hour in the same room. Back then, Priam had thought it had been some sort of a father-son bonding experience, but he knows better now.

“He showed me around, brought me to all the different departments before he took me to his personal office. There, he said to me: this will all be yours someday.” On some nights, he can still hear his father’s voice, still remembers grappling with the realisation that he’s not so much a son as he is the heir to an empire he never asked for. It’s not a happy memory, but he recounts the tale with a carefully calculated smile that’s just this side of sheepish and a half-shrug, proud and self-deprecating all at once, “That’s quite a lot to ask of a young boy, don’t you think?”

• What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

War. It’s such an ugly word, but there’s hardly any point debating the reporter’s choice of words when it’s the truth. Priam is under no illusions –– while the interview might have been disguised as a spread on one of Verona’s most successful young entrepreneurs, this one question is the true crux of it all. But he wouldn’t be such an invaluable piece on the Capulets’ chessboard if he hadn’t been well-versed in the art of lies and half-truths, and that ability is sure to serve him well now.

“If you think that I have anything profound to say just because I’m engaged to Juliana, then I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” He places his wrench back down, walking away from the open hood of the car to lean against the passenger side door instead, allowing the reporter an unobstructed view of him. His stance is carefully neutral, arms at his side, nothing in his posture to suggest that he has anything to hide. “I’m a businessman, I make and sell cars,” he starts, but knows that there’s no way he can get away with not commenting on the issue at all. “That being said, my family has always been close to the Capulets, so. Whatever Cosimo and Juliana are doing, I trust that they’re doing the right thing.”

“Speaking of my fiancée––” Priam straightens up suddenly, his tone returning to it’s earlier light-heartedness as his lips pull into a grin. “I’m supposed to meet her for lunch today, and I should probably wash off all this grease before I do that. I assume we’re done here?” It’s phrased as a question, but combined with the slight raise of a single eyebrow, it’s clear that it’s a dismissal more than anything else. The reporter’s smart enough to catch on, nodding in agreement as he thanks Priam for his time.

Extras:

Taravella Corporation is an aerospace engineering company, mostly dealing with the manufacturing of commercial planes, but they have the occasional military contract as well as an R&D department that’s looking into space travel

After leaving T-Corp, Priam went and set up Argentum, an automotive engineering company that produces some of the most innovative luxury cars in the world

In his youth, Priam had a brief stint with street racing. It had been an attempt to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness inside of him, and for a while it worked. Now, occasionally he’ll drive over the speed limit, but he’s not nearly as reckless anymore

Really good at poker but we’ll probably never actually get to see this in a thread (besides maybe a passing mention) because I have no idea how to play poker despite having been taught multiple times

Sexy and he knows it !

I wish I could end this app on a more coherent and/or profound note but it’s 4 in the morning and I just want to write a fake ass hoe whose entire existence can be boiled down to: was unloved as a child and now has no idea how basic human emotions work

He tries though, really

#accepted: paris #accepted

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pklove-archive · 7 years

Text

some rambling about TLJ w/spoilers under the readmore.

now that im awake and not TOO dead exhausted I do, to be perfectly honest have some criticisms for TLJ. I didnt hate all of it but honestly... it was.. kind of weird as a movie.

I have a couple of questions (and complaints) honestly...

Like, why would they kill off Snoke so soon?? We barely knew jack shit about him?? wth

As cute Rose and Finn were at a glance together, their chemistry or w/e clicked too fast for my taste, it felt rushed.

Honestly?? The screen time between characters felt so fucking disproportionate !! So much of tht felt like.. centered on kylo’s “struggle” pr w/e

speaking of the guy, I know a lot of ppl hate tht guy for good reason, hell im not really happy with how much he got screen time wise it almost felt like it was unnecessarily dragged out. Especially for someone who looked ready to pull some darkside ish shit.

idk what else to put my memory sucks but this is all i can think of,

NOW, onto shit I really did like!

Some of the little quips and humor? Fun honestly! I like humor in my sci-fi.

I almost cried when yoda and luke were watching the stuff burn and the fire almost burning in the shape of the jedi order symbol. I really love TCW era stuff a lot so it definitely it a place in me

Seeing Leia use the force??? My gal I would do fucking anything for you I love you dearly I almost started crying then too

The projection shit with Luke, while painful to witness, I was just blown away. Im emo as hell abt my skywalkers

THAT FUCKING CRAZY ASS SACRIFICE WITH HOLDO AND THE CRUISER WAS FUCKIN NUTS!!! The silence captured the moment wonderfully. I sat there in silence with tears on ym face

Finn’s victory against phasma? wonderful, beautiful and I love him. He absolutely deserved that victory and Im so fucking proud and happy to see hi character have so many good achievements. a true legend in the making

While Im not a fan of rose and finn’s rushed assumable romantic ish relationship?... thing? I love Rose as a character, I really hope to see more of her in the next movie.

That kid in the very last scene from behind reminded me of ani for a sec and it killed me inside. Nice

ANYWAY thanks for coming to my ted talk this is my take on the movie.

#TLJ spoilers/-#the last jedi spoilers/-

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walkofpenance · 4 years

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Sorry if this has been asked before... but your top 5 characters of Game of Thrones and Handmaid’s tale and why? And also what are some of the other shows you like?

HELLO!!! I can make gifs of these aswell if you like but!!

Game of Thrones

#1 Cersei Lannister - Cersei has always been my favourite character because there is ALWAYS something interesting about her, she has a complex personality where one side you root for her (against the High Sparrow & his group) but one side you detest her (her treatment on Tyrion, Margaery, Sansa, people in general) and that makes up for a perfect character in my eyes! I was always interested in Cersei’s character & her past and was REALLY disappointed how the show ended her story and cutting the Volanqar prophecy which I was OBSESSED with for years :) But oh well! It’s not made me love Cersei any less

#2 Sandor ‘The Hound’ Clegane - I LOVE The Hound so much! Honestly he’s a fantastic character, and one (wait, who isn’t damaged in this show) who is PHYSICALLY scarred by what his brother did to him! He makes you REALLY root for him to get that revenge on his brother and his character growth when he’s with Arya, and how he looks out for Sansa makes him one of my favourites. A few years back I really wasn’t too fussed on The Hound, but in recent years (especially after Season 8) I have really grown to LOVE him. Like Cersei, not perfect but that makes for a great character

#3 Sansa Stark - I remember Sansa being the first character to get me fully invested in the show when Joffrey forced her to look up at Ned, I always found her character EASY to root for, too! Her growth in character is evident onscreen, and in a way she is like.... the VIEWER of the story, she is watching people, learning from them and I think that’s why people can easily relate to her. I mean in Season One I found her annoying as hell and still do but once Ned’s beheading happens there was no going back on me loving her to bits, I rooted for her to win the entire game and I’m still sort of butthurt that she didn’t because we watched her go from a whiny little girl to somebody who learned how to play the Game of Thrones! She’s honestly fantastic

#4 Davos Seaworth - I don’t even know why I love Davos so much, other than the fact he is just... So PURE??? He is amazing! His bond with Shireen will forever warm my heart, and not only that but what other character easily slots into other groups of characters than DAVOS? It’s not like... Tyrion & Daenerys meeting, or Jaime & Melisandre meeting, any character who Davos meets there’s just something... There’s just something about him. Similar to the Hound, I really couldn’t have cared less for Davos during my first watch of the show but genuinely I have a lot of love for this character, he’s just PURE and he’s never annoying. I love Melisandre, but Davos’ reaction to finding out what happened to Shireen will forever break my heart. Who does NOT love Davos?? I mean, come on!

#5 Theon Greyjoy - This spot I was debating between Daenerys, Tyrion, Jaime, Jon, Margaery but honestly Theon is one of my favourites, I mean don’t get me wrong I hate his UGLY personality in Seasons 1 and 2 but seeing how remorseful he is for his actions against the Stark’s and his treatment at the hands of Ramsay breaks my heart. He did bad but he didn’t deserve torture or to be dehumanised. He went from a hateful character to a genuine hero. I remember one negative for me about Season 4 was the lack of Theon, I was rooting for him to escape from the minute Ramsay waved a sausage at him! And thank god it all paid off!

(I love all the characters in their own way! For ‘Recurring Characters’ I would say my favourites are Olenna, Oberyn, Pod, Yara & Shireen! Special mentions to Daenerys, Tyrion, Jaime, Jon, Margaery, Tywin who I love dearly, too)

The Handmaid’s Tale

#1 Serena Joy Waterford - It actually makes me feel a bit sick putting Serena here but I’m a sucker for a female villain who you can feel sorry for but at the same time DESPISE, Serena for me is the character I can’t wait to see what happens next to EVER, whether it be... An episode, series, whatever! I can’t wait to see what’s next for her in Season 4. I mean, sure, her treatment of June and women in general is disgusting, but she really just wants a baby... And plus her abuse at the hands of Fred don’t tell me that people weren’t screaming at the TV at Fred for that! Again, like Cersei, she has some despicable moments but as a character I LOVE watching her, I LOVE Serena!

#2 June Osborne - I know like Serena, people hate June, with Serena I understand but June I honestly... Don’t understand why????? June is one of few characters to truly root for in the show, she is a heroine and NEVER puts herself first like some of the other characters (Hi, Fred!). Always putting her life on the line for others, I find her the perfect protagonist for a TV series. The contrast of her relationship with Fred to Joseph, I find her story to be REALLY interesting, I want her to escape Gilead and live happily ever after with Luke, Hannah & Nichole but honestly... I’ve accepted that she will die at the end of the series now :) Which sucks

#3 Emily Malek - I LOVE EMILY!!!!!!!!! Her scene of her being mutilated was the first thing I remember about this show and ever since I’ve rooted for her to get some form of justice (which she did, thank fuck)! Honestly I just want everything good for Emily, and I don’t get why her wife was so arsey with her when she eventually found refuge in Canada :SS I love her :( And her surprise return in the Colonies was a personal highlight for me, not because she was in the Colonies but because she was ALIVE!!!

#4 Rita - A character who doesn’t get enough story, I really want to know about Rita’s life before Gilead because I guarantee there’s something about her to be revealed (nothing bad, of course!) A support for June during her time with the Waterford’s, I really REALLY adore Rita, she’s not got a single bad bone in her body and that’s rare with characters on TV! Hopefully we see more of her in Season 4!

#5 Commander Joseph Lawrence - WHAT A CHARACTER!! I will say that one thing the show is weak at is introducing new characters you can truly root for. Eden I felt SO sorry for in the end but I always found her irritating as hell, Ofmatthew was annoying as hell too, but Joseph... he just ticks all of the boxes! He is interesting, and for 2 seasons NOBODY knew what the hell his business was. I also think he supported Mayday because he wants to seek redemption, which I’m sure he will earn!

Honourable mentions areee Luke, Moira, JANINE!

Other shows I like are Doctor Who, Black Mirror, LOST, The Walking Dead, Orange is the New Black, Stranger Things, The OA, The Haunting of Hill House, there are more!

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