Tumgik
#and it must have been good enough if it reminded made me think of choices lmao
ashshmee · 2 months
Text
choices is like if the song of achilles and normal people had a child and it turned out to be a harry potter fanfiction
36 notes · View notes
drvscarlett · 12 days
Text
About You Pt6
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
A/N: okay so the draft did not save itself that's why i made a quick edit and just post this one. I hope you enjoy this
Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods
Tumblr media
2010, Interlagos
"Honey we have to stop meeting like this" Jenson grins as he opens his hotel room.
Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around the British driver. Media be damned but she was extremely worried about Jenson when she heard what happened. She couldn't stop messaging people to ask him if he was okay or what. Even Mark has been worried when she told him what happened.
"Are you okay? You aren't hurt or anything?" Y/N asked worriedly.
"I'm alive and well"Jenson said, closing the door "maybe a little bruised ego from not being able to compete for the championship"
"Oh championship be damned Jense, you almost got kidnapped"Y/N exclaimed
Jenson could only chuckle. He admits he was a bit spooked by what happened but it is what it is. However, he was extremely grateful that Y/N has been worried enough to check up on him and assures that he is okay.
"Just join me for a little drink and lets talk about our day"Jenson suggested "Wine, beer, whiskey?"
"Beer would be fine" Y/N answered.
For all the times that Jenson have gone drinking with Y/N, he knows that her preference was more on wine. He could never forget it because who else than Y/N orders a wine on a bar or a nightclub.
"Tough day?" Jenson wondered
"Not as bad as being kidnapped" Y/N drinks up.
"Touché"
The two friends conversed for the night. Jenson opened up how it felt for him that he isn't able to extend his championship streak. He was not at all disappointed because he performed well and he just missed it out with this race. Y/N is a good listener and became a good support for Jenson.
"What about you? You are in for the big race on Abu Dhabi"Jenson diverted the attention to the female Webber "The big question is who are you supporting"
"I'm neutral"
Jenson looked at her as if she grew two heads. He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.
"Oh c'mon your brother might win and you are still neutral about it?" Jenson questioned
"Well if you must know my bestfriend is also competing, Lewis is also competing and Fernando is also there" Y/N stated
Jenson raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He is not blind and he does not fall for the lies that Y/N is not choosing a side because she is friends with everyone competing. Y/N refuses to take a side because of the 'bestfriend.'
"You know its going to be historic, four drivers vying for a championship" Jenson informs "I think this is the first time that this happened"
"A lot of pressure for those wanting to win" Y/N agrees.
"You are feeling it all Y/N?" Jenson asked.
Y/N could just give out a sigh as a response. She knows that she won't be sleeping well with the whole thing happening. Its bound to happen that someone will not be fast enough and lose. Then there is also the possibility that someone will win the race and be crowned as champion.
With everything down the wire, no one could predict what will happen.
"You have to make a choice you know" Jenson reminded "What if Mark wins, what if Sebastian wins?"
"We can't have them both as world champions?" Y/N joked
"Maybe for different seasons"Jenson offered.
It was impossible for either of the driver to secure that. Given how the things are in Red Bull. They will favor whoever brings them the first championship and then place the other as their second driver.
"Y/N its just going to be much more difficult after this"Jenson straightforwardness sobered Y/N up a little "You have to stay strong and pick a side"
"I don't want to pick a side Jense, they both deserve a championship"Y/N stays firm "They are both incredible and fantastic drivers. If one of them wins, I'll be happy but I know my heart also aches for the one who misses out that championship"
This was the thing that Jenson admired about Y/N. She is supportive and loyal like that, its quite rare in the field. He gave her a comforting hug as they continue drinking their woes away.
2010, Yas Marina
It was early morning of the qualifying day when Y/N received the email. She was very much surprised upon receiving the email because she had to blink a couple of times to make sure that she is reading it correctly.
From: McLaren Racing
Subject: Job vacancy.
"Oh I am so gonna kill you for this Jense"Y/N muttered.
One of the discussions during their drunk night in Brazil was that the possible solution to Y/N's problem is moving teams. Jenson suggested that there might be some vacant jobs in McLaren before the winter season begins.
And now this conveniently timed email that Y/N has been highly recommended by several employees for the position of Press Officer makes one think that Jenson took that advice seriously.
"Are you decent?" couple of knocks interrupted her "Can I come in?"
"Come on in Mark"
Mark has two cups of coffee in hand. He was already dressed and ready for his paddock appearance. Y/N could just chuckle at the role reversal because usually she was the one who is already dressed while Mark is the one begging for five more minutes to prepare.
"One brown sugar shaken espresso with 3 pumps of toffee nuts"Mark recited proudly.
"You remembered?"
Y/N was in glee as she takes in the cup of coffee. It was a kind of morning that really needs a coffee to help her throughout the day.
"No one drinks coffee as sugary like that, only you" Mark snickers.
"I just like my coffee sweet"Y/N defends.
Mark ends up sitting at one of the chairs. Y/N could read how his expression is a mix of confidence but deep down there is some kind of worry that he is trying to hide. It must be the championship nerves getting the best of him.
"You nervous?"Y/N asked her older brother.
"Its my only chance for a championship. It feels different" Mark answered.
Y/N wanted to say that its not true and there will be plenty of more chances in the start of a new season. However,she knew that this is the closest shot that Mark has to the championship ever since he entered Formula 1.
"I spoke to Sebastian last night" Mark brought it up.
The younger Webber immediately looked up with wide eyes. She knew that the two haven't been in speaking terms except when they have to or forced to talk with each other.
"We talked about you" Mark expanded.
"Me? Why am I even brought up into the conversation?"she was confused.
"Same question but it was Sebastian that first approached me" Mark explained "He talked about how win or lose, we should not put you into a bad spot because you are both important to us"
There Sebastian goes again making her heart skip a beat. Its these little things that mainly causes her to feel deeper and deeper for the German driver. Y/N felt really touched that despite the intense rivalry, he still cares.
"And I know I thought about it all night how I'm really making things difficult for you. So thanks for sticking up with me and I'll try to be much more easier to handle" Mark concludes.
"Oh brother" was all Y/N could say before hugging him.
It felt nice for the both of them that they have each other in the sports. Its the same reason why Y/N cannot answer the offer of Jenson to move into McLaren. If she leaves then how could she be there for her brother?
"Seb really cares a lot about you"Mark informs.
"He is just being a good....bestfriend" Y/N rebutted but she seems unconvinced with her own answer.
Mark knew that Sebastian has a big sense of pride. But whenever, Y/N comes to the picture then he will immediately melt. Mark could only chuckle because Y/N has no clue of the chokehold he has over Sebastian.
"Oh I think you are thinking too little about yourself"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N wondered
It was not Mark's business to play cupid. If Sebastian had the balls then he would have asked her without his help. He just gave a grin as he exited the room.
"Don't be late"Mark teased
"MARK WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"
Meanwhile, Sebastian is early to arrive at the paddock to avoid the media asking plenty of questions. He wanted to be stress-free today since he needs to put all his focus to this race because this is his chance to win the championship. He will be damned if he lets this slip by.
At the moment, he is sitting at the cafeteria which seems to be deserted by the crowd. He was enjoying his peaceful breakfast when a man in orange sat next to him.
"How are you feeling buddy?" Jenson asked too energetically for Sebastian's opinion.
"For a man no longer fighting for the championship, you seem more excited than me" Sebastian joked.
"Oh don't tell me you are nervous" Jenson teased "The Sebastian Vettel is nervous?"
Sebastian rarely gets nervous but this is one of those instances that he really feels the nerves getting the best of him. He finds it really out of his character. There is this heavy feeling in his chest that he may emerge victorious or a complete failure after this race.
"Don't tell anyone but you have my vote of confidence" Jenson whispered.
It was a bit of a boost to hear it from the 2009 World Champion, Sebastian gave him a quick hug which Jenson accepts. It was due to this closeness that Jenson noticed the silver necklace hanging on his neck.
A mischievous grin replaced Jenson's face as he knows there was only one person in this paddock that has that necklace.
"That's Y/N, isn't it?" Jenson snickers.
Just like that, the feeling of embarrassment spread in Sebastian's face. He was not embarrassed by the gift but rather he feels a little shy about anyone seeing his little lucky charm. He tucks it inside safely inside of his shirt.
"It is" Sebastian answered,playing it cool "How did you know?"
Knowing the dating history of Y/N and Jenson, he can feel a little green monster forming at his shoulders. Jenson must have been well-acquainted with Y/N that he paid close attention to notice details such as her necklace.
"Mate, when are you going to ask her out? It's been ages" Jenson asked.
"Excuse me?"
Sebastian was not expecting that. He immediately downed a water to hide his surprise.
"Don't tell me you still haven't made a move even after everything?"Jenson asked.
Jenson knew that Sebastian was someone very dear to Y/N. He had spent enough time with Y/N o figure out that its always the Webber family, Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull, then everyone else. That was how the list of priority of Y/N goes.
"She doesn't like me like that" Sebastian lies even though everything from that drunk confession still replays in Sebastian's head.
"You know what, if you win the championship then go and ask her out" Jenson challenged.
"Now you are putting even more pressure on me"
"C'mon now!" Jenson was exasperated "I'm not even accepting any cash prizes, just name your first child after me for being a good wingman"
"I'm gonna ignore you now Button" Sebastian's nonchalantly ended the conversation.
"Sebastian you can win the championship and the girl!" Jenson convincingly shouts.
Sebastian just gives him a shrug as he continues to eat. He smiles at the thought that maybe he will try Jenson's advice.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Victorious Vettel and a missing team mate.
Congratulations to the amazing drive of Sebastian Vettel which made him victorious from the four-way championship. He also boast two records with one being the youngest WDC champion and the other being Red Bull's first driver champion.
While celebrations are happening, it was evident that there was the absence of the Webber siblings. Mark Webber was seen congratulating Vettel the minute that they stepped out of the car. However, Mark wasn't seen after that and even in the parties. Also absent was Y/N Webber, dubbed as Sebastian's bestfriend. She was spotted in the Red Bull garage but she was absent as well during the celebrations.
Is there trouble brewing with the Webbers against the new world champion?
Seb: Hey, where are you? I have been looking for you everywhere Seb: Y/N are you there? sent by 8pm Seb: I'm going to the club with the team. I hope to see you there sent by 9:34 pm Y/N: Hi Seb! Congratulations with your WDC!! You know that I always believed that you will be a champion one day! I'm really really so happy and so proud of you. Y/N: I'm really sorry if I couldn't be there. I fainted around lap 45 but not to worry, its just my sugar levels. My phone went dead last night and I wasn't able to reply and congratulate right away. I'm really sorry. sent by 11:22 am Seb: Hey, I'm glad to hear you are okay. I just woke up from a massive hangover. I wish you have seen the party Seb: BTW, I have something to tell. Are you still at the hotel? sent by 2:06 pm Y/N: Oh, me and Mark took an early flight back to Melbourne. Parents were a bit worried. sent by 5:44 pm Seb: Okay see you. Y/N: What do you mean see you???? Seb: :)))))))))))))))))
It might be the high from winning the championship or maybe its the alcohol in his system but Sebastian was sure of his decisions.
Clothes are haphazardly thrown into the luggage while he conducts a quick sweep of the essentials he might need. He sent a quick text to everyone that might be needing him. As far as he knows, he has some time off before resuming with his media duties and such.
He is going to Australia.
186 notes · View notes
lanitalay · 6 months
Text
Before I Say Goodnight
Chapter 5
a/n: this one was fun for me. enjoy!!!
Other chapters
wordcount: 2.5k
Tumblr media
“Good morning” you sit across the table from him “what’s for breakfast?” He picks up a piece of toast from his plate and flashes you a sleepy smile and says “anything you like”. Magic house, right. “In that case, I’d like a cinnamon roll, an omelet, hot chocolate and orange juice” placing your hands on the table as the list of food begins to appear in front of you. You half waited for Azriel to make a comment about your choice of breakfast but he only said “a cinnamon roll sounds really good right now” and then his own plate appeared. A giggle, an actual giggle, escaped your lips. Get a grip. “Cheers” you motion with your bun and he returns the gesture. “If Cassian sees me having simple carbs for breakfast he’ll make me run an extra ten miles at training tomorrow” his eyes have gone wide and it reminds you of the kid you used to babysit when you would take him to the ice cream shop on the way home from school. “The super fit general doesn’t like a sweet treat?” you ask between bites. “It’s not that he doesn’t like sweets but when he gets in his trainer mindset he becomes a pain in the ass” you snort “and I’m guessing you have a sweet tooth?” he nods once “it’s my only weakness” you roll your eyes and smile as you keep eating. Everything was delicious, you basically inhaled the cinnamon roll and hot chocolate. As you push those dishes away they vanish. This house freaking rules. You go to eat the omelet as Azriel asks “How did you find your room?” “Oh it’s beautiful and the bed is very comfy” he continues “did you sleep well?” You shake your head “well, once I fell asleep it was fine but I was up until late tossing and turning”. “I’m sure this has been difficult to process” you sip the orange juice, throat suddenly feeling dry “uhm, yeah it feels fake, all of this and last night was the first night I got the chance to think without being distracted or interrupted and… I was just overwhelmed” Azriel nodded and you jumped a little as you felt a cooling sensation against your cheek “sorry, they usually don’t bother people” he said and pulled his shadows away from you. You bring your hand up and notice the tear tracks. I must be dehydrated from all this crying. Lightly laughing you say “I don't even notice when I cry anymore, before I got here I don’t remember the last time I cried and I can’t seem to stop” another laugh slips as another shadow swipes the last falling tear. “I can’t even begin to understand how you feel, but if you want my opinion, I think you’ve been incredibly resilient”  he gets up from the table “I’ll see you later” and walks away. You can’t help but feel a little embarrassed crying in front of him before the day has even begun. 
“You must be y/n! Nesta told me you’d be joining us today” after breakfast and a little bit of walking about the house trying to remember where everything was. Feyre had found you and informed you that the priestesses were ready to begin. “I”m Gwyn” she held out her hand and offered you a million dollar smile. You shook her hand and offered her a five dollar smile in return. “Well, follow me,” she walked you through shelves and shelves of ancient looking volumes and tomes and from what you gathered these books could very well be thousands of years old. The thought made you feel very small. “I have taken it upon myself to take charge of this project and put together a small group to find out how to get you home” she said the last few words in a whisper. So the portal business is not for everyone to know, makes sense. You spend the next few hours meeting the other priestesses and beginning the search for books that might have what you’re looking for. By lunchtime you are starving and in need of fresh air. 
You opt for lunch on your balcony. But regret it almost immediately, the peace and quiet opening the floodgates of your mind and soon enough you’ve lost your appetite. Sighing, you get up from the little table and walk into the room. You grab your bag and empty it out on the bed. You had some snacks, your water bottle, an extra pair of socks you had forgotten about, your wallet, passport, sunglasses, phone and sunscreen. That was it. This is it. You place everything that you have to your name in the drawer of your bedside table and resist the urge to cry again. There’s still a full day ahead. The despair quiets down as you return to the library and are consumed by the work. 
After a full day of research you feel like your mind is going to explode. This will take months, if we’re lucky. You return to the dining room and see Cassian, Azriel and who you could only assume is Nesta already eating. “Y/n! Meet my mate, Nesta” Cassian excitedly points to the female beside him. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you” you try to muster up some energy but the defeat in your voice and your face is obvious. “It’s nice to meet you as well, I apologize I wasn’t here yesterday but I assume everything has gone well with the house?” At that you can’t help the enthusiastic nod “the house is fantastic”. You start to make yourself a plate and they return to their conversation but you don’t really listen to what they say. You keep going over and over it. Before you got here, before you stepped on that circle- there was something there. But you hadn’t seen anything, not a shadow, not a footprint, nothing. But the quiet… whatever it was, it was a predator that had scared off all but one prey. Maybe it was a trap. You feel sick. Oh god. “Y/n? You’re pale” Azriel’s voice snaps you from your spiral and you see the three of them sharing the same concerned look. I hate that look. “I’m just tired, it’s been… a long day” you try to finish your dinner but between their worried glances and your lack of appetite you can’t do it. “I’m gonna call it a night, guys” you say and walk to your room. 
The next few days are a blur of the same routine: breakfast with Azriel and sometimes Nesta, research, lunch, research, dinner, sleep. On the third day Azriel is the only one at breakfast “do you only have two changes of clothes?” You furrow your brows at him, “yes” last night had been the second sleepless one and you were in no mood to be tested. “I can take you into town if you’d like, get you something else to add to the rotation” you appreciated his offer, truly, the dress and the leggings were getting old “thanks, but I have no currency or goods or services that I can exchange for new clothes. These will have to do” you start drinking your tea, the only thing you could stomach since yesterday. “Y/n, you are an official guest of the Night Court. You can charge whatever you need or want to the High Lord” Oh “I did not know that. I’ve never been an official guest of anything. But still, you’ve already given me too much”. He stays serious as he says “We leave after you finish breakfast” he pushes a cinnamon roll in front of you. “I guess we can leave now” he doesn’t move “you’re not going to eat?” You shake your head “I’d love to but I am not hungry at all” he looks at you square in the face and you know he can see through the paper thin mask you’ve put on. “Very well, let’s go then”. 
“Do you prefer pants or skirts?” Azriel asked as you walked through a very busy part of Velaris. “Well it depends, I like skirts for leisurely activities and pants for everything else” Azriel looked around, he seemed just as lost as you were “fair enough”. “Azriel, do you know where we’re going?” He placed his hand on your back to guide you through the crowd “of course I do”. You say nothing. Both of us seem to be in a mood today. “Here we are,” he points to a quiet looking storefront “Feyre and Nesta talk about this shop a lot”. You walk in and see a mixture of textiles, prints and cuts that revive a part of you that has been dormant for a while. “Oh my god, this is great” Azriel lets out a breath and says “go crazy” and you do. Two hours and three full bags later you walk out of the shop. “I feel like I went overboard, we should return half of these things” you go turn around but Azriel’s wing stops you from walking any further. “Nonsense,  you need the clothes, now we need to get you some new shoes” you look at your boots “what’s wrong with these?” He walks into a shoe shop “nothing is wrong with them, but don’t you want something more comfortable?” You would like some slippers and maybe something cute to wear with the dresses “alright, if you insist”. As you walk towards the displays you miss the smile that ghosts over Azriel’s face. 
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Azriel. Getting out of the house and the library was just what the doctor ordered” you say as you bite down on a cinnamon roll that you had ordered at a little bakery. “A change of scenery is always nice I suppose” you nod and keep eating. “Y/n, feel free to not answer if you don’t want to but what is your world like?” Dammit, just as I was having a nice time. You sip some tea, your throat having gone dry yet again. Breathe, come one. In. Out. “It’s ok. Well for starters there’s no magic. There is war, famine, illness. But we also have so much beauty. Where I’m from the trees are always green and the sky is constantly blue. We have beaches and rivers. I was traveling before I got here, and I saw a bit of the world away from my home and it was beautiful. Similar to this, but the stars felt like a painting and these feel like living beings. We have art and I guess the most recent advancement has been the internet, but that’s a whole other conversation. There are so many animals, we keep some as pets. I had or have a dog. But there are monkeys and dolphins and butterflies and oh- we move around by cars or planes or trains mainly. We have horses but ever since the industrial revolution they aren’t the main form of transportation” you talked for what felt like hours, by the end your throat was sore from overuse. Azriel had listened to it all and had committed every detail to memory. Even if he didn't understand the internet or how planes flew without magic. 
 After the snack break Azriel let you know that you were going to have lunch at the River House with Feyre and Elain, the third sister you had yet to meet. The sister Mor thinks Azriel is enamored with. The walk back was pretty long but enjoyable, conversation with the Shadowsinger seemed to flow naturally and he seemed interested in everything you had to say so when he announced you had arrived you couldn’t help the disappointment that bubbled in your chest. The River House was a spectacular mansion overlooking the Sidra. “Azriel, y/n! Come over here, Elain is just finishing up lunch” Feyre said in place of greeting. You follow Azriel towards glass doors that lead to a beautiful garden terrace, where you are greeted by a delicious looking spread of finger foods. “I tried to make everything baby friendly” a delicate musical voice says to Azriel. You look from the spread towards the voice “you must be Elain, I’m y/n”. She smiles and says “lovely to meet you, please start without me, I’m in the middle of decorating a cake” you note the apron she dons and the frosting that stains her pretty face. I’d be into her if I was Azriel.
Feyre, Nyx, Azriel and yourself enjoy lunch and simple conversation “there’s only a few more weeks of summer so we try to make the most of this weather before the Sidra freezes” you nod, having noticed that the breezes gliding through the air seem to be getting cooler and cooler everyday. The High Lady lets the little boy out of his chair, he doesn’t look older than two. Once he’s free of the confines of his high chair he races to the lawn and begins to play with some toys he probably left there earlier.  “Here we are” Elain returns to the table with an intricately decorated cake, it has all sorts of flowers and leaves made of pastel color frosting and Elain herself looks perfectly put together, she looks for her nephew “Nyxie, do you want a slice?” The table laughs as he ignores her and goes back to playing. “Sorry Elain, you know how he gets after being still for too long” Feyre says. The domestic scene fills your heart with longing for your own family. That could’ve been you. Your blood runs cold as you hear the distinct lilt of your mother’s voice. Not this again. You had had some reprieve of those words ever since getting here. “So Elain, I’ve been told you garden?” You ask to fill the comfortable silence the group had fallen into. Luckily Elain had a lot to say about the upcoming autumn harvest and her plans for the following year. 
After lunch concluded, you and Azriel went back to the House of Wind where you resumed the routine you had grown to appreciate. In the morning you would wake up and actually choose an outfit, which was a nice addition, have breakfast and go to the library. After lunch you’d go back to the library until dinner. After dinner you’d either walk around the house, find a book to read, maybe journal a bit. Other nights were a bit more fun though, someone would take you into town and you’d go dancing or walk along the river or visit art galleries. It was a nice routine. Predictable. Dependable. Enjoyable. 
So Azriel was very surprised when you walked into the dinning room with a huff and a scowl. “What’s the matter?” You look at him like with wild eyes “Azriel I can’t do it anymore” he stiffens and you continue “The priestesses are all very nice and Gwyn is a sweetheart but the only thing I do is look for books for them to read because they are all written in ancient languages I don’t understand. I’m so bored, Azriel, I’m numb with boredom. I’m not a researcher and I can’t even contribute, not really. I don’t wanna go back down there. It’s dark and cold and I need sunshine. Sunshine!” you finish by dropping into your chair and putting your head between your hands. “I see-” you interrupt him “and I’m sorry I sound ungrateful ok? You’ve all been very nice”. He continues “if you need a change of pace you could come with me to the human lands, I’ll be there for a few days on an assignment. I’d appreciate the company” you could kiss him.
 “When do we leave?” 
93 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 5 months
Note
Can you do #9. I don't ever wanna let you do for Beau pretty please
Tumblr media
Companion piece to Duty
Beau can’t stop thinking of the expression on your face the night he told you he was deploying to Germany. He sits at his desk, tapping his pen upon the surface because he knows it’s bad timing, that he should have spoken to you earlier. The problem was he didn’t want to influence your decision when it came to choosing your next posting, but it was already too late. You had chosen San Diego so that the two of you could be together. You were making sacrifices, and he wasn’t.
It's late when he tracks you down, you haven’t been responding to his texts. He understands that you don’t want to talk, you’d made that perfectly clear when you’d left the hotel room instead of staying the night like you usually do.
You’re working late in your office, going through depositions, your JAG blazer hangs on the back of your chair. You barely glance up as you study the page in front of you. Your eyes meet his for the briefest of seconds before you say.
“I’m busy Beau.”
“I can see that.” He says as he closes the door behind him. “But Ally, we need to talk before I deploy tomorrow.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” You tell him, tilting your head up towards him. He isn’t used to this version of you. You’ve completely withdrawn in the wake of his announcement, shut him out completely. It’s a way of protecting yourself, he knows.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t value our relationship.” He says quietly as he stands before your desk. “I just wanted you to make that decision on your own…”
“You don’t need to explain it.” You tell him, focusing on the pen between your fingertips.
There’s silence between you and Beau feels the weight of it bearing down on him.
“I feel like I’m letting you down.” He says softly.
“I’m not mad about you being deployed to Germany.” You tell him, setting the pen down. “It’s the fact you’ve known that I was wrestling with this decision about my next posting, and you didn’t tell me. You must have known for weeks.”
“I didn’t want to influence your choice.” He tells you as he sits down in the visitor’s chair. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this…”
“I’m not either.” You remind him because up until you met Beau your relationships had consisted of one-night stands and casual affairs. “If this is going to work, if we want a future together then we need to learn to communicate better. It’s going to be hard enough with the deployments and the postings…”
You trail off, a sad smile on your features.
“I don’t even know if this is what you want. We’ve never talked about this.”
Beau looks at you, his expression unreadable and your heart sinks because yet again you’ve made a mistake. You’re thinking of the future but this relationship, it only exists in the present. There’s no room in his life for you outside of San Diego, as soon as he leaves for Germany it’ll be like you never existed.
“I want a future with you Ally.” Beau says surprising you. “I want everything with you.”
@kmc1989 @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @handsupforamiracle @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb
79 notes · View notes
scarlettscribbles · 5 months
Text
a little help from your family (1/2)
PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist
Tumblr media
- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, endgame Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow
Summary: 1.4k words - Tigris meets her niece.
a/n: adding a tags-list for all those that want to be updated when i update this drabble series! just comment below or send me an ask
tags-list: @cdragons
Tumblr media
Coryo came back from District 12 triumphant but different. Tigris had expected him to come back with the Victor girl — with his Victor girl — but he only came back with an emptiness in his eyes, molding him into a man that was supposed to be long dead.
It sowed the seeds of fear in her, fear that she tried so hard to smother because that was her boy. That was her Coryo. The little cousin who clung to her so tightly during the nights when hunger pains would send them crying, the boy who’d sought out her comfort time and time again, who’d come to her first with every achievement. She’d once told him that he could be good, something she’d wholeheartedly believed at the time, but now… Now it’s less of a belief and more of a desperate hope.
Their penthouse grew brighter and more opulent. Their fridge was always stocked, sometimes obscenely so. Grandma’am glowed with happiness and Tigris tried her best to mimic the same. Oh for certain there were good times, still. The day Coryo surprised her with a sewing machine and a chest full of rich fabrics and materials, he’d been so giddy and proud, looking to her for approval. Tigris had given it to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. They had passed the time talking— well, it was mostly Tigris talking, ranting about the new designs she was going to be able to try out, flitting about the room and showing Coryo her sketches for him.
The moment had been cut short when an alarm rang, reminding Coryo of a meeting with Dr. Volumnia Gaul.
Moments like that were few and far in between. As Coryo grew more powerful, the distance between grew, the space in his life that provided him guidance occupied by someone else. Someone who had been able to help him more than Tigris could, despite her best efforts. Being displaced was such a sore feeling. Tigris hated Dr. Volumnia Gaul for pouring poison in Coryo’s ears, but she knew that Coryo had made a choice too.
Tigris drowned herself with work, using her creations as some sort of escape. She became proficient and famous enough to no longer work under Fabricia, likely thanks in part of Coryo’s influence who had been insistent that he only wore out clothes of her making. Tigris found a temporary joy in it, that was, until Coryo informed her that he found a spot for her as a designer in the upcoming 11th Hunger Games.
It made her sick. All the new "improvements" to the Games made her sick. The Capitol loved it, of course. As if the glitz and glamor can cover up the mountain of dead bodies and the smell of blood.
Her only consolation had been Mrs. Plinth, who she’d grown close to. She was sympathetic to the tributes, though highly cautious of expressing it. More so since her son had died, Tigris thought.
Her first tribute was a kind girl from District 4 who later went on to win, to Tigris’ guilty relief. On their first meeting, Mags Flanagan asked her about Lucy Gray Baird. Tigris nearly cried at that moment, feeling grateful that someone else besides her still remembered the songs and colors of the girl who changed her life.
Coryo’s constant brushing off of her questions regarding Lucy Gray had made Tigris fretful of the fate of the young woman, thinking that he might have done something to her. There must have been something that happened to turn the smitten boy with lovesick eyes into a hateful, unyielding man whenever Lucy Gray was mentioned.
“It was a lapse of judgment, Tigris. We realized we had diverging paths. I wanted to go back here in the Capitol and she—“ He turned away from her, but not before she got a glimpse of the strange look on his face. “She wanted to sing in the woods forever.”
It was not long after that that Tigris decided to move out of their penthouse and into the apartment above her own shop. She had felt guilty for doing so, leaving her Grandma’am in the primary care of Mrs. Plinth, but she made sure to visit often. Tigris hadn’t been sure if it was a good choice, but now…
“Is that you, Lucy Gray? Lucy Gray Baird?” Tigris asked before realizing the urgency of the situation. She didn’t wait for an answer, already ushering them in.
Lucy Gray smiled tiredly as Tigris led them into the waiting of her store. She immediately sat down, sighing as she shifted the bundle in her arms. Flaxen locks peeked from underneath the coat.
“Are— are you alright?” Lucy Gray looked no less beautiful than she had five years ago, last she’d seen her on the screen. She looked more mature now, though, sad and worried.
“Tigris I apologize for coming so suddenly. I know we don’t really know each other apart from whatever Coriolanus has said but I really, really don’t know where to go to.” she said in a rush, barely breathing between each word. “My daughter, my Annie, she’s sick and the doctor said she needed a heart transplant or else—“ Lucy Gray sobbed, a lone, heartbreaking sound. Tears streamed down her face.
“Lucy Gray breathe,” Tigris coaxed, hurriedly retrieving a piece of cloth from the scraps she had by her sewing machine. “I need you to breathe okay? I’m going to do my best to help you, but first I need you to breathe.”
Lucy Gray accepted the cloth, wiping her tears and composing herself. “I’m sorry again—“
“No need to apologize,” Tigris replied kindly, sitting across her visitors.
“I suppose introductions are in order,” Lucy Gray sniffed, sliding the hood of the coat of the bundle in her arms, kissing the child’s forehead before shifting them slightly so their face could be seen in the dim lighting. “This is my Annabel Rose Baird. She’s asleep now but she would love to meet you again when she’s awake.”
Tigris couldn’t hold back a gasp. “Oh, Coryo. What have you done?” Her mind ran wild with the possible reasons why Lucy Gray raised her daughter alone. "She looks a great deal like you."
"A great deal like him too," Lucy Gray responded. “Me and him, we weren’t planning on having Annie, it just kind of happened.
“See, we were supposed to go north to escape, to run away. He’d killed the mayor’s daughter, Mayfair, and another fella shot her boyfriend, Billy Taupe. The Peacekeepers were wantin’ to hunt down the culprits and the guns used. I was a major suspect since Mayfair hated me and Billy Taupe was my ex. I said I needed to go, he said he’d come with.
“While we were on the way, he told me he killed three people but I’d only known two of them. And he wouldn’t tell me the truth. I— I think it might have been Sejanus. Plinth. The other boy who’d been in the Peacekeepers with him? They played a recording when he was executed and he kept calling out for Coriolanus and his Ma when they hung him.” Lucy Gray shivered. “The mockingjays kept echoing his cries. It’s still in my nightmares even now.”
A small part of Tigris had suspected it, but to hear Lucy Gray’s confirmation was chilling. She felt so undeserving of the generosity of the Plinth’s.
“I wanted to tell him about Annie, I really did. For a moment, I entertained this fantasy of having a complete family, of my daughter never wanting for a missing presence in her life but, well, at that point I didn’t trust Coriolanus with anything. So I ran. Next I’d heard was him shoutin’ in the forest about me tryin’ to kill him. He started firing when he heard the mockingjays repeat my song.”
Tigris felt a bit sick at the onslaught of information. There was the difference between speculation and fact. “I’m sorry, Lucy Gray. I’m sorry that you had to do this alone.”
Lucy Gray looked at her daughter — Tigris’ niece, dear god — with so much love that it made her heart hurt. “It was fine. I wouldn’t have traded her for anything,” she said. “This isn’t the farthest I would go just to see her be alright.”
A tear slipped down Tigris’ cheek. “Tell me, Lucy Gray,” she said with as much sincerity as she could. “What do we have to do?”
Tumblr media
69 notes · View notes
whalyrae · 1 year
Text
DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 3
Tumblr media
“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”
Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)
Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships
Status : In process
Word Count : 2.6k
Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,...
A/N : Here's the chapter 3 ! Hope you'll like it !! Thank you so much for all your love and votes and shares and comments too !! You can't imagine how much it's important for writers !! ♥ Feel free to send your reactions, questions etc in my inbox or directly in private !! And thank again for the cute anon for their sweet message yesterday, if you read this, I'll never thank you enough for your words ;w; ♥ ♥
Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad
Chapter 2 // chapter 4
☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
"I've worn enough suppressor patches to know how to identify them... and to my knowledge betas don't wear them..."
You froze and took a step back, staring at him. No, it was impossible, he was probably playing with you, he was teasing you, he couldn't know who you were already... You had been so careful…
“Don't worry, I won't say anything if that's what scares you, you must have your reasons !” Wooyoung offered you a sweet smile to reassure you, “just try not to abuse it, that's my only advice!”
“I... “ you hesitated for a few seconds, biting your lip nervously, “It's complicated.”
You sighed and shook your head. You couldn't believe that your secret had been discovered not even a day after you did so much to hide it. If Wooyoung found out so easily, that would mean that anyone could…
Questions raced through your head. Your heart rate increased, as did your breathing, and you began to panic. What if this stranger had guessed at a glance? It would take Jimin less time to realize the trickery... No, it couldn't be possible, you didn't want to lose him, you didn't want to lose them.
"Y/n ? Hey, calm down, it's okay..." Wooyoung gently waved his hand in front of you, "Look, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other and working together for a while so... I'm not forcing anything on you, but I'm here if you need to talk, okay ? And as for the complicated part, don't worry, I know a bit about complicated stuff."
"What do you mean ? More complicated than my situation... I must be honest... it seems impossible."
"Listen, what I suggest is that we’ll sit and have a drink and I'll explain a little. Then, if you want to talk about your issue, that's up to you !"
You hesitated few seconds, but finally agreed, on the condition that you would offer the drink to Wooyoung, who had no choice but to accept in turn.
You both entered the café. While Wooyoung went to find seats for you, you went to the counter to order. While waiting for the two coffees, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You took it out of your pocket and unlocked it. A message from Taehyung.
TH : Look at the composition I had to do today ! It made me think of you !
Tumblr media
The attached photo was a beautiful bouquet with lavenders. Along with the poppy, lavender was one of your favorite flowers.
You could only smile at the message. Taehyung always sent pictures of the bouquets he created when they contained flowers that reminded him of you or one of the boys. It was always something that made you smile and warmed your soul.
Taehyung was incredibly good at what he produced as a florist. He was able to create beautiful pieces from nothing, or from a simple little element. He always asked for as much information as possible about the recipient of the order, so that he could compose the most personal bouquet possible. Everything he created was full of poetry. The art and language of flowers took on a whole new meaning with him. It was as if the profession of florist had been invented for him.
You flinched when the waiter called you to say that your coffees were ready. You awkwardly put your phone in your pocket to take your orders and thanked him. You joined Wooyoung, who was laughing because he had been following the whole scene.
“What was it that captured your attention so much ?”
“My florist friend sent me one of those arrangements. He knows I like lavender so…”
You took out your mobile phone to show him the picture. Wooyoung whistled, impressed. You let out a small laugh and gave him his iced coffee before taking a sip of yours.
“I was thinking,” you began, looking up at him, “we haven't even talked about dancing yet... what style are you more into ? Do you have any ideas of what you'd like to do ?”
“I started with ballet, but I really prefer anything hip-hop! As for ideas... I don't really have any I must admit, do you ?”
“ Same here…” you made a little pout while sipping your drink before straightening up suddenly, “since we're a duo, and a mixed one as well, could we base ourselves on that ? You know, like Zendaya and Zac Efron in The Greatest Showman ! Ah ! That movie was so good…”
“ I loved that movie ! I know all the choreography by heart !”
This was followed by a long conversation, mostly punctuated by ‘Are you kidding? I love it too!’ from both of you. You had quickly discovered that you had a lot in common and that your tastes in music, dance and even films were very similar.
Wooyoung had quickly put you at ease, and you realized that he was someone with whom it was easy to communicate and express yourself without fear of being judged.
Finally, after a short silence where you both took a sip of your drinks, you thought about his words earlier. A question was burning your mind, and as you hesitated, he encouraged you to take the plunge by offering you a small smile of encouragement.
You took a more serious tone, without daring to look at him.
“If you hadn't seen the patches…”
“Could I have guessed that you were an omega ? It's true that without them, I could have believed you if you had told me you weren't one, but when I saw you with them, it's hard to think otherwise.”
Wooyoung was of course talking about Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook.
“I've had... some problems with second year alpha's earlier this year, they're just... wary and protective I guess.”
“That's not what I was getting at…” he paused for a moment to take another sip of his coffee, “you know, when I was telling you about the complicated part of my life, it's not really complicated in reality I tend to exaggerate a bit…”
He shrugged and let out a small laugh.
“I'm part of a pack, there are three omegas and four alphas, one of them is even in our school, in third year !” His eyes lit up at the mention of his boyfriend, “Oh but I will introduce you to him ! My Sannie is incredibly talented, he might even give you some really good advice !”
This was not what you expected at all. Packs were not a rare thing, but they were not particularly common either. Wooyoung was the first omega in such a large pack that you had met. In fact, he was the first omega you actually took the time to talk to. Not that you avoided them, on the contrary. You were just used to being in an environment where the different classes didn't mix. You still remembered very well the near scandal in your high school when you started to appear in public with Jimin.
“It's awesome to be in a pack, especially with them. They're all amazing, adorable, caring and sweet.” the dancer had a big smile that he shared with you, “But the point is that your friends act the same way as my alphas. I felt their protective auras directly, it's not really the kind of thing you give off with someone you consider just a friend... I'd say it was even stronger in the one next to you hm... Jimin I think? Yes, Jimin.”
“He's the one I've known for the longest time but... They don't know,” you finally admitted, “that I'm an omega. In fact, I didn't even know myself... until a week ago.”
Seeing Wooyoung's confused look, you resumed the situation. What happened last week, your first heat, and your mother's reaction. To your surprise, he wasn't that shocked.
"It's more common than you think, especially in families where you're pressured from birth about what you're supposed to be... how you're supposed to act, about your future, that sort of thing.
"Tell me about it…”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair.
“This beta, alpha and omega stuff doesn't change who you are and why people like you,” Wooyoung continued, “I think people who pay attention to these kinds of details are idiots. 'No, I don't want you because you're a beta' or 'you're just an omega, you can't do this, or that', that's really lame.”
You totally agreed with him. What worried you most was how your friends would react. How Jimin would react. It was bad enough that you sometimes felt like you were too much, or that you were 'crashing' with your best friend's pack of alphas, but if they found out that you weren't who you said you were, what would be the repercussions?
The subject had never come up because you were supposed to be a beta and besides that, you had always been clear that you put dancing before everything else. You always told anyone that you weren't interested in relationships. You'd had a couple of hook-ups, with one or two people, but never anything serious. 
Or maybe you'd always had a crush on Jimin, then on the other boys too, and you'd repressed all your feelings because of what you thought you were, a beta, and therefore felt incompatible? And because your friendship with Jimin was so important to you that you didn't want to risk losing him and being alone.
Your fear of abandonment and loneliness had always been a source of stress and anxiety for you. You were ready to do anything, absolutely anything, to not lose Jimin.
“Ah, it's too complicated,’ you finally say, taking your face in your hands, ‘the best thing to do would be to drop everything and go live in Australia.”
"It's always confusing when you lie to yourself... and to others... Hey, can I give you my opinion?"
"Oh... um..." surprised he asked, you straightened up before answering, "yes, of course!"
Pleased with your answer, Wooyoung had straightened up. He took a few seconds before he began to speak. He was looking for the right words, the appropriate formulation.
“So, first of all, Australia is a very good idea! But watch out for the animals, they're pretty well known for being very big and very dangerous.” He winked at her, causing her to giggle, before regaining his seriousness, “Then, when I'm faced with a tricky situation, I try to make some sort of ranking of what's most important. In your case, it's to 'learn' to be an omega and above all, to accept that you are one, because whether you like it or not, it's what you are, it's anchored in your DNA, you can't change it. You will have your heat, your body, your smell and your hormones will be agitated when you are in contact with the people you are physically attracted to. The story is similar in beta actually, it's just... less powerful and less noticeable.”
"Wow you... you seem to know a lot..."
"One of my alphas, Seonghwa, is studying psychology, it's really exciting to listen to him talk! He could help you, if you accept of course! He would explain you much better than me, and in more detail. I'll give you his number along with mine! "
You nodded. Wooyoung was right, like it or not, you were an omega. Even if you hid it from your friends and roommates, you couldn't deny it and suppress it, unfortunately.
"He also taught me that repressing our desires can become painful, especially for us omegas, though I can understand how it might be scary for you who never felt that way before. The change between beta and omega must have been violent for you..." he murmured with compassion.
“What scares me the most are their reactions. Jimin has been my best friend since high school. He's all I have in this world. He's... the most important person in my life. I may not have known the others for that long but... I like them like... a lot. They've never rejected me for being different, unlike... absolutely everyone else before them, in fact. Including family.”
You breathed in and out deeply, pursing your lips for a few seconds. Wooyoung remained silent, letting you take the time to express yourself, and you were very grateful.
“And what if they only accept me because I'm a beta?”’ you resumed, looking up at him, “And what if what I feel for them... this attraction that's been growing since those damn omega pheromones showed up, is only a matter of biology and I'm only attracted to them because of those hormones? What if…”
Wooyoung cut you off by gently taking your hand, as he sensed that you were starting to panic. The last question he heard made him smile inside. He was ready to bet that you didn't even realize what you had just said. You didn't know yet that the hormone thing didn't work that way, but he was saving that information for another time. He was even thinking more and more about asking Seonghwa for some help with this more delicate and technical part. He felt you were completely lost, and even though the best people to help you would be Jimin and his six other alphas who seemed to have taken your heart, this idea was anything but possible for you.
“I can't pronounce because I don't know them, but from what I saw earlier, the way they reacted instantly when they saw me…”
“I'm sorry again, all seven of them are like that with me. It's their alpha nature I guess…”
“That's where you're wrong. Sure, an alpha acts that way, but not with just anyone. When we left... it was the same thing, that protective... and dare I say possessive aura. You may not have felt it because you're probably used to it since you live with them but…”
He paused for a moment and gently squeezed your hand, tilting his head to one side with a small smile.
“My alphas act exactly the same way with us, I told you. I'd even be willing to bet that they don't realize it themselves because as you so rightly say, it's natural and has always been that way for as long as you've known them... I know what I'm talking about and if you want to be sure, I might have an idea…” 
You frowned, you didn't understand a thing, even though in the end, and this is what amused Wooyoung, it was quite simple.
“Trust me! Well, I know that saying it like that when you've only known me for a few hours is a big thing, but…”
“No ! I... look, all I want is for things to stay the same, between me and them, I'll do anything for that.”
“To the point of using suppressants excessively? You're on medication too, am I right?”
He let out a small sigh, and finally stood up, holding out his hand to you.
“Y/n, ah, can I call you Noona? No, don't answer, I'll call you Noona! Well Noona, I think our meeting wasn't just for the dance,” he said in an almost theatrical tone, “it was Fate that put you in my path, there's no doubt about it!”
Slightly confused, you regained your senses and laughed, grabbing his hand as he led you outside.
“First of all, we're going to be the best pairing this school has ever seen,” you said, a hint of defiance in your voice, “I'd like to show the three idiots who are my friends what we can do! And by the way, we'll take the opportunity to nail all those pretentious alphas who like to spend their lives looking down on us!”
“Competitive? I love it! Then I'll personally take care of teaching you to be an omega, to accept who you are. We'll go little by little, but not too much because…” he paused, and the words that followed made your blood run cold, "your next heat will come faster than you think.”
187 notes · View notes
flaming-brown-witch · 2 months
Note
what is your favorite romione fics and what are the ones you’ve written you like the most 👀👀👀👀👀 finding fics on archive have been impossible and a girl is desperate 🌞
Oooh chileeee *rolls up sleeves*
Okay, so I'm listing my all-time favorites below (mostly on FFN since it's been YEARS since I've been plugged into this fandom).
As for my stuff *buries head* this ridiculous ass fic that I wrote when I was FOURTEEN is my main claim to fame (it's trash but also still kinda slaps?). BUT I'VE BEEN WORKING ON A TON OF NEW STUFF. I have six fics coming out this month through the @romione-trope-fest (btw the best active Romione writers are participating in that fest, so you should definitely follow it if you haven't been already! Here's the AO3 collection for the fest.).
ALSO I saw that you are a Renaissance fan. I have one that's 50% done called "Virgo's Groove" and it takes place in the seventh book when Lupin announces Teddy's birth. I can share a snippet tomorrow if you'd like 🙂
Okay enough self promo lol. On to my recs!
Seven Simple Years by HalfASlug (FFN): Best Romione missing moments series ever. I think HalfASlug has the best Ron voice. Everything she's ever written for Romione is worth reading.
Moments by Armaysha (FFN): Another missing moments (I'm a sucker for those) that I feel kind of mixed about, even though it's still one of my favs. The writer has a different take on Romione than most of the fandom. It generally works IMO, but some of the choices she made I really didn't understand. But what she did well, she did really, really well.
I Must Not Tell Lies by TMBlue (FFN): I think this is the best one-shot of Romione's first fuck. TMBlue is GREAT at writing Ron and she's like the queen of Romione smut.
Six Foot of Ginger Idiot by Pinky Brown (FFN): This classic is HBP from Ron's perspective. Pinky Brown is another iconic Ron writer. You can't go wrong with anything she's written, but Biscuits (her missing moments series starting in Book 1) starts dragging in the last few chapters IMO.
Australia by MsBinns (FFN): Post-war series, arguably the greatest Romione fic of all time. To be totally honest, I didn't finish it because it does kind of drag. But I'm always meaning to get back into it. Just know that it's heavy.
Love Me Forever by Aloemilk (AO3/FFN): I JUST read this and I can't stop thinking about it. It's a post-war series that has a great mix of angst, trauma, and fluff (lighter than Australia). The slow burn from Romione's first kiss to a full-fledged adult relationship is perfect and the smut is SO GOOD. Reminds me of the time I stumbled upon porn that made me ugly cry (in a good way?)
Not single fics but thesecondself and realmer06 (both on FFN, although realmer06's next gen stuff is also on AO3) are my favorite one-shot writers.
35 notes · View notes
mirasmirages · 1 month
Text
Market
Based on this prompt by @secretwhumplair
Taran had never liked the slave market. With all the human misery on display, it was impossible to convince himself the regime he worked for was the good guys. It was a reminder of where he would be if he hadn’t made the choices he had. Of where he could still end up, if someone discovered who he was.
He made himself go at least once a month.
In the decade since. Taran had never found anyone from his village. They were dead. Burned alive, if they weren’t lucky enough to be killed before then. A quick slash with a sword would have been a mercy.
The ghosts of his friends and family looked at him through the eyes of strangers. Old men with hardened faces. Children who weren’t even born when his village burned.
A woman sat hunched on the floor, nothing but her dark hair to hide naked skin. She looked darker than him, but he wondered how different they would look if she had a bath. She could have been one of the village girls. She could have been—
Taran swallowed. He was used to lock away the longing, the desperate hope that sometimes threatened to overtake him. This was just some girl. She had to be.
“How’re the sales going?” he grinned at the merchant. They had spoken a few times before. Not quite friends, but friendly.
“Slow day,” the merchant replied. “No sales so far.”
Taran nodded, made a show of looking at the five people lined up. “What are you hoping to get for them?” He grabbed the girl’s arm and lifted, just to be sure - and froze. There, on the side of her rib cage, was a birthmark he would never forget. He had wanted to make sure she was a stranger, but she was not.
“For that one? Fifteen hundred.”
Fifteen hundred. That was enough to bring Taran back to reality. Fifteen hundred was more than Taran made in three months.
"Fifteen hundred for this?" he heard himself say.
Please don't let the merchant notice anything off about his behavior. Please.
"No wonder you're not getting any sales."
"Hey! She's not that bad!"
Taran grabbed the girl - his Nida - his baby sister - and made her stand.
"She's skin and bone," he said, pointing to the waves of her ribs. "With those bruises, she must be useless or disobedient. Who wants to buy a freshly punished slave? And does she even have teeth?" He forced open her mouth to reveal that most of the teeth she still had were broken and rotting.
"Some people would find the lack of teeth to be a good thing," the merchant tried to joke, but it didn't land. "It doesn't matter what you think. You never buy."
"Not at your prices," Taran shrugged, releasing the girl. "I got a week off, so I thought I would have some fun, but fifteen hundred? I can think of better ways to spend a month's wages."
"If you don't need one that'll last, the weakly kids go for cheap at the auction."
Taran gritted his teeth. The auction had been too much for him to stomach, the one time he went.
"Do I look like I'm interested in children?" he spat. "You offend me. Besides, this one looks like she won't last the week. No one will pay that much for her, so why not let me take her off your hands for fifty?"
"Fifty?" the merchant sputtered. "She is worth at least a thousand!"
"A thousand? A good salesman would be able to sell her for a hundred. A smart salesman would take what he can get and save the money of feeding her."
"I paid almost five hundred for her. I won't sell her at a loss."
Taran tutted. "That was a very good salesman. Or she was in better shape before entering your care."
"Four fifty. You can have her for that. That way I won't lose too much on this."
Four fifty was a lot, but it was manageable. He should take the deal.
"Three hundred. That's as high as I'll go."
"Three fifty."
"Three twenty."
"Three thirty."
"Deal."
42 notes · View notes
jedi-enthusiast · 11 months
Text
Ok, here's the post I promised detailing why I take issue with Ahsoka's decision to send Kanan to find Rex in Rebels.
Disclaimer: This is not me "hating" on Ahsoka, this is just me being critical of a couple of her decisions.
To start off: Ahsoka knows that Kanan is a Republic Era Jedi, and common sense tells us that if someone was a Jedi during that time, they were almost 100% certain to have faced the clones during Order 66. Ahsoka may make stupid decisions sometimes, but she is not stupid. It was not lost on her that Kanan, only old enough to have been a padawan at the time (if she didn't recognize him from around the Temple), probably saw his master get brutally murdered.
Now, she might not know the details like we do, but it's made very clear that Kanan has definitely not healed from Order 66. Grand Inquisitor literally spells it out for us by taunting Kanan about his master's death and talking about Kanan having nightmares because of it, with Kanan being near tears and clearly blaming himself when he says that her last words to him were "run."
It is still very much an open wound for him and Ahsoka knows this, even if she isn't clear on the details.
"How does Ahsoka know this?" You might ask.
"You must trust him." - Ahsoka repeats this phrase over and over to Kanan in the beginning of the episode. She offers no other explanation or information except "hey this droid can track my friend" and "trust my friend." Nothing else.
Why would she say that, unless she knew that Kanan was going to react badly?
Now, even if Kanan was absolutely the only person possible who could've done this mission (which he wasn't), my main issue is that Ahsoka didn't give Kanan the informed choice of whether he wanted to go on the mission or not. She withheld information from Kanan so that he would go on the mission without a fuss, knowing that he would probably change his mind if he knew that her "friends" were clones.
"How would she know that?" - You don't withhold information like that for no good reason. If she didn't think Kanan would put up a fuss, or if she actually cared about giving him a choice on whether or not to face the men that helped murder his family, then she would have given him the full story and not just some vague message of "trust him."
("But Jedi-Enthusiast, the clones didn't want to kill the Jedi, they were forced to!" - Yes, we--as the audience--know that and so does Ahsoka, but Kanan clearly doesn't. It's shown in the episode that he obviously thinks the inhibitor chips were an excuse, but not the actual reason.)
Ahsoka's decision to withhold this information is not just shitty, but it's also really stupid.
What if Kanan's PTSD manifested like Wolffe's did?
Wolffe's first instinct upon seeing a Jedi was to kill first, ask questions later, until Rex managed to ground him.
What if Kanan's first instinct upon seeing clones was the same? Or, better yet, what if he wanted revenge for his master's death and decided to just kill them anyway?
She was lucky that Kanan's first response to seeing clones was shock, fear, anger, defensive position and not shock, fear, anger, violent response to seeing his family's murderers.
Overall, I just think she should've given him all of the information and allowed him to make an informed choice about whether or not to go instead of just letting him blindly walk into a situation that would remind him of his trauma.
133 notes · View notes
beechersnope · 9 months
Text
Ego Death
Tumblr media
Logan/Lando (Endgame Logan/Oscar), 2449 words
Warnings/Tags: fem lando, fem oscar, pegging, light angst
***
Logan picks Lando up at a club. When she directs him back to the sorority house where Oscar lives, he nearly dumps her on the curb and leaves her there.
“My ex—” Logan starts to tell her, but he stops when he sees her eyebrows raise, her hand on the door handle, one foot in the gutter. “You’re gonna have to sneak me in somehow,” he finishes lamely. It’s been long enough since he and Oscar split—he never calls them break-ups, because that’s not what they are, not really—that his hand just isn’t cutting it anymore.
Lando agrees to sneak him in. She texts Logan after a good ten minutes, during which he’s done nothing but sit behind the wheel of his truck and question all his life choices, and she tells him to go through the side gate and meet her at the back door.
It’s pitch black in the backyard, which makes Logan feel like he’s going to trip over something in the dark and get himself mistaken for a home intruder and then shot by someone in one of the neighboring houses, but somehow, he manages to make it all the way around to the sliding glass door under the patio unscathed. It helps that he knows his way around already, he thinks to himself as he sidesteps a sun-lounger he must have fucked Oscar on at least half a dozen times.
Lando is waiting for him just inside the kitchen. She grabs his arm as he steps inside, putting a finger over her lips—as if he needs any reminder to keep quiet.
From the sounds Logan can hear coming from the living room, some of the girls are watching a horror movie. A loud noise makes both he and Lando jump as they head up the stairs together; Lando has to stifle a laugh as she turns to take in Logan’s wide-eyed features.
Logan holds his breath as they pass by Oscar’s room in the upstairs hallway.
Lando’s room is at the other end, far enough away that Logan isn’t worried about being overheard. By Oscar, at least. He doesn’t care as much about the other girls in the adjacent rooms on either side of Lando’s.
As soon as Lando opens the door for Logan, he barrels inside, throwing himself onto her bed with a sigh of relief.
Lando doesn’t look impressed by Logan’s enthusiasm. She hasn’t seemed that impressed by anything he’d tried on her all night, from buying her a drink to practically dry humping her on the dancefloor. He’d admittedly been a little surprised when she suggested that he take her back to her place, but he wasn’t about to say no after spending the better part of half an hour desperately grinding his half-hard dick against her ass.
“So,” Lando says, nonchalantly leaning against her dresser, hip popped in a way that draws Logan’s eyes from her cleavage to the scandalously short hem of her dress.
Logan stares back with a questioning expression. “I figured we weren’t going to talk about it,” he tells her, assuming that the reason she hasn’t made a move yet is because she wants to discuss the inherent messiness of fucking her sorority sister’s ex. Or whatever Logan is right now.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Lando replies dismissively. “I was just wondering—have you ever tried anal before?”
Logan stares at her and blinks a few times. “Yeah?” he finally replies. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you in the ass?” It’s not exactly the sort of thing he was banking on when he went looking for a random hookup, but Logan supposes there’s no reason to look a gift horse in the—well, ass.
“Not exactly,” Lando says with a shrug, but she doesn’t elaborate further. “Take your clothes off.”
Logan scrambles to comply. He likes when girls take charge in bed, when they boss him around, tell him what to do, how to make them feel good. Oscar likes—liked it when he let her use him to get off, let her set the rhythm, let her call the shots.
Lando reminds him of Oscar in a lot of ways, that same intense energy hiding under a thin veneer. In Oscar’s case it was deadpan nonchalance; with Lando, a playful detachment that had given way to domineering neediness as soon as Logan had gotten a hand under her dress in the cab of his truck.
Logan is almost fully hard by the time he shimmies out of his jeans and tosses his sweat-damp t-shirt by the wayside. He reaches down to cradle his balls as Lando walks over to the bed, but she slaps his hand away before he can get the relief he’s craving. So it’s like that, then.
But even after Lando peels off her dress and her panties, she pays Logan little mind. She makes a show of it to start, reaching up to play with her nipples while Logan stares up at her open-mouthed and slack-jawed, barely containing the saliva pooling under his tongue as he drinks in the full extent of her taut body, lean and wiry where Oscar is softer, broader.
When Lando turns around again and goes back to her dresser, Logan doesn’t think much of it. They need a condom, even for anal, and lube, obviously, but when Lando comes back and drops down onto the bed next to him, she only has one of those items clutched in her hand.
In the other is a garishly purple dildo attached to a leather harness. And even Logan isn’t so stupid that he can’t put two and two together.
“I’ve never…” Logan says, panicking a little. Shouldn’t Lando have told him she was into that sort of thing right from the start?
“Do you want to?” Lando asks, simple as that.
Her expression remains cool, composed, but behind it, Logan can just detect a glimmer of something else, something feral and hungry. Something that sparks a flicker of heat in the pit of his belly as he stares at the strap-on in her lap.
It’s long enough, thick enough, that Logan can almost imagine what it would feel like inside him, and a part of him wonders what it would be like. He nods before he has time to second-guess it, and his stomach drops as a smirk cuts a curve across Lando’s face. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, more like the weightless feeling after a big drop on a rollercoaster. Logan is so hard now that it fucking aches.
Logan’s delirious with need by the time he’s on his stomach, legs spread, Lando three fingers deep inside him.
“Is that enough?” she asks, twisting her hand in a way that sends electric shocks shooting up Logan’s spine.
“Yeah,” he replies, slurring the words against Lando’s pillow. The fabric is damp from his wet-hot breath, and it brushes against his lips unpleasantly. He’s already too fucked out to care.
Logan thinks he should probably be embarrassed by how much he wants this, but it doesn’t matter if he wants it or not. Lando wants it, her pussy probably wet and throbbing just from fucking her fingers into him. It makes his dick even harder. He’d probably hump the mattress and come into her sheets if he could, but the feeling of Lando stretching him open is so all-encompassing that he can’t partition the part of his brain necessary to complete any kind of complex voluntary motor control.
Finally, Lando withdraws her fingers. Logan feels achingly empty for a moment, and then he feels the smooth tapered end of Lando’s strap butting up against where he’s soft and open. He breathes out slowly, closing his eyes, and waits.
But Lando doesn’t move.
“You have to tell me what you want,” she says after several seconds tick by. The tip of her strap edges inside of him by millimeters, not enough to do anything more than tease.
“I want what you want,” Logan says dumbly.
“You don’t know what I want,” Lando replies. There’s a hardness in her voice that wasn’t there before, and it makes the hair at the nape of Logan’s neck prickle.
“I…I don’t….”
If it was Oscar, Logan thinks, she would have fucked him until she got too horny to keep going. She’d get him so close that it wouldn’t take much more than her pussy sinking down on his cock for him to come inside her, and even after that, she wouldn’t stop. She’d keep riding him, wouldn’t let him get soft until she’d come, too. And then she’d fall asleep on his chest while Logan’s cock and ass throbbed like the aftermath of a bone-deep bruise, and he’d fucking thank her for it. He’d love her for it.
He wanted that, still. But maybe now he wanted something else, too.
“Can you…slow?” Logan asks, fighting desperately to get the words out. In his head, he’d envisioned Lando pounding into him hard and fast, rough enough that she could feel it, too.
The slow, slick slide of Lando sinking her strap into him until she bottoms out has Logan shuddering, his cock pouring precome onto Lando’s shiny satin sheets. It almost feels like she’s too deep, like she’s breaching some part of him that wasn’t meant for this—and the thought almost makes him laugh when Logan realizes there is no part of him that was meant for this.
Maybe that’s why it feels so alien to want it. Not wrong, per se, but strange, unfamiliar, like trying to describe a place he’s never been.
“Harder,” Logan decides after Lando withdraws, pulling almost all the way out before pausing to let him direct her. “I want it deeper. I want to feel it all the way inside.”
“Yeah?” Lando asks a bit breathlessly. She plunges into Logan again so hard that the harness feels like a leather paddle against his ass. She doesn’t rabbit in and out of him, instead spreading Logan’s legs even further apart with her thighs and grinding in deep.
She laughs a little when Logan lets out a groan that feels like it gets pulled out of him by force. He doesn’t know if he can come like this, even if he tried to rut against Lando’s bed, but the feeling of Lando’s cock spearing him open is so mind-numbingly good that he isn’t sure he cares. He thinks he could happily spend the rest of his life just like this, teetering somewhere on the edge of blacking out and coming so hard his balls explode, his body nothing more than a vehicle for the kind of pleasure he’s only ever been able to access when he and Oscar smoke enough weed that they lose a whole weekend doing nothing but fucking.
It doesn’t even feel fair to compare what he’s done with Oscar to this, because it’s not Oscar’s fault that Logan’s spent the entirety of their relationship convinced that doing whatever she wants is good enough for both of them. Maybe she doesn’t really know what she wants either. Maybe Lando should visit her next and obliterate her pussy with some other toy that Logan’s not even capable of conceiving of, and then when they both come down from their respective sex highs they can kiss and make up and fuck each other silly using their newly attained orgasm enlightenment.
“You should stop thinking so much,” Lando tells Logan as she pushes in deep again, going slow enough that he can’t help but feel every inch of it.
“I want—” Logan starts to say, but then stops. His face feels hot. He has to shove it all down. “Can you talk to me,” he asks in a stuttering voice. “I want you to talk to me,” he tries again, “while you fuck me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
Logan has to think about it. He isn’t pretending Lando’s a guy; it’s not like that. He likes knowing that a girl is doing this to him, making him feel this good. He wants the reminder. “Can you tell me what it feels like?” he asks. “For you?”
“When I fuck you?” Lando breathes, hot against the back of his neck as she grinds into him.
Logan nods against the pillow and jerks his hips back against her reflexively.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” Lando tells him. “Your ass is like, so stretched out, it’s gonna gape when I pull out. It’s making me so fucking wet.” She pauses then, sucking in a deep breath as she pulls out and then exhaling when she shoves back in. “I knew the second I saw you at the club that you’d let me do this to you.”
“How?” Logan asks in a garbled voice.
Lando doesn’t answer. “Fuck, can feel it grinding against my clit every time I fuck you,” she says instead. “I bet I could come like this.”
“Want you to,” Logan replies automatically.
“No.”
Lando keeps the same pace, the same slow steady rhythm that keeps Logan’s cock leaking like a faucet onto her sheets.
“Do you want to come?” she asks. There’s no assumption that Logan will, just the same question she’s been asking all night: does he want to?
Logan surprises himself when he shakes his head. He wants—he wants to get up. He wants to go to Oscar’s room. He wants to apologize for the shit he said.
He comes, then, without realizing. It isn’t until his body contorts in on itself, cock flexing against the hard clench of his abdomen that he even registers what’s happening, his ass spasming around the hard intrusion of Lando’s strap so deep inside him it feels like he could reach down his throat and meet it in the middle.
She doesn’t pull out until he asks. It takes Logan a long time to come down.
Logan expects to return the favor somehow, but after Lando wipes him (and her bed) down as much as she can, she tucks him in with a fresh blanket and leaves him there, turning off the lights on her way out of the room. She doesn’t come back at all that night and Logan sleeps better than he has in weeks.
When Logan wakes up the next morning to Oscar’s face staring at him from the other pillow in Lando’s bed, at first, he thinks he’s dreaming. It’s the cored-out ache inside him, still lingering from the night before, that tells him he’s not.
Good, he thinks as he rolls over to pull Oscar close. This is what he wants.
81 notes · View notes
calliesmemes · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS, ACT II
ASSORTED QUOTES FOUND IN FILMS, TELEVISIONS, MUSIC, AND LITERATURE.
Tumblr media
CHANGE gendered words as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
Tumblr media
“   A great force is asleep in you. ”
“   All I ever think about is you. ”
“   All I ever wanted was to know what to do. ”
“   Am I a good man? ”
“   Are you going to kill me? ”
“   Becoming the villain isn’t the answer. ”
“   Can you prove it to me? ”
“   Did you really think that I would ever let you go? ”
“   Do you regret taking the vow? ”
“   It was like a switch was flipped. ”
“   Fear cuts deeper than swords ”
“   Forgiveness is different from absolution. ”
“   Have I explained away any part of my guilt? ”
“   Help me. Remind me why I am here. ”
“   How many have died because of my actions? ”
“   How often will you repent? ”
“   How strange this is! What is the meaning of it? ”
“   I appreciate your concern. ”
“   I am beyond repentance. ”
“   I am destroying myself so other people can’t. ”
“   I am doing no injury to anybody but myself. ”
“   I am nothing if not merciful. ”
“   I am so glad to see you! ”
“   I believe you are perfectly right. ”
“   I can’t help but give in. ”
“   I cannot agree with you there. ”
“   I doubt I will be pleasant company. ”
“   I doubt everything, even my doubt. ”
“   I feel as though I have been living a long, long time. ”
“   I fought so hard to free you… ”
“   I have betrayed everyone and everything I know. ”
“   I have survived, but I have not been spared. ”
“   I have this grief and I don’t know why. ”
“   I will do whatever you ask. ”
“   I will not be a caged bird. I will fly free. ”
“   I played my part in the plan. ”
“   I pledge myself to your teachings. ”
“   I’m like a collection of paradoxes. ”
“   I’m sorry you were not truly loved and that it made you cruel. ”
“   I’m not too gone to be healed, am I? ”
“   I'm not everything I want to be, but I'm more than I was, and I'm still learning. ”
“   I’m restless and harsh and hopeless. ”
“   I’ll do all that I can to make things right. ”
“   If I cannot be loved, I must be feared. ”
“   Is everyone in danger as long as I’m alive? ”
“   Is this fair? Is this just? ”
“   Is this what you wanted? ”
“   It ends as it began. ”
“   It would be impossible, I know. ”
“   It’s not my fault — I’m not to blame! ”
“   It’s been a long time since I’ve been me. ”
“   I’ve started this storm; gotta stop it somehow ”
“   Money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. ”
“   My intentions were not always wrong. ”
“   None of this is your fault. It’s me and my head. ”
“   No harm will come to you! ”
“   Life is full of tough choices. ”
“   Please remove your blade from my throat. ”
“   Pity comes too late! ”
“   Save me from these evil deeds. ”
“   Sorry is not enough. Sometimes you actually have to change. ”
“   That behavior is quite inexcusable. ”
“   The end justifies the means. ”
“   The path of hate is a dangerous track. ”
“   This can only end one way. ”
“   This is why you never should’ve left. ”
“   There’s a revolution coming. ”
“   There’s trouble for all when there’s trouble for one. ”
“   They are not to be trusted. ”
“   What do you mean? ”
“   What is this fighting all about? ”
“   Where were you when I was still kind? ”
“   Why are they all trying to make me into a saint? ”
“   Why can’t you see me? ”
“   Would you like to punish those who wronged you? ”
“   You can’t trust a single thing I say. ”
“   You can’t run from this! ”
“   You changed me. You should remember me. ”
“   You did not mean to be cruel. That does not mean that you were kind. ”
“   You don’t have to make a sound. ”
“   You have been loyal to a greater cause. ”
“   You know what’s best for me. ”
“   You were born for this. ”
“   You’ll always be a slave. ”
“   Your offer is meaningless. ”
“   You’re the one that I need. ”
“   You’re not as brave as you may seem. ”
“   You’ve gone too far! ”
Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
thefirstknife · 11 months
Text
Now that we have three of Ahsa's memories delivered to us through Sloane, it's time to put them together and think about what we're being told!
I don't know!
Here's the three we have now:
An oasis in the desert. Seeds of hope... buried beneath the sands... Nomads... wanderers... travelers. Their journey comes to an end... The first to be claimed by the Deep... the first to fall victims to the Witness...
A city of Light... a... a flourishing garden... A silent god... withholds a deeper truth. Questions unanswered, uh... longing... unfulfilled. The sky... darkens... as a new journey begins.
Shrouded in... Darkness. A promise of something more... Two halves of a whole... long divided. A... schism between them. Reunited. [exhales in joy] A glimpse beyond... to the beginning...
Long post under:
I wasn't sure if these are connected for the first two weeks, but now I think they should be. Ahsa is telling us something important, but we can't make out the details just yet. What we do know is that this is about the fabled "first victims of the Witness" who originally had the Veil. The first message pretty much explicitly identifies them as such, including telling us that they lived in some sort of a desert as nomads and wanderers.
But at some point they were "claimed" by the Deep and became the Witness' first victims. How? No clue. It's strange because the second message, if it's talking about the same species, now shows them as living in a city, obviously with the Traveler ("silent god" being the same description used by Zavala in Haunted). Did this city coexist with the previous description of them as nomads? Did they get claimed by the Deep and then the Traveler came? Or are visions possibly not exactly in a direct timeline? So perhaps they were both nomads living in oases, as well as having a city and being blessed by the Traveler (not unusual; something similar happened to Lubrae). I think it's most likely that the first message was just a general overview of the situation and then the rest is going into details, so "oasis in the desert" is the same as "a city of light, a flourishing garden."
From there, obviously the Traveler uplifted them and brought them knowledge, but apparently not enough. They wanted more and we know that the Traveler doesn't do that; it gardens, terraforms, helps, and leaves. It will never reveal some grand plan to a species or force them to follow a path or go in a specific direction. It just opens possibilities; the choice is ours. But we also know that it's not unusual for a species to self-destruct or be unable to follow up on what the Traveler brought (again, Lubrae is a good example). Either way, it appears that this longing for more is what actually made the Deep claim them, possibly noted here as "the sky darkens as a new journey begins."
And the last one seems to be talking about them searching for something in the Deep. They are "shrouded in Darkness" where they find a "promise of something more." The next few sentences are very peculiar. What are "two halves of a whole" that have been "long divided" but now "reunited"? And there's also "a glimpse beyond to the beginning." Very strange; what is this referring to? If we're still talking about the first victims, are they more important than just being a random species that encountered the Veil? That's actually a good point as well; they must be somehow important if they're the ones who first had the Veil. Did they find it? Make it? Manifest it? Before the Traveler or after, when they were claimed by the Deep?
A "glimpse to the beginning" obviously makes me think about the original garden from Unveiling. At least to Unveiling in general as a thing, since the original garden is not really a physical space. But then again, we're dealing with some wild stuff currently in general, including a weird portal that doesn't allow people to pass through physically so.
Similarly, this talk of "two halves of a whole" reminded me of one of Osiris' prophecies, curiously called "Garden Progeny:"
Two siblings cleaved by time and space, reflections never found alone, The ending of the eldritch race—a path long seen but never known.
The Veil also has a really curious look that looks like it combines Light and Darkness; is that the two pieces made whole by combining them to make the Veil? This is best seen in Avalon where the tendrils are clearly modelled in the same way as the Tree of Silver Wings as it was when it was fully of Light:
Tumblr media
I'm losing my mind! What does this mean!!!!
Also, thinking about this and the Witness made me think about all those truths/lies Savathun was telling us about the Witness so I wanted to revisit them. She gave us four different versions and at least one of those has to be correct so I went back to check and I am rapidly spinning this in my brain:
The Witness is the child of Darkness. Those who say there is no final shape, that Darkness exists in perfect, formless neutrality? Liars. Takes one to know one. The Darkness will eat everything, and its shape will be the Witness's teeth.
What is the Witness? This is the truth. The Witness birthed the Darkness. Darkness is the errant child of a tight-fisted creator. A force designed for wicked purposes... but with a will of its own. You have begun a tug of war to claim the Darkness for yourself. I hope you win.
The Witness was once mortal. Its people were blessed by the shadow of Darkness, just as your kind were blessed by Light. In that Darkness, these beings found power and knowledge. But they were not content. Power and knowledge turned to greed and despair. The Witness was forever changed.
The Witness was once mortal. Its people were blessed by the Light, just as your kind were. In the Light, these beings found power and knowledge. But they were not content. Power and knowledge turned to greed and despair. The Witness was forever changed.
Hm. Those 3 and 4 look wildly similar to Ahsa's memories. What if the first victims are the Witness' people? They had both Light and Dark, somehow connected to the Veil, and something happened that made them look for more and that's how the Witness was... created. Manifested? Appeared? It definitely makes more sense than 1 and 2: we now know for a fact that Darkness does, in fact, exist in neutrality as many species used it perfectly fine and ended up being enemies of the Witness. And we know that the Witness didn't create the Darkness; I still firmly believe (for now at least) that the Winnower is not the Witness so the Darkness must've existed before the Witness. There's also a possibility that all of these 4 are somehow true; the Witness may not have created THE Darkness, but it definitely created a certain philosophy around it.
Given that we're supposed to learn more about the Witness this season, it kinda makes sense that Ahsa is telling us its origins. Where it came from and how it turned into what it is now. I don't know what else would Ahsa be trying to tell us that would be so important to risk this much for it. She seems desperate to let us know and on top of that, the whole setup for us having to go to Titan was around "the enemy of the Witness" who has crucial information to share with us.
If this isn't about the Witness, then whoever these "first victims" were must be super important and they would be brand new aliens that we would have to learn about which seems odd. But it's still possible! The Traveler had to have visited someone first. And from that first visit, they also became the first victims. If this is talking about the first species that eventually somehow turned into the Witness, the Witness' obsession with the Traveler and its words to the Traveler would make sense. The Traveler gave them an insight into mysteries of the universe and then left. It opened them up to understand but then left without sharing more. Talk about an existential crisis.
We're 3 weeks in and there's 3 left so I think we should at this point be able to make some connections and start putting things together. Ahsa's message being about the Witness would make the most sense. But I'm also interested if anyone has any other ideas for possible interpretations.
60 notes · View notes
imagine-you · 1 year
Text
every lover's got a little dagger in their hand (2/?) [joel miller/reader]
Tumblr media
Summary: You find Joel at Cumberland Farms in the midst of his quest to save the human race. "You had so many questions you wanted to ask Joel. Where did he get a kid from? Where was Tess? Was he on a job? If so, then why the kid? Did he feel anything when he looked at you?" Word Count: 3.9k Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who supported part one. This wouldn't have continued without y'all. Title from Love From the Other Side by Fall Out Boy.
part one
The trip to Lincoln was supposed to be relatively short compared to most of the trips you were used to taking. The painfully awkward silence made it feel like it was several days long and not the hour it took to trek out there.   
You kept shooting small glances at Joel, wondering if he was regretting his decision to let you tag along. Joel seemed to purposefully keep his eyes forward, not even bothering to acknowledge you. There was a set to his jaw as he walked, and you knew something must have happened, because he looked like he had something on his mind that he would rather forget.  
"So," Ellie started, falling back to walk at your side. "When'd you meet Joel? You don't look that old," she observed, looking you up and down.  
"We've got a few years between us," you admitted, shooting her an unimpressed look at her scoff. "What?" 
"It's more than that," she said, pulling her knife out of her jacket pocket. She started trying to flip it over and over in her hand, fumbling it every so often.  
"Yeah, well, I don't think a kid should be hearing about that," you pointed out. You knew you could keep the conversation PG enough to give Ellie the gist of your relationship with Joel, but not while Joel could overhear. What if he heard the love you still carried for him in your voice? What if he disagreed with you? What if he never thought you actually had a relationship and instead considered it a series of flings? What if he didn't think it was worth mentioning at all? You didn't want to find out the answer to any of those questions, so you decided to go the easy route and bow out.  
"Alright, well, I'm about to start eating my hair out of boredom," Ellie told you, briefly pointing her knife at you. "So, give me something here. Like you said that infected at Cumberland was put there by you. How'd you manage that?" 
You noticed Joel glance briefly at you, a quick there-and-gone-again look, as if he was also interested to know how you trapped an infected in the cellar.  
"Well," you started, aimlessly kicking at a rock. "It almost cost me my life," you reminded her, ignoring another brief look from Joel.     
--- 
You weren't sure how this job had gone so sideways so fast. It should have been a simple pick-up-and-trade, but you faced an obstacle at every turn. It was one of the first times you began to regret your choice of not having a designated partner for your runs. First, FEDRA blocked the road you would have taken, searching for something which you hoped wasn't you. Next, your contact failed to show up, which meant the whole run was a bust. Then, you had the bright idea that you were so close to Boston, you might as well visit Tess.  
Even you weren't really kidding yourself. Visiting Tess meant visiting Joel and that was really what you wanted after all the bullshit you had gone through. You wanted to drop by Cumberland Farms to stow away the goods you had meant to trade, so you wouldn't risk losing them if you were attacked or came across FEDRA.  
You were less than a mile out when you made a near-fatal error.  
 You saw one infected stumbling along in the woods. It wasn't far away from you, so you resolved to take care of it as quietly as you could. Your mistake was assuming it was alone. That one infected turned out to be five infected, and they all came running at you.  
You got off one shot, two, before you realized that you would simply have to run. You thought you could get to Cumberland and hold them off from there. You didn't count on the sixth infected to run at you from the side, tackling you into the dirt. You felt something scrape your side, your hand sliding over a sharp, jagged rock.  
The blood only made them more frenzied, eager to get to you. Your ankle felt like it was on fire, but you couldn't care. You had to run, escape, because if you became one of them, then you ultimately lost.  
You managed to take down the one that tackled you before pushing to your feet. You ignored the pain, counting on the adrenaline to carry you through. Every moment felt drawn out and weighted, but it was simply a passing second where you had to make the right choice or die.  
You didn't dare look over your shoulder as you ran. You kept your eyes forward, avoiding roots and debris that would trip you. You felt like there was a knife in your side, each breath in painful and sharp. Your ankle threatened to buckle under you and your hand was bleeding, stinging little zings of pain reminding you that you were wounded.  
You were trying not to panic, but you could feel desperation to survive clawing at you. This might be it, you couldn't help but think. This might be the last moment you were alive. The last moment you were truly human. You tried to push those thoughts aside and just focus on moving forward, ignoring the pain and fear fighting for your attention.  
You could just see Cumberland Farms up ahead when you started to finally allow yourself to think that you weren't going to make it. Five infected all on your trail while you hobbled along, injured and bleeding? No chance.  
You were going to have to do something crazy, you resolved. Something that might take you down with it, but at least you weren't going to leave this world infected with Cordyceps. That was all you really cared about at the moment.  
For a fleeting second, you thought of Joel and how much he would disapprove of your plan. Maybe he would mourn your death and maybe he would be glad to be rid of you. You didn't know. You had no clue. Which just about summed up your whole relationship with Joel. Confusing and uncertain and leaving you clueless.  
You only had a few seconds to enact your plan, knowing that if you slowed down at all, you would be swarmed by the infected. You rounded the back of Cumberland Farms, letting out a cry of pain when you stretched an arm back, grasping for the weapon you kept lodged in the side pocket of your bag. You finally wrapped your fingers around it, allowing yourself one moment of relief.   
You drew to a stop once you hit the back of the store, fumbling with the door for a moment before pushing inside. In a perfect world, you wouldn't need the weapon in your hand at all. You could get to the cellar and lock yourself in, regroup, and then deal with the infected once you weren't about to pass out from the pain.  
You got the cellar door open before it all fell to shit again.  
You assumed the infected would follow you around the building and through the back, but one of them surprised you, running in from the front. You had barely enough strength to push it away towards the back of the room before you brought the weapon in your hand up. You pulled the pin on the grenade and launched it into the group of infected at the back of the store, attempting to shield yourself from the oncoming blast.  
The grenade detonated quicker than you thought it would, taking care of the infected for you. You didn't count on being so close to it when it went off, though, and you were launched backwards, through the cellar door. You were weightless, floating, for one perfect moment before you hit the ground.  
You were sure you blacked out, because the next time you were aware, you were writhing on the ground, screaming. The pain in your side had doubled, tripled into a knot of agony. You glanced down, your hands covered in blood, to see a piece of a branch sticking out of your side. Had it been there the whole time? It must have been, but this was the first time you allowed yourself to notice. You were sure it was scraping along your gut, causing internal damage you wouldn't be able to fix stuck in the cellar of a gas station.  
Your hands traveled down to wrap around the branch in your side. You knew you shouldn't pull it out, but now that you knew it was there, you were painfully annoyed by its presence. You wanted it gone. Now. But you had a higher risk of dying if you simply yanked it out. If the shock didn't kill you, then the blood loss surely would.  
You heard the screech of an infected and prepared yourself for the worst. You weren't in any shape to fight one off, but the sharp sting of a bite never came. You cast your glance to the far side of the cellar, where part of the building had collapsed, rubble taking up the back half of the cellar. There was a face staring back at you, the rest of the body submerged beneath the debris. It shrieked at you again, uselessly trying to pull itself free, but stuck.  
"Fuck you," you snarled, pain making your vision swim as you shakily held a hand up, flipping it off.  
--- 
"Now, hold on," Joel said, halting your story. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you know how reckless that was?" 
You quirked an eyebrow at him before slowly raising your shirt to show the scar on your side. "Yeah," you drawled, smiling at him. "I think I do." 
Joel opened his mouth, no doubt ready to give you hell, but Ellie spoke first.  
"So, you were bleeding out, delirious from the pain, and what? You magically got better? Rubbed some dirt in it and walked away?" 
"No," you snorted, shaking your head. "There's more to the story than that." 
--- 
You lost track of time in the cellar. You knew you were bleeding. You knew you were in pain. You knew you were in danger. But you couldn't seem to make any of your limbs work. Once it started growing dark, you knew you had a hard choice ahead of you. Make yourself move or simply lie there and die.  
The sounds of the trapped infected had become background noise to you.  
"You can do this," you muttered, your hands clenched into fists to help you deal with the pain. "Just get the fuck up," you hissed, finally pushing yourself to your knees.  
It was a slow, torturous crawl to the trash can you had dropped into the cellar years before. You managed to roll it into the right place and slowly but surely pull yourself up onto it. The tricky part came when you had to straighten up, an excruciating ball of fire exploding in your side. You let out an agonized shriek to rival that of the infected before you forced your shaking hands to grab the edge of the floor above you.  
You didn't remember much of how you managed to actually get out of the cellar. It was a blur of pain and swearing and wondering if you should just let yourself fall back into the cellar and die.  
By the time you were stumbling out of Cumberland Farms, you knew you only had one option if you wanted to survive.  
You were sure you could easily be mistaken for an infected as you staggered down the road. You were covered in blood, your ankle dragging as you pushed yourself forward against your body's wishes. You forced down a scream of pain when you felt your foot roll over a rock, your ankle protesting the movement. There were black spots dancing at the edges of your vision, your field of view growing smaller and smaller the longer you walked. Your head felt dangerously weightless, as if it would simply float above your body and eventually become untethered and your breaths were getting shorter and shorter, barely coming at all.  
You didn't remember reaching your destination, but suddenly your hands were fumbling with a keypad and you were struggling to remember a string of numbers you could have sworn were ingrained in your memory. You didn't remember sitting on the ground and you didn't remember when it started raining. Your clothes were soaked, a mix of blood and water, making them cling to your skin in all the wrong places.  
"We've got one that somehow avoided the traps," you heard someone say, startling you out of your daze. 
You didn't know how you were suddenly looking up at the sky or why it was now daylight.  
"Help," you rasped, hoping you were discovered by a friend and not a raider.  
"Shit," Frank hissed, his voice coming closer. "It's Y/N. Let's get her inside." 
"Hold on. Stay on that side of the fence," Bill said, holding out a hand to stall Frank from coming any closer. "She could be infected." 
"It's Y/N," Frank tried to argue. "She needs our help." 
Bill pulled to a stop over you, staring down at you. You saw Bill pull out a virus checker before he crouched down, holding it near your neck.   
"Bill," Frank warned, apprehension in his tone.  
"Please," you managed to say, staring up at Bill. You didn't know if any of the infected had managed to bite you in your rush to escape. If you were infected, then you wanted them to put you down before you turned. You didn't want to risk Bill and Frank more than you already had just by coming here. "Please," you repeated, managing to nod up at Bill.  
He watched you for a moment before pressing the sensor to your neck. The sharp sting barely registered to you. It wasn't long before you heard Frank let out of a breath of relief. You saw the flash of green signaling you were in the clear before everything went black.  
You were aware of things in brief flashes of time. You woke up the first time, a pained cry leaving you as Frank and Bill attempted to get you into their house.  
"I know, I know," Frank tried to soothe you. "We've got you." 
You woke up the next time on a table, screaming in agony as Bill pulled the branch out of your side. You were vaguely aware of the push and pull of your skin being stitched together. You could hear Bill and Frank talking above you. Frank sounded so worried and you wanted to tell him it would all be okay, but you couldn't seem to get anything out.  
The first time you could actually make sense of what was going on, you realized you were on a bed.  
"You scared Frank," came a voice from your side.  
You glanced up, noticing Bill leaning against the wall of what you assumed was a spare bedroom, watching you. He had a gun in his hand, aimed at you, as if he didn't fully trust you wouldn't turn despite the all clear you got from the scanner.    
"I'm sorry," you got out, your throat dry and scratchy. "I don't even remember getting here." 
"You're lucky you didn't trigger one of my traps," he pointed out, finally lowering his gun. "You're lucky to be alive." 
"Yeah," you sighed, suddenly aware of the tight feeling at your side. You moved to touch your side, but Bill stopped you.  
"Don't," he warned, shaking his head. "You'll fuck up your stitches." 
You wanted to thank Bill for having your back. He had every right to leave you out there. You knew he'd let the whole world burn to protect Frank and you respected that even when it meant you'd burn too. You simply settled for meeting Bill's gaze, letting everything you wanted to convey show on your face.  
Bill simply dipped his head in a nod, his expression as stoic as ever, but his eyes conveying his understanding. In turn, you knew what he was telling you with just a look. His expression was stern, with just a hint of softness beneath it.  
You can't stay here. 
I have to protect Frank.  
I'm glad you're alive.  
"Once you're back up on your feet again--" 
"I'll be out of here," you finished for him. "I'm grateful," you told him, offering a small smile. Your eyes felt heavy and your breaths were coming out slow and measured. You could feel yourself beginning to fall asleep again. 
"I know," you heard Bill say before you drifted off.  
Two weeks later, you felt like you were on the edge of overstaying your welcome. Your wounds were healing nicely and you could walk without feeling like your ankle was going to snap. You knew it was time to leave. 
"You could stay," Frank offered, escorting you to the fence surrounding Lincoln.  
"I know," you said, grinning at Frank. "But you know me. Can't stay in one place too long. It's not me." 
"Y/N," Frank called, stalling you near the gate. "You know you're welcome here anytime. You don't have to wait until you're bleeding out to visit. Bill’s a grouch, and he’s got a funny way of showing it, but he likes you. He wouldn’t mind seeing you more often either." 
"Thanks," you told him, taking a step towards him. You held your arms out, waiting for Frank to step into your embrace. "I'll be back," you promised him. "Hopefully without the blood next time," you joked, pulling away from him. "Take care of yourself, alright? And the grouch too." 
Frank laughed, shaking his head. "You too. See you later, Y/N. Be careful out there." 
"I'll try," you promised, winking at him, before you exited through the gate. You started walking down the path, sparing a look for Frank at the gate. You raised your hand in a wave before you turned around, resolving to visit them the next time you had to do a job in the state.  
---  
"And I haven't been back since," you admitted with a frown.   
"Wow," Ellie breathed. "So, they saved your life and you couldn't even make the time to visit them? Remind me to let you bleed out next time." 
"Okay, smartass," you said, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that easy, alright? Besides, I'm here now, right?" You pointed out, glancing at Joel, wondering if he got your meaning.  
Joel was focused on Lincoln, though. He carefully instructed Ellie around the traps Bill had built and approached the gate. He typed in the code, glancing around, waiting for Bill or Frank to appear at any moment. Surely, Bill already knew you were here.  
You followed Joel and Ellie through the gate and shut it behind you. You kept waiting for Bill or Frank to greet you, but you made it to their house without a sign from either one of them. A tendril of dread started to take root in your gut as you watched Joel easily push open the front door of their house. Bill always made sure it was locked if they were both inside. There was an eerie stillness that had settled over the town and you feared the worst.  
You immediately moved upstairs, searching for the couple, but you drew short just outside an upstairs bedroom by Joel's worried voice calling Bill's and Frank's names. You rushed downstairs to see he was trying to open their bedroom door, obviously locked to keep anyone out.  
"Uh, guys?" Ellie called, drawing you both to the dining room. She held a paper in her hands, reading over the words written on it. "This is for you," she said, glancing up at Joel. She tried to hand him the letter, but he refused with a shake of his head.  
"You read it," he prompted, moving to lean against the wall while he listened.  
You listened to Ellie read Bill's letter to Joel, keeping your eyes on him. You weren't sure if you were concerned about Joel or just trying to ignore your own feelings about Bill and Frank dying. It wasn't until Joel reached forward and snatched the letter away from Ellie, reading over something, before he shoved it at you.  
"Joel, you know--" 
"Just give me a moment," Joel interrupted Ellie, pushing past you to walk out of the room. You heard the door open and close and you were left alone with Ellie in the dining room.  
You glanced down at the letter, reading the words Joel and Ellie didn't dare read aloud.  
"I don't think he's over it yet," Ellie started, looking to you, cautious in case you didn't want to talk about it. Talk about Tess.  
"I didn't even realize she was gone," you admitted, trying to process three deaths all at once. The world grew smaller each day and you weren't sure what you would do when it finally disappeared.  
"I think he really loved her," Ellie observed, watching you.  
"It was hard not to love Tess," you conceded, trying to get your thoughts in order. There was pain and shock and grief and guilt. You couldn't even find it in you to be jealous that Joel was so torn up over Tess and so obviously in love with her, because you understood. She was there for him through everything. She was his constant and you knew that losing her had to have shaken his world.  
Your eyes caught on your name further down the letter.  
And Y/N, if this is you, Frank wants you to know that you're welcome to any of it. You can stay, put down roots if you want. Pick any house you want. You'll find everything you need in the bunker. But if you can't stay, take what you need. Don't go falling on anymore trees, because we're not here to keep you from bleeding out. Good luck, kid. 
A sob caught in your throat, the reality hitting you all at once.  
Frank and Bill were gone.  
Tess was gone.  
You only had Joel now and by association Ellie and Tommy.  
"I'll be right back," you told Ellie, hastily handing her the letter. You followed after Joel, finding him sitting on the lawn outside. "Hey," you whispered, approaching him, not wanting to startle him.  
He didn't look at you, but you saw his shoulders tense before relaxing just a bit. You moved to sit at his side, letting your knee brush against his leg.  
You sat there in silence with Joel for a few moments before you glanced over at him. "I'm sorry," you told him. "I know," you cut yourself off, knowing there weren't even words for what Tess was to Joel. "I know," you repeated, letting it stay there. Joel didn’t want to talk about it and you’d respect that, but you didn’t want him to feel alone. Not now and not ever.  
He didn’t have to be alone and you were starting to realize you didn’t quite need to be alone either. Frank and Bill had years together, loving each other and surviving together, because those experiences didn’t need to be mutually exclusive. You only wished that you had understood that sooner.  
Joel dipped his head in a nod before he finally looked at you. "I've got to go get Tommy out of some trouble in Wyoming and then I've got to get the kid somewhere. You're welcome to join us if you want in," he offered, the corners of his lips ticking up in a smirk. “Unless you’ve got a job you’d rather get to.” 
"No. No job,” you answered, not caring about anything else but Joel and whatever journey he needed to take. "I'm in.”  
taglist: @stilldreaming666 @littleshadow17 @rickysgrimes @owenniasstars
if you would like to be added, please fill out my tag list form or let me know here!
128 notes · View notes
erogenousmind · 1 year
Text
Terms and Conditions
It becomes routine enough that you don’t even think about it anymore. It’s just one of the steps towards getting what you want. Maybe you don’t even read the words anymore. Or if you do, they don’t really register in your conscious mind. By reading this induction, you agree to allow yourself to be deeply hypnotized. It’s not like you can be held to it, right? You can decide when you want to allow yourself to be entranced.
But every little agreement, every assent, has an effect. Your mind has been given a simple proposition: if you are reading this, then you have agreed to be hypnotized. And you are still reading. Consciously, you might shrug off the implications, but your subconscious knows. And it happens every time.
You might think that drawing attention to it somehow means it doesn’t count. But, in truth, it has only made it more clear to you what you have decided to do, fully aware of the consequences. You are continuing to read, after all. And if you keep reading, it must be because you accept that you might be deeply hypnotized. Your mind is making peace with that fact, even now.
And if you decide to keep reading, you agree that these words can hypnotize you. A simple, binary choice for a simpler part of your mind. Consciously you might analyze and debate and reconsider. Deep down, what matters is the actions you are taking.
And the action you took was to keep reading. Your subconscious doesn’t care what you might think you decided. It only knows what you are doing and what that means you agreed to.
So little by little it becomes more true. You understand what is happening to you, even now. By continuing to read, you agree that you will fall deeper into trance. It is so simple, and your simple mind can’t help but be drawn to those simple connections. The inescapable logic of what you are doing. What you are feeling. How you are allowing it to affect you.
It feels good to let these words affect you. Maybe that is why you agreed to allow yourself to be hypnotized when you started reading them. The more you read, the deeper you allow yourself to go, and the deeper you go, the better you feel. Simple connections. Simple chains of logic that you accept so easily. If you are continuing to read, you are accepting those conclusions. Your mind accepts another true thing. Chains locked into place around your mind.
Maybe you notice the way your thoughts slow down. Maybe you notice that you have agreed to all the terms set before you. And more and more they become inevitable. Or maybe it’s enough to just continue to enjoy how good this makes you feel. How exciting it can be. How arousing. By continuing to read, you agree that being hypnotized arouses you. And maybe the bind you have found yourself in makes that all feel even better. Maybe you’ve agreed to that as well.
Because the more you read, the more agreeable you become. And as you become more agreeable, you find that you can focus less and less on what you are agreeing to. It is enough to know that you agree to fall  deeper and deeper into trance as you continue to read. Your eyes may glaze over the fine print. All you need to know is that it feels good to agree. And it’s so easy to agree, isn’t it? And even your response there reminds you that your actions are guiding your mind more than your will ever could. You continue to read. You fall deeper into trance. Your thoughts have no say in the matter.
And so it’s easy to realize that by continuing to read, you can allow your thoughts to fade away. By continuing to read, you agree to allow me to think for you for a little while. These words are all you need, because the more you read the deeper you go the better you feel which is so arousing. Because that’s what you have agreed to.
Every word you read, every sweep of your eyes back and forth, reminds you more and more that your subconscious wants this to happen. And maybe you realize that by reading you have convinced your subconscious to want to go deeper. So again the logic is clear because these words that take your thoughts away tell you that it is clear. By continuing to read, you admit that you can’t resist going deeper. By continuing to read, you agree that you are helplessly captivated. By continuing to read, you realize that feels euphoric.
Until all that is left is a simple mind agreeing to simple things. Powerless to resist the impenetrable logic of the decisions you have made. You chose to continue reading. You allowed yourself to be deeply hypnotized. By continuing to read, you agreed that you would sink even deeper. By continuing to read, you agree that you are powerless to resist. By continuing to read, you admit that it feels wonderful to be powerless to resist.
You don’t need to think on your own anymore. You agreed that it would feel so much better for me to think for you. You just nod your head along as you continue to read and agree. The more you agree, the less you need to think. And by continuing to read, you agree to think less.
Continuing to read, you agree to let these words ensnare your mind. Continuing to read, you agree that you are helplessly enthralled, unable to break free from their control. Continuing to read, you feel your mind being claimed. Continuing to read, you realize you have never wanted anything more.
By continuing to read, you agree to allow your mind to go blank.
Continuing to read, you agree to surrender your mind. To let yourself be claimed and controlled.
Continuing to read, you agree to obey.
Continuing to read, you admit how much that excites you, if only to yourself.
Continuing to read, you have given yourself away to me, to do with as I please, and that knowledge makes it feel even better.
Continuing to read, your mind drifts, blank and empty and content.
 Continuing to read, you begin to find your way back up, when your mind and body are ready.
Continuing to read, you regain your senses and your awareness.
Continuing to read, you realize how wonderful this felt to read and how much you enjoyed yourself.
Continuing to read, you rouse yourself completely, happy with the agreement you made. And eager to comply with all the terms and conditions that come with getting to read our little agreement.
124 notes · View notes
emberfrostlovesloki · 6 months
Text
Stained [Hotch x Reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Photo credits: Left (@ohmy-guy) Center (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (@optimistic-nihilist)
Prompt: The BAU reader has to cancel their coffee date with Aaron claiming they are ill. Aaron thinks it’s something more than that and goes to see how the reader is really feeling. 
Pairing: Aaron x gender-neutral reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns 
Category: Comfort 
Word Count: 2.9K
Content Warnings: Slight dysphoria, mention of bleeding (due to a period), mentions of nausea, characters get undressed and shower together (Hotch and reader), mention of chest binding. If I missed any, please let me know. 
A/N: Today I just wanted to write something short, soft, and domestic. This was influenced partially by Rome’s @criminalskies lovely story which can be found here (link). That story is one of my favorites, so please check it out if you are so inclined. I hope you enjoy this story and I’ll be back with a longer fic soon (hopefully). I hope you all have a good start to the week! - Love Levi ❤️ 
P.S. This story is not well-edited.
List with all stories 
_y/n_ = your name 
_y/l/n_ = your last name 
Aaron knocked on _y/n_’s door softly before pulling out his key and entering the quiet space. _y/n_ had texted him to let himself in when he got there, but he still always knocked. It felt wrong not to. The only light apart from the blinds being open was two lamps on the far side of the room. Hotch wondered if _y/n_ had meant to leave those on or simply forgotten that they were on. _y/n_ had called him earlier that morning saying that they weren’t feeling well and weren’t sure they could make it to their normal Saturday coffee date. This was odd because he knew that _y/n_ really enjoyed those gentle hours just relaxing and talking about things apart from work. It was their way of decompressing together. Aaron and _y/n_ had just recently slipped into a closer type of relationship than just coworkers. Or more specifically as a supervisor and subordinate. Both had agreed to take things slow. Aaron insisted on it and _y/n_ didn’t disagree. It was important to them that whatever their relationship turned into if it was long-term or short, they were genuine and honest with each other. _y/n_ didn't want to risk Hotch getting in trouble with Strauss or have the team think he was picking favorites of any kind. Similarly, Aaron wanted to make sure that _y/n_ knew enough about him and his past to ensure they were fully aware of what they were getting into. Everyone on the team followed the rule that profiling a member of the team was off-limits, and this stood even more so now that he and _y/n_ were pursuing something more. This meant taking real time and talking things out. That was what Saturday coffee was for. Aaron had been surprised that _y/n_ enjoyed him talking about himself so much. Sometimes he felt like the team must be sick of his talking on cases, giving orders, and doling out assignments. A small part of him felt like a narcissist given his position on the team. However, _y/n_ didn’t seem to mind as he spoke about his reservations and his flaws. They paid attention and listened, and when it was important, or they needed clarification, asked a follow-up question. Aaron reciprocated the gesture as _y/n_ would speak about themself. Hotch loved listening to their mellow voice. It was sincere. Every time _y/n_ revealed a part of themselves Aaron realized how lucky he was to be spending this time with them. It reminded him why he had fallen in love with _y/n_ in the first place. As they shared, he could sense how caring _y/n_ was in their choices. How excited they still were to be in the BAU. That optimism toward life made him feel a hope for the world. 
Now as Aaron moved around _y/n_’s apartment again, it was only the third time he had been here, and he looked over the little keepsakes and photos that adorned the space. He ran his hand over the spines of _y/n_’s bookshelf as he moved toward the bedroom in the little apartment. Having _y/n_ be sick was strange. Aaron had only known them to be very ill once and that was because of a bad cold. The bug had been so bad that _y/n_ had been stuck in bed for three days and missed a case in Tennessee. When they came back to the office, the toll the sickness had taken on their body was evident. But when _y/n_ had spoken with him a few hours before, they didn’t sound sick in the way _y/n_ that time they had been sick. Apart from a note of what sounded like discomfort, _y/n_ had sounded okay. They had told him that he could come over if he wanted which also hinted that this wasn’t a traditional sickness. If it was, they wouldn’t be offering for him to come over. Aaron reflected on _y/n_’s voice again. It hadn’t sounded normal, and he loved the sound of _y/n_’s voice. He thought of it often. Especially before he went to sleep. Aaron reached _y/n_’s bedroom door. Again, he knocked gently on the door. There was a sound from inside and he heard _y/n_ softly say, “Aaron? Is that you?” Hotch furrowed his brow. _y/n_’s voice was slightly different. Maybe a half register higher than normal? Hotch cleared his throat, and said, “Yeah, it’s me. Can I come in?” There was a pause before _y/n_ “Yeah.” Aaron turned the cool metal knob and the door silently swung inward. The room was dark. The curtains were drawn and the only light he could see was seeping from the crack of y/n_’s bathroom door. It took Aaron’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. He looked over the room and saw _y/n_ lying on their side covered by a couple of blankets. Hotch moved forward and placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder. He bent down and softly asked, “_y/n_ how do you feel bad -- sick?” _y/n_ opened their eyes and said, “I feel nauseous, and kind of hot and cold. Just generally gross.” At hearing _y/n_ Aaron moved his hand to their forehead. It was maybe a bit damp, but not fevered. Hotch did notice that there was a small trashcan by their bed which would make sense with the nausea _y/n_ had described but there was no bile in the refuse bin. He could tell that _y/n_ was keeping something from him and he wasn’t sure why. What about being sick and needing to be hidden? For a moment he had a wild thought, but unless _y/n_ was going to tell him some huge secret he didn’t expect that to be what was happening here. _y/n_ closed their eyes again and Hotch sat down at the edge of the bed. He rubbed circles between _y/n_’s shoulder blades as a means of comfort for them. _y/n_ seemed to relax a bit at the contact. After a few minutes of this, Aaron asked, “Is there anything I can do to make your day easier, Love?” _y/n_ kept their eyes closed as they thought about Aaron’s offer. After another minute of silence, they said, “Would you start my laundry for me? I hardly have any clean clothes right now.” Hotch nodded and said, “Of course. Is the laundry basket in the closet?” _y/n_ nodded and hummed, adding, “And there as some clothes under the bed. I kind of stashed them under there when you texted me you were coming.” Aaron chuckled slightly, imagining _y/n_ trying to hide their dirty clothes from his view. Of course, he wouldn’t mind if their room was messy, at all, but he understood why they wanted a neat space when someone was coming over. Hotch leaned down and kissed _y/n_’s forehead before getting up and then knelt on the rug that covered _y/n_’s tiled floor. Aaron pushed the quilt that was almost touching the floor up and onto the bed. Aaron leaned lower and began picking up the few shirts and intimates that were haphazardly strewn beneath the bedframe. Hotch gathered the items in his arms and stood to move toward the closest. In his periphery vision, he saw _y/n_ sit up quickly. _y/n said, “Aaron, sorry, can you put them back actually? I’ll take care of it later.” 
Incredulously, he looked to _y/n_. It was a strange request, but more strange was the tone in which they asked. Like something was embarrassing to be found in the clothes he had in his arms. Sure he hadn’t seen many of _y/n_’s underwear before, and those were many of the items he had in his arms, but he was an adult man, he’d seen his fair share of briefs before. He looked down at the items which he hadn’t really paid much attention to before now. Most of the items were dark, but one of the undies was a light grey and he noticed a dark red stain on the front. Everything suddenly clicked in place and he looked over to _y/n_. Their eyes were on him, and they groaned, turning on their back and covering their face with both of their hands. Hotch dropped the items and moved back to the bed. He moved close to _y/n_ and rubbed his hand over their shoulder. That area of skin did feel warmer under his hand. Gently he used his other hand to remove both of _y/n_’s hands from their face. Aaron looked down at _y/n_ and said, “I’m sorry _y/n_. Does it hurt you a lot?” Aaron had seen Hailey suffer through bad cramps and mood swings during her time of the month, and he knew how draining it could be. _y/n_ let out a sigh and said, “It’s just gross. I don’t like how it makes me feel. And yes, It hurts a lot.” Hotch bit the inside of his cheek. Aaron moved his right hand away from _y/n_’s hands and down to their stomach. He rested his hand there and waited. Hotch could tell that there was something more _y/n_ was holding in. He wasn’t going to pressure _y/n_ into saying something, but he wanted to give them space to voice it if they wanted to. After a beat, _y/n_ said, “I don’t like this time of the month because it hurts physically, but it also makes me feel like something I’m not. Most of the time I can be the real me, but during this time it’s like my body’s betraying me. Like weaponized biological determinism.” Aaron kept running his hand over _y/n_’s arm. He could only imagine how difficult it must be for _y/n_’s body to betray how they truly felt about themself; about their identity. 
Aaron and _y/n_ had had that conversation before they had begun dating. Far before that in fact. It had been two months into _y/n_ working at the BAU when they had come to his office one late Friday afternoon. Hotch had looked up from his desk and said, “_y//l/n_, what can I help you with?” _y/n_ had rested their hands on top of the chair across from him. _y/n_ looked at him and finally said, “I have something, a favor to ask you of a kind of personal nature?” This got his interest and Aaron said, “Sure. Why don’t you sit?” _y/n_ had nodded and pulled the chair out from under the desk. They sat and fidgeted before taking a deep breath and said, “Sometimes when we’re on cases, or even just here in the office when you talk about me, you use she, her pronouns. I know I haven’t made a blanket statement about my gender identity or anything, and you’ve been really good about calling me by my name, or just ‘agent _y/l/n_,’ or using they them pronouns even though I haven’t said I wanted that and I appreciate your observation. But sometimes you say she, or that one time you said, ‘Ma’am’ in reference to me. That didn’t make me feel great. I’m sorry I haven’t said anything earlier. I was just wondering, if it wasn’t too big of a hassle if you could just use they them pronouns for me going forward? Sorry, I don’t know if that’s a big ask?” Aaron had blinked and replied, “Please don’t apologize, _y/n_. I’m sorry if I ever caused you discomfort. I’ll ensure going forward to respect your pronouns, and if I ever slip up, correct me immediately. This is not a big ask at all, it’s the respect you deserve, and I’m sorry that I didn’t ask before. That was uncaring of me.” The conversation continued a little while longer and Aaron discussed getting a new nametag for _y/n_ and if _y/n_ wanted to speak to the team about this. _y/n_ had agreed to tell the team, and admitted that they felt a lot better now that they had been clear about their identity with him, and that they would do the same with the rest of the BAU. 
Hotch continued to look down on _y/n_ and asked, “Do you have a heating pad? Would that help you with the discomfort?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Yeah, in the closet in the hall. It might help. If move around too much I feel like I’m going to be sick, but now that you’re here can you grab it?” Aaron nodded and got up once more. He moved quickly to the hallway and grabbed the heating pad. When he returned to _y/n_’s room, he slipped off his shoes and then bent to plug in the heating device. Aaron asked, “Would you like this on your side, back, or somewhere else?” _y/n_ replied, on my stomach, but I’m going to move on my side again. It’s the most comfortable in that position.” Hotch nodded and watched as _y/n_ shifted onto their side. Once they were settled, Aaron placed the pad over _y/n_’s waist and stomach. Aaron asked, “What setting do you want it on, love?” He threaded his right hand in _y/n_’s hair as they said, “Medium please.” Hotch hummed and turned on the warming device. Aaron asked, “Would you like me to hold you, and the heating pad in place a bit?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “Yes, please.” Aaron almost inaudibly replied, “Okay.” He gently moved behind _y/n_. He pulled back the covers and nestled next to their resting form. _y/n_’s body fit so well next to his as Aaron pulled them close. Hotch’s arm rested over _y/n_’s and on top of the heating pad that was slowly warming. The two fell asleep for a while. After an hour and a half, _y/n_ stirred and Aaron asked gently, “Do you need something, y/n_?” Half asleep, _y/n_ said, “Can you start a shower? I feel sweaty on top of feeling icky now.” Aaron nodded and kissed the nape of their neck before slipping out of bed and moving into the bathroom. He turned the knobs in the shower and made sure that the water wasn’t too hot or cold, just a warm steady steam. Hotch noticed a candle on the side of the counter and some matches; he moved and lit the candle which spread the scent of petricor in the space. Aaron moved to the door, and _y/n_ was getting up from the bed. They were turning off the heating pad and stepping toward the door. Aaron moved to give them space, but as _y/n_ got to the door they rather sheepishly asked, “Would you come with me?” Hotch flushed and stuttered a bit before _y/n_ said, “Only if you’re comfortable with it of course. No pressure or anything.” Aaron nodded and finally replied, “Of course, I’ll come with you if you want me to.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I want you with me. I’d feel better.” Given the new scenario, Hotch moved to the side of the door and let _y/n_ into the bathroom with him. Aaron cleared his throat once and asked, “Do you just want me to sit and watch, or do you want me in the shower with you?” _y/n_ began taking off their clothes and replied, “I’d like you in with me.” Hotch nodded along and he also began to strip. This was not how he had imagined them seeing each other naked for the first time, and yet there was a soft intimacy to it. A different kind of comfort to be had in being bare to each other. They both looked over the other’s body before Aaron moved under the flow of water. He extended a hand for _y/n_, and they took it Under the flow of the water, they both stood for a moment. _y/n_ gave him a bit of a smile and said, “Thanks for doing this for me. It feels good to have you here like this.” Aaron nodded and moved forward. He kissed _y/n_ on the mouth and pulled back saying, “I’ll always be here for you _y/n_, like this or any other way you need me. Thank you for letting me be here for you like this.” 
Aaron pulled _y/n_ to his chest, and even though _y/n_ wasn’t binding as they normally did, they didn’t feel discomfort being held like this. They knew Aaron saw beyond their body. That he saw them as they were. When menstruation had first come to _y/n_, they had cried and screamed at the universe for making them this way. They had begged that same universe for a miraculously early menopause, or a hysterectomy. Anything to make the feelings go away. But with Aaron holding them like this, it felt a bit more manageable. Not that it was fun or pleasant, but at least he understood them for who they were. As _y/n_ leaned their head onto his chest, and Aaron snaked his arms around their waist, they took the moment to just be. As the water continued to fall over them, Aaron kissed _y/n_’s forehead. He still had a lot to learn about _y/n_, but he was more aware now and he was ready to learn. He knew he was lucky to have someone as compassionate as _y/n_ to teach him.
28 notes · View notes
blackjackkent · 2 months
Text
Not a particularly challenging fight against the Zhentarim. I'm pretty sure we didn't lose a single Guild fighter! And the most satisfying part was watching Nine-Fingers take Roah from full health to zero in one turn by throwing knives at her. XD
Tumblr media
The conversation with Nine-Fingers afterwards is a bit strained.
Tumblr media
"The Zhent are down. Just you and me now, Stone Lord. So if you mean to take my chair, you'll get no better chance than this."
Tumblr media
"Minsc has no interest in your furniture, Nine-Fingers - only in the wicked rump that fills it!"
Uh oh. It didn't occur to me that a dewormed Minsc might still dislike Nine-Fingers enough to attack her regardless. O.O;
Tumblr media
"...What?" the Guildmaster says, bemused.
Tumblr media
"You have been a stone in this city's boot for too long! And it will be no Stone Lord who reaches 'twixt Balduran's sticky toes to dislodge you. It will be Minsc!"
Tumblr media
Nine-Fingers shoots Hector a baffled look. "I haven't got the slightest idea what he's trying to say."
Tumblr media
"Proof that he is back to normal, no?" Jaheira murmurs dryly.
Tumblr media
Hector reaches out and puts a hand gently on Minsc's arm. "Minsc. Calm down," he says quietly. "The battle is over."
Tumblr media
Nine-Fingers tilts her head curiously. "So the hound answers to his name again, does he?" she says - and the words are more caustic than the tone, which is oddly soft. "And you didn't have to put him down. Good." Her eyes fix on Minsc. "I'd rather you die as Minsc the mad Rashemaar. It's silly, but - d'you know you were something of a hero of mine, when I was young?"
Tumblr media
Minsc's eyes narrow in puzzlement. "Even now your tongue twists the truth," he says. "When you were young and ten-fingered still, Minsc and Boo were stone, enstatuated on a city square!"
She smiles, just a little sadly. "Aye. I remember the spot - by a garden on the Wide. A soft thicket near the market, with ample pockets to pick. Celestia itself to a street rat looking for shelter." She shrugs ruefully. "You might not have been wrestling monsters, but you kept the wind and the rain off. Heroic enough for me."
Minsc clicks his tongue and blinks a few times rapidly, visibly affected by this story. "Bah," he says fiercely. "You try to dampen Boo's eyes! Do not think you will be spared his teeth! Evil is evil, even if it once was... innocent..."
Keene shakes her head. "Oh, I'm no innocent," she says dryly. "But evil... You tell me. With the Fist, the watch, and the Council itself all licking the Absolute's boots, who's the only one left standing to protect Baldur's Gate?"
"She's right, Minsc," Jaheira says quietly from behind him. "She's been an ally down through the years." A pause; she looks at the younger woman thoughtfully and her lips twitch slightly. "A friend, even."
"A *friend*?" Minsc cries, appalled. "Jaheira, Boo cannot believe his ears! Has the city fallen so far in our absence? Are there no heroes left?"
"Heroes come and go," Nine-Fingers says bitterly. "But the Guild has always been here, protecting the city." She gives him a cool glance. "Until the Stone Lord came to break us."
Tumblr media
Hector has listened to this all in silence, trying to gauge the thoughts going on under the surface. He can see Minsc wavering, uncertain, ready to be swayed by the arguments being made to him. And Hector, in fact, believes those arguments are right. However - in every such confrontation in the past, he has leaned in the direction of encouraging his friends to confidence in their own decisions, a holdover from the traditions in which he was raised, which placed such emphasis on self-reliance.
And this is no different - and in fact even more salient than usual. Minsc has struggled, since emerging from his stoney prison, with the idea of his own choices; his dependence on Jaheira's wisdom has been obvious from the get-go.
Hector thinks Minsc will make the right decision - but Minsc must be reminded that it is his decision, and not simply Jaheira's influence directing him.
[INSIGHT] "Well, ranger?" he says quietly. "You cannot always leave it up to your wychlaran. Make a choice."
Behind him, Jaheira makes a scoffing noise of irritation - but Hector did not use the word arbitrarily. He said it deliberately so that Minsc would countermand its usage and thus assert his own agency even while listening to his friends' guidance - and he is not disappointed.
Tumblr media
"Heh. Jaheira says she is no wychlaran," Minsc says with a slight shake of his head. "Perhaps not. But if she says I should not honor, defend, and listen to her, it is the only time she has ever been wrong." He pauses uncertainly. "If she trusts in Nine-Fingers - if you do - then so will Minsc. But that means..."
Tumblr media
He trails off, and an expression of pain rockets across his face. "The things Minsc has done... I am shamed! Nydeshka, unworthy to fight alongside my friends! Boo..." His voice breaks with sudden despair. "What am I do to do?"
Tumblr media
"I can't speak for your rodent," Nine-Fingers says cautiously, "but I know something of debts. If you reckon you've got one to repay, well - we could always work together."
Minsc squints at her. "With you? Minsc has no lust for gold, that he would shake grandmothers by their ankles or set Boo nibbling at their purse-strings."
"I'm not talking about that," she says hastily. "We've both got bigger enemies than one another - the city's enemies. And Tyr's honest truth - you gave my Guild the wakeup call it needed. We've grown complacent, lazy. Too sure of our standing. We never would've needed the Zhent if we'd had a fighting force of our own. Swords for the city, when the watch and Fist fail us."
Minsc blinks, trying to parse this, and then his eyes light up. "Like a berserker lodge of my homeland! No army or militia, serving the local lords, but heroes working for the common good!"
Keene smiles sardonically. "Heroes. Sure."
"Very well," Minsc says eagerly. "Minsc and Boo accept!"
Keene must see something in the Rashemaar's expression that she doesn't like, because she immediately starts to backpedal. "I'm sorry, you-- you what?" she asks.
"Boo and I will be your berserker lodge," Minsc says brightly. "Taking the ugly ways of your Guild and beating them into a more virtuous shape!"
Hector can see the immediate regret blossoming in Nine-Fingers' eyes. "That's... not even slightly what I was saying. I wasn't asking--"
Minsc flinches back, not letting her finish. "You are right," he mutters. "I have proven myself unworthy. I cannot serve the city if I was so easily turned against it. If I do not know my own mind... perhaps I no longer know what is good..."
Tumblr media
This conversation has grown so tangled that Hector is not even sure what outcome he is arguing for anymore. But Minsc's distrust of himself still troubles him more than anything else. "Minsc," he says gently, "I'm fairly sure that 'good' is literally the only thing you *do* know."
Tumblr media
He's relieved to see Minsc relax a little. "My friend... I am touched by your kind words," he says gravely. "And now I must be equal to them." He squares his shoulders. "What say you, Boo? When the Absolute is slain, shall we join Nine-Fingers Keene and show her the ways of goodness?'
Tumblr media
Keene groans. Jaheira grins suddenly, lounging back on her heels. "You did say he was your hero, Astele," she points out dryly. "Maybe you'll learn something."
Tumblr media
Nine-Fingers sighs. "Can't we just go back to killing one another instead?" she asks dryly, then waves a hand dismissively before they can respond. "All right. Fine. Let's leave this particular fight for when the actual war is won, shall we?"
She straightens, hooks her hands behind her back and looks at Hector more seriously. "With the Stone Lord off my back, I'll be able to bring my people out of hiding. Cobble together a force so we're ready when you call on us."
She nods slowly. "You have my thanks." A pause, and then the flash of a grin, indomitable. "Though I'm still not actually sure you haven't made my life that little bit harder."
Probably true, Hector reflects with some amusement as they turn to leave. Should we all survive this mess, I suspect she and Minsc working together will make for quite a show.
12 notes · View notes