#which is kind of why he hates jesse so much. he reminds him of the friend he killed and hes salty about feeling guilt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tbnrpotato · 23 days

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Our Own Choices

Chapter 8

I hate Rex so much. He hasn't let me on any missions for a few weeks now, and I'm somehow getting bored of writing stories and playing call of duty. Actually no, its just writing stories. Haven't been playing much of call of duty since that happened. Reminds me of him too much.

I also practice throwing knives sometimes. I've made a compartment in my armor to house about 20 or so knives, I always hit my mark when I throw them. At least if I'm in close or mid range.

Besides, I usually don't follow Rex's orders anyways, so I've snuck on about 19 missions without his permission.

Fives' death has definitely affected me in worse ways than it should have. I can barely sleep at night, having nightmares of both Fives and Echo's deaths. It's not like Rex notices the dark circles under my eyes anyways, he's been on Anaxes for a while now with the 501st. I wanna go there so badly, just to get some action for once, waiting in the hangar as reinforcements are being sent to Anaxes for a ship that I can get on.

I've been calculating my chances of being spotted getting on a cargo transport that's headed for Anaxes that aren't being checked, and my odds are pretty good.

So when I check that none of the troopers are looking, I run aboard the cargo transport just as the ship door closes and I get ready for a long trip to Anaxes.

In the cargo ship, I check my gear, making sure that some of the modifications that I made to it in my free time were working. My helmet's visor has a setting which allows me to see the heat signatures of people in my line of sight, which is also orange in color and makes my visor orange when using, which I think is really cool. I added an extra grappling hook that's attached to the armor on my wrist as well, because the only way I could sneak onto missions while I was grounded is if I clipped myself to the outside of the republic gunships and went along for the ride.

When I arrive on Anaxes, the door opens and I see some troopers unloading the cargo. It's easy to blend into the darkness of the ship with my armor painted black and all, and when the troopers turn away from a moment I slip out of the ship and see Rex, Jesse, Cody and Kix talking to group of some really tall ass clones. Well at least 75% of them are tall. One of them has dog shit for hair and is almost as short as I am.

I see them getting onto a republic gunship and I run to it, using my grappling hook to attach myself to the side of the gunship where the door is closed, and I enjoy the ride as the ship takes off.

We fly across the reddish terrain that kinda looks like trees but also not really, I can feel the wind against my body, not in my hair cause my helmet's on. I don't even know why I'm coming along for this one, it's literally just instinctive now that when I see a republic gunship with Rex inside I just clip myself to the outside and ride along. Sometimes Rex finds out and happily lets me come along. Yea. Happily. Totally.

It's quite nice out here. Fresh air's so much better than in my room on Coruscant, it doesn't reek of blood that I've had to clean off from my knife a lot, when I accidentally cut myself with it. It's kind of satisfying, sometimes, to just get a small slit on my arm, and watch the blood slowly flow out.

I know, something's definitely wrong with me.

Fives would have really liked this view. Bet he would invite me to get a drink with him after this mission and then play a few rounds of Call of Duty Battle Royale.

And then as I'm lost in my thoughts, quietly pacing back and forth on the side of the ship, the door opens, and I'm hanging in front of the open door, with Rex folding his arms and staring at me.

"Hi," I wave awkwardly at everyone inside the gunship.

"I don't think you wanna be out there if we get shot down. " Rex doesn't sound happy. I roll my eyes from under my helmet and curse under my breath, before swinging into the gunship and retracting my grappling hook. The door closes behind me and the inside of the gunship turns dark with a dim red glow.

"So anyways, who's the old man?" I ask, pointing at the dude I landed next to, receiving a death glare from him. I can see Jesse, Kix and even Rex trying to hold in their laughter, because they know I have a point. The dude's hair is literally grey, and there are FUCKING WRINKLES on his face. Or maybe he's just so thin that his skull decided to become really clear.

"That's...Crosshair," the dude with the dog shit for hair says. "Yea, and I'm betting you're Shithair." I receive an elbow in the side by Rex, and I take that as a warning to stop speaking facts.

Rex pulls me into a corner in the gunship and half-whispers half-demands, "What are you doing here?! I gave you a specific order not to come!" The dude with a receding hairline that's next to me looks at me and then back at his datapad.

"Oh cmon Rex, when have I ever followed orders?" I try to shrug it off. "I'm here now, so it's not like you can throw me off."

"I would very much like to," Rex mumbles under his breath and I hear it, but I don't really care. I move away from Rex and head over to Kix. "Care to give me some introductions on the new guys?"

"That one's Hunter," Kix points at Shithair. "That one's Tech," he points at the dude with the receding hairline. "And that one's Wrecker." He points towards the buff guy. "You ever heard of Clone Force 99, genetically altered clones? Well, here they are."

I think I remember seeing Clone Force 99 back on Kamino, I've tried to sit with them in the cafeteria a few times but I wasn't very successful.

I stand next to Jesse now, he's receiving a really weird look from Crosshair. Ayo, is the old guy simping? I mean, that could be incest-

Anyways.

"What are you looking at?" Jesse asks.

"We don't usually work with rEgS," Crosshair says, flicking a toothpick at Jesse, which bounces off his armor. Crosshair's voice sounds so (Imperial) weird, not like the normal clones. Then again, I can't really blame him. Is that what clones sound like when they grow old? Or was his voice always like that?

"Regs?!" Jesse takes a step towards Crosshair, but is stopped by Hunter (Shithair). "He's talking about regular clones," Hunter explains. "But don't take it personal."

"Well, I guess we know what's his genetic alteration," I say to Kix, doing a head tilt towards Crosshair. "He's a master at being an asshole."

Kix snickers slightly, nodding. "Yea, that's true."

"We're all on the same team, so cut the attitude and listen up," Cody says, and we all turn to him. Toothpick boi crosses his arms as he turns to Cody. I can almost imagine what's going through his mind right now.

Attitude? I'll show you attitude. *Crosses arms like an irritated child*

"Here's the mission. Our target is this Cyber Center," Cody says, showing a hologram of our target. "It's the brains of this entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes."

"I can demolish that with one hand! Yeah!" Wrecker says, and I cringe, putting a hand to my helmet and shaking my head. Force, help me.

"This isn't a demo job, Wrecker," Cody says, and I silently thank him. "It's strictly a retrieval operation."

Retrieval means I get to slice up less droids but still some, as long as Clone Force 99 aka the Bad Batch doesn't steal all the kills.

"Incoming fire," I hear the pilot of the gunship say, and the gunship shakes a bit, we struggle to keep our balance. And then I hear some hits landing on the gunship, and we're starting to decend, and fast.

"We're going down!" Wrecker laughs like an absolute psychopath, and I'm starting to wonder if he's okay.

I feel the side of the gunship crash against a wall, and I instinctively hold onto Rex for balance, but immediately let go when I realize what I'm doing.

It's not a nice landing. We crash on the side of the gunship and some of us are thrown off balance and get up, coughing at the smoke from the flames of the engine. We quickly get out of the gunship and onto the ground, which looks a bit like blue-stained glass.

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs," Wrecker complains, and I shoot a sideways glance at him. "Stop complaining," I roll my eyes. I hate it when they say we're regs, because not all of us are. At least, not me. But I don't wanna reveal it to them yet, or ever, because so far my impression of them is that Crosshair's an asshole and Wrecker's a psychopath.

I hear Kix calling out for someone to help Cody who's trapped under the gunship debris. I wonder what happened to the pilot though. Probably dead.

"I'll get him," Rex runs forward, but is stopped by Hunter.

"Woah woah woah, easy captain. Wrecker, get him out," he says as he moves Rex to the side and we all watch.

"Get back," Wrecker warns, stepping forward.

"This is ridiculous! He's gonna need help to get Cody outta there," Kix says. Crosshair chuckles at bit, smirking. "He's gonna get the gunship outta there, not Cody."

I stare at him for a moment, before turning back to Wrecker, who literally lifts the whole ass thing up and turns it on the other side, freeing Cody. Wrecker carries Cody on his back and walks away from the debris.

"Boom."

Boom indeed. The gunship explodes and I flinch and step back a bit, because I have no interest in getting paralyzed today. Wrecker sets Cody down on the ground as Kix checks on him. Definitely not good. Cody looks like he just got kicked in the balls, really hard.

"He has internal damage," Kix reports. "I can cut the pain, but he needs help fast."

"We all need help," Crosshair says as he looks ahead, and for a moment I think he's saying that we all need mental help, which isn't exactly wrong, but then I look in the direction that he's looking and see a bunch of droids headed towards us.

"That blast gave away our position," Crosshair says.

"I thought getting shot down gave away our position," Hunter argues.

"I think both did," I cross my arms and say from behind.

"Everyone, find cover. We'll hold this position and let them come to us," Rex says.

"I don't think so, Captain. That's not our style. We prefer going to them. Bad Batch, plan 82, "shockwave"," Hunter says, and I'm starting to like these guys already. So I just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Wrecker grabs a piece of metal from the gunship that's literally big enough to cover the 4 of them and they run into the blaster fire, the piece of metal blocking them from getting shot. Then I see one of them throwing a stun grenade and then Crosshair fucking shoots it mid-air, which I gotta admit IS FUCKING AWESOME, and they do it a few more times before splitting up and dealing with the remaining droids.

I run over to Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair. "THAT WAS SO FUCKING COOL BRO," I look at Crosshair, and he just puts a toothpick into his mouth and turns away.

"Aren't you a little short to be a reg?" Tech asks.

"That's none of your business," I say, shooting a glare at him. I still haven't warmed up to them yet, but I wouldn't mind warming up to Crosshair, he's so fucking cool and maybe I could get him to teach me how to shoot a sniper sometime, I'll probably have to bribe him with toothpicks though.

So anyways, Rex and the others start walking ahead and we follow them, I stay at the back and Crosshair seems to be the one who wants to walk behind everyone else, including me.

And here I was thinking that I was gonna be at the back.

We walk for a while, and we decide to set up camp in the forest, it's turning night now. Hunter goes to eat dirt or smth and I sit next to Kix and Jesse.

"So I get what makes the other Batchers unique, but what's so special about Hunter?" Jesse asks.

"He can put up with the other three," Kix replies, and all of us smirk slightly.

"He was engineered with heightened senses. A place like the Cyber Center, Hunter can feel the electromagnetic frequencies from anywhere on the planet," Tech says.

"And here I was thinking we were smart just using a holomap," Jesse nudges me and Kix with his elbow.

"Well, maps can be wrong. Hunter never is."

"So is he eating the dirt or something?" I ask, and Kix and Jesse burst out laughing, I try to keep a straight face under my helmet.

"He is feeling the dirt, not eating it," Tech says, and I roll my eyes. I hear Cody groaning in the corner, he doesn't look so good, and Rex is beside him, telling him to hang in there. Then he stands up. "Listen up. We have to move out."

Crosshair stands up and walks towards Rex. "Commander Cody's in no position to move."

"Already called in evac. Kix will stay with Cody until it arrives. I'm in charge now. And I've got a plan to get into that Cyber Center."

Crosshair takes his toothpick out from his mouth and points it at Rex. "If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?"

Wrecker stands up as well and walks over. And so does Jesse. "You can't talk to Captain Rex like that!"

I roll my eyes from under my helmet, sighing. Can we not do this right now?

"Says who?" Wrecker growls, picking Jesse up by the neck. Rex tries to get Wrecker to put him down while Crosshair puts Kix in a choke hold, and I give him a punch to the face and a kick in the balls for that. Crosshair's definitely not happy as he stumbles back a bit, and he kicks me in the chest, sending me down to the floor, and my helmet falls off.

"Uh guys-" Tech tries to get everyone to calm down.

"Wrecker, drop him. Now," Hunter commands, and we all turn to him as Wrecker drops Jesse onto the ground. "Fellas, cmon! We're all fighting for the same thing, right?"

I take out my vibro-knife and move behind Crosshair, holding the knife to his neck and him in a choke hold from behind.

Hunter sighs. "All right then. Let's cut the chatter and finish what we started. We'll do it your way, Captain. For Commander Cody."

I let go of Crosshair as Rex gives me that "don't make this worse" look, and toothpick boi dusts himself off.

"Okay. Let's gear up and move out," Rex says.

Now that the batch know that I'm a female, there's no point putting on my helmet until we're in battle, so I just carry it under my arm for now. Crosshair and I stay at the back of the group, and he glares down at me, he's like a whole head taller than me, and I glare up at him.

"Didn't expect you to be a female," he says as he puts a toothpick into his mouth.

"Didn't expect you to be addicted to toothpicks. Why not try chewing gum or something? You could get splinters if you chew the toothpicks too hard." I'm being slightly nicer now.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Gum's too soft. Just like you."

I glare at him again before moving in front of him, but not before I knock my shoulder into his, showing my annoyance.

Soon, we all put our helmets on and scan the area, making our way closer to the cyber center, blasters drawn. Hunter raises his hand, motioning for us to stop. I see an outpost over the others' heads, we're probably either gonna take it or go around.

"Not our primary target," Hunter says. "It's an outpost. Should we take it?"

"Probably easier than going around," Rex replies.

"Alright, what're your orders? We pick them off from the tree line one by one?"

"Actually, I was thinking we take a page from your book. Rush them head on."

HELL YEA.

"Heh. I like your style."

So we take some shots at the droids and then we run out from where we were hiding, blasting at the droids. I stab one in the head just before Hunter can, and I smirk at him from under my helmet as we run into the lift, I can feel his annoyance at me stealing his kill.

"Too slow?" I ask, as the lift ascends, and we each face different directions, shooting the droids. I go for melee this time, drawing my sword in one hand and my knife in the other, and I slice up a few droids. Crosshair throws one against the wall and I throw my knife at it, it hits the middle of the droid's head. As Tech blasts the last droid, Wrecker comes up through the lift.

He looks around, blaster ready, but all the droids are already dead. He takes off his helmet. "Is it over already? Aw man!"

We all take off our helmets. "Not bad," Hunter says to Rex. "For a reg."

We head over to the window of the outpost, and look out.

"Well, there it is. The Cyber Center," Rex says.

"It looks like the Cyber Center itself has minimal guards, about 30 droids," Tech says as he does some stuff with the control panels. "Oh, wait, wait. I got a massive signal coming in. A whole platoon of droids is headed this way."

"Someone's noticed our handiwork back at the crash site," Hunter says.

"Yeah. Make sure you keep an eye on those incoming Separatist forces. I wanna know when they reach this outpost. We gotta move swiftly."

"We'll grab some speeder bikes and flank them from the back," Hunter says.

I follow Jesse and Rex and we sneak behind 2 battle droids, tackling them from behind and shooting them down.

We hide behind a tree and look out at the battle droids guarding the cyber center.

"Is everyone in position?" Rex asks.

"Affirmative," I hear Hunter say through the comms, and then Crosshair says the same thing.

"Cap, you wanted to know when those Separatist forces breached the outpost. Well, they're getting there just about now," Tech says through the comms.

Rex, Jesse and I get ready to shoot the droids guarding the entrance. Rex aims and shoots the head off the yellow-headed one, and we all run in, blasting droids left and right. Rex throws a stun grenade at the group of droids, knocking them down, and we take cover behind some crates.

We move forwards, still taking cover and blasting the droids. I can feel the adrenaline rush that I missed so much.

Hunter and Wrecker come out of the doors behind the droids that we're blasting at, taking care of them quickly. We run over to them as a transport comes into view. Definitely carrying more droids.

"Better get in there, Cap," Wrecker says as him, Hunter, Jesse and I wait to blast the droids that will be coming out any second now.

Beams carrying dozens of b2 super battle droids extend out, and the droids drop to the ground and start firing at us. We move to the side a bit, avoiding their blaster fire and firing back. In most cases, I could sneak behind and cut them all in half, but there's too many of them, and I don't feel like dying today.

The battle droids advance and we take cover behind some crates.

"Crosshair, we're gonna need a lift," Hunter says into the comms as the rest of us continue blasting the droids.

"Not gonna be a problem," Crosshair replies through the comms, and suddenly I'm thinking about how he's gonna solo the entire group of battle droids like how those pro snipers do in Call of Duty. Having one on your team is useful, but having one on the opposing team is an absolute nightmare.

The battle droids are getting closer and we retreat into the Cyber Center, still shooting as many droids as we can, and then we reach the room where Rex is in and tell him to go. We run through the hallway and out through the back door, where we're surrounded by a bunch of droids, but we're still blasting at them.

Then a vehicle descends behind us and Crosshair is driving it. We all get in and he drives us outta there.

I climb to the seat behind Crosshair.

"Didn't know you could fly," I say to him as I take off my helmet. "You got any of those toothpicks that I can chew?"

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "No. Go chew your gum." I roll my eyes back at him and sit behind him, turning to Rex.

"Hey Captain, what intel did you get?" I ask him.

"Transmission from Skako Minor. I asked them who it was. They said CT-1409," Rex says, and my eyes widen, but I try to keep my composure.

"Echo..."

"Yea kid. Echo's alive."

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softpine · 10 months

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holy shit that was incredible 🧎 as usual right after reading one of ur posts i'm craving a LOT of bts info. how did u decide who would be the closest to which until dawn character? were there any choices u went back and forth on? how are u so talented? are there any hidden easter eggs? how do u think their relationships would change in the following months?

the edits are beyond stunning, i've been staring at the portraits for so long and i'm gonna reread the whole thing tmrw in case i missed smtn <3

ahhh thank you!!! i'm so happy you liked it 🥺💖

so the thing is, i'm like. wildly hyperfixating on until dawn right now and i decided to platinum the game, which involves replaying it at least 3 times (in my case it took 6 because i'm bad at gaming lol) so i had a ton of time to think about this AU while i was watching the same unskippable cut-scenes over and over. the first thing i thought was "haha i also have a character named matt who's kind of a pushover" and the rest is history :')

characters

Josh = Finn: i knew i couldn't have an actual josh in this case because none of my characters would do exactly what he did, but the core elements of josh are already in finn: he was wronged by the people in his life he trusted the most, he lashes out when he feels strong emotions, and he's really just scared and lonely underneath it all. so then i thought, what if josh's fake ghost antics were an actual ghost? and who's better for that role than finn? however, his parents are definitely not rich, so the lodge couldn't belong to his family. that's why i decided to make it a larger hunting lodge where all kinds of hunters would come together. also did you notice how i didn't even tell you who killed finn in the AU because no spoilers :P

Sam = Asa: i actually don't care for sam tbh but she's the obvious leader of the group, the level-headed one, the angel on your shoulder. asa can be impulsive at times (especially in regards to finn) but he's still the person i would choose to be at my my side during a crisis. his parents are the only ones with money, so it makes sense for danny to purchase the lodge without visiting it himself. sam is also compassionate to josh and has somewhat of a romantic thing going on with him if you read it that way, so that fits for asa and finn.

Jessica = Elaine: jess (best girl!!!!!) is the first person with the possibility of dying, and her death/injury is the catalyst for multiple characters future decisions, so her equivalent had to be someone who's also strongly connected to numerous others. so elaine is perfect! she's also the only person of my group who i can imagine storming outside in the snow in her underwear to give her friends a piece of her mind fjskjds but she also has enough strength of character & resilience to make it realistic that she might survive so many injuries.

Mike = Austin: this felt like a no-brainer because austin already has knowledge about guns, he's fearless, and if elaine got hurt, austin would go fucking ballistic. he stops caring about his own survival and starts making brash, unwise choices. but that's where the similarities end, because i actually really hate mike and i feel bad comparing austin to him lmao. say what you will about austin, but he would never try to talk his way into having sex with a girl who literally says "i'm just not feeling it". i hate mike 😒

Chris = Stevie: now hear me out!! at first glance you might think stevie would be ashley. they cry a lot, they look to others for guidance, and they even look alike. but stevie strikes me as much more of a chris type, being that chris was never meant to be the hero. he's a goofy nerd who tells jokes when he's nervous and screams his head off any time he has to do something brave. and that's exactly what stevie's role in this AU is. despite her nature, she's making brave decisions for the benefit of her friends. (but this pic did remind me of ashley)

Matt = Matt: he's kinda just..... here. he cracks some jokes, he can either diffuse or encourage arguments, he plays second fiddle to his girlfriend most of the time. he tries to be the hero but fails miserably. but he has a good heart and he almost never does anything controversial.

Alisa = Ashley: alisa is WAY less outwardly emotional than ashley, but she has the same chaotic, contradictory nature. she cares about people, but she's also capable of coldly letting others die to save herself. she's good at making others feel protective of her even if she doesn't need protecting. she's VERY curious.

Jada = Emily: listen emily just doesn't fit with any of my characters even though i love her so much. but jada does share her determination in the face of fear, her will to survive at any cost, and the way she has the capability to soften up and be really sweet under the right circumstances. they're both much more resourceful and capable than you would initially think. but jada is more likely to follow others' guidance than make plans herself.

other stuff!

for the safe room scene, i thought it would be more interesting if it was the archetypal heroic boyfriend who was bitten and the archetypal damsel in distress who holds his fate in her hands. but there is no way in hell that austin would just sit there and let someone shoot him. when he takes alisa hostage, it almost makes it easier to shoot him; if he were pleading for his life, jada would never pull the trigger, no matter how much alisa told her to. but since he puts himself in the position of the aggressor (the exact thing they feared he would do) it becomes a more believable dilemma. of course, we learn later that the bite is not infectious and austin never would've turned, but none of them know that yet. even austin doesn't know. this scene in the game is extremely horrifying to me so i hope i did it justice in my AU too!

i said this in the replies too, but: the playthrough i envisioned with the stats and pictures makes these major choices: elaine initially survives the mine, matt dies by the rope, stevie's leg is fine, jada shoots austin (why she's covered in blood in her portrait), jada & alisa die in the explosion, stevie rescues elaine, and finn saves asa!

imagine the lantern is doing this shit the whole time LMAOO

the swiss army knife in my AU basically has the same function as the flare gun in until dawn. if matt doesn't have it, he'll die. but if emily doesn't have it, she'll only be bitten. but getting the flare gun into the right hands is sooo convoluted so i had to simplify it for our purposes.

butterfly effects

i didn't include these because i was trying to keep things brief, but here's some of the other ideas i had:

if elaine & austin's relationship drops too low before they arrive at the guest cabin, then elaine won't kiss him and will go outside to look for her phone against his wishes. that's where she would be taken by the creature instead.

if jada and alisa don't find enough clues about finn's disappearance, then they will not recognize finn when they find his remains. this makes finn less likely to protect them later in the night.

if jada shot austin and her relationship with alisa is HIGH, then alisa will give herself injuries on her face to help corroborate their self defense story. if jada shot austin and her relationship with alisa is LOW, then alisa will be fascinated and say "i didn't know you had it in you..." but will not offer to corroborate the story. in both scenarios, alisa will then say she doesn't want to sit around with austin's body. jada will have the option of leaving with alisa or staying inside the safe room. jada can say no (alisa might survive, jada dies), or yes (they both might survive). or if they have a high relationship, she can convince alisa to stay too (they both die).

if matt survives the attack in the mines, then stevie's leg will be injured because she didn't have the knife, meaning she arrives much later to rescue elaine/matt. so if elaine is still alive, matt can find her in the mines and they have a conversation. they will both be impressed by each other's survival, and elaine will feel bad that matt is only in the mines because of her. she asks where austin is, but matt has no idea. then stevie shows up and the rest plays out as described!

after dawn

so obviously their relationships would vary wildly depending on who survives and what choices they made to get there.

in an everyone survives playthrough, austin and elaine would break up soon after the events of the game. if you notice, elaine's perception of austin went down a lot because austin didn't try to save her after she fell down the elevator. she felt abandoned by him when he was the most physically capable & experienced person who could have saved her, but instead it was her injured best friend who never gave up on her. so they're done lol. stevie and matt would break up amicably (for reasons unrelated to the night in question) and remain friends, because how could they not? as for alisa, she doesn't talk to any of them anymore. she was only ever close with jada in the first place, but after jada refused to shoot austin, she lost all trust in her. after finn's remains are found, his spirit is no longer chained to the lodge and he's able to join asa at home. this version of finn is like a normal ghost in that he can appear to anyone he wants. he becomes close friends with all of asa's friends, especially stevie. and then... a few years later... a family called the washingtons purchases the property for their kids (josh, beth, and hannah) to throw parties in. just kidding sjfkjsd sole survivor playthrough: with the outline i laid out, there's actually no way for each of them to be the sole survivor because i had to cut so much out for brevity (i know it doesn't seem like it lol). but it's possible for asa, stevie, elaine, or matt to be sole survivors. the most heartbreaking is probably stevie, who would've had to see matt's decapitated head, heard the lodge blow up with asa, jada, alisa, and austin inside, then watch elaine die right in front of her. so that's super fucked and i don't want to think about that anymore!! asa being the sole survivor makes the most sense logically, because he has finn to protect him for most of it. elaine or matt being the sole survivor would be if one of them dies early in the game and then stevie dies trying to help elaine/matt escape. in any case, i don't think all the therapy in the world could cure that amount of survivor's guilt... everyone dies playthrough: the group become ghosts who haunt the mountain. finn's body is never recovered because no one is alive to report it to the police, so he is never at peace either. danny still owns the property, so he destroys the cable car and builds a giant electrified fence so that, hopefully, no human will ever return to the cursed mountain. i can't even / don't want to imagine how any of their parents would be able to move on after such a tragedy, it makes me genuinely sad to think about :( everybody dies playthroughs are all fun and games until you think about what comes after 😭

ANYWAY THAT'S ALL!! thank you so much for indulging my frankly rabid brain fjskdjs i know i keep saying it, but until dawn is my most confusing obsession because i first played the game in 2015 and i wasn't a fan; i thought the characters were annoying and the gameplay was lacking. but a few months ago i randomly decided to watch a playthrough of the quarry and that made me want to give until dawn another chance, and now...... yeah. idk what happened here but now it's all i can think about lmao. but being able to talk about the game with other people is sooo fun and i'm really happy i did this!! 💖

#flashing tw #minamill #asks #nonsims #brandi answers

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lfcthelovesofmylife · 2 years

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My Opinions on the England NT players

Luke Shaw -

literally looks like he’s 15 and 35 at the same time in some pictures. To this day I don’t know how old he actually is. Have not seen him play a single Man U match this season (i don’t like Man U so i don’t watch their matches but still). Does he still play football? I don’t know. Good goal against Italy so i have to give him some praise for that but i genuinely don’t know anything about him.

Mason Mount -

I cannot lie, I think I fell in love with him the moment I saw him. If love at first sight exists I think this is it. I would do anything for this man. He looks like he’d sit with you on a bench in your school gym and let you cry on his shoulder (defo not based on real life experiences). What more can I say about him? I would burn the world down for him and then jump off of a cliff if he asked me to. 10/10 especially after missing his pen in the FA cup final. He did that for me xx

Trent Alexander-Arnold -

Also the sexiest mf I’ve ever seen. Assist king. He seems like a bitch sometimes but I still love him. Does look like if you were nice to him he’d be nice back. Very proud of his achievements. Do just want to find him and give him a massive hug sometimes. I like the new haircut much more. It’s grown on me, he better not change it or some sorry words will be said. Hope he gets picked for the next England matches but I don’t want him to get injured because I’m not mentally stable enough to deal with that.

Tyrone Mings -

Literally the height of a fucking tree. He’d absolutely destroy me and my five foot two self with just a push. Quite scared of him but at the same time he looks like he’d invite me in for a cuppa and a few biscuits if I was walking past his house in the pouring rain. Probably has a kind soul but I wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of him.

Kyle Walker -

Kind of reminds me of a pigeon. I don’t know why, he just seems to have that familiar blank stare. Looks like he’d bark at you for stealing his sandwich in Tesco’s which he never actually bought. Do find him quite funny but that might just be when he’s with John. Overall I wouldn't particularly want to be besties with him.

Jesse Lingard -

Absolute icon. JLingz. Has the most adorable daughter, she’s so precious. Easily one of the funniest players in the game. I can already tell we’d be best friends. Especially love him after the reports that he got into a scrap with Hazza Maguire. Deserves the world. I hope I get to meet him one day.

Marcus Rashford -

Looks like a kind man. Don’t know if we’d get along because we’d fight over who’s Jesse’s better friend. Can already tell he’d try and make me a home-cooked meal if I ever said I was hungry. Would no doubt constantly try to give me food. I’d have to convince him he’s actually a good footballer because Ralf never plays him in matches. Looks like he’d get very emotional sometimes.

Jack Greasy…I mean Grealish -

Don’t like him because he’s a bit of a bellend but I have to admit he’s extremely funny. Doesn’t seem like he has a single brain cell left so it would probably be very difficult to have an actual conversation with him. I salute his girlfriend for putting up with him. I could probably drive better than him. I don’t have my driver’s licence.

Hazza Maguire -

Absolutely terrified of him. Would probably tell me to go back to my own country. If I saw him begin to walk towards me I’d run the other way. He’d try and fight me because I’d tell him he’s a shit footballer. Nothing more to say. Traumatises me just thinking about it.

Jude Bellingham -

Absolute sweetheart in my opinion. Looks like he’d protect you from all those creepy guys at a house party or club. Would definitely cover your drink if you had to go somewhere for a quick second. Seems like a lovely guy. Want to see more of his personality on the England youtube channel.

Jordan Pickford -

Hate him but at the same time I love him. He’s so funny and for what. Suddenly manages to bring out all the skills for England but he’s horrendous for Everton. Might just be because it’s Everton. I do want to punch him sometimes. Wouldn’t be surprised if someone from the team already has.

Phil Foden -

Looks like a prick. He always looks like he’s going to complain about something. Would not be able to stand the guy for a single second. He just looks annoying. I see him on my tv and immediately change the channel. Every time I see his face I want to punch it.

Jordan Henderson-

DILF. He is the definition of a gentleman. Looks like he’d hold the door open for you if he saw you walking down the corridor. Just seems like the best person to work with. Has an absolute heart of gold. Would sell my soul for him 100%. The best captain in the Premier League. In my opinion he should be captain of England but Gareth doesn’t like Liverpool players. I know he’d give me a whole motivational speech if I told him I was going to give up on my education. He’d 110% hold you in his arms while you cried for a whole hour.

Ben Chilwell -

Looks a bit like a Lego man. He has a very square head and I don’t know how to feel about it. He has some of the stupidest tattoos I’ve ever seen but in all fairness he’s a good player. Just don’t support some of the things he’s done (but I won’t go into that). Does look like a massive weirdo. Would probably be a bit scared of him when he’s drunk.

Raheem Sterling -

Runs a bit like a dinosaur. Very good player just don’t like the fact he left Liverpool for City. The only good thing about that is the fact that he’s managed to get a decent trim now. Arguably one of the best players in the England squad but i’m still holding a grudge against him.

Hazza Kane -

Looks like he might call me a racial slur. I would 100% be able to absolutely hammer him in a fight. Don’t really like him at all. How are you captain of your national team if you can’t even be captain of Spurs. SPURS. It’s just a bit embarrassing on his behalf.

Reece James -

As I said previously, he looks like he’d absolutely batter you in a fight but he’d also give you a really good hug if you were sad. Reminds me of a teddy bear. Seems like he’d have a bit of a short temper, but as long as you were his friend you wouldn’t be in danger. If you weren’t, good luck to you (RIP).

Jadon Sancho -

Proper joke man. Again, I’d be best friends with him because I think we have a very similar sense of humour. Would no doubt annoy every single member of the team. We’d be banned from seeing each other because we’re too annoying together. Is he okay? I haven’t seen him play in a long time.

Declan Rice -

My boyfriend’s best friend. We’d also be best friends. There are too many funny players in this squad, but this guy is my absolute favourite of them all. His rendition of ‘Ice, Ice, Baby’ brought tears to my eyes. Should be the new national anthem. Extremely happy he’s got a much better trim now. Does need a bit of a tan though, he looks ghostly white sometimes. He should ask Mason where the best tanning beds are.

Kalvin Phillips and Kieran Trippier -

Had to put these two together because I genuinely have no opinion of them. Literally who are they.

Bukayo Saka -

Looks like such a nice guy. The type of guy you’d bring home to meet your parents. Would offer you popcorn if he saw you around, and would always ask how you’re doing and actually mean it. Wins the award for ‘Nicest Guy’. Don’t understand how anyone could not like him. Would probably cry with you while you’re crying.

John Stones -

Perfect name for him tbh. Looks like he’s stoned half the time. He’d probably punch the Hazza’s for calling you a racial slur. Would be the best person to get drunk with, he’d probably try and give you (really bad) relationship advice and then convince you to sing Valerie by Amy Winehouse with him. Overall a decent guy, only downside is that he plays for City.

#mason mount #trent alexander arnold #declan rice #bukayo saka #jesse lingard #marcus rashford #john stones #jordan henderson #tyrone mings #jadon sancho #jude bellingham #mason mount imagine #trent alexander arnold imagine #declan rice imagine #marcus rashford imagine #john stones imagine #keira's random writing x

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spamgyu · 2 months

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you see im dk biased and this man comes out looking like that and now i cant control my emotions anymore, if i was going feral over hoshi im dead after seeing dk. at the same time i need to put the fact out there which noone addresses and its last year milan pic of dk and i am a bit bummed about the fact that everyone compares it to aurthur when it obviously gives modern day jon snow from game of thrones. so here i am seeking for opinion from the most hyped up fashion girly ever

AH okay i...... ngl i hated his outfit last fashion week 🫤

I get what they were trying to do (which was probs mix all aspects of the FW23 RTW collection into one outfit) but the reasons why I hated it

Didn't match his features. He has soft kind eyes and just an over all softer/minimalist look to his facial features and they put him in loud clothes. Like from the neck down it just didnt look good! Not only was it textured bc of the jacket collar but the printed shirt was so loud it was too busy 🫤.

Outfit was poorly executed (not his fault it was the stylist) Like the jacket was quilted with sherpa and then the pants had a white color block??! and the god awful shirt i... yeah no. It was too much ....

This FW tho..... hot damn......

Just proves that less is more like...

like come on look how gorgeous he looks and how well it fits his frame and features. It's not his usual look but it also doesn't feel forced. He looks confident.

I know people expect fashion week to be the GRAND event (and it is to an extent) and think people will show up looking like they would be attending the METGala but most of those who are invited dress within the brands over all look/identity and this is very Bally.

Also he literally reminds me of Uncle Jesse from Full House here and i 🤕🤒🥰

#thank u for attending my ted talk ☝🏼😔#love talking about fashion hehehehhe 🤧🤭#spamasks

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poppletonink · 2 years

Text

An Analysis of the IKSW Characters

First of all, if you haven’t read I Kissed Shara Wheeler yet, I would recommend skipping this one, as this contains an immense number of spoilers. Now with that out of the way, let’s dive in, shall we?...

Every character in I Kissed Shara Wheeler is different. The cast is diverse, and each character teaches the readers important life lessons about numerous topics.

Chloe Green

“She’s gay, Your Honour.”

Chloe (who is incredibly similar to Paris Geller from Gilmore Girls) is the world’s most perfect example of a bisexual who has a general dislike of most other people. She’s a theatre nerd and a perfectionist – especially when it comes to her grades and her eyeliner. And she’s also quite probably the most determined character in the entire novel, with her never-ending drive to find Shara and to win valedictorian (this is mostly like the reason that she reminds of the song ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Marina). Chloe hates False Beach, and her high school, constantly finding little ways to rebel against the school dress code so that she can control why people look at her. She’s also the only openly queer girl in their school, just like her mom was. Chloe is important because she teaches readers not to give up – not when there’s something worth fighting against or for.

Shara Wheeler

“You’re like the girl… You know everyone is scared of Chloe Green, right?”

Shara Wheeler is like the perfect combination of Alison DiLaurentis from Pretty Little Liars and Rory Gilmore from Gilmore Girls; she’s also the epitome of the song ‘Little Miss Perfect’ by Write Out Loud. She starts out as the town’s perfect girl, who everyone aspires to be like, perfectly representing what God would want out of someone, but as the story goes on you see more and more cracks in her flawless façade. Shara is the reason that Chloe learns the difference between nice and kind, because Shara is not nice, but she is kind. She also cares about things too much, and when she does, she throws them away, because she doesn’t want people to know just how much she cares. She can read people like a book (or everyone apart from herself, apparently) which is how she manages to plant her clues in a manipulative scheme to control the people around her. Shara Wheeler is far from perfect, but she’s interesting, which in the same way as Georgia describes Emma from the classic Jane Austen novel, is what makes her a good character.

Smith Parker

“Because I feel bad doing all that to a frog… Like, I don’t know how he died! What if he had a family? What if he had like, dreams? What if he never got to finish Breaking Bad?”

Smith’s character (who for some reason reminds me of Cooper Clay from One of Us is Lying) is incredibly interesting. First of all, he’s a jock who is actually nice – something that is rarely seen in fiction. And secondly, I was not expecting his side plot to do with his gender identity (though I definitely called the Rory related side plot). Smith is interesting because he’s not what you usually see of a genderqueer character. It seems like he’s somewhere on the non-binary spectrum (using his letterman jacket as a coping method for his gender dysphoria) but he still chooses to use he/him pronouns. He likes football, but he also has a Sailor Moon collection, and he likes putting flowers in his hair and wearing makeup. Smith Parker is a character the world needed to see, because he proves that not all genderqueer people are the same.

Rory Heron

“For legal reasons, I’m joking.”

Rory Heron is amazing. He thoroughly reminds me of Jess Mariano from Gilmore Girls (though Casey McQuiston has previously stated on Twitter about their likeness) because he likes poetry – even though he’s dyslexic – but hates school and usually skives, plus the fact that he’s done some illegal stuff that everyone just casually ignores. He’s brutally honest, but he’s also really romantic – the fact that he flooded the labs just so Smith didn’t have to dissect the frogs, even though they weren’t talking to each other at the time, is just adorable (and the fact that he writes songs about him). Plus, the way he figures out that he’s gay (which I knew was coming ever since Ace’s comment about Mr. Brightside at Dixon’s party) was just brilliant, because it shows how a lot of people are conditioned to automatically think that they’re straight even if they later discover that they aren’t.

Georgia

“Chloe, we’re gay. We can’t do math.”

Georgia’s character felt so important to the story, because though she was a side character she teaches Chloe – and the readers – a lot. Her relationship with Summer teaches everyone that religion and queerness can work together – you can be both religious and queer. Not only is she important from a moral-of-the-story perspective, but she also has some of the funniest lines in the entire novel, and the way she views Emma by Jane Austen, can help to get the reader to see just how good Shara’s character is. Georgia is loyal, and a good friend and daughter – even giving up going to NYU with Chloe in order to help her parents with Belltower Books. She also sheds some much-needed light on the fact that just because Chloe hates False Beach, and just because it needs to change, doesn’t mean that it’s all bad, really.

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kahin · 9 months

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so now that i effectively watched atsv and was left shell shocked. i just thought it was a movie thing like "tbc" ohh its a cutscene haha What the movies actually over. uhmm the plot was maybe lacking a bit but i get that its a two-part so no comment there. i should say i yelled when i saw jess drew because what do you mean there is a pregnant spider-woman on a MOTORBIKE doing cool tricks. i had to stop myself from going "oh yeah jess drew is so cool and awesome haha" like every two seconds. i hope i get to see more of malala windsor too tbh... {hijabi spiderman}. the spot was such a silly guy and i kind of understand that IS how you're meant to view him n it also sorta reminds me how in itsv no one took miles seriously as spiderman they all insisted that THEY were the ones who'd do the job and stay behind. n it sorta loops back a bit as well cz in itsv they kept goin "hes just a kid" and in atsv when peter keeps going "kid" he goes "stop calling me that" before escaping.

miguel. ohohohho what is up with him. i cant even get into this guys head i cant even say anything. hes chasing down a 15 year old and was abt to kill him in that fucking go home machine Bless margo 4 not doing anything wi that system reboot because. uhm. 💀

prowler aaron-42 had me sort of shaking because he was about ot kill miles-1610 like 3an jad "like no i dont want to be a good person" tekram 3aynak sidi o7 any other orders. 42-miles and 1610-miles switching circumstances is a cool little thing to note too. the spider that bit miles-1610 was from d-42 meaning that prowler miles in 42 was supposed to be spiderman. which kind of explains too why jeff is dead in 42 as opposed to . well. aaron. also rio in 42 has lighter eyes than 1610. the scene where our miles was like pouring his heart out to her and she doesnt even believe him left me like

[ID: a 3D emoji turning to look at the viewer with a haunted expression. It is in complete darkness and light illuminates part of the expression and the right hand. end ID.]

hobie was so real also the entire movie cz during the "kid listen" scene i talked abt earlier he started motioning with his palms. i also had to stop myself from going "YOOO ITS HOBIE HEY GUYS LOOK HAVE OYU SEEN THIS"

anyway i dont get why you guys hated jess drew or margo kess. jess did barely anything except maybe be a TAD BIT harsh on gwen but she didnt. even lay a hand on miles meanwhile miguel was about to kill him like genuinely kill him probably at multiple times. margo i dont get the hate against her too i think it . listen im going to come up with a theory.... it might be antiblack racism.

i also rlly liked pavitr but the chai tea thing sends shivers up my spine because i know if i check his tag that'll be all i see. the moment he went "chai TEA?" i just went "yeah he sealed his fate forever. im so sorry pavitr this movie's first indian spider-man and they're gonna treat you badly. the fact they gave him like 100 or so unique signatures makes so much sense his moveset is so rad bro

In conclusion. uhm. MISSION STATUS: SICKK

#fisher's trek!

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thimbil · 3 years

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Having some thoughts about the references and inspirations used for the Bad Batch’s designs.

So Boba Fett is my absolute favorite character and Temeura Morrison was perfect casting. I went to see the 2008 TCW movie in theaters because I was so excited to see him again, even if he was animated. You can imagine my disappointment. Whoever was on screen was not Temeura Morrison. You could sort of see a resemblance if you squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. They replaced Temeura with Racially Ambiguous G.I. Joe. If I didn’t know better and someone told me the animated clones are space Italians from the moon of New Jersey I would buy it. One Million Brothers Pizzeria and Italian Bistro. Not that there’s something wrong with being space Italian, I just don’t think it’s the right choice for the Fetts. The design got slightly improved by season 7 but it still bugs the hell out of me.

I did eventually get into the show later and (of course) got invested in the clones. Unfortunately, they were largely sidelined by the Jedi storylines. Out of the two new main characters created for TCW, Ahsoka definitely got more development and focus than Rex. When they announced The Bad Batch, I was excited to see a show specifically devoted to the clones… at least that’s what it said on the tin. We have all seen what lurks beneath those stylish helmets.

Jango Fett, you are NOT the father.

So who is?

Based on interviews with Filoni, it sounds like the Bad Batch was a George Lucas idea. And like all his ideas, it’s super derivative. The original trilogy directly lifted elements from sci fi serials, westerns, and samurai movies, more specifically Kurosawa films like The Hidden Fortress. For The Bad Batch character designs, the influence is obviously American action and adventure movies.

Now let’s get specific. Bad Batch, who’s your daddy?

Hunter

Sylvester Stallone as Rambo in First Blood 1982. That bandana has become an integral part of the iconic action hero look. You see a character wearing one and it’s a visual shorthand for either “this character is a tough guy” like Billy played by Sonny Landham in Predator 1987, or “this character thinks he is/wants to be a tough guy” like Brand played by Josh Brolin in The Goonies 1985 or Edward Frog played by Corey Feldman in The Lost Boys 1987.

Hunter’s model is closest to the original clone base. If you look closely you will see the eyebrows are straighter with a much lower angle to the arch. His nose is also not the same shape as a standard clone like Rex, including a narrower bridge. It’s certainly not Temeura Morrison’s nose. Remember what I said about space Italians? It didn’t take much to push the existing clone design to resemble an specific Italian man instead of a specific Māori man. The 23&Me came back, and Hunter inherited more than the bandana from Sylvester.

Crosshair

The long narrow nose, the sharp cheekbones, the scowl. That’s no clone, that’s just animated Clint Eastwood. Not even Young and Hot Clint Eastwood from Rawhide 1959-1965. With that hair, I’m talking Gran Torino 2008. The man of few words schtick and family friendly toothpick in lieu of cigar are pure Eastwood as The Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns A Fist Full of Dollars 1964, For a Few Dollars More 1965, and The Good the Bad and the Ugly 1966.

In a way, this is full circle because the actor Jeremy Bulloch took inspiration from Clint Eastwood for his performance as Boba Fett in ESB.

Wrecker

In an interview Filoni lists the Hulk as an (obvious) inspiration for Wrecker. Ever seen the old Hulk tv show from 1978? Well take a look at the actor who played him, Lou Ferrigno. Would you look at that. Even has his papa’s nose.

You could make the argument that Wrecker was influenced by The Rock, an appropriately buff ‘n bald Polynesian (Samoan, not Maori) man. But look at him next his Fast and Furious costar Vin Diesel and tell me which one resembles Wrecker’s character model more.

Tech

Tech is a little trickier for me to place. If he has a more direct inspiration it must be something I haven’t seen. That said, his hairline is very Bruce Willis as John McClane in Die Hard 1988. His quippiness and large glasses remind me of Shane Black as Hawkins from Predator 1987. In terms of his face, he looks a but like the result of McClane and Hawkins deciding to settle down and start a family. Although, Tech’s biggest contributors are probably just everyone on TV Trope’s list for Smart People Wear Glasses.

And finally,

Echo

Oh Echo. Considering he wasn’t created for the Bad Batch, he probably wasn’t based on a particular character or movie. But if I had to guess, his situation and appearance remind me a lot of Alex Murphy played by Peter Weller in Robocop 1987. However, Robocop explored the Man or Machine Identity Crisis with more nuance, depth, and dignity. Yikes.

The exact tropes and references used in The Bad Batch have been done successfully with characters who aren’t even human. Gizmo from Gremlins 2: The New Batch 1990 had a brief stint with the Rambo bandana. I could have picked any number of characters for Defining Feature Is Glasses but here is the most cursed version of Simon of Alvin and the Chipmunks. Suffer as I have. Marc Antony with his beloved Pussyfoot from Looney Tunes has the same tough guy with a soft center vibe as Wrecker and his Lula (also a kind of cat). Hell, in the same show we have Cad Bane sharing Cowboy Clint Eastwood with Crosshair. I actually think Bane makes a better Eastwood which is wild considering Crosshair has Eastwood’s entire face and Bane is blue.

So we’ve established you don’t need your characters to look exactly like their inspirations to match their vibe. So why go through the trouble and cost of creating completely new character designs instead of recycling and altering assets they already had on hand? Just slap on a bandana, toothpick, goggles, and make Wrecker bigger than the others while he does a Hulk pose and you’re done. Based on the general reaction to Howzer it would have been a low effort slam dunk crowd pleaser.

But they didn’t do that.

So here’s the thing. I like the tropes used in The Bad Batch. I am a fan of action adventure movies from the 80s-90s, the sillier the better. I am part of the Bad Batch’s target audience. Considering what I know about Disney and Lucasfilm, I went in with low expectations. I genuinely don’t hate the idea of seeing references to these actors and media in The Bad Batch. I don’t think basing these characters on tropes was a bad idea. If anything it’s a solid starting point for building the characters.

The trouble is nothing got built on the foundation. The plot is directionless, the pacing is wacky, and the characters have nearly no emotional depth or defining character arcs. They just sort of exist without reacting much while the story happens around them. But I can excuse all of that. You don’t stay a fan of Star Wars as long as I have not being able to cherrypick and fill in the gaps. This show has a deeper issue that shouldn’t be ignored.

Why do the animated clones bear at best only a passing resemblance to their live action actor? In interviews, Filoni wouldn’t shut up but the technological advancements in the animation for season 7. So if they are updating things, why not try to make the clones a closer match to their source material? Why did they have to look like completely different people in The Bad Batch to be “unique”? Looking like Temeura Morrison would have no bearing on their special abilities and TCW proved you can have identical looking characters and still have them be distinct. In fact, that’s a powerful theme and the source of tragedy for the clones’ narrative overall.

Here’s Filoni’s early concept art of Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter. (Interesting but irrelevant: Wrecker seems to have a cog tattoo similar to Jesse’s instead of a scar. Wouldn’t it have been funny if they kept that so when they met in season 7 one if them could say something like “Hey we’re twins!” That’s a little clone humor. Just for you guys 😘)

None of these drawings look like the clones in TCW, much less Temeura Morrison. Let’s be generous. Maybe Filoni struggles with drawing a real person’s likeness, as many people do. But he had to hand this off to other artists down the line whose job specifically involves making a stylized character resemble their actor. Yet the final designs missed the mark almost as much as this initial concept. Starting to seem as if the clones looking more like Temeura Morrison was never even on the table. It wasn’t a lack of creativity, skill or technical limitations on the part of the creative team. I don’t think there is an innocent explanation. They went out of their way to make the final product exactly how we got it.

This goes beyond homage. They could have made the same pop culture references and character tropes without completely stripping Temeura Morrison from the role he originated. It was a very purposeful choice to replace him with more immediately familiar actors from established franchises and films. It wouldn’t shock me if Filoni, Lucas, and anyone else calling the shots didn’t even think hard or care enough about the decision to immediately recognize a problem. And I don’t think they believed anyone else would either. At least no one whose opinion they cared about. Those faces are comfortingly familiar and proven bankable. They are what we’re all used to seeing after all. They’re white.

Lack of imagination, bad intentions, or simple ignorance doesn’t really matter in the end. The result is the same. Call it what it is. They replaced a man of color with a bunch of white guys. That’s by the book garden variety run of the mill whitewashing. There’s no debate worth having about it. For a fanbase that loves to nitpick things like whether or not it’s in character for Han to shoot first or Jeans Guy in the Mandalorian, we sure are quick to find excuses for clones who look nothing like their template. Why is that? If you don’t see the problem, congratulations. Your ass is showing. Pull your jeans up.

#star wars #the bad batch #unwhitewashtbb #wrecker #crosshair #tech #hunter #echo

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

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Idk if the prompts are supposed to be dialogue, and if so feel free to ignore this but maybe

But to his surprise it wasn’t the BAU, it was Spencer. Unlike being called in for work, Spencer calling was unusual. He hated the phone.

"Reid?" Aaron answers. "Spencer?"

"H-hotch?" The connection is crackly and Spencer's voice sounds strange.

"Spencer, are you okay? It's..." He glances at the clock on his night stand. "Four-thirty in the morning."

"Oh, god," Spencer groans. "I'm so sorry, Hotch. I didn't know, I didn't-- I didn't think. I'm sorry. You should go back to bed, or else Jack is going to wake up, and--"

"Whoa, hey, slow down," Aaron cuts him off. "Everything's okay. Jack's not even here tonight. What's going on? Where are you?"

"I, um..." There's a pause. "I don't know, hold on."

"Wait," Aaron says. "Do you need me to come get you?"

"Could you?" Spencer asks in a tiny voice.

"Yes. Just send me the location of your phone, and then stay where you are, okay?"

"Okay."

Forty minutes later, Aaron sees Spencer standing on a sidewalk, exactly where his phone said he would be. He pulls over and Spencer gets in. He's wearing plaid pajama bottoms and sweatshirt, and both look way too big for him.

"Hi," Aaron says, when Spencer is buckled in.

"Hi," Spencer says. He doesn't look at Aaron.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer sighs. "I, um, let Morgan convince me to go out with him after work," he says slowly. "And after a few hours and a few drinks, Morgan met someone he wanted to take home. He didn't want to leave me alone, but I had been talking to someone, too. So I decided to, uh, go home with them?"

"Okay," Aaron says. "And then?"

"I went back to their house with them, and we just watched a movie and then went to the, um, bedroom..." Spencer covers his face with his hands. "And he-- uh, they wanted to-- to h-handcuff me to the bed. And they sort of started doing that w-without asking or telling me first..."

He curls toward the window, away from Aaron.

"Did it... remind you of something?" Aaron asks quietly.

"It was the metal on my skin. I just-- It's like that's all I could focus on, and I wasn't really even restrained but I felt like I was, like I was on the chair in that shack, and--"

He stops and takes a deep breath.

"He obviously noticed something was wrong because he unlocked me, and I couldn't think right, I just had to get out. So I grabbed the first clothes I saw, which aren't even mine, and my phone, and I just started running. I can't stop thinking about it, about the gun and the grave and the d-drugs..." He starts to cry.

"Shh," Aaron says softly. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

"I feel so s-stupid," Spencer sobs. "And embarrassed, and-- and scared."

"Can I bring you to my place, Spencer?" Aaron asks. "We have tomorrow off, Jess has Jack, and I don't love the idea of leaving you alone at home right now."

"Okay," Spencer mumbles.

When they get to Aaron's, he gets Spencer a cup of tea and a blanket and sits him on the couch.

"Tell me what else you need right now," he says.

"Could I, um..." Spencer cringes. "Could I borrow some clothes? I just-- I kind of stole these, and--"

"Of course," Aaron says. "Why don't you take a shower, warm up a little, and I'll grab something for you."

When he's clean and warm and safe in Aaron's clothes, he finds Aaron laying on his bed, flat on his back on top of the covers. Without saying a word, Spencer lays down next to him.

"Thank you," he says, staring at the ceiling. "For everything."

"I didn't do much," Aaron says.

"You came and got me. You brought me somewhere safe. You didn't judge me for freaking out or running away. Or, um... for going to bed with a m-man."

"I would never judge you for any of those things, Spencer. Not ever."

"That's why you're the best," Spencer says, and yawns. "That's why I called you."

Hotch rolls over, prepared to tell Spencer that he's here if he wants to talk about anything else, that he can stay as long as he needs to, but Spencer is already asleep. Sunlight is just beginning to come through the windows, and Aaron contemplates getting up to start the day.

Instead, he stays on the bed next to Spencer and lets himself drift off.

#cw ptsd #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #maya writes more than 5 sentences #maya's spencer whump collection #maya's hotchreid collection

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anasticklefics · 3 years

Text

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

#tickling #ticklish!poe #finnpoe #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #star wars #star wars fic #tickle fic #unsaid #mine #ana's fics

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Michael visits Alex in the middle of the night.

Michael was drunk. That alone should’ve told him that this was a bad idea.

The second warning? That instead of knocking on Alex’s front door, he’d pushed it open with a flick of his wrist. It was easier, he realized, much easier to use his powers when he was angry and in despair. He worried what that meant for him, but it was at the back of his mind. Right now, all he could think of was Alex.

After he and Max had parted ways for the night, after he’d made sure that his brother was sleeping in bed and his vitals were normal, he had fallen. He’d gotten back to the bunker, realized he was too sober to do any work that reminded him of his father, so he’d had bottle after bottle of acetone, hoping that it would help narrow his focus to the schematics and star alignments and old files without worrying about the peripheral stuff, but with every passing minute, he found it harder and harder to think of anything but seeing Alex.

He found it harder to want anything but Alex.

A few sentences, a carefree and sure smile, a light in his eyes as he promised Michael he would burn the world before he let anything happen to him, and everything in Michael shifted. All this time, he’d thought defying Jesse Manes should’ve been easier for Alex to do. All this time, he’d secretly thought of him as a coward for running, for fighting as hard as he had when it shouldn’t have taken any fight at all.

Now he understood. And he hated that it took him finding out who his own father was to understand the courage and strength Alex had had. The same kind Alex seemed to so easily believe that Michael had himself.

He needed that surety again, now, and if that meant breaking into Alex’s house in the middle of the night to see him, then so be it.

He expected to find Alex in his living room, working on files, unable to sleep like the inevitable insomniac he was, but work at the base must’ve been harder than he’d thought because the lights were off and Alex was curled up in bed, the window pouring in moonlight on his sleeping figure, and shining off his hair and cheekbones like light off water.

Michael froze at the doorway. Looking at Alex like this, up close, he felt something stirring in the pit of his chest. Something that lodged a lump in his throat and burned his eyes and made his fingers itch to reach out and touch.

He missed Alex like he missed breathing, and he had no idea how long he’d been suffocating until he got that fresh air now.

Trudging his way to the bed, Michael reached over, let his fingers hover over Alex for just a second before he dared push them through the strands, brushing Alex’s hair back.

A breath of relief escaped his lips. So he hadn’t been dreaming that encounter the other night. Alex really was back, here, safe and sound and in front of him.

He leaned down, resting his brow against Alex’s temple, his hand coming down Alex’s back and around his waist, pulling him in.

“I missed you,” he rasped out. “God, I missed you.”

Alex stirred beneath his touch. Michael heard a gasp. “Who . . . Guerin?”

Michael couldn’t move away, wouldn’t move away. Alex smelled so good, and he was so warm, and his hoarse voice sent shivers down Michael’s spine that he hadn’t felt in years.

Alex started to sit up, but Michael moved in closer, his eyes shut tighter. “Don’t,” he pleaded, “don’t move away from me. I need you close, Alex.”

“Hey,” Alex sounded confused, but he held Michael’s face like he always did when he was trying to get him to see him. He didn’t realize that when he was around, Michael couldn’t see anybody else.

Michael should’ve been tougher than this, should’ve smirked and made some joke about just being here for sex, but he thought of Max and Kyle’s words and knew there was nothing he wanted less than to lie to Alex now.

He whimpered despite himself and leaned down until he was curled in next to Alex, his face against Alex’s neck, his arms clinging to Alex and keeping them pressed together.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he breathed, the lump growing and making it harder for him to speak. “I’m so sorry.”

He had no idea if he was making any sense, if Alex knew what he was sorry for – making him feel like crap for who his father had been, fighting him and his feelings all these years, leaving Alex for reasons that never made any sense to him but made the worst kind of sense to Alex – but Alex seemed to realize it was for all of it and more when he wrapped his arms around Michael’s shoulders and held him tight.

“It’s okay, Guerin,” he murmured into Michael’s curls. “Just go to sleep.”

There was no fear in his voice, no hesitance. The biggest shock may have been having Michael actually come to him, and Michael hated that, but Alex held him so tightly anyway.

Michael buried his face in Alex’s warmth, his scent, his lips pressed to Alex’s sensitive skin. “I love you.”

Alex shivered and Michael wrapped his arms tighter around him. “Just go to sleep, Guerin.”

Michael couldn’t think of anything else to say before sleep overcame him, comfortable, for the first time since Alex left.

Michael woke to an empty bed and warm sunlight pouring in instead of moonlight, bathing the room in gold. He sat up, bleary-eyed, and looked around. Where was he? This wasn’t his bedroom . . .

Memories of last night flooded in. The acetone, breaking into Alex’s house, getting into bed with him, his confession . . . His eyes fell shut and he nearly fell back down.

Oh my god . . .

Michael took his time washing up and looking for his boots which he had apparently thrown off last night. He thought it might’ve been in his best interest to sneak out the window, but the very last thing he wanted to do with a raging headache was get away from the one person who helped him feel any better.

So he padded into the living room to find Alex curled up on the end of his couch, his laptop in front of him, a mug of coffee on the table. He had his earphones in and Michael could hear the tinny voice of some rock song playing. He imagined Alex usually listened to music out loud in the morning, and took care not to this time so that he wouldn’t wake Michael. Michael’s heart may have swelled.

At the sight of him, Alex calmly turned off his music and took out his earphones.

“Morning,” he said, and nudged his chin at the doorway to the kitchen. “Made you a cup.”

Michael looked over his shoulder, nodded, not knowing what else to do, then went to get his mug. He tasted chocolate and had to refrain a smile as he sat down in the armchair closest to Alex.

He tapped his mug, then said, “Sorry I broke in.”

Alex smirked, clicking a few more buttons on his laptop before he shut it and set it aside. He took his own cup and shrugged a shoulder. “If anyone’s going to invade my privacy, might as well be you.”

Again, Michael had to refrain a smile.

Alex rested his chin on his palm and studied Michael. It never felt scrutinizing, not like other people’s stares. It never felt like he was looking for the bad, only admiring the good. It wasn’t a look he ever got or wanted from anyone else.

“Why are you here, Guerin?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to.”

Alex tilted his head, waiting. Michael swallowed and looked down.

“What if I . . . what if I told you that I don’t want to give up? That I want to keep fighting?”

Alex said nothing a moment, and Michael dared a glance up to see him smiling with something like fondness and pride and something so much more that made Michael want to curl against his side and stay in his safety and warmth.

“I already know that, Guerin.”

This time, Michael allowed himself the half-hearted scoff. Alex so easily believed in his strength. He loved him. He loved him, he loved him, he –

“And if I told you I love you?” he blurted.

The words were barely louder than a whisper, but like an echo against cavern walls in the silence between them.

Alex held his mug to his lips and smiled himself. “I know that, too.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years

Text

A Girl Like You

AO3 Link

Pairing: Little bit of Wolffe x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You end up having a lightsaber sparring match with Anakin and the clones watch on from the sidelines. Wolffe admires the view.

Warnings: 13+, Wolffe eyeing up the reader.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at writing some sort of battle scene, I hope I pulled it off alright. This is mostly a fic about the Dathomiri/Mandalorian reader in order to help me practice writing battles, but I have thrown in Wolffe being cheeky because I couldn't resist. Any feedback is always appreciated, as are reblogs! Fic is below the cutoff, thanks very much for reading x

You’re not entirely sure how you got yourself into this situation. You’d been sitting among a few members of your battalion, the 104th, along with General Skywalker, Commander Tano, the usual suspects from the 501st and a few of the Coruscant Guard commanders, getting yourselves ready to head out for a night out among the lower levels of Coruscant. While you’d been waiting for the last few stragglers to get some fresh armour on before heading out, Anakin had somehow dragged you into some pissing contest about lightsaber designs and which were the most effective in combat. You carried a double bladed weapon, and Anakin had been poking you about how ineffective he’d found them to be in battle. You know he was just trying to get a rise out of you and you hated that it worked.

So that’s how you ended up here, with the challenge of a sparring match presented to you by Anakin. He wanted to test his theory as to what weapon was superior in battle.

“Loser buys the first round at 79’s for everyone” The General suggested. You looked around, there must be at least twenty of you heading out tonight, would your credits even cover that?

“You’re on.” Guess you could always get a few waters and lie to the men. Fox could probably do with a slow start to the drinking anyways.

The three Jedis present used the force to clear some tables out the way, creating a space for the fight. Ahsoka outlined some rules before the event began, which were; no force use on each other, no dirty tricks and please don’t actually hurt each other. Should the latter happen, at least they had Kix there ready to fix them up, even if he was supposed to be off duty.

Once the space was cleared, you got up from your spot amongst the Wolfpack who were hyping you up like you were some pay-per-view sports person about to head into the ring. The 501st boys were cheering for Anakin as Rex gave him a pep talk before sending him off into their makeshift battle arena.

The two of you took your spots opposite each other. You were both still wearing your usual battle clothes, just clean alternatives. Anakin’s fresh, dark coloured robes were neatly wrapped around him, his growing hair hanging just above his eyes as he readied himself for the fight.

You yourself were in a form fitting grey and white jumpsuit which flared slightly at the leg. The sleeves were short, showing off the grey Dathomiri markings on your arms which were dotted across your fair Mandalorian skin. Your whole ensemble was finished off with a single, battle-worn shoulder piece which carried the Wolfpack insignia. Your short blonde hair was in it’s signature half up, half down look, keeping it out of your way.

You both readied yourselves and your eyes met. You could feel the confidence radiating off of him and you knew exactly why. Despite being the same age as Anakin, you were still a Padawan under Master Plo. However, from your Master’s recent suggestions, that wouldn’t be the case for long.

You took a moment to calm yourself. Remembering your training, you let the audience disappear until it was just the two of you. You opened your eyes and readied your lightsaber. You took the handle and held it out in front of you, the space for the two blades coming out either side of your grip. You clicked the weapon on and it buzzed to life. Two green blades in perfect unison. You twirled the weapon around your fingers, pulling it to your side as you got into your initial stance. Leaning back on your right bent leg, your left outstretched in front of you, one half of your weapon inches away from the right side of your head, ready to go.

Anakin had done the same and with some flare, had gotten into his stance. You were both ready.

“After you, Skyguy” and with that, Anakin took the first lunge. You brought your lightsaber up just below your chin, holding it sideways to block his straight swipe down across your head. Your faces inches apart before you both pushed off of each other and started stalking around in a circle, waiting for who would make the next move.

An unspoken understanding in the air between you both, the knowledge that you could push each other to your limits, in a way the Jedi wouldn’t normally encourage in training. The thought sent a slight thrill through your body, you always went into every battle with utmost control, always trying to be a model Commander. You always had to prove to the council that you weren’t a threat, that you could the resist the dark side that came so naturally to your kind. But right now, for the first time, you could really let loose and trial your power with Anakin as you knew he’d be doing the exact same.

The tension in the room was thick, the focused stares between the Jedi entrancing everyone present as they danced around one another.

You both rushed to the centre of the space, sabres clashing right in front of your faces. A cyan glow lit up your features, both sporting wicked grins. The power you both held evident among the spectators. You thought you heard a few gasps from the crowd, but all your focus was directed at the Knight in front of you. His feral smirk held as he spoke from behind the clash of your weapons. “Don’t get too flustered now, I know I look great under blue light”

“Don’t flatter yourself, General” You chuckled as you pushed off each other. Stalking once more.

When you clashed again, it was all a blur. Hit after hit. He was relentless. Your weapons created a bright light show as you kept up with Anakin’s offensive. He pushed you further back, the wall behind you growing closer. You blocked his next hit and took a moment to plan. He was getting confident, too confident. You could use that to your advantage.

You ducked below his next swing and went for his legs, causing him to do a backflip back to the centre. Finally, some breathing room. Now it was your turn to go on the offensive. You charged forward and restarted the fast pace. Delivering blow after blow to Anakin’s defence. Your double blades keeping him on his toes as you made sure to never favour one side of your weapon.

You were both high from the strength you put on display, you don’t remember the last time you let loose like this. You were both sweating slightly, grinning at the enjoyment of such a challenging fight. One strike from Anakin had you swinging your lightsaber over you shoulder to guard your back, as you blocked a particularly dirty move from the General. From the sidelines, you heard Ahsoka reprimanding her Master and reminding him that this was only a sparring match. You raised your eyebrow at the General who just shrugged, still sporting a confident smirk on his face. It was on.

—————

The clones were mesmerised. Of course they’d seen their Jedis fight hundreds of times in battle, but they never had the time to just watch and appreciate. The pair were so different, where Anakin was like a controlled tornado, skill and strength on the brink of being unleashed. Your approach was measured, plotting, more like a slow song building up. Every move you made was calculated, as if you were playing a game of chess.

Wolffe couldn’t help but appreciate the view as you lunged an attack at Anakin. You and Wolffe had been fighting alongside each other for years now but he’d never really seen you like this. Your orange eyes sharp, body tense, feet light as you danced with Anakin. Green and blue clashing. Your moves so smooth and flowing into one another yet contrasted by displays of dangerous power, reminding him of the waters back on Kamino. You looked incredible and he couldn’t help getting pulled into the atmosphere, cheering alongside the rest of his brothers. There was a new feeling in his chest as he watched you battle. Their Jedi. His Jedi.

He continued to stare as the fight raged on. He bloomed with pride when his eyes found your Wolfpack insignia on your shoulder, which perfectly matched your battalion colour-scheme outfit. Speaking of, his eyes couldn’t help themselves as they drifted along your body, finding all the places where that jumpsuit hugged your small curves just right. The way your toned arms strained as you swung your weapon. The way your skin markings lead beneath the v-neckline you’d left at the front of your jumpsuit from the zipper, teasing almost. You were a vision. Maker get ahold of yourself. He shook his head, as if it would clear the racy thoughts from his mind. It didn’t.

Back at the event, there were lulls and peaks in the fight, moments where you were studying each other and others where your lightsabers were in near constant contact as you fought to keep up with the other’s moves.

“You’ve got this General, take her down” Jesse shouted from his position in the sidelines.

“Commander, kick his ass!” Boost piped up in your support.

———————

The crowd getting involved seemed to spur Anakin on further, your next clash resulted in him being able to swing your lightsaber from your grasp. Kriff. Suddenly you felt the tell-tale heat radiating off his weapon onto your throat, only a few millimetres separating them. The 501st were cheering in support of their General while Anakin looked over to his adoring fans, soaking up the praise. You just smirked from your defenceless position.

“You shouldn’t get so cocky, General” you stated casually, pulling him out of his moment.

“What?” Before he could react, you knocked his weapon away from your chin as your right leg hooked around the back of his and sent him sprawling onto his back. You used the force to grab his weapon as you went to kneel on his chest, his own lightsaber now readied towards his throat.

The crowd watched on in shock for a few seconds before the Wolfpack jumped out their seats and started cheering. You’d officially just defeated The Chosen One in a sparring match.

You chuckled at their reactions and Anakin’s pout before helping the General up. You returned his weapon and watched as he stalked back over to his battalion, his pride in tatters. Looking over at your own squad, Comet and Boost were winding up Jesse and Fives over how their Jedi was superior.

As you made your way back over the 104th troopers jumped on you chanting “Wolfpack! Wolfpack! Wolfpack!” some of them even started howling. You just laughed and pushed them off you.

“You’re such dorks” you chuckled, ruffling Sinker’s hair as he walked back to his seat.

“I believe you dropped this sir” Wolffe came over and extended your weapon out to you. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to retrieve your weapon from wherever it’d be thrown in a fight.

“Thank you, Commander” you said with a smile. You were both standing slightly away from the others who were still teasing the 501st, with help from Commander Thorn. Wolffe had a strange look on his face, like he was contemplating something.

“You looked good out there” he piped up, his usual bravado replaced with something more unsure. However, his walls were back up before you could tell what it was.

“You telling me I look good, Wolffe?” You teased, hoping to wind him up a little bit.

“Maybe I am” he replied with a smirk, his eyes giving you a once over boldly in front of you. You blushed at the sudden attention. Well this was new.

“You two Commanders done flirting or can we go now? There’s a free round waiting for us!” Ahsoka shouted from across the way.

You and Wolffe looked at each other for a moment longer before you chuckled and nodded your head in the direction of the exit. “We should head off”.

As you walked side by side with the clone Commander, you thought back to the way he looked at you. There was something in his eyes, admiration, maybe even want? You couldn’t tell, but you definitely wanted to find out. Maybe a few drinks would loosen him up enough to see what was going on in that handsome head of his.

Back to Masterlist

#clone wars #star wars #commander wolffe x reader #clone wars fic #star wars fic #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #commander fox #commander thorn #comet #boost #sinker #master plo koon #501st #jesse #fives

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dottielovegood · 3 years

Text

ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

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The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

#elriel #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Tired: Omega x Platonic! Slicer! Reader

-Hi I’m back from the dead

-i write for females, keep that in mind (sorry, it's what I'm comfortable with, so I hope you understand!)

-but really, I write in 2nd POV, so you can't tell for the most part

REQUESTED

Summary: You're a former bounty hunter who's also a slicer for the GAAR. You meet Omega by chance.

Tired. That was the only thing that could describe your mental state. Being assigned to mission after mission was no fun, especially when it was solo. You were a civvie slicer, one who the GAAR hired by chance due to your reputation.

By reputation, that meant ex-mercenary-who-so-happened-to-have-a-knack-or two-for-technology. The clones were nice to you though. For the most part, they didn't care about your previous occupation because it wasn't the first time anyone's hired Bounty Hunters for the GAAR.

The low hum of the ship helped to ease your building worries. You wondered what the boys of Clone Force 99 were up to. It was no secret that you were part of the complete package. No one knew how you and them got along when you were a civvie. Being outsiders themselves, they hated anyone who wasn’t part of their group. But not you. You were different. Kind. Caring. Understanding.

That thought made you frown. You missed the boys. They had been gone for at least seven rotations without comming you once. The fact that they promised didn't help their cause either. Were they okay? Maybe one of them got hurt, or worse, killed? Maker forbid such a thing.

"They better come back to me in one piece, or I'll have them begging on their knees for forgiveness..."

Beep, beep, beep!

You jolted upright, swinging your legs out form under you as you hurriedly fumbled for the holoprojector. You tapped a button and the cockpit flooded with a soft, blue light. "Tech!" you cried. "It's been seven rotations! Why haven't you commed me?" He removed his helmet with a sheepish shrug. "We've been busy of course. And it's seven rotations and fifteen hours, meaning--"

"Yeah, yeah." you cut in with a sigh. "I don't like the idea of not coming with you guys on missions. I know you're just as capable--more if you want me to be honest--but that doesn't mean I can't worry."

There was a rustle behind Tech and he looked over his shoulder. Hunter came into view, an apologetic look in his eyes. "Sorry we didn't comm you. With all that's gone down, I wouldn't say we've had the time." You flopped down in your chair helplessly. "I know, it's just..."

Hunter smiled warmly. "Don't worry about us (Y/n)." Tech pushed up his glasses and nodded in agreement. "If there's anyone who we should be worrying about, it's you. You go on solo missions six out of nine times. We have each other but you only have yourself."

"Wow, I feel so much better Tech." You sarcastically muttered. "Speaking of mission, I'm on my next one."

Hunter knitted his brows. "Where?"

"Skako Minor."

"Skako Minor?" they echoed. You nodded. "Something strange is going on there. According to Rex, the Seppie battle plans have been drawn exactly like the ones he used to do with Echo--that’s one of his men." You recalled the face of that fallen soldier. He was always so sweet to you, giving a wave whenever you passed and smiling as brightly as he could. To say you missed the poor boy was an understatement.

"Isn't Skako Minor under the Techno Union?" inquired a coiled voice. Crosshair made his way into the frame and unceremoniously squeezed himself between his brothers. "You better not be going alone." You waved it off. "Even if I did, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Like the time you nearly fried yourself with a loose wire on that rock in the Outer Rim? Yeah, I don’t think so.” You averted your gaze to the side in embarrassment. No one needed to remind you of that rookie mistake. You could have gotten yourself killed. The watts were off the chart there. “That was one time. I’m a master at this stuff, don't worry. And besides, Cody, Rex, Jesse, and Kix are with me." Cross's brows shot up. "You're working with regs?"

"Don't worry, they're seasoned soldiers from the 501st.” That was the truth, and you meant it. Working under Rex for months made it clear to you. During that time, he taught you a thing or two about mechanics. “General Skywalker’s men are more than capable. So is Cody."

Cross looked doubtful, and you couldn't blame him. This was enemy territory you were sneaking into. It didn’t matter who you had on your side, because anyone could make a mistake.

A deep laugh echoed from over Cross’s shoulder. Wrecker set down his gonk droid, Lula in the other hand. “You guys need to have faith in (Y/n),” he reminded with a grin. “She’s smarter than me, and she’s always kept up with us. Is there anything she can’t do?” Tech pushed his glasses up with a challenging look. “Uh, actually--”

“Just be careful.” Hunter concluded. “We want to see you back in one piece.” You nodded in understanding. “Copy that, Sarge.” He smiled, and it was filled with unsaid words of care. Cross sent you a nod, eyes all mushy and soft while Tech knitted his brows together worriedly. Wrecker grinned, and it was so bright that it could have blinded you.

“Same goes to you Batchers,” you stated seriously. “Come back to me in one piece, or I’ll come over there and kill you myself.” Tech looked like he wanted to comment on that, but he sensed the shift in mood and kept his mouth shut. You memorised their faces as best as you could. It would be a while until you saw them next.

The hologram flickered out and the soft glow of blue hues disappeared. The cold, dim lighting of the ship fell over you. “Well that’s that.” you muttered with a weak smile. Rex patted your shoulder comfortingly. “They really care about you.”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t always like that. I used to be a stranger too.”

The rest of the ride was spent with the occasional joke from Jesse. He made you laugh, and it helped to soothe your worries. But then the ship landed, and you were thrust into a battle zone. You were thankful Anakin made you wear heavier armour today. If he hadn’t, then you probably would have been vaporized on the spot.

“We need cover!” shouted Rex. That was a no-brainer. Being out in the open at the bottom of a ravine was not in the least tactical. “SBDs!” you called. “Twelve o’clock!”

Jesse raced past you. “Get down!” He threw an EMP. It wasn’t as effective as you hoped it would be. If the Bad Batch were here, this situation would have been completely different. You were on your own. There was no cover, save for the piles of smoking durasteel and the very armour strapped to your vulnerable limbs.

You were in a head-on battle.

“I guess we don’t have much of a choice.” You charged forward, tossing a few EMPs as you blasted away. The best you could do was nail them in the head and hope for the best. Jesse was right beside you, with Cody, Kix, and Rex following suit.

“I didn’t think you would be this daring!” called Jesse. You blasted a few droids and kicked another in the head. It fell with a clank and you smothered it in a healthy dose of blaster fire. “I wasn’t about to be bested by a couple of rust buckets!” you retorted with shake of your head. “Come on, we need to get to that tower.”

You made quick work of the droids. You were no Jango Fett, but you managed with the help of the Regs. Cody congratulated your work and motioned for the squad to continue on. “It’s obvious the enemy knows we’re here. I have my doubts on sneaking in, but perhaps we can manage...”

Past the commando droids, through the front door, then up the lift and a little further down a couple halls. Before the mission, Rex had pulled you aside to speak in private. He thought Echo was alive and that whatever was sending out those Seppie battle plans had to be him. But you weren’t about to get your hopes up. Not when so many of your friends long marched far, far away.

You stopped by a door and plugged in your datapad. “I need to slice open the door. I’m not about to challenge fate here with a charge.” Jesse nodded in understanding. “I’d rather come back with all my legs and arms, thank you very much.” He turned to keep guard as Cody stood close to your side. “Is this the control room?”

“Yes.” The door swished open and you disconnected your ‘pad from the panel. “I’ll slice the computer and retrieve the information we need. Rex, I need you for this portion.” He nodded in understanding and followed suit. You connected your datapad to the communications table. A hologram appeared, where dates and names passed by in the blink of an eye.

“You said this might be Echo.” you quietly stated. Rex nodded. “I can’t be sure, but there isn’t another explanation.” You watched as the information scrolled past at the speed of light. There wasn’t anything of use so far. Only old reports, check-ins and...

The scrolling froze. A file opened up, filling the room with a voice you wouldn’t ever forget. It was scratchy and lifeless, but you were sure it had to be the man who went KIA so long ago. “That’s...”

“Echo’s alive.” Rex affirmed. “It--it has to be him.”

“We’ve got company!” called Jesse.

You transferred the file and stuffed your ‘pad in a safe spot for keeping. “In case anything happens, I’m transferring the data over to you.” you stated. “I wouldn’t want to lose any of this.” The two of you rushed out of the room in a frenzy. Blaster fire sounded above, whizzing way over your head as you sprinted down the hall. The lift wasn’t far, only a couple metres. You just had to run a little more and--

BOOM!

Had a droid thrown a charge? You turned to Rex, eyes wide as he turned to face you. With all of the strength you could muster, you shoved him out of the way. Another BOOM!. You turned just in time to see the flash of brilliant reds and oranges.

The force threw you into the transparisteel windows, which spider-webbed out in long cracks. You were suddenly flying out of the four story building. Shards cut past your face and through your sleeves, tearing away at flesh and fabric without an ounce of mercy. If only you had a doshing jetpack.

“(Y/N)!”

You didn’t scream, but Maker did it kriffing hurt. There was a sickening crack, another blinding flash of sharp pain. You held back a cry.

Just be careful. We want you back in one piece.

Your vision faded in and out. Black blurred the galaxy as you knew it.

I'm sorry, boys.

You fell into the painful jaws of darkness.

-----

The first thing that hit your nose was the sterile smell of bacta. Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring at the blank ceiling of the medbay. The incessant beeping of the heart monitor caught you off guard. How hard did you fall? Much less, what did you break?

A head of dirty blonde hair peeked over the edge of your bed. Her eyes, wide with curiosity made you knit your brows together. She was young, much younger than any girl here should be. You were about to sit up, but the girl frantically straightened.

"You're not supposed to be getting up." She gently pushed you back down. "You have a lot more than a few broken bones." That was when the pain began to settle. You stilled under the thin medbay sheets. "I need to comm someone."

"Now?" the girl incredulously inquired. "You're hurt, you have to rest first." But that was the least of your problems. Where was Rex? Had he completed the mission? How long were you out? Were Jesse, Kix, and Cody alright? You winced and the girl frowned.

"If it makes you feel better, there were a few people who came to visit."

That didn't make you feel better. It meant they saw you like this, in the most vulnerable state you could ever be in. "Who are you?"

The girl pointed at herself like she'd never been asked that before. "Me?" You nodded. "I'm Omega." She smiled and it was a little shy and toothy. "You've been asleep for a while. I thought you weren't going to wake up for another day." You tensed and pursed your lips together. "How long?"

"A week, I think." Omega said. "But it's okay! You're recovering steadily." That wasn't the issue. Recovering steadily wasn't good enough because you were missing out on a mission you needed to complete. If Echo really was alive, then you had to save him. It was the least you could do after he put his life on the line for you so many times before.

"I have to..." You pushed your aching body up. "I have to go."

"No!" Omega forced you back down. "Even if you could walk, you can't fight."

"But I have to..." The look on Omega's face made you pause. She was so small, and in that little body of hers, she stored up a good amount of worry for you. How could you say no to that? A sigh escaped your lips and you begrudgingly relaxed onto the bed.

Omega's shoulders slumped in relief. "I'll get a your holoprojector." You raised a brow with a watchful eye as she scurried away. She rummaged through a lone cabinet in the corner of the room. Your clothes sat there, belt, holsters, blasters and all. Omega pulled out your holoprojector, closed the cabinets, and handed it to you.

"I washed your clothes too if you're wondering," she said with a small smile. "But don't think about going anywhere! You can't walk with broken legs."

A pit formed in your stomach. You can't walk with broken legs. That wouldn't be true if you had seen the blast. If you had ran faster. Maybe you wouldn't have ended up like this, a mess of bandages, casts, and bacta patches. If only you had seen it coming.

"Hey, (Y/n)?" You didn't question how Omega knew your name. Whoever she was, she had to be a someone to wear Kaminoan jewellery anyway. "What is it?" Your voice was quiet, sad almost. Omega played with a loose thread on her sleeve. "That was very brave of you." She stepped closer to the bed and pulled up a chair. "Captain Rex came by this morning. He told me that you saved him from that blast."

You shifted to meet her gaze as best as you could. The holoprojector weighed your hand down like a ten kilo weight. "I just...reacted. Nothing special to congratulate." Omega shook her head. "No, that's everything. If it were me, I don't think I'd be able to do that."

A pull in your gut told you she meant what she said. Your eyes softened. You didn't meet her gaze. Maybe that was because you couldn't. It was a hard enough fact accepting that you were injured, adding on that you were going soft didn't help your cause.

Omega took it as her signal to give you some privacy and exited the room. The doors swished shut behind her, leaving you in a much needed silence. You tapped the projector. It opened up, bathing the snow white room in soft blue hues.

"Rex." you greeted. "I apologize for my absence." His brows were knitted, eyes all sad and cloudy. He tried to keep a straight face, but you knew better. Of course you did. He was your best friend since the moment you joined the GAAR. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I should be asking that to you. Are you alright? That fall was..." He paused and it was like he was choking back tears. "I-I'm sorry. If I had just been more careful, then you wouldn't be..."

"Rex, I'm fine."

"You can't walk." he muttered. "And you can't do much on your own. I took away your independence, this is all my fault." You knitted your brows together. His words made your heart ache, and the very thought of what he faced on his own without you didn't help. Your lips pulled into a frown deeper than Kamino's oceans. "That's not all, is it Rex?"

He clenched a fist as if it would help cease his rolling emotions. "E-Echo...if you had seen him. I'm just glad you weren't there."

"Is he alive?"

"Yes."

"Well where is he?" You had to fight the urge to sit up in anticipation. He was alive. That sweet, loving boy who taught you about protocols and manuals. As boring as it was, all those regulations embedded into your mind saved you more than you'd like to admit. He and Fives always snuck up on you whenever they came back from missions, or commed you in the middle of the night.

They both kept you up at night, but you never minded. Now one of those boys who had marched so far away had the chance of coming home.

"Where is Echo?" you inquired. Rex's eyes fell to the floor. "He's...Watt Tambor made him more machine than man. I-I can't..."

The doors swished open.

"...If only we had..." You shook your head. "Rex, there wasn't anything we could do. It was a miracle you found him in the first place."

The doors closed with a low hiss.

"Found who?"

Your eyes widened and you ripped your gaze away from the projection. A set of worn, tired eyes met yours. He looked different from the bottom up. His new armor, black and red with a familiar 99 on it. His smile, though a bit dampened, remained the same. He made his way over to you and took a seat by your bedside.

"Echo?"

"That's me."

You tried a smile, and it was all watery and shaky. "Oh, you've changed." He chuckled. "So have you. I heard about what happened. That was brave of you." No, it wasn't brave. You did it on instinct, without an ounce of hesitation. "It wasn't brave, I just..."

"Who else is crazy enough to jump in front of an explosion without katarn-class armour?"

You could name a few people. Fives, for example. "Whatever. I just--I'm glad you're alive."

He smiled and it was a little broken. "Me too."

---

Before you knew it, you were up and running again. There was no time to walk because you were needed on a mission today. It was completely solo, but thankfully, a simple retrieval mission with little to no chances of a casualty.

You settled in the cockpit, taking in the familiar scents and smells of the well oiled machinery. Mechanics wasn't your strong suit, but you never minded dabbling in it every now and then. Today, there wasn't time to brush up on your beautiful ship. You had a job to do.

The jump to hyperspace was as smooth as ever. There were no creaks, no fumbling through space, and no bursts of smoke. But that was when you heard a crash from the storage room. Last tine you checked, the door had been sealed shut while the weapons and supplies stowed away as they should be.

Had you forgotten to tie them down? A long sigh escaped your lips. "What a pain."

"So is my backside." piped a chipper voice. Your eyes widened. There was no way you heard that voice correctly. Sure, it was young. You knew a few other people with a young voice. Sure, it sounded girly. You knew a couple other female coworkers.

"Sorry I snuck onboard," the voice added. "I promise, I was going to leave, but then you left and--" You swerved the chair around to face Omega head on. She smiled sheepishly, as if it would fix all the problems in the whole galaxy. Maybe it would have if the whole galaxy were as kind as you.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn this ship around and bring you back." you stated. Omega fiddled with the hem of her sleeves like it was the most interesting thing on the ship. "You’re short on time?" You resisted the urge to say something snippy in response. The look of uncertainty on Omega’s little face made you feel just the tiniest bit worried.

Maybe that was because uncertainty could get people killed on the battlefield.

"Omega," you placed a hand to your temple, "do you understand what you've gotten yourself into?" This was bad, really bad. Sure, the mission wasn’t as dangerous as it should have been, but intel was like the weather forecast. It was never correct. Taking Omega along with you wasn’t a good idea in any universe, and like Malachor you’d let her into the crossfire.

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sorry. “I didn’t mean to sneak aboard.” She definitely meant to sneak aboard. “I just wanted to do something more than...” She let out a short sigh, as if it explained what she couldn’t put into words. “Being on Kamino all the time is so boring. I want to get out and see the galaxy with my own eyes.”

She threw her arms towards the bright blue of hyperspace. You didn’t miss the look of wonder in her eyes, bright as a sun. “There’s more to life than rain and the ocean and the same people I see every single day!”

You couldn’t argue. Omega was right. Even during your recovery, the frustration of not being on your ship doing anything but sitting settled into you every day. You hated being cooped up in one place more than anything. Poor Omega had to put up with it her whole life, it was nearly unfathomable to understand what she felt.

A sharp sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, you can come. But my only condition is that you stay on the ship.”

Omega did not stay on the ship. More than anything, she was curious. She had no clue what dirt was, what kind of plants were carnivorous and deadly, or how to steer clear of all the battle droids.

You raised your blaster and fired at the rust buckets. “This is exactly why I said you should have stayed on the ship! Can you even fire a blaster?” Omega knitted her brows together and eyes the deece at your hip. More than anything, she was curious. Beyond that? Determined.

“No,” Omega replied, “but I’ll try.” She pulled the deece from your hip and peeked over the top of your hiding spot. The long, durasteel crate was just barely holding up. If you were a Jedi, then you’d say it had to be a miracle only the Force knew about.

The deece wasn’t a perfect fit in Omega’s small hands, but it did the job. She aimed at the droids, eyes focused and hands firmly on the weapon. She fired. Once. Twice. Three times. "Did I hit anything?” You fired your blaster a couple times and glared through the smoky haze.

A collection of bolts and durasteel scraps lay in a pile and you couldn’t help but be proud. Either Omega was a natural or she was incredibly strong with luck. Whichever it was, it helped you through the mission, and before you knew it, you were back on the ship with a data stick and an unharmed Omega.

“See, nothing bad happened!” she exclaimed with a grin. You took the blaster from her hands and strapped it back to your hip. “That was luck, I tell you.” Omega rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t! You saw--I was like, pow pow, and you went and hit that guy right in the face!”

“That was because he called me a filthy bounty hunter.” you said, a small smile creeping up your lips. “I can’t say I took too kindly to his harsh words.” Omega let out a laugh and you joined her.

Tired. That was the first thing that came to mind when you thought of your mental state. Yet with Omega by your side, smiling, and carefree despite all the action, you couldn’t help but feel the electrifying sense of thrill.

“Say, Omega? If you want to come back, maybe we can figure out how to get you off that rainy excuse of a planet more often.” you said with a small smile. She beamed, throwing her arms around you with a vigorous nod. “Yes! I’d love that!”

“Me too, kid. We just have to figure out how to convince whoever looks after you.”

BONUS:

A tall kaminoan towered over you with her beady eyes. Omega sheepishly played with her sleeves as you stared down the kaminoan. Stupid long necks. Nala Se blinked. “So this is where you have been, Omega.” That soft, cold voice of hers warmed at the sight of the girl. “Haven’t I told you not to run off? I see you’ve gone somewhere far today.”

Omega frowned shamefully. “Maybe...” Nale Se motioned for her to come to her. “If you would like, you may stay with (Y/n) again--if you are out of harms way that is.” She turned to you and you froze, eyes wide. “Wait, what?”

“I am giving you permission to have Omega under your care, as long as she is out of harms way.” You glanced at Omega, who glanced at you and then Nala Se with the biggest grin on her face. “Really?”

“Yes.” Nala Se smiled. “‘Really’.”

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars x reader #star wars bad batch #Bad Batch #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch

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littlemessyjessi · 3 years

Text

“Mother Nature”: Baron Helmut Zemo Imagine: Plus Size

A Helmut Zemo Imagine Commissioned by: She chose to remain anon so I won't tag her but thank you love for your commission! Much love! Notes from cx: "Can you use your oc Jessi for this please? Can we have cottagecore vibes? Can we have an animal mama? Can we have a cool power and some backstory?" Note from myself: Yes, bebe, of course you can have anything you want! -----------

The tension in the jet could be cut with a knife as the three males resided there.

Sam was caught between irritation at Bucky... in general and due to the fact that he would do nothing but glower at Zemo.

And also by the subject of his glowering himself.

He didn't like the situation in any way, shape or form.

But after coming to the resolution that he was more help to them out of prison that he was in... the both of them had agreed to 'let' him stay.

Even when all of them knew that if and when Zemo was ready to flee... he'd just do it.

"So this woman?" Zemo spoke up. "Why is it that we must collect her?"

"Collect her?" Sam laughed. "What the fuck, man? She's a woman. Not a pokemon card."

"We need her." Bucky said shortly.

"Yeah, we need her." Sam laughed. "What I'm not looking forward to is the ass whoopin that she's undoubtedly gonna dish out when she sees us. What was it she told you the last time she saw us?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Oh, yeah. Something about, 'If I ever see your wish brand Terminator looking ass -"

"Shut. up. Sam." Bucky snapped.

"Then I'll rip that Transformer's reject arm off and shove it up your ass." Sam continued through his laughter.

"I think I may like this woman." Zemo said sipping his champagne with a smirk.

Bucky just glowered out the window and Sam looked thoroughly pleased with himself with the torment he'd managed to provide Bucky in only a few short sentences.

"If I may.." Zemo started only to recieve a menacing glare from Bucky. "If she dislikes you so much what makes you think she'll be willing to help us?"

"Because Jess is easy to bribe." Sam said. "And you're going front the bill for it."

Zemo lifted his eyebrows, "Ah, I thought it would be more interesting. What's her price?"

"Probably some exotic plant that no one has ever fucking heard of and is impossible to get." Bucky sighed, running a hand down his face. "She'll let you know."

"If she doesn't shoot us before we get off the jet." Sam pointed out.

Sam wasn't scared of a lot but Jess McCarty was definitely on that list.

Even if he did find her highly entertaining.

"Oh and she hates Sharon." Bucky said staring our the window again. "So don't bring her up."

"I'm not ignorant enough to bring up another woman." Zemo said. "I was married, you know."

He had been teasing but none of them said anything else.

They weren't exactly on the best terms but even still they wouldn't bring up conversation relating to his late family.

Eventually, they landed in large field with a beautiful mountain landscape decorating the distance.

Helmut could distinctly see a large white truck in the distance.

"So much for easing into the situation." Sam said. "I see she still has Leroy."

"Leroy?" Zemo asked.

"Her truck." Bucky clarified. "Don't ask and don't bring up the bullet holes."

Sam snorted, "Yeah, I think she still owes you a few shots over that."

"Fuck off."

Zemo rolled his eyes at the two of them.

Even after all this time and how much he had become accustomed to their bickering ... it still both amused and annoyed him.

As the three of them descended the stairs of the jet, the slam of a door was heard in the distance.

A woman stepped out and leaned against the grill of the truck, blankly staring them all down.

She was tall, that much Zemo could tell even from a distance, with neck length dark hair that sprung from her head in a wild dark halo.

They'd managed to get about half way to her when she whistled and several dogs bounded from the bed of her truck.

"Fuck." Bucky whispered. "She brought the fucking dogs."

"You better run,"white wolf"." Sam said with a chuckle.

Half amused and half concerned.

"We." he responded. "I'm not the only one here."

"You state your fucking business, Barnes. Before I let them tear you part."

A smirk worked it's way onto Zemo's face as her venomous southern drawl that seemed to contrast so much to her appearance.

She was the picture of lovely.

She looked more like a fairy belonging to a magical woodland than someone associated with the Avengers.

Like a tall, curvaceous Elven queen.

"We need your help and we brought an ATM who has connections." Sam said trying to ease the tension.

She didn't seem impressed.

"I'm not asking again, Barnes. You got three seconds before I sick the hounds on you. And they're hungry. We've been into town passed the diner where they're having a fish fry. My babies are just dying for a snack. And if you even think about laying one hand on them, I'm turning that fucking arm of yours into a coat rack." she spat.

"God dammit, Jess. I told you we need your help. It's a mission and you're the only one who can-" Bucky started before she snapped her fingers and the dogs charged at him. "Shit!"

Realistically, Bucky could've ended those dogs in seconds but if he did, A.) she'd never help them, and B.) she'd make him suffer for it.

Buck let out some kind of strangled cry as he took off away from the dogs chasing after him.

Zemo, no stranger to the military and the dogs associated with it, noted that none of them actually looked as if they were going to harm him but rather just enjoying the chase.

Bucky didn't need to know that though.

"How long are you gonna let them chase him?" Sam chuckled as he and Zemo finally made their way closer to where she stood leaning against the truck.

Jess shrugged, "So what is it exactly that you need?"

"We just need your help with a mission." Sam said. "We can talk about the details later if you decide not to kill us."

She scoffed, "I'm not going to kill you, Sam. But I might maim Barnes a little. Enough to make me feel better."

She finally turned her eyes on Zemo who gave her a small smile.

"So you're the ATM?" she asked with lifted brows. "Do you have a name? Bank of..."

"This is Zemo." Sam said. "He's a Baron and he's loaded."

"Zemo." she nodded, dark brows drawing together.

"Please call me Helmut." he said producing a hand.

She took it firmly as she stared at him.

"Zemo..." she said almost tasting the word in her mouth. "That is so familiar."

Sam sighed, "Yes, it's that Zemo, Jess. And I know what you're thinking-"

"You have no idea what I'm thinking." she snapped, her eyes wretching themselves away from Helmut's soft dark eyes to meet Sam's endless pools.

"Jess.."

"No, you were not there and you do not know." she said as her skin and hair began to change color as her temper rose.

It was then that Helmut recognized just exactly who she was.

"You were there." he said. "In Sokovia."

Her eyes connected with his.

"Yes, I was." she said. "I was with the Avengers when we faced Ultron."

"You're the one that stayed." he said.

"Yes." she whispered.

"You are a hero among my people." he said. "Those of us that are left."

"I am no hero." she said turning away from him and whistling for the dogs who had chased Bucky up an old flagpole and were barking at him.

"There would be many more Sokovians dead if you had not stayed. We were not a large people to begin with and there are even fewer now. I know several who owe you their lives." Helmut said.

"They owe me nothing." she said. "And for the record, of course, I do not support the bombing but I also understand what it is like to be ridden with grief and confusion and anger when you have lost loved ones. Especially as someone who had lost their own children."

Helmut's eyes softened as he thought of his late wife and child and it was then that he recognized the same tendrils of heartbreak in the woman's eyes.

"For what it's worth, I destroyed my fair share of places in my grief." she said. "People will remind us of our faults as long as we live but what they say can never compare to the torture we inflict on ourselves."

Helmut said nothing, only nodded in understanding.

She turned to Sam with a sigh, "I will help you. But I am going to kick Barnes' ass for good measure."

"You sure you wanna go toe to toe with the Winter Soldier?" he teased her.

She lifted a brow, "He is just a man. A soldier. Like the both of you and I can assure that I am not scared of any of you."

"Well, he's not exactly..." Helmut said.

"Yes he is. He lives, he breathes, he bleeds." she cut him off. "And he shot my truck and kicked me off a building. So I atleast owe him a kick in the nuts."

Sam and Helmut dissolved into a fit of laughter as she whistled again and the pack of dogs came running before bounding into the bed of that beat up white truck.

She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

"Do you have a way to follow me? Other than by jet?" she asked through the open window. "Or do I need to drop the hounds off and come back?"

"It's already taken care of." Helmut said gesturing behind to the jet where Oeznik was pulling driving the car off the jet.

"Nice car." Jess said. "I still prefer Leroy though."

"Definitely a beauty." Helmut said. "A little rough around the edges but all wild things are."

Helmut gave her a soft smile to which she returned before speeding off.

"What the fuck was that?" Sam asked.

"What was what?" Helmut asked.

"You flirtin with her?" Sam said. "She will eat you for breakfast, man. And then shit you out and use you to fertilize her little poison garden. Don't go down that road."

"What road?"

Bucky had rejoined the conversation.

"Man, you run like a bitch." Sam laughed.

Bucky just stared at Sam in irritation.

"You couldn't even fight off a pack of dogs?" Sam teased. "One of them was a Yorkie, Buck."

"First of all, I told you that you can't call me that." Bucky said. "Second of all, if I so much as look at one of those dogs the wrong way you know she'll launch a missile at us."

Sam just snickered.

"Apparently, you have a 'kick to the nuts' coming your way." Helmut said and Bucky groaned.

"She is never going to forgive me." he said.

"Why exactly did you shoot her property and kick her off a building?" Helmut asked as they piled into the car.

There was a brief argument about the seat being moved up before Bucky answered.

"Look, the truck was an accident." he said. "It was just caught in the crossfire. And I only kicked her off the building because she was nearly insane."

"Weak logic, man." Sam laughed.

"You were there, asshole!"

"You could've tackled her to the ground."

"While she was trying to choke me to death with vines?"

Sam just laughed at Bucky's predicament while Helmut continued to ponder this woman.

He remembered what little footage there was of her.

After the battle with Ultron, Sokovia had been decemated and the Avengers had left them in the rubble.

In reality, they had tried to evacuate as many as possible.

With the help of Sokovia's own, The Maximoff Twins.

But when it was all said and done, Sokovia was left in the rubble and Earth's defenders just deserted them.

All but the one.

He'd seen the footage.

Shaky cellphone videos of the woman who transformed into animals to move the debris crushing people to death.

Or of how she was in the tents with the small group of survivors using her powers with plants to heal as many as she could.

She'd even tried to plant things and bring the country back to life before the government had basically laid waste to her work.

She'd been most popularly dubbed as Mother Nature by people across the globe but she never spoke in public or confirmed her name.

Helmut got the feeling that she didn't exactly like being apart of the Avengers and certainly did not enjoy the attention that went along with it.

He knew then that it had to have been her that cleared the bodies of his father, wife and son for when he found them among the dead that had been intricately encased in vines with flowers decorating them in the most beautiful way.

When he'd asked about it, he only been told that Mother Nature had stayed to help them.

He hadn't understood that at the time.

After the loss, all he could think of was revenged as grief consumed him.

By that time, she had long since left the Avengers and wasn't on his radar.

He'd never put two and two together.

Helmut drove for the longest time, the lamborghini speeding along the road as they followed the beat up white truck.

The pack of dogs all happily placed in the back, tongues flopping in the wind and tails wagging.

The further they trekked the wilder the country became and soon the hot rays of sunshine only beamed through the thick cover of vegetation above them.

The light through the leaves creating a green glow.

"I feel like Welcome to the Jungle should be playing right about now." Sam commented.

The finally broke through the tunnel of vegetation into a large property of rolling green field smattered with wildflowers and towering trees.

Garden beds and greenhouses were in the distances and horses could be seen grazing freely as chickens clucked around them.

Helmut noted that there were no fences, no pins, no coops for the chickens but instead all he wild life seemed to roam freely.

"Just forewarning you, there's probably a bear or moose around here somewhere." Bucky said. "But don't shoot it or we're dead."

"A bear?" Helmut asked. "She keeps bears as pets?"

"Don't call the animals her pets." Sam said with a smirk, "It pisses her off and as much as I would just love to see you get shot, it's not very practical at the moment."

Eventually they came to a stop behind the truck.

The pack of dogs all bounded out and took off in the direction of several little goats who seemed more than happy to play with them.

Helmut took in the home in front of him.

It was a beautiful home.

Simple in design but stunning in the sense that it seemed to be built around a tree.

"Come inside and have some tea." Jess said. "I'm going to need some if I'm going to listen to whatever utter bullshit you've gotten yourself into this time."

"Uh uh." Sam said with a shake of his head. "That is a lion. I am not going up there."

Jess narrowed her eyes at Sam as Helmut and Bucky looked around for what he was talking about.

Sure enough on the level there was a small balcony where the railing was absolutely littered with cats and a rather large mountain lion was sitting there watching them all with it's great luminous eyes.

"She's pregnant. Relax." Jess said ascending the steps, gently smiling at Helmut when he followed her without reservation.

"Like that's supposed to instill confidence." Sam said. "You ever been around a pregnant female? Hell no."

"I have been a pregnant female, Wilson. And I also very clearly remember the labor pain of having twins. So watch your mouth and come on. If she wanted to eat you she would've already done it. Though if you're so scared, just feed her Barnes. That should tide her over for a while." she said disappearing into the house with a chuckling Helmut behind her.

"This is your fault." Sam said shoving Bucky who only shoved him back.

"Shut up, Sam." he said before they continued up the stairs with Sam moving a little quicker as the cluster of felines watched him.

"I hate cats, man." he sad. "Fucking creepy."

Bucky snorted.

"What?"

"Nothin."

"What?"

"Just fitting that the bird is scared of a little kitty." Bucky teased.

Sam lifted his brows, "First of all, that was not a kitten. That was full on Lion King back there. And second of all, have you never seen Looney Toons. I'm not trying to be Tweety bird."

"Stop being a pussy and come on." Jess' voice rang out. "And shut the damn door. You're letting all the cool air out."

Sam and Bucky grumbled at each other before making their way into the kitchen to see Helmut sitting at the table already happily sipping a cup of tea.

"This is exquisite." Helmut complimented her. "What is it?"

"It's peach and apricot." she said pouring both Sam and Bucky a cup and leveling them both with a look that told them if they didn't drink it she'd strangle them.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Helmut said.

"It was my daughters' favorites. Flora loved peaches and Fauna loved apricots. So to please them both my husband used to blend them together for their little tea parties. Along with little pieces of toast and jam."

She smiled into her own cup of tea but there was a sadness there that he recognized.

He chose not to remark on it and instead studied her features as Sam relayed the information as to why they were actually there in the first place.

"I've seen the Walker guy." she said. "It's unsettling to say the least. But you know I do the limelight, boys. I walked away from all of that when it became obvious that-"

"Jess." Bucky said. "Please. You don't have to talk to anyone. You don't have to-"

"People died. And not just in Sokovia. Yes, that was the final straw for me but it was happening long before that. I understand that 'earth's greatest heroes' or whatever are there to defend everyone. But no one ever stays around to see the carnage. No one talks about everyone who dies in the crossfire. I joined the avengers out of revenge. I was fueled by my anger and pain and I went on missions. How many have I ended up inadvertantly killing under this ruse of 'for the greater good'. I loved Steve to death but he took that shit to his heart and forgot to use his eyes." she said. "While everyone else is busy looking at the 'bigger picture' all of these other people who perhaps you don't know the names of are dying horrible deaths, boys. I pulled people from wreckage who had moment to live. People who's organs were crushed into nothing and they were rushing to give me messages to pass along to their families. Those people are the heroes and no one ever knows it."

The subject of Steve was a sensitive one for everyone but she had a point and they knew it.

She sighed as she looked down into her teacup again, "I will help you regarding John Walker. But I'm not blindly following orders anymore. I make my own decisions and when I'm done, I'm done and I don't want to hear anything about it when I go."

The three of them nodded even though she wasn't asking for permission.

"You want some more tea, love?" she asked Helmut who's heart fluttered a bit at the soft term of endearment.

"Please." he said watching as she methodically poured him another cup.

"I can not leave immediately." she said. "I have to take care of a few things first. But you are welcome to stay here if you wish."

"And if you're not afraid of the cat." she said, aiming it at Sam. "Tweety bird."

"I hate you." he said flatly and she only laughed.

"Her name is Cleopatra by the way. Or Cleo for short. And if you give her a can of tuna from that cabinet there then she'll be putty in your hands. If you rub her belly then she'll love you forever." she said. "She also seems to enjoy listening to Elvis Presley and laying in the sunlight. If that should interest any of you."

"Thanks, Jess." Bucky said sincerely.

"You're welcome." she said. "But I still owe you a beating."

He sighed, "Fair enough."

She left the table and meandered out onto the lower porch to stay at the horizon.

Sam and Bucky said nothing as Helmut followed her out there.

"Thank you." he said as he stared off in the distance as well.

"For what?" she asked. "The tea? You're welcome, dear. It was nothing."

"No." he said turning to look at her. "For what you did for the bodies. My father, wife and son were among the ones you uncovered. They told me it was Mother Nature. I never put it together but now I see."

She said nothing.

"I did it because it was what I would've liked for my own family." she said. "I'm just sorry I couldn't do it for everyone. I tried but there were so many that needed healing. I didn't have ti-"

"The people of Sokovia know that." he cut her off. "But as a son, a husband and a father, I'm thanking you for myself and also for everyone else."

She said nothing as they stared out at the trees.

"What happened to your family?" he asked her.

He knew, from first experience, how painful it was to talk about something like but he wanted to know.

"There was a bombing." she said. "My husband and I had taken my daughters to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit. It was so wrapped up that day that it was nearly impossible to get food there. So we called in some food a couple of miles away at one of the girls' favorite resteraunts. He'd told me to go and get it and that they'd meet me by the water fountains and we'd have lunch. I was stuck in traffic for a good hour coming back when it hit. They'd called in an air strike because it was confirmed that an extremely dangerous terrorist was there. He'd been on the run for nearly a year from a foreign government and when it was confirmed what he had on him, I guess they decided it would be better to blow everyone there off the place of the planet that risk him setting it off and possibly destroying the world. I saw it hit, saw everything go up in flames before it the whole of everything just crashed into the ground. Like the whole word swallowed it whole." she said, voice shaking.

Helmut watched with rapt attention as she struggled to continue.

"I just jumped out of the car immediately and took off. Police were swarming and I got thrown this way and that but I got loose. My family was in there. My husband. My children. I dove head first into the crater not even thinking about self preservation or logic at all. There were no survivors of course but I didn't care. A mother can't just walk away like that. Or atleast I couldn't. I should've died on impact based on the fall but I didn't. About half way down gas released and I can just remember the burning. My skin felt like it was melting off. I was still falling through the air and my skin was searing hot, burning every nerve ending I had. And then I hit. When I woke up, I wasn't there anymore but I panicked because I was covered in vines. Wrapped up like a mummy in vegetation." she said, a dark chuckle coloring her tone.

Helmut shivered as a chill ran down his spine.

"The local authorities pulled me out when everything had been cleared and they began to sort through the wreckage. I'd been turned over to American government when they discovered my ID in my back pocket. They told me that it took forever for the police to get in because vines kept growing from everything I touched. Several of them were strangled to death as I lay down there unconscious. I was deemed dangerous and therefore put it a high security area. I was told a version of what happened that day and propositioned to join the Avengers. I was angry and grieving and I wanted to find out who murdered my children, my husband... so I accepted without hesistation. So when I tell you that I understand how you got to the point that you did... trust me. I get it."

Helmut said nothing as he reached out to take her hand.

"Perhaps, you and I are not so different." he said.

"Probably a lot more similiar than you think." she chuckled.

"Though I am not a goddess." he said with a small smirk.

"I'm no goddess." she said.

"Ah no?" he asked. "Not Mother Nature then?"

"Sure you can call me mother nature...of the current year where I've been poisoned by the human race and am genuinely fed up with life in general. Maybe Mother Nature's trailer trash cousin, Global Warming." she said and Helmut laughed at her in disbelief. "I can say trailer trash cause I am trailer trash."

Helmut shook his head in amusement.

He wasn't sure of anything in that moment but he was thankful for it and he hoped that perhaps his family was somewhere looking down on him.

He silently thanked them for allowing him to meet the one person who had stayed.

Mother Nature always found a way.

----- Hello my loves! I hope you enjoy this! This piece was commissioned by a lovely lady who chose to remain anon! If you have a commission that you'd like done just reach out and I'll answer any questions you have! Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts!

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Text

Irreverent Drabbles: Perils of Realization

Title: Irreverent Drabbles: Perils of Realization Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: G Words: 6078

A/N: This takes place chronologically between chapters 28 and 29.

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You went on a date.

You realized that you were in love with Hotch, and your first instinct was to go on a date with someone else.

In all respects, it was a relatively good decision. Hotch was your boss and despite the close relationship you enjoyed with him, any romantic relationship between the two of you was impossible.

Miles Burton was a Senior White House Advisor whom you'd run into during your social obligations as a member of the Women in Service organization who had persistently flirted with you at the Griffiths fundraiser and had made it a point to say hello at the following two events you'd both been in attendance for.

Once you'd come to the fairly life-ruining conclusion that you were head-over-heels in love with Aaron Hotchner, you made sure to actually flirt back the next time you saw Miles Burton. That was how you found yourself on the date that had you questioning ever having harbored an attraction to men - dinner and drinks accompanied by a rendition of the 101 Life Accomplishments of Miles T. Burton.

This was hell.

After dinner, Miles had insisted on driving you home, and you cursed yourself for having taken a cab to dinner in order to avoid the lack of parking options in downtown. For some reason, he'd gotten it into his head that paying for dinner entitled him to having your mouth wrapped around his cock while he was parked in the street overlooking your house. You'd extracted yourself from the situation with as much contained outrage and dignity as you could muster, and having closed the front door, you find yourself leaning against it with only one thought in your head – Aaron Hotchner would never.

*------------*

"Rough night?"

You look over at Derek as he peers at you over his coffee mug, his eyes filling with amusement, no doubt having already taken in your slightly puffy face and the extra large cup of coffee you're carrying. After Miles had driven away - you'd watched from your window just in case - you'd needed a drink, which had turned into two drinks and ultimately falling asleep on the couch. You'd woken up late and having rushed out of the house - sans makeup - had arrived at work just in time. Hotch may no longer be upset at you being five minutes late, but he's still entirely stringent about punctuality and you hate to disappoint him.

"Bad date," you respond, dropping into your chair and whipping out the little compact and concealer from your bag so that no one else sees you looking like this.

Emily perks up at that, walking over to perch herself on your desk, the beginnings of a grin already forming on her face. "You finally went out with Burton?"

You look up at her, slightly shaking your head in disapproval at her glee. She'd warned you against him. Something about bad vibes, but since it hadn't been anything concrete, you'd impulsively gone against it. You should've known better. Emily's gut, when it came to men, was impeccably accurate.

Pursing your lips, you make sure your face no longer bears the telltale marks of having fallen asleep, drunk on your couch, before you look up at her and Derek once more. "He tried to Lewinsky me," you tell them ruefully, a scowl making its way onto your face as Emily unsuccessfully stifles a snort.

Derek's eyebrows rise in question. "It's fine, I'm okay," you assure him, before looking back at Emily. "You were right. He's an arrogant creep."

"I'm sorry," she tells you, scooching up further onto your desk and swiping up your coffee before you could stop her. "Everyday I continue to be attracted to men feels like a waste."

"Tell me about it," you mutter, careful to not allow your eyes to slip up to the landing where his office was.

"Oh come on, we're not all bad."

Both you and Emily turn to Derek with looks that say exactly what you think about that particular statement.

"Geez, tough crowd." He raises his hands in surrender, turning away from you both and back to his screen, no doubt to message Pen and fill her in on everything.

"I'd make a good lesbian."

You look up at Emily, who has a contemplative look on her face as she continues to take sips of your coffee. Your coffee. Your hot, perfectly sweetened and foamy latte.

"You would," you agree with her, reaching out for the cup, which she thankfully hands to you, before her eyes flit up to the landing. You turn and follow her gaze, eyes coming to rest on Hotch.

He's wearing the navy blue suit with the nice red patterned Gucci tie that you'd helped Jack pick out for him on Father's day. He has a folder on his hand and his brow is already furrowed, straining under the weight of the world far too early in the morning. His eyes move from the papers in his hand to all of you looking up at him, muscles tensed and breath held tight.

"Briefing. Now."

It takes only two words from him to get you all scrambling from your desks and rushing upstairs, his tone telling you everything you needed to know.

It was going to be a bad one.

*------------*

Five girls missing, three bodies found. Based on the pattern, it's already a foregone conclusion that the fourth girl was also dead. Not that you'd tell her parents that. Not until there was a body. All of your efforts were concentrated on girl number five.

You've felt the eyes of the entire team on you ever since the third body was found and Caroline Geller, lucky contestant number five, had been taken from the parking lot of a grocery store after work. All five girls were around the same age, pretty, low-risk, and had no connection to the unsub that you'd been able to work out.

You look up from the notes you'd taken while talking to Caroline's friends from work to see Hotch looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he's quick to look away, turning back towards the screen in front of him. You know why they're all concerned. While all of the girls are roughly the same age as you, Caroline Geller looked like you. Same hair color, similar features, comparable build – at first glance one might mistake her for you.

She taught ballet at the local dance school, volunteered at the soup kitchen every week, and had recently gotten engaged to her fiancé, a beautiful and heartbroken man who had planted himself on a bench outside the precinct and refused to leave his post.

You'd been at their home, combed through their life, seen the wedding invitation pinned to the refrigerator, held her pointe shoes in your hands as you looked around at everything left behind.

Your eyes stay fixed on Hotch's back as he continues to assess the screen of suspects and look at the evidence board, as though willing something to fall into place. He seems more affected by this case, this girl's disappearance, more than any other in recent memory. There's this childish, naïve part of you that's hoping against hope that it has something to do with you. Because she reminds him of you. More likely, it's the fact that he's had to walk past her fiancé, every time he's left the precinct. Hotch had been the one to speak with him, and the poor man had broken down into tears right in front of his eyes. It was enough to affect even the coldest of hearts and Hotch hardly fit the bill of a cold-hearted man, despite any misconceptions made based on his reticent exterior. Aaron Hotchner was one of the kindest and most sincere people you've ever met – devout father, responsible team leader. His very aura commanded the sort of respect reserved for those men, the kind of men everyone looked up to and knew they'd never be.

Somehow, he's permeated your entire life without you realizing it. Ever since the two of you had made up, it felt like things were back to normal, even more than before he'd left. You had dinner with them as often as possible. Both him and Jack slept over at least once a week when there wasn't a case going on. The sight of Hotch in pajamas, disappearing into your guest bedroom was becoming a familiar one. It's beyond normal coworkers, beyond a normal friendship – you can finally admit that to yourself.

How it had happened though - how the two of you had allowed it to happen - still remained a mystery. It had been innocuous enough in the beginning. Accompanying Jack and Hotch to the Zoo or the Smithsonian. Relieving Jess when Hotch couldn't get away and she had to go home to her own family. Keeping him company late nights at the office because you hated seeing him be the last one there.

You can feel a lump rise in your throat as your eyes stay on his frame, watching as he points out an additional factor for Reid to consider in his geographic profile. You didn't deserve him. You didn't deserve someone like him, even if he were to give you the time of day.

You've already thought through how it would go if you were to tell him. Blocked out what you'd say and how'd respond. The initial shock of your revelation would catch him off-guard. He'd falter ever so slightly. It would be quickly followed by a professional and kindhearted rejection. You were his subordinate. You were too young. He's sorry if he did or said anything that might have led you on. Of course, he understands if you need some time and space to gather yourself and make your peace with the matter. Of course you'd still see Jack, he'd never deny you his son again. And he wouldn't. He'd stay true to his word.

But you'd never be the same again. You'd never be able to look at him again and feel anything but the sting of that rejection. The confirmation – you weren't good enough. It didn't matter that you'd changed everything. It didn't matter that you'd tried and tried to atone. You weren't good enough. You never would be. Not for that. Not for him. Slowly, you'd start to withdraw. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. It would hurt too much, just being near him. Without meaning to, you'd lose him.

*------------*

Samuel Nolen, age 45, a landscaper who'd worked jobs around each of the women's workplaces in the weeks leading up to their disappearance. He'd been the only common link Garcia had been able to pinpoint and he fit the profile exactly. Older white male, non-threatening demeanor, rotating job that gave him the freedom to watch his victims uninterrupted. Grew up with a single father, mother left the family when he was nine years old and was never heard from again. Garcia had found out that she'd moved out to Vegas and had a relatively successful career as a cabaret dancer.

He was sat in the interrogation room with both Rossi and Reid talking to him while the rest of you watched from the other side. There was something almost gentle about how he held himself, how he shied away from Rossi and leaned more towards Reid, whom he perceived as non-threatening. The guess was that he'd lured in his victims under the guise of needing help, and based on the man in front of you, you could see how some women might fall for it. He seemed nice. If there's one thing this job has taught you, it's that men don't ask for help from women. If a man is asking you for help, run.

Neither Rossi nor Reid were having much success with him. You could all see the twitch in his fingers as they curled around something imaginary. All of the victims had died via strangulation. The hope was that you'd captured him before he'd managed to get back to Caroline and subject her to the same fate.

Derek and JJ had been the ones to pick him up, and as Derek had marched him past you, through the precinct, Samuel's eyes had caught yours and they'd lingered, sending a chill racing down your spine. He might be able to fake it long enough to lure those women to their deaths, but there was no hiding that look in his eyes. The look of a predator.

"I want to talk to the female agent. I'll only talk to her."

It was the first thing he'd said since the interrogation had started half an hour ago. You feel yourself tense, the eyes of the rest of the team on you immediately. None of you needed to ask which agent. From the corner of your eye you look at Hotch beside you. He isn't looking at you, still glaring at the unsub through the mirror, but you can see that his jaw is set tightly.

When Rossi and Reid exit, Rossi immediately looks to you before his eyes go over you and to Hotch. You don't have to turn to see that they're engaged in a wordless debate about the right next move.

You can't help but think of that lovely empty house. The despondent man still seated outside. Those satin shoes that had just been broken in. They deserved to be worn.

"Hotch," you turn to face him, making up your mind as you do. You're going in. You're going to get answers.

He's already looking at you and you can tell that he doesn't like it at all. His forehead is already wrinkled and you can literally see the dissent on his mouth. He's incredibly protective of the team and everyone knows that you're being asked for because you look most like the victim. His ritual has been interrupted and he's going to be eager to resume it. With you as proxy.

"I have to go in," you tell him, before he can say anything to dissuade you from the notion. There was no point in waiting. Every second you waited, your chances of finding Caroline worsened.

His eyes bore into you, silently speaking his every concern into existence. You didn't have to do this, there was always another way. You look so much like her. You look too much like her. If you go in there, he won't see you. He'll see her.

It is a tense minute as you and Hotch look at one another. He's giving you the chance to back out despite knowing that's the last thing you'd do. Finally, a nod comes from him.

"We still have the personal effects that were found in her car?" You're already walking out to the main office as you direct your question to Emily, who is quick to follow you. She guides you to a box of items, among which there's some pieces of clothing. Grabbing the box, you go back to the office overlooking the interrogation room. If he was going to think you were Caroline, then you'd play into it.

Quickly, you shuffle through the clothing in front of you, selecting a well-worn seeming crewneck with her alma mater on it. Slipping your blazer off, you pull the sweater over your head, adjusting so it hung off of you in a manner reminiscent of how Caroline wore it in the photos you'd seen. You shuck off your heels as well, finding a pair of low flats in the box, which you don instead.

Behind you, you can feel the eyes of the team on you as you slowly transform yourself. For the final touch, you take your hair out of your usually prim updo and let it down. Your hair was a little bit longer than Caroline's, but, as you part it down the left side just as she did, you figure it was close enough.

Turning finally to face the unsub, you take your first breath as Caroline Geller.

*------------*

Aaron watches, fists bunched tightly together, thumb itching to move, to do something that would accomplish something larger simply watching and waiting.

They all knew what you were doing - playing up the similarities between yourself and the victim to draw out whatever it was about these women that played to the unsub's compulsions. Prey on his weaknesses just as he'd preyed on them. It was a good tactic – one he could feel forming in your head as you'd searched through the evidence box in search of props for your scene.

You're good in the field, there's no doubt about it. But here, in the interrogation room, that's where you really shine. It was one of the hardest taught skills and it was the one that you had outperformed in beyond imagination from the very start. Your methods unpredictable and out of the box, but highly effective. Out of them all, you were always the best at getting inside the heads of the unsubs and finding that one little thing that made them break.

He's seen it before countless times now, been witness to each spoken word, well placed emphasis, timely pause. The interrogation room was a stage and you were always the star.

It had been the topic of some conversation between himself and Rossi – how you'd managed to convince some of the toughest unsubs to crack under the pressure of your presence. Aaron, personally, chalked it up to your childhood and upbringing. When your entire life was a performance, you know how to play your role.

Now, as he watches you, he sees how you've managed to mimic the mannerisms of Caroline Geller from the home videos you'd seen of her – the slight tilt of the head, the fiddling with the ends of your hair. Your voice has shifted as well, a slightly higher and happier pitch, more like what one might expect of a dance teacher with students in primary school. You've done your homework on this one, that one is easily clear. However, it's the slight pause you have as the Unsub addresses you as Caroline, the nearly imperceptible tension in your shoulders as the Unsub mocks Caroline's desolate fiancé whom Aaron hadn't the heart to look at. This one had gotten to you, and you wouldn't be able to deny it. Not to him.

At long last, you get what you're searching for. The docks by the east river.

The answer came at a price – twenty five long minutes with just you and the Unsub as he poked and prodded at your psyche just as you did to him.

The confirmation from Garcia, of a heat signature at the given location, comes within the minute and Aaron is quick to rap his knuckles against the glass, signaling your curtain call.

*------------*

You can't save them all. That's the one lesson every new agent learns at their own pace.

You can't save them all.

She'd suffocated before you could get to her. You'd been too late.

JJ hadn't let you see Caroline's body, dragging you back and away from the dock containers when Derek had emerged with a somber face, slowly shaking his head.

Your gun feels heavy in your hand, and it is only out of sheer rote habit that you manage to disarm and reholster the weapon. JJ stands with you as the flurry of people begin to process the scene, lit only by the red and blue flashing lights of the police cars.

You'd failed. You'd been too slow to extract the location, too slow to get there. You'd been too damn slow.

You've lost victims before. Everyone has. But you lived in this girl. You'd worn her clothes, her shoes, taken her name. You'd walked like her, changed your voice to mimic hers. It was as though, by pretending to be her, you'd taken in a part of her that now yearned to reunite with the rest of its whole, but it wasn't able to. So now a piece of Caroline Geller rattled inside of you, sobbing and crying out for the rest of itself.

Hotch and Emily finally emerge and you follow JJ to join them as Hotch assigns everyone their roles. One of the policemen interjects and informs him that Caroline's fiancé had insisted on coming along and was now waiting with a deputy by the barricades. You see Hotch nod, his eyes briefly moving towards the direction of the barricade, before refocusing on the team and instructing Reid to assist with the evidence logging.

As everyone starts to disperse, you can feel a lead ball drop into the pit of your stomach, knowing that Hotch now had the task of informing the fiancé that Caroline Geller was dead.

"Hotch," you begin, his name coming out full and heavy, sitting in your mouth like warm air.

He halts at your voice, turning back towards you. He'd already given you your assignment, so he has to be wondering what you could possibly have to say to him.

You look up at him. It's just you, him, and Emily left now, as she waits for you to help her with processing paperwork on the unsub that Hotch had tasked you both with. "I – ," you falter as you meet his eyes, and you can barely see a hint of him behind them. He'd already donned his mask to go face the fiancé.

"I'm sorry," you manage quickly, jaw tight and heart clenching at the awfulness of the job that he now has to do. The job he always has to do.

The only acknowledgement you receive that he had even heard what you said over the din of the police and ambulance sirens, was the barest of wrinkling to his forehead. The ever so slight slippage of the mask during which you thought you might get to catch a glimpse of him, but he catches it far too quickly and keeps it in place. As if it never happened. Not even nodding, he turns away and walks towards the barricade.

It's a miserable few hours for Emily afterwards, you're sure, as you monotonously follow her back to the police station and begin the task of coordinating with the local office to handle the case and subsequent prosecution.

Emily likes to talk while the two of you work together. Rarely ever do the two of you work without talking, however she seems to pick up on your mood fairly well and the two of you quietly go through all of the required processes.

"You know what your problem is?"

You look up at Emily, who had finally broken the silence, her sharp voice cutting through the small storage room that the two of you inhabited, gathering all of the files that would need to be sent off to the local office.

You swallow, bracing yourself for the worst. At your slight nod, she proceeds, her voice a calm fury like you'd never seen before. "Even after everything you've done, after everything you had to go through, you seem to harbor this delusion that you're not supposed to be here."

"What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. Apologizing to Hotch. You think you don't belong here. That you aren't good enough. You think that girl dying today was your fault."

You scoff, shaking your head. "It was my fault," you retort, grabbing the box you'd just finished packing and making your way to the door before you're blocked by Emily, preventing your escape.

"No, it wasn't. The only person responsible for that girl's death is the guy who's going to rot in prison for the rest of his miserable, fucked up life."

You sigh, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other. "If I'd gotten – "

"You can't save everyone," she interrupts, barreling onwards. "We're going to try. We're going to try our best every single time. But we can't save everyone. None of us can. Not you, not me, not even Hotch. But that doesn't make it your fault."

Emily stares down at you, reaching out and grabbing the heavy box out of your hands and setting it down on the floor by your feet. You look away, up at the ceiling, tears pricking at your eyes, causing them to burn. Your chest feels tight and you take a shuddered breath. The lure of wanting to believe her was so very strong, struck against the waves of dissonance it posed in your head.

Emily softens her voice, reaching out towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she easily pulls you into her chest. "Hotch isn't blaming you. He doesn't think you have anything to be sorry for."

*------------*

The plane ride back was a somber affair, everyone on the team off on their own. Spencer was reading a new book whose title had caught your interest, Rossi was tucked away in a corner with his eyes closed but you're not sure if he's actually asleep. Both Emily and JJ were sitting close together, quietly sharing a bag of Cheetos while JJ worked on her presentation to Henry's class for Career Day and Emily bided the time alternating between reading the trashy romance she'd found left behind in her hotel room and staring out the window. Derek sat across from you with his headphones on, leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. Across the way, you can see Hotch diligently working on his report for the case, the only sound emanating from his faint taps against the keyboard.

Emily's words still play in your head, now competing with that churning voice that you'd had in your head for the past few weeks – you would never be good enough for the likes of Aaron Hotchner. Her words were starting to put some minute cracks in the foundation of that particular statement, and you had no idea what to make of that.

You hear the tapping of the keyboard stop momentarily and watch as Hotch turns up to look at you, your eyes meeting for a long second, before he breaks his gaze, returning back to the screen in front of him. From your seat, you can barely make out a slight crinkling of his forehead as his hands hover above the keyboard, as though faltering in typing out his next words. You have to guess that he's arrived at the part of his statement around the interrogation. You turn away, following Emily's lead and staring out your own window, while unbeknownst to you, his eyes can't help but return to you countless times more.

It felt as though you'd thought of very little besides Hotch, since that day that your mother had visited. She'd left in the wake of one of the few times you'd seen him lose his cool with someone, and having it be done on your behalf, in your defense, had somehow unveiled this entirely ridiculous truth that you'd tried in vain to deny.

You were in love with Aaron Hotchner.

You had no idea what to do with that.

Dating other people hadn't worked out so well.

Trying to simply get over it had been an exercise in vain.

You've run miles in your own head, trying to make sense of it. The question begged itself – why Aaron Hotchner? If you merely wanted a husband and kids, you've no doubt you could have that with anyone you got along with well enough.

Your mind had briefly flitted back to that final date you'd had with Cedric Kensington. It had been highly promising, you'd finally felt it heading in a definite direction and you could see it. You could see yourself being with Cedric, marrying him, having children with him if you were so inclined. Had you not gotten the call from Garcia, informing you that Foyet was back on the grid, who knows what could have happened. Maybe you could've had that with Cedric. Having that perfect life with someone else was not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

You'd thought of John. How it had never been the right time when it came to the two of you. Then finally, when you could conceive being something real with him, you'd faltered. You couldn't go through with it. It hadn't been the right time to choose him. It hadn’t been the right time to choose anyone but yourself.

It had taken you some time but you think you've finally come to the right conclusion of why it was Hotch and no one else – the possibility of losing him was terrifying. Even when the two of you had been on the outs, you hadn't been able to leave, staying anchored to him despite being furious with him. Seeing him had been torture. Not seeing him had been so much worse, and you couldn't bring yourself to endure that again.

Given the absolute fact of the matter – you being in love with Hotch - there were really only two paths forward that you could see. Ignore it and hope it goes away, or tell him and pray you didn't lose him in the process.

The Pro/Con list to that second option had begun, unbidden, the week prior. Your mind going rogue and dreaming up ridiculous and absurd scenarios of you confessing your truth to him.

Pro: You're absolutely, unshakably, madly in love with him.

Con: There's a fairly good chance that he does not and will never reciprocate those feelings.

Pro: Aaron Hotchner was loyal to you. You had always felt he was, but your conversation a few weeks back had cemented that. He would do anything to help you, no matter what.

Con: He's twelve years older than you and has a kid.

Pro: You love his kid.

Con: Between the two of you, your past trauma could be its own wing in the Library of Congress.

Pro: You're both good at getting the other person to talk.

Con: You work together and workplace romances are frowned upon. He was your supervisor, and dating him would no doubt lead to rumors and malicious gossip, which would follow you the rest of your career at the Bureau. It could tarnish you entirely and it could also hurt him.

Con: You would not be alright if the two of you didn't work out. You know that you weren't even together, but the idea of ending things with Hotch, after knowing what it was to have him – that would break you entirely.

Con: He was going to say no, so it was all a moot point.

Towards the end, you'd run out of items for the Pros to balance out each Con, and as of now, the Cons were definitely in the lead.

*------------*

The two of you are once again the last two people in the office. Emily had been the last to leave, leaving her book from the plane on your desk, having already put sticky note bookmarks in all the right spots. She'd winked as she left, encouraging you to skip the rest of the book and skip straight to the good stuff. You had to smile at her attempts to cheer you up. Some friends bought you a drink. Emily Prentiss curated sex scenes that she thought you'd enjoy reading.

You glance up and see that Hotch's door is shut, the orange blush emanating through the glass windows, alluding to the fact that he'd given up on using the overhead lights. They were too bright for him and gave him headaches, so despite the strain on his eyes, he preferred to read by the glow of his desk lamp. With Jack away at sleepaway camp for Cub Scouts for the week, he's unlikely to leave early.

You grab your finished report and head up the stairs to his door, stopping and knocking before hearing his permission to enter. As you open the door, your eyes go immediately to his desk, however he's not seated behind it. Instead, you're greeted by a most unfamiliar sight.

Aaron Hotchner is seated on the brown leather couch in his office, a glass of amber liquid in his hands. You don't think you've ever seen Hotch not working in his office. Sure, he'll take a break here and there when you interrupt, but the image of him outright sitting on the couch, not a report in sight, was entirely foreign to you.

It feels as though you're intruding. Like you’ve stumbled upon something entirely private, because Hotch doesn’t strike you as the kind of guy that makes a habit out of drinking in his office by himself.

You could imagine this was something he did with Rossi on occasion, the two of them sharing a drink after a rough case or catching up and reminiscing about the so-called good old days, before the team had a plane on call.

"You can set that on the desk," he tells you, his voice deeper, made warm by the liquor. He doesn't look up from his glass, eyes fixed on something in the far off distance.

Unsure how to react to the sight in front of you, you quickly make your way across his office, setting your file on top of the already tall stack at the edge of his desk.

Turning around, you quickly walk back towards the door, eager to not bother him any longer than absolutely necessary. When you get to the door, you hesitate, turning back to face him. Before you can stop yourself, you can feel the words tumbling out of you. "Hotch, are you alright?"

He looks up in your direction, his expression entirely unreadable. He nods slowly, and you can see a deep sigh work its way through him, before he finally meets your eyes.

"It was a rough case. Telling the families isn't something I'll ever get used to, I think."

You nod sympathetically. It wasn't fair that it always fell on him.

"I'll be fine, though. Just need to be alone after some of them."

You nod again, not trusting yourself to say much. As you turn to leave, taking his words as your cue, he speaks again.

"You can stay."

You turn back, your head tilting in some confusion as you meet his eyes once more. He looks at you for a second longer, before reaching over to the side table and grabbing a second glass. He pours from the bottle of good scotch that Rossi had given him last Christmas while you watch him.

Proffering the glass in your direction, he beckons you forward. "You're easy to be alone with."

Somehow, in a slight daze, you manage to walk back towards the couch, reaching out and grasping the heavy crystal glass in your hand. He motions for you to join him and you sink into your usual spot, tucking your legs underneath yourself.

His eyes stay on you as you settle in and take a sip of the scotch, feeling it burn your lips, the tip of your tongue, before blooming into a subtle smoky sweetness in your mouth, settling into your stomach like dying embers.

"Are you alright?" he asks, watching you carefully.

You try not to squirm under his inspecting gaze, unable to offer much beyond a shrug. "I will be."

It's quiet for a moment as he continues to look at you and you distract yourself with a stray thread in the cushion stitching.

You hear him clear his throat, shifting slightly on the couch so that his leg bends at the knee as he turns his body to face you, arm stretched out on the back of the couch, fingers grazing the top of your shoulder. "You did everything you could."

You feel that heavy tug in your stomach, unable to look at him, knowing that your face would betray you entirely.

He says your name, soft on his lips, gentle with every part of you. He waits until you look up at him, meeting his brown eyes that held the warmth of an everlasting hearth.

"You did."

You nod slowly, because who were you to disagree with him. Because if Aaron Hotchner said you did everything you could, then maybe it was true.

Not much more is said that night, as the two of you sit side by side.

Pro: You could be alone with Aaron Hotchner.

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