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the-trinket-witch · 11 months

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Practically Perfect Vignette: Azul

(CW: talks of self image, low self esteem. Debatably OOC, but The ending is a set up for down the road.)

"I'm-I have to apologize, for sending those two out to interrogate you," Azul finally admitted, one day. "It was…unprofessional of me. I didn't know when a good time to say this would be but I am. I didn't trust that you were being genuine in wanting to actually be friends." It had been a long time since he had found it difficult to form words. "Thank you for proving your sincerity."

"I understand. If you've grown up on that proposition only ever being some cruel prank, who wouldn't want to make absolutely sure? I told those two, while you had…Overblotted: having that info itself wasn't the issue. To be honest, it just means I don't have to explain anything. I will have to catch up, myself, for us to equally know each other. I’m a bit at a disadvantage since you know more than me. No, my issue was just…how," Albert replied. He shivered at the memory.

The two had finished class, and had planned to spend the rest of the day with each other, their conversation carrying them wherever. It ended up with the two treading over towards Octavinelle and its sights from under the sea.

"Jade's Shock the Heart: it's proven to be rather effective at extracting information. Of course," Azul turned towards Al with a teasing smile and a nudge, "the overly cautious and strong willed are in no danger of falling for it."

Albert's eyes narrowed, his cheeks puffed in annoyance. "We'll gets ya ta talk, Mista Eastwind, see? We gots ways of makin' ya talk," he replied in a mock-mobster tone, referencing a film he couldn't remember the title of. It incited a quick burst from Azul as they both made a seat on one of the benches in the hallway. But then, Albert seemed to deflate, "Can't really say it was a pleasant experience."

The answer brought Azul pause, brow knitting in concern. "It's not…supposed to hurt."

"No, no, it didn't physically, it's just… I don't like having control over myself taken from me. It felt like… those dreams where you fall or drowning, or a crash, and you know eventually you’ll have to impact, but that awful anticipation of when," Albert had turned his gaze to the nautical life floating by with a thud of his head against the glass. "They've probably told you already but: there's been one too many times in my life where things had gotten out of hand in the worst of ways. I don't think I can really help it anymore, trying to keep things in set parameters, or trying to think of every angle-"

"-Possible to make sure as little goes wrong as it can," Azul finished. "I know what you mean about that. My contracts are proof enough of that. Physical evidence with all the terms and conditions laid out." He let out another chuff, a smile in his voice, "And yet…"

"And yet it could all be laid to ruin with just one oversight. My apologies, again. Granted, I'd have liked to have had a place to go home to, once I was out of the infirmary," Albert finished in turn. "I think we both can still learn a little from each other about trust and control."

"Speaking of, I think I need to cut our time short-the change in weather has been so dry, I'll need to go for a quick swim to keep hydrated. I'm sure Floyd and Jade have made time to go, themselves. It'll be about an hour and I can meet back up with you in the cafeteria."

"If you're only going to be that long-would you mind if I came with? It's a little late for me to grab my swimming gear but we can still chat by the poolside," Al offered.

Azul made a poor attempt in hiding the hesitance on his face, "You don't have to; I'd actually rather you didn't. You said so yourself, 'you don't have your swimming gear'. I’d…I don't think you’d want to see," he motioned at himself with disgust. "Besides, it's only an hour."

"Have you already forgotten?" Albert smiled, "I've seen you at your literal worst. What you look like without all that blot cannot be any worse. Can I offer a promise that I won't say anything about it the entire time?" He extended a pinky with the offer.

"I think that might be too much of a promise to keep, even for you. Keep turned around, if you absolutely insist. But, if you happen to see, I ask you have something prepared to trade. Something I don't already know about you," Azul mimicked his friend's gesture.

"Deal." The two connected, making their pact, before heading out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of them retreated to Azul's room, to the pool leading out into the surrounding ocean. It was still interesting to Al that some of Octavinelle’s dorm rooms were equipped with such. Of course it made things more comfortably private. Albert took to turning his back to allow his friend privacy while changing. He took the opportunity, himself, to take off his jacket and shoes. The sound of water being disturbed was his cue that his classmate hadn't immediately retreated.

Azul's head was all that breached the surface, his skin now pale grey. A dusting of purple crossed his cheeks; his attention he couldn't settle between Albert sitting off poolside or some random piece of tile. Part of him was regretting the offer anyway, but some miniscule ember burned inside. Something that wanted to be seen; maybe it was the desire to learn more about Albert? Would that new information be worth showing his natural form? He wasn't a fan of being in such a position, having to look up towards someone, even if he was proportionately larger than them.

"You don't have to sit all the way over there. I've already completed my homework if you need someone to go over yours," He sighed.

Albert almost didn't hear it with how dry the cecaelia's voice was; it was if water was the preferred medium for it to travel. The human was willing to accommodate, though, as the book snapped shut and Al shuffled back towards the edge. Azul watched him open the book and lay it beside him with an almost expectant look. The mer swallowed his anxiety and reached out to try grabbing the homework. His grip was stiff as he caught Al's eyes inevitably wander from his black and grey hand all the way back to his face. Azul froze. His skin prickled into spines with a dreaded anticipation. This is it-he's going to start laughing or running in terror. All Albert did, though, was prostrate at the edge of the water, dropping to almost eye level with Azul. A purple heat washed over the mer's face when he saw Albert's expression.

It was hard for Al to contain his emotions; he wasn't sure whether his face gave away his fascination? Adoration? Awe?

"Oh wow. You look incredible. Is…is that bioluminescence? Do you have 3 hearts, then? Does each tentacle have independent thought? Do they get confusing? How-" Albert caught himself, having already rattled off so many questions. He smacked his head into the tile to hide an embarrassed shade across his own cheeks. "That was beyond rude of me. I'm terribly sorry. You're not a damn zoo exhibit. Forgive me-it's just…Please don't take this wrong but…you look absolutely fascinating."

As the last of his words fell out, his face only grew hotter. He groaned into the tile, hiding his head in his elbows with shame. He whipped his head back up, though, at the sound of Azul laughing.

It was humorless, faint and dry as the rest of his voice. He hoisted his torso further out of the water, resting his head in his hands. His change in position only put more of his lower half on display. Indeed he had morphed to about twice his size, each aspect still proportionate to his smaller human frame. Even so, such a scale would make most folks feel small in comparison to the length of the 8 dark appendages floating behind him.

"Am I to assume this as an earnest attempt at flattery or an elaborate attempt at cruelty?" He whispered with a preemptive tinge of venom. "Well, here I am in all my chubby, awkward horror." His expression seemed braced for impact. He didn't expect the face Albert was making: frustration and hurt. "What?"

"I can't change how you see yourself, but dammitall, Azul Ashengrotto. Don't just dismiss me like that,” Al didn’t mean to sound like a scolding parent, even if his frustration forced words out before he could think. “Sorry-but now I have to wonder who told you that, for it to stick with you all these years. Because, since I have to spell it out: No, you're not awkward, or horrific. I’m not here to pity you, you don’t need it. I'm being genuine when I say you’re none of those, certainly aren't 'chubby'. Even if you were, then, hell, by that metric so would I. You have 8 extra limbs to account for, so that's quite a bit unfair to yourself."

Albert rolled onto his back and began rolling up his sleeves and pants in a huff. His look of frustration didn't lift as he fiddled with a few buttons and took his glasses off before laying back down.

"What are you doing?" Azul had to distract himself from that creeping flutter in his gut. Something twisting at such an aggressive rejection to his personal description.

"Keeping my end of our deal. And showing you I'm not talking out one side of my face."

He thrust his legs up with a grunt, throwing himself backwards into the drink. Azul sank down to accompany him as he fidgeted with the last of his shirt buttons. Albert threw his shirt open for Azul to see. He pointed sharply at his soft torso and bound chest. Azul floated in, curious about the article underneath. They sat suspended as one put the pieces of the other mentally together. Albert locked hands with him to bring him back to the surface once the need for air called. He floated back towards the poolside to grab his glasses and brush back his now wet hair.

"There. Behold: Albert Eastwind in all his soft, feminine ‘glory’. I’ve told you I don’t like lying, because I wasn’t when I said I understood you. I know that exact feeling; looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing something completely different from what everyone else does. But you feel like you’re the only one who can see the truth."

Azul stared for a moment more. A pained sadness washed over his friend’s face. Something inside him tore; he’d never had someone sit in such a similar position as him, at least, that they were willing to admit. He also never had someone so aggressively refuse all of the negative aspects he’d internalized. A feigned smile cracked on his face.

"I'd say this was a fair trade. I actually wasn't expecting that out of you, Albert…Thank you."

"Well, since you've laid yourself out for me to see, I guess I figured I'd get this over with early," Al sighed. "I'd imagine most at least have heard of this form of you," Al gestured to the mer's being. "But outside of you, no one else knows about this." His hand retreated back to his own form. "I hope it's sufficient as something for your backpocket. I mean, our agreement didn't specify you had to keep our conversation secret."

"It didn't," Azul answered. His smile wavered at the bite of Albert’s assumption, but he steeled his resolve, "but we're also doing this in confidence as…associates." The word friend still felt too foreign on his tongue to use. He feigned offense with a return of his grin, “To think you would think so lowly of me, of all people, who’s been only gracious since we’ve met~” The thick sarcasm instilled a quick chuckle out of both of them. “It isn’t going to change your enrollment, not your grades, nor your accomplishments thus far. Not much right now as anything I could use 'against' you.”

“Thank you. Just…thank you,” Albert sighed. “I had a lot of time to myself to figure out who I really was. I can’t say I’d want to do it over again if given the chance, but it’s hard to imagine who I might be today if things were different.”

“And I am who I am today…because of this. All the teasing, the name calling, the isolation…because of this damn form of mine. And nothing can change that," The memories soured his mood as he retreated inward. Azul undulated around the rim of the pool, in a manner Al would have likened to pacing. "And yet here you are. Not teasing, calling names, but even enjoy seeing this? You do see why it's so difficult to accept that, don't you? What I wouldn’t have given to have had something, someone like that, growing up. But again, there’s no changing the past."

Albert sat quiet along the poolside, watching his friend 'pace' and justify his own skepticism. Everything in him sparked with frustration. Not at the mer doing laps before him, but at the individuals who put the words in his head that made him pace so. He didn’t want to let his anger show anymore than before, lest he somehow make his friend believe it had been incorrectly directed at him. Al had to let go an internal sigh at the thought of what he’d have liked to have done, if he could go back. How childish, he thought. Not just that, but then what kind of man would Azul have become without spite to fuel him to be who he was now. Would they even have this conversation? Would they even have become acquainted?

He pushed himself from the side-and away from his pondering-as Azul passed by and reached out for one of the tentacles. The gesture halted the cecaelia in his tracks, beckoning him to turn around. The appendage curled lazily around Al's wrist for purchase. He could feel Albert give a soft but assuring squeeze and nuzzling it with his cheek.

"Then I'm going to even out all that negativity, even if I have to do it all myself."

"After everything I put you and your friends through? Don’t you think it a bit of a waste of kindness?"

"Not to me. Not if it's you."

Al's face had since softened, Azul could see, from frustration to almost a look of pleading. It wasn’t a facade, hiding some ulterior motive. All Azul's years of honing his ability to sniff it out couldn’t find any. Seeing his associate look at him that way made the bioluminescent blush creep all the faster up to his face, once again. His mind raced wondering how he ended up this way-receiving such praise after so many years of rejection. He dipped back under the surface to quell his emotions from spilling over.

Al followed, still tethered by the black appendage. It had since curled further up his arm. The pool couldn’t hide the twist in Azul’s face as he tried fighting back tears. The sensation of hands cupping the sides of his face jolted him, but allowed him to see his friend floating down to eye level. Albert’s hands traveled to his shoulders, giving himself an anchor from floating back up. He didn’t say anything, but the expression he wore spoke for Azul as if to say, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to believe me, but I’ll be here for when you do.’ He jetted forward a little to land a small kiss on his forehead.

Azul wiped away some of the ink beading in his eyes, letting his hands rest on top of Albert’s. He gave them a squeeze in turn, meekly murmuring a ‘Thank you'.

The two resurfaced, both never taking each other's eyes off the other. Azul broke their silence, "It is bioluminescence. And technically three, in a loose term. And they don't have coherent thought behind their movement, it's hard to explain…"

"It’s beautiful. You're skin defaults to black, but I can see it fleck with blue and red once in a while. I…I wish you could see you the way I do. You’re like starlight. Can I just…"

Al dipped back under water to trace along where the darker skin faded to grey, his touch seemed to send ripples of purple across his skin. He cataloged the effect under 'goosebumps'. Tracing further brought him back to one of the tentacles. While everything felt rubbery, it wasn't unpleasant, the water helped make it feel a lot smoother. He let it go as he broke the surface again, but before he could head back down, Azul stopped him.

"Wait. These they aren't intelligent on their own, but they can be independent, so when they get touched too much too often, they might…" Azul warned behind a hand to his mouth. "Get a…little handsy."

"That’s entirely my fault. If I'm being too forward I'll stop."

"It’s just… No one's ever looked at me the way you are; it's all a bit new."

"Well I love what I see: I love how you float like lace, I love how every color culminates to frame your face, I love the softness of your hands, I love you I-" Albert couldn't catch the words before they fell out of his mouth. His face grew alight with embarrassment. "I-I just said that…My apologies."

He scrambled for the edge of the pool, but something snaked its way around his ankle before he could get out. Azul had taken hold with a tentacle, the appendage now glowing violet in patterns not previously seen.

"Wait. What did you say?”

"I’m sorry. I didn't say anything until now because…I assumed that wasn't something you were interested in. I've compromised our friendship enough, already. I should go."

He made another attempt at pulling himself out of the water, but more black appendages came up to envelope him, yanking him back into the drink to face him.

"No one's ever said that without it being some sick joke. I don't want to trust it, but…"

"A contract. I'll sign one, to ensure I'm only telling you the truth. I'll even bet my damn time magic, but I want to let you decide."

His call would be answered by the manifest of a small shining contract. A tentacle snatched at it to draw it up for both to examine it.

"The terms: we aren't to betray each other; go behind the other's back. We help each other, regardless of any score. Last: we never lie to each other. Fair?" Albert asked.

"It does," Azul said in hesitance to such a sudden offer. "You've offered your magic, what would you ask of me, should I breach this?"

"Maybe… Forget everything about me up to that point. It'll be like we never met."

Azul took a moment to digest the terms; did he hear that correct? ‘You’ll forget everything about me’. They’d only known each other for a few months but then, why did he feel like it wasn’t fair to have all of that time possibly ripped away? He'd never felt a term have such personal weight before. Part of him wanted to tear the thing up and just hide away in shame. Who willingly loves an octopus? Especially one like himself? Another part of him wanted to just accept him at his word-that small child at the bottom of the Coral Sea, desperate for attention that didn’t line him up as a punchline. He steeled his thoughts with a shaky sigh. A flick of his wrist manifested a pen for the both of them. Albert signed, not once taking his eyes off of the mer.

The pen sat in the cephalopod's hand, now, with an immeasurable weight. Did he really mean to rope him into this? Did he really not trust his associate, friend, enough to make him sign something that just felt increasingly petty? How childish, he thought. He exhaled and flicked his signature onto the paper. Azul rolled it back up and tossed it over the side of the pool. Once it left his hands he felt Al's reach up to cup his face again.

"Where were we? Oh yes: I love you."

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #azul ashengrotto #practically perfect fanfic #my writing #oc x azul ashengrotto #Is he OOC? Maybe #BUT GODDAMMIT THIS BOY NEEDS SOME LOVE AND ENCOURAGEMENT

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buildingthegrandtour · 9 months

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johnny

It’s been a long time since I felt comfortable in my own skin. It has been even longer since I felt comfortable with somebody else. Something about him… After spending a lifetime running out of breath trying to keep up with the pace of everybody else, he moves at a pace I can keep up with. He remains patient as I try to figure out my own pace. I am fascinated by him, the parts send my heart to flutter as well as the parts that make it crack. It’s not perfection but then if he was I don’t believe I would be so fascinated but rather worried.

I asked him to drive. I am in a town that I have not been in since before I was a teenager and he’s lived here most of his life. He knows where he’s going and I told him to surprise me. I want to learn more about him. And I trust him. I don’t bother checking out the scenery I want him to surprise me. I lay my head on the window and close my eyes holding to my consciousness so I can listen to the engine and the wheels as they move along the pavement. Allow myself to be lulled away from my ceaseless anxiety by The rhythms of the drive and the turns he makes. For all I know he was taking me to the spot where he will murder me. my cats are well taken care of so I’m not too concerned about that. Well, I trust he won’t do that. And if I’m wrong that’s okay. I’m not sure if that’s an optimistic or pessimistic way to look at it.

Sharp turn, and the rhythm changes, the sound is a little rougher. I lived in the country long enough to know what is happening at the moment. We’re on a gravel road now. I open my eyes to see that he has brought me to a cemetery. wavelengths frequencies oh my goodness I’m in trouble. We had discussed this he knows I like cemeteries he knows I find them relaxing.

As he drives along I wonder how does he play it, his time here? is there a particular corner that he is partial to? Or is it like me with my photo shoots where he just picks a spot, as though the dead beneath the ground or calling out to him come visit me today.

Come share this moment with me today.

l get out of the vehicle and he follows my lead. I choose a family tombstone and address them by name, thanking them for their invitation. He just smiles at me and i melt.

I am in so much trouble.

The few seconds it takes for him to sit down next to me stretch out to eternity. I don’t know what happens next and I’m not sure I really care. If he starts listing off movies in his collection I will just be happy that his voice is addressing me. If he sticks to silence I will just be happy that he chose me to keep him company.

If this is my last night on earth, well it’s a good thing I paid my respects before I took my seat. I let out a little giggle at the thought. There’s always that little bit of darkness that wants to come out. But it’s been coming out less and less since he decided to look in my direction. Not since I took theater and my first round of community college did I ever speak to anyone that treated me as though I held any importance. It was always everything and everyone was more important than me.

And my mind is swimming. As George Michael said when a dream comes true what the hell are you supposed to do with it? I think I will take the advice of my company and just see where it goes.

Maybe my bravery bar will level up a little bit. I didn’t have the cheat codes so who knows. Maybe his bravery bar will level up a little bit. Maybe….

Oh that touch. I’m getting that passion stirring up in me oh, the kind I never thought I’d be able to feel or that I’d be able to feel comfortable feeling ever again. That type that comes from Bram stoker’s Dracula. You know the one. Take me because you want me I will never tell you no, I will never turn you down.

He’s tracing my stockings, literally the only part of my outfit that is not brand new. Every other piece was bought and put together for him. I wanted him to be the first to see it. I know he likes reds, deep reds, so that was the accent color of the outfit, along with the little play of my mismatched Harlequin stockings, a crimson wrap around a grey tulle skirt, and it’s been at least a decade since I managed to get myself into a corset and not feel like a fool. I’m getting the feeling he likes it when he moves closer.

I can feel a little shiver moving down my spine as he moves closer to me, tracing the shape of my body as he works his way up to the nape of my neck. Oh that was a weakness I’m not sure I should have told him about. My head is swimming. Things are moving too fast. Things are moving at the perfect pace. Things aren’t moving fast enough. I’m not sure which because I’m not sure how time is moving, not at this moment.

I reach out to him, touch his face, trace his lips, let my hand rest on the back of his neck and move a little bit closer. His hand is tangled in my hair and his lips beneath my thumb just seconds ago are now gently pressed against mine. We take a second to wrap ourselves up into each other before our lips part and we taste each other for the first time.

The first time. That insinuates there will be a second. And hopefully a third and a fourth and… oh wow he tastes so sweet! And this is such the perfect place, where the world stands still, for that first lingering kiss and the passion that comes with it. Yes darling thank you for bringing me here.

originally posted 22 May 2022

#short stories #johnny #dream recollection

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edenmemes · 3 years

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assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present.

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞ ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞ ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞ ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞ ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞ ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞ ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞ ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞ ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞ ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞ ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞ ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing? do you think it is a serious wound? ❞ ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞ ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞ ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞ ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞ ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞ ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞ ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞ ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞ ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞ ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞ ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞ ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞ ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞ ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞ ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞ ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞ ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞ ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞ ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞ ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞ ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞ ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞ ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞ ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞ ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞ ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞ ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞ ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞ ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞ ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞ ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞ ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞ ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞ ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞ ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞ ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞ ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞ ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞ ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞ ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞ ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞ ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞ ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞ ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞ ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about... about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞ ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞ ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞ ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞ ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞ ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞ ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞ ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞ ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞ ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞ ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞ ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞ ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞ ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞ ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞ ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞ ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞ ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞ ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞ ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞ ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞ ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞ ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞ ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞ ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞ ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞ ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞ ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞ ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞ ❝ people change. it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞ ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞ ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞ ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞ ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞ ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞ ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞ ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞ ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞ ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞ ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞ ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞ ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞ ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞ ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞ ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞ ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞ ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞ ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞ ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞ ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞ ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞ ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞ ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞ ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞ ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞ ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞ ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞ ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞ ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞ ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞ ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞ ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞ ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞ ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞ ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞ ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞ ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞ ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞ ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞ ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞ ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞ ❝ please, you must fight for me. who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞ ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞ ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞ ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞ ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞ ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞ ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞ ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞ ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞ ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞ ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞ ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞ ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞ ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞ ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞ ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞ ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞ ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞ ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞ ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞ ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞ ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞ ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞ ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞ ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞ ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞ ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞ ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞ ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞ ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞ ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞ ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end. that i will not allow. ❞ ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞ ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞ ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞ ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞ ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞ ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞ ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞ ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞ ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞ ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞ ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞ ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞ ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞ ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞ ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞ ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞ ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞ ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞ ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞ ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞ ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.) ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞ ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞ ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞ ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞ ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.) ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞ ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞ ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞ ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞ ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞ ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞ ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞ ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞ ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞ ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞ ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞ ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞ ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞ ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #long post for ts /

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

The Perfect Pet

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader AU

A/N: This could be considered a part two to You Cat to be Kitten Me, but you could totally read this without having read the other. I’ll just link the other fic in case you’re interested (LINK). Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3,454

Shinobu knew when she had let herself be dragged to the animal shelter by (Y/n) that it wasn’t going to be a simple visit. ‘Just to look,’ they had promised, but now, here Shinobu was watching (Y/n) stare up at her from their crouched position on the floor as they rubbed the puppy’s belly with hopeful eyes.

“No.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” (Y/n) pouted in return, scratching the soft puppy’s furry neck.

“It’s written all over your face. We are not getting a dog, (Y/n).” Shinobu hated to tell them no, but she really couldn’t stand such furry animals.

“How about a cat?” (Y/n) asked, looking just as hopeful.

“No.”

“A bunny.”

“No.”

“A ferret.”

“No.”

“A—“

“(Y/n), we’ve talked about this. I’m not living under the same roof as some slobbery, wiggly, furry beast. If you want to play with an animal so badly, you can always visit Mitsuri’s cat, or her new rabbit too for that matter. Is that what brought this on?”

“A little,” (Y/n) stood up, forgoing eye contact with Shinobu to scan the rows of animals.

“A little, hm?” Shinobu crossed her arms, “and whatever else could possibly be at play?”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/n) shook their head, “want to grab lunch now?”

Shinobu tilted her head and gave (Y/n) a questioning look. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t nothing. Still, she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this stuffy room and wash her hands. She could question them about it later.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.” She smiled, looping (Y/n)’s arm with her own.

They waved at the volunteers and thanked them before heading out of the shelter and back to their car. They drove to one of their favorite spots with outdoor seating that overlooked the river, talking casually and laughing together while they waited for their food to arrive.

“You remember I have been invited to be a guest speaker at Kyoto University next week, right?” Shinobu had asked between bites.

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing is wrong per se, I was also asked just recently if I could stay a few days more to oversee a new experiment. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind, dear. I love how passionate you get about new projects. I hope you have fun.” (Y/n) smiled, though something seemed a bit forced about it from Shinobu’s perspective.

“Are you sure? I haven’t committed to it yet.” Shinobu tested.

“I’m sure, really. Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“The worried, suspicious kind of look.”

“It’s just that you have seemed kind of out of it since we left the animal shelter. You said it was nothing, but I’m not quite sure that’s true.”

“Shinobu, it’s fine, really,” (Y/n) assured as they paid for the meal, “do you want to go on the river walk trail before we head home or...?”

“What I’d really like to do is find out what’s bothering you.” Shinobu grumbled. Nevertheless, she took (Y/n) by the hand and led them down the path.

Plenty of people were out, enjoying the warmth the sun had to offer. Of course that meant a lot of people were out with their dogs as well. Shinobu took to using (Y/n) as a barrier whenever a dog veered too close to her, sniffing them with wagging tails. (Y/n) was all too happy to intercept the furry canines that they came across.

“This path should really be wider...” Shinobu would mumble, tugging (Y/n) along so they wouldn’t dwell for long.

“We’re almost back to the car. You’ll be okay, I’ll protect you.” (Y/n) teased, staring at Shinobu adoringly. Their hand was squeezed tightly while someone with a big St Bernard passed them by, its tail brushed against Shinobu’s thigh, making her shudder.

Shinobu heaved a huge sigh of relief when they got back into the car. As (Y/n) drove, Shinobu rolled down the window to send any little hair she found on her pants flying out on the wind.

“So, today was fun, right?” (Y/n) asked tentatively while taking the last turn to their house.

“Today was, something.” Shinobu shrugged. Yet she smiled sweetly and patted (Y/n)’s leg. “But any day I get to spend with you is a good day.”

“Aww, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple made the safe return to their house and lazed about for the rest of the day. When dinner came around they cooked together, spinning, teasing and brimming with cheer all the while. It was after they had gotten ready for bed and (Y/n) flopped into the covers beside Shinobu that the doctor decided to try her luck again.

“So what was on your mind today?” Shinobu asked while she turned on her side to observe her partner.

“You’re still on that?” (Y/n) poked Shinobu in the ribs, “let it go.”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong. I’m leaving for Kyoto soon and I want to get this all sorted out so it doesn’t fester while we’re apart. No matter how small a matter you think it is, anything that concerns you matters to me.” Shinobu spoke seriously.

(Y/n) was ready to deny Shinobu again up until she loomed above them on the bed with such stern eyes.

“I just miss you, you know. I guess I get kind of lonely when you’re away.” (Y/n) admitted.

“I miss you too. We always find time to text and facetime, that helps doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. The house though, it just feels empty without you. Of course I’ve got work to do too, but when I’m done and you’re not around, I just feel kind of sad.”

“You could always invite my sisters over, you all get along so well and Mitsuri and Iguro or any of our other friends and family.” Shinobu suggested, mildly upset with herself for not noticing sooner.

“I have before, but I can’t commandeer everyone’s plans every time you’re gone for an extended period of time. You don’t have to worry though, I find ways to keep myself busy.” (Y/n) said, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“I won’t stay the extra days, I’ll email the professors right now.” Shinobu moved to get out of bed but (Y/n) pushed her back down and held her in place.

“No need for that. I don’t want you to skip out on opportunities to grow your research for me. See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“This is why you took me to the animal shelter, isn’t it? So you had something to keep you company whenever I’m away.” Shinobu asked despite already knowing the answer.

“I’ll admit that was kind of the idea. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your eye, but I didn’t keep any unrealistic expectations. I knew you wouldn’t like anything furry. I was kind of hoping to find a hairless cat or something.”

“(Y/n), you should have told me. I would have—“

“You would have settled on something just to make me happy. I wanted to find something we’d both like.” (Y/n) rested their head on the pillow just above Shinobu’s shoulder and nuzzled it with their nose, looping an arm over Shinobu they sighed pleasantly, “It’s really okay. I’d let you know if I thought otherwise. Good night, love you.”

“Love you.” Shinobu smiled, resting her head atop (Y/n)’s.

While (Y/n)’s breathing slowed and they drifted off into unconsciousness, Shinobu was wide awake. She gently drummed her fingers over (Y/n)’s side while she searched her mind for a solution that would leave them both satisfied. Shinobu had raised fish for a time, but you couldn’t really pick them up or interact with them like one would a more traditional pet.

Shinobu slowly scooted to lay upright against the headboard and took her phone off the charger, turning down the brightness a bit when the harsh light hit her eyes. She typed the shelter into her search bar and navigated through the site, trying to imagine herself getting along with any of the animals and failing miserably.

She was about to give up and go to sleep when curiosity got the best of her and she clicked the tag marked ‘miscellaneous’. She hadn’t realized the shelter cared for such unusual animals. Shinobu smiled down at her partner sleeping in oblivious bliss. Maybe this could work out after all.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up to the smell of breakfast and lazily swiped their arm over the bed, searching in vain for the warmth of a body they knew couldn’t be there. With a tired whine, they resigned themself to getting up and stumbled into the kitchen.

“You’re up early.” (Y/n) yawned before giving Shinobu a quick peck on the cheek. “Something wrong at the pharmacy? The clinic? Leaving for Kyoto early?”

“Must there be something wrong in order for me to get up early?” Shinobu asked. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept much at all; she was too busy researching to do so.

“No, it’s just that you prefer to sleep in when you don’t have plans.” (Y/n) said, moving to sit on top of the kitchen island.

“Oh, but I do have plans.” Shinobu cryptically corrected, standing between (Y/n)’s legs.

“You do, do you?” (Y/n) smiled, “do these plans involve me at all by chance?”

“In fact, they do.” Shinobu kissed (Y/n) before stepping back a bit to look them in the eyes. “So eat your breakfast and get dressed so we can head out.”

“Head out? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu finished their breakfast, showered and got dressed. Shinobu started up the car and they went off on their way. (Y/n) asked her a few more times for even just a hint but Shinobu simply smirked, holding a finger to her sealed lips.

She couldn’t keep the secret forever however, especially not after (Y/n) realized what road they just turned on.

“Shinobu, what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I trust you, but what are we doing back at the shelter?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” Shinobu said, already getting out of the car.

(Y/n) unbuckled their seatbelt and quickly followed behind their partner, wondering just what idea could have gotten into Shinobu’s head. They managed to catch up to her just as she greeted the volunteer working the front desk.

“Good morning, we’re here to see Puppy.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu a weird look, but the doctor didn’t pay them much mind as the volunteer answered after a moment of confusion flashed in his eyes as well.

“Really? That’s wonderful! Come follow me to the back.” The young man said.

While the couple followed the volunteer to the back of the shelter, (Y/n) tried to figure out how they were going to dissuade Shinobu from picking out a dog just to please them. Shinobu couldn’t even remember to speak properly when thinking about it. I mean, ‘we’re here to see puppy’? Really? Not a puppy or the puppies just, puppy. She was really just going through the motions, wasn’t she?

“She’s right in there. She has her own little set up and everything. Poor thing was surrendered to us after her owner died of old age, but she seems to be adjusting well. Serve her up a nice big platter of salad and she’ll never forget it.” The jolly volunteer disclosed.

The previous owner died, had they? That was so sad. (Y/n) frowned at the thought. The salad comment got to them however. What kind of dog would want a salad of all things?

“May we go in?” Shinobu asked.

“Sure. Let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’ll be back at the desk if you need me.” The helpful man said before making his way back down the hall.

Shinobu wasted no time in gently pulling the door open and taking a step inside, much to (Y/n)’s surprise. Shinobu ducked her head back out and motioned (Y/n) forward with a curl of her finger. (Y/n) was so confused. Shinobu looked genuinely excited to show her this particular puppy. With a slight delay, (Y/n) followed her in and looked for the dog that had somehow managed to win over their Shinobu’s heart. Their eyes roamed around the room for a moment, they blinked, and nearly broke their neck with the force they used to turn their head back to the shape that had caught their eye.

“No way.” They breathed out.

“What do you think?” Shinobu asked, moving to crouch beside the large tortoise.

“That, that’s not a puppy.” (Y/n) stated dumbly, too shocked to say much else.

“Her name is Puppy. She’s a Sulcata, or an African Spurred Tortoise. Cute, isn’t she?” Shinobu softly stroke the tortoise’s head with her finger.

“She’s massive.” (Y/n) blinked. Perhaps they were still sleeping and this was all just a dream.

“Yes, the biography they had on the website said she’s a little over one-hundred-twenty pounds. She shouldn’t grow much more if at all though, she’s well over eighty years old. Your previous caretaker took really good care of you, huh?” Shinobu said, patting Puppy’s carapace as the giant reptile slowly scooted away.

“Eighty years... Shinobu, are you suggesting we adopt this grandma of a turtle?” (Y/n) watched attentively as Puppy scooted across the floor.

“Tortoise, (Y/n). And yes, I am. She may have more years than the two of us combined, but she could very easily live another sixty years with the proper care and attention.”

“Are we even equipped to give her that? I don’t think we could even pick her up? Like, how would we even get her home and where would we put her?”

“If we decide to adopt her, there plenty of ways to safely transport her. We can set up an enclosure in the back yard and let her roam around the house. We’ll have to keep an eye on her of course, but I’ve heard she’s quite well behaved.”

(Y/n) stared at Shinobu with awe. Never would they have thought Shinobu would speak so passionately about such an unusual animal unless it cultivated its own poison or was some kind of insect. They shook their head and smiled.

“You know,” they said, crouching down to stroke Puppy’s scaly leg, “an actual dog would be easier to take care of, relatively speaking.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Shinobu asked.

“Oh no, I was just wondering if we get divorced when we’re like, eighty, who gets Puppy?” (Y/n) laughed and rubbed their arm, Shinobu had punched it a little harder than she had meant to.

They took some time to get to know Puppy, feeding her some leafy greens from her veggie platter and petting her carapace. It didn’t take long for them to become completely enamored with the old gal.

They met up with the man at the front desk again and filled out an adoption form. It would take a couple days to be processed but Puppy was as good as theirs. They quickly made their way back home to continue their research and completed all the preparations to make the house and yard tortoise friendly.

A couple days later, and the adoption went through. The couple was elated and rushed to pick up the new addition of their family and bring her home. It was a bit tricky, but they made it without any complications.

They let Puppy settle in and explore the yard enclosure first before slowly guiding her to the house with collard greens and cabbage. As they sat in the middle of their living room with the foot and a half long tortoise, Shinobu found herself wishing she could just cancel her Kyoto trip altogether.

“This was a terrible idea. Now I never want to leave the house.” She sighed.

“Aww, it’s like Puppy is your baby. Your very old baby.” (Y/n) said, feeding Puppy another leaf.

“We never did discuss if we were going to give her a new name.” Shinobu thought suddenly. “Any thoughts?”

“Nah, I like Puppy. It’s cute. Besides, she’s had that name for almost a century, it doesn’t seem right to change it now.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that sentiment.” Shinobu nodded.

“You just want to tell Kanae we got a puppy and watch her face change as she realizes the truth, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Shinobu smiled mischievously.

***

When it came time for Shinobu to leave for Kyoto, she hugged (Y/n) close and kissed them sweetly.

“I’ll miss you.” She softly proclaimed.

“I’ll miss you too. I think Puppy will too.” (Y/n) said, looking down to watch Puppy step up to Shinobu’s foot. Most likely she was looking for a snack.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet girl!” Shinobu hummed, couching down to give Puppy a quick rubdown. “You and (Y/n) take good care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Puppy closed her eyes, enjoying the attention Shinobu gave. Shinobu returned to her full height and gave (Y/n) another kiss before grabbing her travel bag and heading for the front door. Before she was fully out of the house, she turned back and smiled at (Y/n).

“I almost forgot to tell you. I texted Kanae about Puppy. Expect her sometime today, she can’t wait to meet her,” Shinobu waved her phone at (Y/n), “try to catch her reaction and send it to me. I really wish I held off on telling her until after I got back.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Be safe.” (Y/n) waved in return, already well aware of what Shinobu had in mind for her unsuspecting sister.

“I will. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you,” (Y/n) watched Shinobu leave before looking back down at Puppy. “Come on, Puppy. Let’s go outside.”

They led Puppy to the backyard with some cabbage and set her up with some hay and other enrichment materials. It was maybe an hour later when (Y/n) heard movement from inside the house. Instead of panicking, they remembered what Shinobu had said and got their phone ready. Just as they hit record, Kanae slid the back door open and jogged over to (Y/n) with Kanao calmly closing the door behind her. Apparently Kanae had convinced her to tag along.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced her to get a puppy! How did you do it?” Kanae started in on (Y/n) immediately. “Where is the puppy? Shinobu wouldn’t send me any pictures.”

“Well...”

“...That’s not a puppy.”

(Y/n) and Kanae turned to Kanao who was staring down at Puppy as she snapped at some hay. (Y/n) turned their phone back just in time to catch Kanae’s double take and the journey of her expression from disbelief to acceptance.

“I should have known it wasn’t that simple!” She groaned, “(Y/n), what did you two do?”

“We got a sulcata tortoise from the animal shelter. Her name is Puppy,” (Y/n) noticed how mesmerized Kanao was by the reptile and grinned, “she’s really gentle, you can feed her some greens from that bucket if you’d like, Kanao.”

Kanao nodded, taking a big, leafy bok choy and offering it to the tortoise with bright, attentive eyes. The youngest sister did not seem the least bit disappointed by Shinobu’s farce.

“I can’t believe her! I should have seen this coming, Shinobu has detested furry things all her life, but this is like a literal dinosaur!” Kanae sighed and shook her head, “She really got me good.”

A moment later, and the eldest Kochou sibling realized (Y/n) had recorded the whole encounter.

“(Y/n), don’t send that! Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Kanae pouted, reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry! She asked me to before she left.”

“You don’t need to do all of your partner’s dirty work. Come on, please?”

“Already sent.” (Y/n) said, a sympathetic smile tugged at their lips.

Kanae frowned and narrowed her eyes, reminding (Y/n) heavily of Shinobu. It was a look (Y/n) seldom saw on the usually cheery woman.

“Fine then. I’m going to pet that tortoise now, hopefully she’s more well mannered than her caretakers.” Kanae turned her nose up on (Y/n) and joined Kanao in gently patting Puppy.

(Y/n)’s phone buzzed and they looked down, Shinobu had answered quickly it seemed. A simple, ‘yes!’ with a couple variants of laughing emojis. But another message soon followed reading, ‘When I come back, we’re getting Mitsuri next.’

(Y/n) exhaled an amused sound and prepared themself for Shinobu to come back from her trip. They knew that once she returned, Shinobu would continue to pull the same joke about Puppy to all their friends and family until no one remained unaware.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny x reader #kny oneshots #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 3 years

Text

Wormhole | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 10k

A/N: This is a comfort fic disguised as a CM episode. Also, I had a lot of fun writing this.

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, murder, general CM things, hospitals, mentions of blood, psychopaths

You weren’t normally nervous to talk to Agent Aaron Hotchner. Sure, he was your boss, but he had also been leading the BAU for so long that you always trusted his reactions and motives. Still, the reason you had asked him to meet was so far out of left field that you were nervous he would tell you you were insane.

You were the first one in the office for the morning, perching on your desk in the empty bullpen while you waited for Hotch to arrive. You stood up when he entered the office, but waited to move until he made it to his office door and beckoned you to follow him inside.

“Good morning, (y/n).”

“Morning, Hotch,” you stood awkwardly in front of his desk, clutching the file in your hands.

“Please, sit. Is everything ok?” As soon as you made eye contact with him, your nerves settled. Everything about his behavior showed that he was genuinely concerned for you and interested in what you had to say. You took a deep breath, sliding the file onto his desk.

“I was looking into this cold case from the eighties, in Illinois. Mia-Rose Horn, 16, found murdered under a bridge. I have a theory, and I was hoping I could take a couple of days to go check it out.” You bit your lip while he picked up the file, thumbing through it.

“What’s your theory?”

“The only suspects considered were older transients in the area because the town was so biased against migrant workers. My preliminary research shows that the unsub profiles as younger, someone who knew the victim and her family personally. It feels like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing, and I think victimology can really help this case. I’d like to visit the dumpsite and walk the crime scene. I’d also like to go through the evidence to see if I can narrow it down a little more, and possibly do updated DNA analysis. I’ve already contacted the lead detective, he said it would be fine if I went out there.”

Hotch was quiet for a minute, reading the case information from the file. The longer you sat in silence, the more you feared he would say no. Finally, he closed the file and handed it back to you, “the FBI wasn’t invited in on this case when it was active, how did you find it?”

You blushed, hard. “I was watching a cold case documentary and when they talked about this one it just didn’t feel right, so I asked Garcia to pull the file. Once I looked it over more I realized my hunch was correct. They barely built a profile and the one they did make was wrong.”

“Do you work on cold cases often?”

“I’ve only worked on it when we don’t have an active case and I’m caught up on my paperwork, it makes me feel like I’m still making a difference when things are slow here.”

Hotch nodded, “you’re a good agent, (y/n). I trust that you’ll represent the BAU well. I can’t let you take the jet but you’re welcome to an SUV. However, as soon as we get an active case it takes priority. Do you understand?”

You stood up quickly, excitedly gripping at the file, “Yes sir, of course. Thank you so much. I promise I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think I could do something. I won’t let you down, sir.” Hotch smiled softly at your energy. You had reached for the door handle before he spoke again, calling after you.

“(y/n),” you turned, hand still on the doorknob, “take Reid with you, I assume he knows the details of this case, too?” You nodded quickly, practically bouncing back to your desk with excitement. You checked the clock, Spencer would probably arrive in the next ten minutes or so, giving you time to arrange everything you’d need for the trip.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, you were waiting for him, go bag in hand.

“Hotch said you could go?”

“Not only that, he said you could come with me,” you smirked, falling in step next to him as he walked to his desk.

“Really?”

“We’re leaving now, so get your go bag.” You did a little happy dance as he started to gather his things.

“Ooh! Where are you going?” Penelope joined you at Spencer’s desk, hot cup of coffee in her hands.

“(y/n) is solving a cold case, we’re going out to Illinois to get more information.”

“The one I pulled for you? You actually solved it? Is there anything you can’t do?” Penelope asked in disbelief. Just last week she had explained to you why she was convinced you were a superhero.

You laughed brightly, “I don’t know if I can solve it yet, that’s why I need to go check it out for myself. Yes, I’ll call you if I need anything,” you answered when she opened her mouth to speak again. She hugged both you and Spencer before you left, making you promise you’d call her with updates and letting you know she’d call the detective to let him know you were on your way.

In true Spencer fashion, he had brought enough audiobooks to last the whole drive. You didn’t mind, your brain was more focused on driving. You didn’t talk about the case until you were nearing the end of the twelve hour road trip. Spencer was the one to bring it up, turning down the volume knob on the console.

“How are you feeling about this?”

“To be honest, Spence, I haven’t really been listening.”

“I meant about the case,” he chuckled.

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up. It’s been a cold case for over three decades for a reason, you know?”

“We wouldn’t be in Illinois right now if you weren’t on to something. Instincts exist for a reason, and your instincts are usually right.”

You fiddled with the air conditioning vents absentmindedly, “I don’t want to dredge up old wounds for the family and the town unless I’m absolutely certain I can bring some closure to them as well. The detective is the only person who knows we’re coming. I don’t want to start interviewing witnesses until I know I can do something to help.”

Spencer nodded, “I’ll follow your lead, you just tell me what you need.”

You spent the rest of the time discussing the details of the case, Spencer looking over the file again while you navigated to the police office. Having Spencer with you made you feel a lot better. You knew the case front to back, but this was your first time leading an investigation and you didn’t want to accidentally miss something in the file out of nervousness. Spencer’s eidetic memory and genius brain would keep you on track and ask you questions you knew would only help you in the grand scheme of things. Spencer was also your best friend, your biggest supporter. Any considerations he had would always come from a place of love and mutual respect.

When you arrived at the police station it was late in the evening, but the detective was waiting for you. He was an older man, tall and mostly bald.

“Hi, you must be Agent (y/l/n). Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Detective Reeves, nice to finally meet you, too. This is my partner, Doctor Reid.” Spencer brought a hand up to wave. “Thanks for letting us take a look at this.”

“Thanks for making the drive out here. This case…” he sighed, “Mia-Rose went missing two months after I started this job and I’ve been hunting her killer ever since. It’s been thirty two years, a fresh pair of eyes will do this case good. It’ll do the whole town good if you can see somethin’ I haven’t.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” you said, not wanting to promise any results to him. “Is there a room we can set up in?”

“I’ve brought all of the evidence to our conference room. Use it for as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” you took off to the door that he had pointed at, Spencer on your heels. He shut the door behind you, dropping his bag on a chair while you picked up examination gloves.

The next few hours were spent meticulously going over the evidence that had been collected. You occasionally made comments to Spencer about where the item had come from and any notes that had already been documented about it.

The clock had just passed midnight when you were ready to move on to the next part of your investigation. You wanted to walk the dumpsite, but it would be useless to go while it was still dark. Instead, you retreated to a small motel at Spencer’s insistence that you needed sleep.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to shut my brain off enough to actually sleep,” you confessed once you were wearing sweatpants and leaning up against the headboard of the bed.

Spencer wandered out of the bathroom, giving you the softest look as he sat down next to you.

“What are you thinking about the most?”

“The evidence told me exactly what I thought it would, but I can’t build a decent mental picture of what happened until I see the dump site. What if I get there and it still doesn’t make sense? What if I’m in too deep on this one, Spence?”

“This case has been cold for thirty years, it can wait one more night. You are an incredible FBI agent. You’re an incredible human, at that. I know you can handle this, and Hotch knows you can handle this, too. If you aren’t able to solve it, you’re not letting anyone down. It’s been a cold case for a reason, I’m sure you’ll solve the next one.”

“Logically I know you’re right, but that isn’t making sleep happen any easier,” you sighed, sinking down onto a pillow. You could tell from Spencer’s expression that he had an idea when he reached up, turning off the lamp beside him and laying down next to you in the dark.

“This is called Image Distraction, all you have to do is close your eyes, try to relax, and listen to my voice.”

“Are you hypnotizing me?” you giggled into the darkness, feeling like a small kid at a sleepover with their best friend.

“No, it’s just a strategy to help you fall asleep. I’m going to describe a scene to you and the idea is that it takes up enough space in your brain to prevent you from re-engaging with other thoughts. Hypnosis doesn’t actually put you to sleep, just in a trance that seems like you’re sleeping. It’s been proven to help change habits and thoughts around sleeping though. There was a study done in 2010-”

“Is that what I’m supposed to be picturing? I’m seeing dudes in lab coats and creepy hospital walls.”

You felt the mattress shake next to you as Spencer laughed.

“No, that wasn’t it. I’m going to start now, picture a waterfall. As you walk closer it gets louder, pounding onto the rocks below it and spraying a mist into the air. The droplets of water stick to your face. You can see a rainbow that touches the pool at the base of the waterfall. The plants growing around the pool of water are greener than emeralds, bright and shining in the sun…”

That was the last thing you remembered him saying before succumbing to sleep. You had a very vivid dream while you were sleeping, not uncommon for someone in your field, but it wasn’t one you had had before.

There was a teenage girl walking in front of you down a long hallway. You instantly recognized her as Mia-Rose. She turned around every so often, beckoning you to come closer, but no matter how fast you tried to move your feet it was impossible for you to catch up. The hallway was familiar, you realized it was one in Quantico that you walked down every day to get to the elevator. It took longer than normal to reach the end, and just when you thought you could catch up to Mia-Rose, Hotch stepped out in front of you, holding Spencer with one arm and holding his gun to your best friend’s temple with the other.

“You have to choose, (y/n).”

“Choose what?”

“One of them has to die. Him or her?” he moved his gun to point the barrel at Mia-Rose.

“I don’t understand, why can’t I save them both?”

“One of them has to die.”

It only took you a moment to consider, “me. Shoot me. Let them live.”

“Brave choice,” Hotch’s gun came to point at you and his finger squeezed the trigger.

You woke up.

Soft morning light was coming in through the window and Spencer was already awake, quietly tying his tie while perched on the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” he grinned when he noticed you watching him.

“Morning,” you panted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You were dreaming.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hotch made me choose between him shooting Mia-Rose or shooting you.”

“What did you choose?”

“I made him shoot me instead.”

You expected Spencer to launch into an analysis of your dream and what it meant, but instead he asked another question, changing the subject.

“Can we stop for coffee before we walk the dumpsite?” he pulled a blue cardigan out from his go bag and stuck his arms through the sleeves.

“Sure,” you said, stretching as you stood up. While you got ready, Spencer found the nearest place to get coffee, and you stopped there before continuing on to the bridge where Mia-Rose’s body had been found thirty years ago.

“I’m too used to walking active crime scenes,” you murmured when you pulled over to the empty dumpsite. Normally dumpsites like this were taped off with officers present, as well as some news reporters and civilian gawkers. You were sure that it had looked like that when the crime had first happened, but now it was just a bridge that nobody thought about.

When you stepped out of the SUV you noticed a small memorial for Mia-Rose nailed to a tree, wilted and weathered flowers around it. You stopped for a minute to look at it, then continued through the brush to the overpass.

Mia-Rose had fallen off of the bridge onto the ground beneath, where you were standing now. Her death was originally ruled a suicide, which had slowed the investigation until her parents insisted she wasn’t suicidal and had her autopsied, revealing ligature marks and evidence of assault. Just from reading the file, you knew that her parents were right. She didn’t profile as suicidal, and if she was she could have jumped from further down the bridge into the flowing river to your right, not onto the ground where she likely would have survived.

“Mia-Rose was found right here,” you pointed, “and her belongings…” you turned to your left, Spencer moving from behind you to stand where the girl’s school backpack and shoes had been found, a handful of yards away.

“They were found next to this rock.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, facing him from where you stood, “the ME found traces of motor oil on her skin, so she must have been transported in a car. That means the unsub was driving on this road, stopped here by the bridge, then tossed her over the side. Why not just toss her stuff after her?” After thinking in silence for a minute, you started moving. “Stay where you are,” you instructed Spencer as you climbed the embankment. Once you reached the bridge, you stood on the edge so you could see both locations of dump sites.

“Spence,” you called to him, “how long is the average car?”

“Anywhere between 10 and 18 feet, depending on the size of the vehicle,” he answered quickly. You positioned yourself in line with where Mia-Rose’s body was found, then paced out roughly fifteen feet, landing you almost squarely in line with where Spencer was standing down the hill.

“What are you thinking?”

“This might sound kind of out there, but what if there was a partner?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out how you had gotten there. He climbed up to where you were standing before asking you about it, “what makes you think that?”

“Eyewitness accounts said they saw Mia-Rose in a car with a man the night she went missing, and they were both sitting in the front of the car, but that’s about all anyone can agree on. What if there was a second unsub sitting in the back? If I’m the unsub getting Mia-Rose out of the front, you’re taking her stuff out of the trunk and tossing it over the side,” you acted out.

“Which means my DNA should be on her belongings,” Spencer concluded, finishing your thought, “I’ll call the lab and start getting things processed.”

“Good idea, I’m going to call Garcia and then we can head back to the station,” you said, pulling out your own phone as Spencer took a step away to make his call.

“Crimefighter! What have you’ve got?” Garcia answered her phone quickly.

“Hey Penelope, can you go through the list of Mia-Rose’s family members and get me some updated contact info?”

“Of course! Did you get a lead? I knew you could solve this,” she rambled. You could hear the clicking of her keyboard as she multitasked.

“Not quite, just a better understanding of the situation. I want to start interviewing family members to really nail down victimology and see if they know of anyone who fits my profile. Spencer’s calling the lab to get some evidence re-examined. When they send you results can you run them through CODIS?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now, thanks Garcia.”

“Anytime, my love. I just sent the updated contacts to your tablet. Garcia out!”

Spencer was waiting for you in the SUV, once you finished your call with Garcia you drove back to the station. Detective Reeves assigned an officer to help you call the family members and invite them in for interviews.

“Mrs. Horn, thank you for coming in to talk with us,” you said gently to the elderly woman sitting across from you.

“Anything to help you find my little girl’s killer. Do you really think you can solve it?”

“We’re trying our best. Any information you can give us will make our job easier. Mia-Rose was walking home from school when she went missing, and was later seen getting into a blue car. Is there anyone she would have willingly accepted a ride home from?”

“No, she always walked, rain or shine so she could say hello to the neighbors on her way home. Except for Tuesdays, my brother Dylan would drive her home from band practice on Tuesdays because it was after dark.”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, silently acknowledging that Mia-Rose was abducted on a Friday.

“Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her, bullies or friends she might have had a falling out with?”

“No, she was sweet to everyone. That’s why it was such a shock to the town when she was killed. There wasn’t a soul who hadn’t been touched by her kindness.” Mrs. Horn spoke so highly of her daughter, further validating your theory.

“Let’s take a break,” you said, noting the way she was tearing up, “excuse us.” You stepped out of the room with Spencer.

“We should talk to Dylan,” he said once you were out of earshot of Mrs. Horn.

“I agree. He was interrogated by police when Mia-Rose first went missing, but I don’t think he’s a suspect. His alibi was rock solid, but he might know something about what happened.”

You had the detective bring in Mrs. Horn’s brother, Dylan Godfrey. While he agreed to an interview, he was much less cooperative than Mrs. Horn.

“I told the police thirty years ago, I had nothing to do with it,” he drawled, “I was at home with my wife, God rest her soul. I didn’t even have my car to kidnap Mia if I wanted to.”

“Where was your car?” Spencer asked quickly.

“My boy had it, out with his friends. He had just gotten his driver’s license. You know how kids are, impossible to control.”

This was the first you were hearing of his son. Nowhere in the records from the original investigation did it say Dylan Godfrey had a son, let alone a son who’s whereabouts were unknown on the night of the crime.

“Mr. Godfrey, let me ask you this. How old was your son the year Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you know where he was that night?”

“Out, like I said. He didn’t come home until after two o’clock in the morning.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Last I knew he was working on a farm just out of town, the McGilroy’s place.”

As soon as Spencer had gotten the information out of him, you were firing off texts to Garcia. She sent you the address of the farm, and you called her once you were en route.

“You’re on speaker, Garcia. What have you found about this guy and why didn’t we know about him before?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. He wasn’t included in any of the original witness statements. I’ve barely been able to find information about him online. I know he’s still alive because I don’t have a death certificate, but other than that no home address, no phone number, no nothing. Everything I know about him is from his childhood, before Mia-Rose went missing.”

“Something is better than nothing, what did you find?”

“Daniel Godfrey, born in 1965 to Mary and Dylan Godfrey. He was a decent kid from what I can tell. He got good grades in school, even got a scholarship to a college in Chicago but he turned it down at the last minute. I’ll hit you back if I figure out why.”

“Thanks Garcia,” you chirped before she hung up. You pulled up the long dirt drive of the McGilroy’s farm, putting the SUV in park and getting out. Spencer was by your side in an instant, you noticed the way his hand rested on his revolver.

“My goal is to get him in for a voluntary interview. If we can get him talking, we can figure out what happened that night and why his known locations on that night fit our timeline. Best case, we get a confession and the name of his partner, worst case, he had nothing to do with it and we’re back where we started.”

Spencer nodded, so you reached up to knock on the door. After a moment, a blonde woman opened the door.

You flashed your credentials, “hi, I’m SSA (y/l/n) with the FBI, we’re looking for Daniel Godfrey and we were told he might be here.”

“He’s out back in the barn,” she said, pointing down a gravel path.

“Thanks so much,” Spencer said as you stepped off the porch. You reached the barn and pushed open the large door, revealing a man inside. He was carrying a bucket of water that he poured into a trough for a horse before acknowledging you.

“What can I do ya for?”

“Are you Daniel Godfrey?” you asked.

“Depend’s who’s asking,” he chuffed, wiping his hands on his dirty coveralls. You held up your credentials.

“I’m Agent (y/l/n) and this is Doctor Reid. We’re with the FBI investigating the murder of your cousin, Mia-Rose Horn. We were hoping you’d come in to the station so we could get some more information about her.”

“What kinda information? Mia’s been dead a long time now.”

You had to play this carefully, one wrong word and he wouldn’t voluntarily interview with you, “your father told us you were out with friends the night she disappeared. We were hoping you could tell us what town was like that night and if you saw anything unusual.”

“You talked to my father? I can tell ya right now, it was quiet. Just like any other night in this town.”

“Great, that’s exactly the kind of information we’re looking for. Would you be able to come with us to the station so we can get that statement through the official channels? While we’re there I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if that’s ok.”

“Are ya saying I’m being arrested?”

“No, not at all. This is completely voluntary.”

Daniel fell silent, considering your offer. When he finally spoke again it was gruff and hostile, “will my old man still be there?”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, hoping he had a better read on what answer would be your best choice. Spencer’s tongue flickered over his lips, then he cautioned a response, “he’s there right now, will that be a problem?”

Daniel looked dejected, scuffing his feet in the hay below his boots, “not unless he makes it a problem.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Our car is out front, is there anything you need to do before we go?”

Daniel shook his head and quietly followed you and Spencer back to the SUV. He didn’t say much while you were driving back to the police station, and neither did you. You escorted Daniel inside the station, walking quickly past where his father was sitting, still talking to the officer Reeves had assigned to your case. Dylan stood up when he noticed his son, but Daniel just kept his head down and quickened his pace. You brought him to an interrogation room, a small space with just a table and a couple of chairs.

“You can wait here, we just have to go collect some materials and then we’ll be back, alright?”

“Whatever,” Daniel said, taking the seat closest to the door. You stepped out, shutting the door behind you.

“Did you see the way Dylan reacted when he saw Daniel?” you asked Spencer quietly. He nodded.

“Did you see the way Daniel reacted when he saw Dylan?”

“Do you think it’s relevant to this case? I don’t want to waste time asking about it if it’s just some squabble they had once. Hotch said I could only work this case until we got an active one back at Quantico, and you and I both know serial killers don’t take extended vacations.”

Spencer considered the situation, you could almost see the gears turning in his mind, “it might be a way we can get him comfortable talking to us, irrelevant or not. This is the best lead we have. Just like you said earlier, you have to get him talking.”

You trusted Spencer’s opinion, not just because he was your best friend, but because he had led his fair share of interrogations during his time in the FBI. He was really good at it, his accelerated mind picking up patterns of words and behaviors that you could only be envious of.

“What do you mean ‘I’ have to get him talking? I thought this was a team effort.”

“It is, but you have to lead this interrogation.”

You weren’t surprised at his statement, but you resented the fact that he was right. Your favorite part of your job was the quick thinking, the on-the-fly deductions you had to make in the field that helped you put all of the clues together. You liked helping people and actively putting bad guys away for the greater good of the country you served. You were good at your job, too, having spent so much time developing your skills with arguably some of the best agents in the Bureau. You couldn’t not be good at your job surrounded by minds like the ones at the BAU.

Like everyone though, there were some aspects of your career that you were better at than others. You usually excelled in the takedown and arrests of suspects and left the mind games to your colleagues that were much better equipped to handle them. Sure, you could talk a suspect into putting their weapon down instead of pointing it at you or a victim, but that was a heat of the moment interaction. Cool, collected interrogation rooms just weren’t your strong suit, and nothing during your time at the BAU so far had changed it.

“You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely. You have the skills, knowledge, and rapport to conduct this interview,” Spencer showed no hesitation in his answer.

“Promise to let me know if I’m going down the wrong rabbit hole?”

Spencer smiled, “of course. Let’s go solve this case.” He handed you a sheet of paper, a form for Daniel to sign with his Miranda rights on it.

Once you were seated across from Daniel, you handed him the paper and read him his rights.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Daniel, what happened between you and your father?”

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between you and Spencer, “what kind of FBI agents are you?”

“We’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. We use psychology to solve crimes. I hope my question wasn’t intrusive, Doctor Reid and I both just noticed the way your behavior changed when you saw your father. He’s been helpful in our investigation and I don’t want any family conflicts to interfere if you’re going to help us too.”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Just a disagreement?” you pressed carefully.

“Just a disagreement.”

“Alright,” you said, deciding to leave it at that and move on. He was giving you too much resistance for the direction you had wanted to take the conversation, so you changed the subject. If his disagreement with his father was relevant to the case, you’d have to get that information out of him another way.

You started off by asking about Mia-Rose and gathering any information Daniel had about her. At first he was reluctant, just explaining that they saw each other during family gatherings and when his father would drive them both home from band practice.

“You went to the same high school then, if you were in band together?”

“Uh huh. It’s a small town, everyone goes to the same school.”

“Can you tell us about who Mia-Rose spent time with? Who were her friends?”

“Everyone was her friend. She was the friendliest kid in school.”

“Who were your friends?” Spencer asked, tilting his head. It wasn’t a question you had thought to ask, but as soon as he did you saw where he was going.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” Spencer answered.

“Alec Krause, Markus Sparrow, Nicolas Rush,” Daniel listed.

“Where are they now?” you asked while Spencer pulled out his phone, presumably to text Garcia for a background check, “are you still in contact with them?”

“They all moved out of town for college. Haven’t seen or talked to ‘em since,” Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“You were supposed to go to college, in Chicago, right?” you prompted. Daniel’s eyes flickered between you and Spencer, probably wondering how much about him you knew.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Got a job at the farm,” he shrugged.

“Daniel, I’m going to be real with you,” you squared up, “I’ve seen plenty of small towns in this job. I’ve talked to many people from small towns just like this one, and almost all of them in your position would have taken the out. They would have moved to the city as soon as they got the chance, so why didn’t you? Why did you choose to stay in this town?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Daniel was quick to correct you.

“You didn’t?” Now you were on to something.

“The disagreement I had with my father was about me leaving. He wouldn’t let me leave, so he got me the job at the farm.”

“Alright, let’s take a break,” you said, standing up and stepping out of the room. Spencer exchanged a few words with Daniel, then followed you out.

“That was big,” you panted, trying to shake out the jump of adrenaline that you were feeling.

“You’re doing great,” Spencer confirmed.

“When Dylan was talking about his son earlier, during his interview, it seemed like he didn’t have control over Daniel. What was it he said, ‘you know how kids are’? Something must have changed to make Daniel listen to his father telling him to stay, something that changed after Mia-Rose was murdered.”

Right before you were going to go back into the interrogation room, your phone rang. Hotch’s name lit up the screen.

“Hold on, Spence. (y/l/n),” you answered, praying that Hotch wasn’t going to tell you to abandon the case and get back to Quantico right when you were making strides.

“I’m just checking in to see how things are going.”

“We’re talking to a person of interest right now, it’s just very slow going. We think he had been working with a partner when the murder took place, but he’s not giving up names,” you explained, “please don’t tell me we have a case that we have to come back for, we just got a break that might open this case up for us.”

Hotch chuckled on the other end of the line, “no, we don’t have a case. Garcia told me you had a lead and I was curious.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you were a prosecutor before joining the BAU. This is exhausting, and every time I say something I feel like he’s going to invoke.”

“You’re doing fine,” Spencer whispered reassuringly.

“Spencer says I’m doing fine,” you relayed to Hotch.

“I’m sure you are. Sometimes unsubs like this take time to crack,” he reminded you.

“It’s already been thirty years, I’d like to close it now,” you decided, squaring your shoulders. “I’m going to go back in there and wrap this up. I’ll call you back when we’re done.” You hung up with Hotch, then turned to Spencer. “Let’s do this.”

Daniel seemed to tense up when you walked back in, sitting down across the table from him once again.

“Thanks for being patient, Daniel. I’d like to know why your father wouldn’t let you leave town. From what he told us, he gave you a lot of freedom in high school. What happened?”

“We had a disagreement, like I said.”

“Right, we’ve covered that. It must have been hard going from being able to do whatever you wanted to working a farm job under your father’s thumb. I was hoping you could tell us exactly what kind of disagreement. Was it because Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel nodded, “ok, that’s a start. Was there a specific reason beyond Mia-Rose’s murder?”

Your tactic was deliberate, validating his feelings before pressing harder in hopes that he would give something up.

“He didn’t want me getting into more trouble.”

“More trouble? As in, you got into trouble here first?”

“Correct.”

“We don’t have any police records for you, Mr. Godfrey. Usually that’s the kind of ‘trouble’ that stops kids from going to college,” Spencer chimed in.

“The police don’t know I was there.”

“Where?” Your question was burning hot, and you watched Daniel squirm as he realized he had dug himself into a hole.

“I was in the car.”

“Which car?” you hoped he meant the car you thought he did, but you needed a true confession.

“My father’s car…” you chose not to say anything and instead let him sit in uncomfortable silence, “the night Mia was killed.”

“With her? Was Mia in the car with you?”

“Yes, she was.”

You had to maintain your composure, even though your insides were doing cartwheels out of excitement. This was exactly the kind of lead you were looking for, you couldn’t blow it now.

“Your father said you were out with friends, were any of the people you mentioned earlier with you? Alec, Markus, and Nicholas?”

“No, it wasn’t with them.”

“Who else was in the car then, Daniel? It wasn’t just you and Mia-Rose.”

“I don’t remember,” he started backpedaling, a clear sign that you were closing in.

“We’re going to step out and give you some time to think about it, see if you can try to remember,” Spencer interrupted before you could say anything, nodding towards the door when you made eye contact with him. You followed him out, turning to him abruptly once the door was shut behind you.

“I was getting somewhere with him.” You were fired up, to say the least. Now that you were in the comfortable privacy of Spencer’s company, you could let your emotions come forward.

“I know, I know,” Spencer smirked, “Garcia got a hit with Daniel’s friends, we should call and see what she has so we have more leverage when we go back in there.”

You took a deep breath, pulling out your phone and calling Garcia.

“Boy Wonder got my text!” she answered after the first ring.

“What did you find, Garcia? We’re really making strides here and anything you’ve got could really close this for us.”

“I ran the names of Daniel’s friends, like you asked. Almost all of them checked out, normal guys with normal lives.”

“Almost all of them?” you caught the specificity of her words.

“Right. One of them, Markus, he checks out too… but his brother, oh my his brother has done some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Spencer asked, brows furrowed in thought.

“Kyle Sparrow. When he was 11 he attempted to rob a bank, and not just as a joke. When he was 14 he was suspended from school after locking students in storage closets. He’s been in and out of jail his whole adult life. He got out a year ago and hasn’t been back since.”

“That fits our profile. How old was he when Mia-Rose was killed?” Spencer followed up.

“That’s where things get weird, I was hoping you guys would have a good explanation because this really doesn’t make sense.”

“Garcia,” you called, refocusing her.

“Right. Kyle Sparrow was 10 years old when Mia-Rose was murdered.”

“What?” you whipped around to look at Spencer incredulously, hoping he would have some kind of information about child serial killers that would clarify the situation. Instead, he just frowned and shook his head. You had to decide if it was worth bringing up to Daniel and risk wasting precious time. You considered for a moment, then spoke. “Send us his address, we’re going to ask Daniel about him. If he seems like a viable lead then we’ll head out there. Thanks Garcia.”

“Done and done. You’ve got this, crimefighters!”

“Are you ready to go back in there?” Spencer asked when you reached for the interrogation room door handle.

“Do I have a choice? This case just took a turn that I wasn’t expecting.”

“It’s been four hours and thirty six minutes. We can take another minute to get coffee if you need a longer break,” he suggested.

“I’m too close to cracking this. I can feel it,” you confessed. Spencer nodded, acknowledging that your gut feelings were usually right. You opened the door, sitting back down across from Daniel. Spencer stood in the corner behind you, hands in his pockets.

“Did you remember who was in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel shook his head. “Ok, that’s fine. I have some names that we’ve collected as people of interest for this case. I’m going to read them off and you tell me if one sounds familiar, ok?” Daniel nodded, so you opened your file and pulled out a blank piece of paper, holding it so Daniel couldn’t see the lack of information on your side.

“Emily Prentiss.”

He shook his head.

“Derek Morgan.”

Again, nothing.

“Penelope Garcia.”

Your list was intentional, listing people you were certain Daniel wouldn’t know so you could get a baseline for his behavior. It paid off when you listed the next name, “Kyle Sparrow.”

You could practically see Daniel tense up. Though he shook his head, his leg started bouncing nervously and his eyes were flickering frantically around the room, looking anywhere but at you and Spencer.

“Daniel,” you started, keeping your voice low, “remember when I told you Doctor Reid and I use psychology and behavior to solve crimes? You may not have noticed it, but your behavior shifted when you heard Kyle’s name. You know something about him, don’t you? Was he in the car with you that night?”

Daniel finally looked up at you, eyes watering, “I’m not a criminal.”

“I didn’t say you were. Was Kyle in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“He was just a kid, my best friend’s little brother. We were out in my dad’s car, I had just gotten my license so I skipped class and took Markus and Alec for a spin around town. When I dropped them off back home Kyle said he was lookin’ to go across town to the library so I offered him a ride. I even made him sit in the back because he was still just a small kid. Then we saw Mia walking home. It always took her longer because she stopped to say hi to everyone she passed. Kyle suggested we offer her a ride too, so I did.

“It all happened so fast, first she was getting into the car and then Kyle had a knife at her throat. He told me he’d kill her if I didn’t do what he wanted. He made me drive out of town to the woods and watch as he tied her up and did horrible, horrible things to her. I didn’t even know a kid was capable of doing those things. When he was done with her he made me help put her back in the car and drive to the bridge. She wasn’t dead when he made me push her over the edge, that’s why I didn’t throw her in the river. I thought she’d survive it without Kyle knowing because he was too busy getting rid of her stuff in the trunk. He still made me drop him off at the library after, even though it was closed on account of it being real late at night, and swear that I’d never tell anyone what we did or he’d kill me too.”

“How did your father find out?” you asked.

“He found blood in the car the next morning. I told him it was from Markus, that he had gotten scratched up while we were messing around in the afternoon. He made me clean it out with bleach, told me I’d have to learn responsibility if I wanted to move out. When my auntie called him later and told him about Mia being missing, he connected the dots. He told me he didn’t want to know what I had been doing the night before, but if I tried to move away it would make me a suspect. He got me the job at the farm and I’ve been there ever since.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Daniel. We’ll tell the court how cooperative you’ve been, they might ease your sentence because of it.”

“The court? What?” Pure fear crossed Daniel’s face. It didn’t sit right with you that he had to be arrested, knowing he had been coerced into helping murder his cousin, but he had still committed a felony. You had to let the court decide his fate.

“Daniel Godfrey, you’re under arrest for accessory to the murder of Mia-Rose Horn,” Spencer moved behind Daniel, taking his hands to cuff them. As soon as he was done Daniel was passed off to an officer and you and Spencer took off, SUV keys in hand.

You sped towards the home address Garcia had sent you for Kyle Sparrow, wishing the rest of the team was there so you could split up in case he was at work. This part of your job was where you felt the most comfortable, the tactical side of an arrest that was more physical than the mind games you had just played in the interrogation room. It was just starting to rain, a light drizzle that darkened the skies as you drove to what you hoped was your final location for this case.

“Is there Kevlar in the back?” you asked, realizing you hadn’t gotten vests from the police station before you had left. Spencer turned around in his seat, checking around the vehicle.

“Nope.”

“Great,” you sighed, “let’s try not to get shot at then, alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer agreed.

You pulled up to Kyle’s house, which was more of a rundown shack on the outskirts of town. You drew your weapon as soon as your boots were on the ground, approaching the door cautiously.

“Where’s Morgan when you need him,” you mumbled, hoping you wouldn’t have to kick the door down, “Kyle Sparrow, FBI,” you announced, knocking on the door. A gunshot flew through the window next to you, shattering the glass. That was all the invitation you needed to bust open the door, but Kyle wasn’t in the room inside. You moved quickly through the maze of rooms, taking one side while Spencer took the other.

“Clear,” you called every time you ensured a room was empty. You heard Spencer clear a couple of spaces, then fall silent. You worked your way to the kitchen, finding him in a standoff with Kyle.

“I’m not going to jail again. You can’t make me,” Kyle seemed unreasonably calm, grinning slightly to himself while he pointed a pistol at Spencer.

“You’re wanted for the murder of Mia-Rose, Kyle. There’s no way to get out of this one,” you had to keep things simple for him and talk him down as quickly as possible before he shot at you again, “let’s just talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not going to jail for a person I killed thirty years ago.”

“There’s no other option. We know it was you, this ends here.”

“If I have to go back, it has to be for something better. You’re right, this ends here, but not because I killed Mia-Rose Horn.”

“How does it end, Kyle?” Spencer asked. You noticed the glint in Kyle’s eye, giving you a split second to push Spencer out of the way and get hit with a searing pain in your side. You heard Spencer’s revolver fire as you hit the floor.

“Get him first,” you grunted, putting a hand on your side to try to stem the bleeding. Spencer crouched next to you, worried eyes looking you over before he pulled your handcuffs out of your pocket. Your ears were ringing, but you could just make out the sounds of Spencer talking before you blacked out.

You woke up in the hospital, an all too familiar experience. Spencer was beside you, nose in a book. You weren’t sure how much he was paying attention to it though, considering the way his brows were furrowed and his fingers were tapping against the cover. He was lost in thought somewhere, you just didn’t know where.

“Spence,” you managed to croak through your dry throat. His eyes shot up from the page, lips turning up in a small smile when his gaze met yours.

“Hi,” he practically whispered.

“Is Kyle dead?”

Spencer hesitated, no doubt weighing the value of telling you the outcome now or waiting until you were better rested. He chose the former, shaking his head.

“I did what you would have done and shot him in the hip. He’s not dead, and once he’s healed he’ll go to trial. You did it, (y/n). You solved the case.”

“We solved the case. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You also wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“So?” you shrugged, “I lived. Where’s Garcia? Usually she’s the first one at the hospital.”

Spencer’s smile returned, “she wanted to but a case came in right right after you went into surgery. She sends her love and said she’d make up for not being here when we get back to Quantico.”

“A case? We should get back to help,” though you were exhausted, you brain immediately went into profiling mode.

“No, you’re going to stay here and rest. You should be staying for longer than you’re going to, but I was able to convince your doctor that I was more than capable of making sure you got home safely.”

“I didn’t realize you were a rule-breaker,” you teased, feeling your eyelids droop.

“I’m not, I just thought you would want to go home as soon as possible. You’re not the kind of person who likes being away from their family, and we’ve already been gone three days. Staying here doing nothing, although it would be good for you, would just torment you more.”

“Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, falling back to sleep. You dozed on and off for the better part of the day, Spencer staying by your side the whole time. Towards the end of the afternoon, you woke up to his seat vacant. The immediate panic you felt was squashed by calculated thoughts, he’s probably getting food or in the bathroom. You fought to stay awake while you waited for him to come back. He surprised you by returning with someone behind him.

“Mrs. Horn wanted to talk to you, if you’re feeling up for it,” he said, resuming his position in the chair next to you. You nodded, watching the older woman enter the room from where she had been standing in the doorway.

“I wanted to thank you for finding my daughter’s killer, even though it put you in the line of danger.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” you reassured her, sitting up a little against your pillows.

“I wish her father could have been here to see it solved. He always told me not to lose faith, that a blessing would come our way. You were our blessing,” she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“I was just doing my job, I’m sorry it took so long for someone to figure this out.”

Mrs. Horn tutted, telling you she was just glad that her daughter could rest in peace now. Before she left, she made sure to tell you that if you were ever in Illinois you and Spencer were welcome to come over for dinner, and that she hoped you got better quickly so you could go help other victims.

Once she was gone, your doctor came in to follow up with you. You had been shot in the side, the bullet passing through and exiting out of your back without hitting any major organs. Spencer did most of the talking for you, asking questions you couldn’t make sense of and checking over your chart for what was probably the hundredth time that day.

“You seem to be healing well and have a… knowledgable… support system, so I’m going to clear you for discharge. If anything changes you’ll need to go into the nearest hospital, ok?”

“Yes ma’am,” you answered. A nurse came in later with your discharge papers, which you signed before Spencer helped you in a wheelchair and out to where the SUV was parked.

“Are you sure you want to drive in this rain? I can-“ you winced in pain, hand flying to your side, “I can do it if you don’t feel comfortable.” Spencer stifled a laugh, reaching his hands out to give you something to brace yourself against as you moved from the wheelchair the SUV.

“I don’t mind driving,” he said simply.

“Yes you do,” you quipped quickly, exhaling as you settled into the passenger seat.

“Ok, yes. Under normal circumstances, I do mind driving, but I think I can make an exception when my favorite driver has been shot.”

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” you smirked, still struggling to breathe in a way that would make your side hurt less.

“Are you warm enough?” Spencer fiddled with the heating knobs once he was settled behind the wheel. You nodded, but the shiver that ran down your body betrayed you.

“You’re the one driving. I want you to be comfortable,” you mumbled.

“You’re the one who just got shot. Here,” he reached behind him into the back where both of your go bags were stored. He unzipped his own and pulled out a cardigan, then leaned over the console to drape it across you. “The wool will help you retain heat.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, relishing in the comfort of his gesture.

“You didn’t have to take that bullet for me.”

“I did. I pulled you into this mess, I wasn’t going to let you get hurt because of it.”

“Hotch sent me with you so that you wouldn’t get yourself hurt,” he rebutted.

You brushed him off, “I’ve been shot before, I’m going to be fine.”

“I’ve also been shot before, you didn’t have to push me out of the way.”

You were quick to counter, “you didn’t have to push Blake out of the way either.”

It was an unnecessary squabble, a fact you both caught onto quickly once you realized the direction the conversation was going. Instead, Spencer changed the subject to explain the history of the small towns you were passing through on your way to the interstate.

Miraculously, once the car was comfortably cruising on the highway, Spencer fell silent. You suspected it had to do with his intense concentration on driving in the elements as the rain got harder, though he also could have been giving you the space to sleep if you needed to.

It wasn’t until you were over an hour into your journey that he spoke again, after a quick glance at you revealed fresh tear tracks down your cheeks under the passing street lights.

“(Y/n), are you crying?” His question was so soft you almost missed it, “is it the pain? You’re not due to take your meds for another three hours but I know you have ibuprofen in your bag that would be ok to take now. I can pull over-“ his hand was about to move back to the steering wheel from where it had come to rest on the console, but you reached out to grab it instead.

You and Spencer didn’t really ‘do’ physical contact. You both had reasons not to, instead finding comfort just in proximity. As long as he was around, you were happy. This time, though, it was different. Maybe it was because you were touch starved, or because you had just been poked and prodded at all angles while in the hospital. Whatever the reason, the light grip you had on Spencer’s hand to stop him from pulling over was enough to make you feel the tiniest bit better. He was there with you, he was real.

“It’s not the pain,” you managed to hold your composure, knowing that letting any kind of sob escape the confines of your soul would only physically hurt you more.

“Are you tired? I drank enough coffee to get us home by morning but if you really need to sleep we can find a hotel somewhere. There are three off the next exit.”

“Spencer,” you ran your thumb over the prominent vein in his hand, “it isn’t something you can fix.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled, and by the way his hands were twitching you could tell he was deciding whether or not to stop the car anyways.

“There are hundreds of thousands of cold cases. Hundreds of thousands of families that don’t have closure. Hundreds of thousands of victims that haven’t gotten justice.”

“There’s one less because of you. You made a difference to Mia-Rose’s family, you got her the justice she deserves.”

“She deserved justice thirty years ago. I feel like the system failed her, the very system I work for. She was just a kid, and the answer was right there the whole time. Why did I have to be the one to figure it out, thirty years too late?”

Spencer’s response was soft and gentle, “because you’re exceptional, (y/n).”

“I didn’t have to be exceptional to solve this case, though. That’s what I’ve learned from all of the cold case documentaries I’ve watched. The ones that get solved are because someone knew what happened and didn’t come forward about it until years later. There was a psychopathic kid on the streets for thirty years because the police didn’t think to talk to Daniel Godfrey.”

“We can’t change what happened in the past, but we can make a difference in our futures.”

“I’m just so tired, Spence. I chose this job, I love this job, but it’s exhausting.”

“Then rest, (y/n). It’s ok if the only person you save some days is yourself.”

He was right, of course. You wanted to keep saving others, but you couldn’t do that if you didn't make time to save yourself too. You finally closed your eyes and pulled his cardigan up to your chin. Though you were still conscious, limiting your sensory input helped calm you down enough that you found yourself flitting in and out of dissociation. Even when Spencer’s hand gently moved out from under yours to answer his phone, you kept your eyes closed.

“Hey JJ,” his voice was quiet, barely audible over the rain pounding against the windshield, “they’re doing ok.” He paused while he listened to JJ’s response. “No, they keep reminding me that it’s not the first time they’ve been shot. I’m worried about them though.” He trailed off.

“They’ve been shouldering this burden of over 185,000 cold cases since we started working on this one, and now that it’s solved they’re finally feeling the weight of it. I don’t want them to drive themselves crazy trying to solve all of them on their own. We deal with enough active cases as it is.”

Though you were barely in a state of mind to process his words, he had hit the nail right on the head.

“How is the case you’re working on?” You presumed JJ was filling him in on what they knew, “have Garcia look into large purchases of triacetone triperoxide… Call me if anything changes. We should be back by morning.”

“Yes,” his change in tone indicated that JJ had asked him a question, “that would be great, JJ. Thank you so much.”

He must have hung up with JJ because his hand found yours again, fingers just barely touching. It was a simple action, loaded with a lot of meaning. Spencer was your best friend, and would always be your best friend. Bullets, cold cases, marriages, there was nothing that could break the bond you had with him.

You didn’t understand why people called their significant others their “better half”. It insinuated that you weren’t a whole person to begin with, a fractured existence that only found completion by the means of someone else. The idea that your life couldn’t be fulfilling until someone else made it whole was a concept that was set up for failure and self-loathing.

Instead, you believed that you were a whole person who could live a fulfilling life without the necessity of another. Instead, you surrounded yourself with people who lifted you up and helped you achieve your goals without being the direct cause of your success. Instead, you followed your dreams and somehow found Spencer Reid along the way.

Spencer was your best friend, your confidant, the one person who you knew you couldn’t live without, but he was not your other half. He was his own whole person, a mirror image of your own being. You found solace in his companionship, safety in the complexities of his brain. When the stress of your job got to be too much, you could reliably turn to each other and exist in the little slice of the world you called yours for a moment.

No, he was not your other half. He wasn’t even yours, for that matter, but he was there. He was there in a capacity that nobody else could achieve.

This is part of my GALAXY universe! If you liked this relationship, check out the MASTERLIST for more content!

Galaxy Taglist: @kermitsaysgayrights @niallthedancingharry @shadyladyperfection @thatsonezesty13 @lexshead @ceeellewrites @howdycharlie @girlycakepops @fantastic-fans @canimarrypizzaornah @daisyflower138 @dyingrexx @taylormobley @bazzleslynn @tj-drinks-tea @willa-wonky @eddiesbifocals @tee-mbrown @reniescarlett @bone-hurty-bitch @messyacademia

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #platonic imagine #platonic soulmates

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 18

Request: Yes or No

Also kind of short

You stared out at the river, fingers warm from the heat of the mug in your hands. You felt tired, empty, and disappointed. The roof was a nice place to sit and think. Your gaze dropped down to the ground below.

"I don't believe this is the safest way to test your abilities, (Y/N). Especially since Sam doesn't have on his wings." Vision said in concern, watching Sam hype himself up. You shook your head, laughing.

"It's definitely not safe." You grinned, watching Sam. He looked down from his spot on the roof, shaking off nerves.

"Run the idea by me again." Vision said as Wanda chuckled softly.

"Alright, Sam is gonna jump off the roof and I'm gonna use my powers to keep up in the air. If they don't work, Wanda will catch him."

"You're gonna allow this, Wanda?" Vision looked at the redhead. Wanda shrugged, sipping on her tea with a small smile.

"Ready?" Sam called, sliding down his googles. You nodded, backing up a bit, grinning widely. Sam backed up out of sight before running off the roof. You raised your hand, watching him suddenly fly up. He screamed, arms and legs flailing.

"You might gonna to catch him, Vis!" You called as Sam briefly disappeared past a cloud. Vision flew up, catching Sam and flying back to the ground. Sam raised a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as he panted.

"Again?"

"Again."

"Kind of chilly out here, don't you think?" You turned your head, looking at Tony. He took a seat beside you, sighing.

"So, how'd it go?" Tony asked, turning to look at you. You licked your lips, lightly shrugging as you sipped on your hot chocolate.

"Good. I learned a lot about my family. It was confirmed that, uh, I was indeed abandoned by my mother. It's great." You told him, giving a small nod. Tony hummed.

"It builds character." Tony said. You snorted, looking down at the hot chocolate.

"Yeah, I guess so." You muttered.

"What'd you learn?" Tony asked, watching you. You sighed, head tilting up. You stared at the passing clouds.

"That my dad was killed here... By.. The Winter Soldier." You breathed out. Tony stayed silent, frowning as he nodded.

"I.. I can't blame him. He was brainwashed and not in control. How did you react when you found out about Bucky and your parents?" You asked, looking at him. Tony licked his lips, looking away from you. He seemed to think about his words, eyes squinting slightly.

"I.. I was more hurt by Rogers than by what Barnes did. Rogers kept it from me and he never planned on telling me. Even if we didn't consider each other friends.. We were teammates. How was I supposed to be okay with trusting him with my life when he was never gonna tell me about my parents?" Tony frowned, sighing heavily. You bit your bottom lip.

"I'm sorry Steve betrayed you like that." You said softly. You wouldn't want to work with someone who betrayed you either. You took in a small breath, looking at him curiously.

"Do you think Steve knows? About my dad?"

"Unless Barnes saw some similarities between you and your dad, probably not. Your dad covered his tracks. He made sure he wouldn't be connected to his family. Very smart of him." Tony offered a small smile. You reached into your back pocket, taking out a photo. It was of the whole family. Your grandparents, Florine, Michael, and even Gerdie as a pup. You turned it around to the back, looking at the phone number.

'Call when you need me, kid'

"People really need to stop calling me kid." You mumbled, huffing softly. Tony chuckled.

"You look like one."

"Oh, fuck off, old man." You gave Tony a playful glare. He scoffed, touching his chest dramatically.

"Are you really gonna retire? I mean, at this point, you're asking to be called an old man." You pointed out, grinning when Tony rolled his eyes.

"Pepper and Morgan need me. I don't want to be an absent father. I know how it feels to have one and.. I don't want to be like my father. I won't make the same mistakes."

"You'll make new mistakes." You shrugged lightly. Tony shot you a look. "But I'm sure you're a great father!"

"Right." Tony grunted, shaking his head. You chuckled softly, placing your cup beside you. You inhaled softly.

"When I was drunk.. I vividly remembering saying that you suck before passing out. What happened?"

"Oh, you were a goddamn mess. Definitely an emotional drunk." Tony replied, making you groan softly, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"You said I was a lucky bastard and you cried.. You also kissed me." Tony looked at you, gaze searching for a reaction. Your lips parted, brows raising.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Uhm.." You licked your lips, straightening up and clearing your throat. You stayed silent, thinking of what to say in response.

"Pepper doesn't have to know. It was a drunk kiss that nobody really saw, right? I mean, I already have enough on my plate. I don't need an angry wife on top of that." You blurted out, shrugging lightly. Tony cleared his throat, nodding.

"Yeah, of course. It barely lasted a second." Tony looked forward, scratching the side of his neck. Awkward silence took over, both you and Tony unsure on how to proceed without making things even more weird.

"How are you?" Tony suddenly asked, turning towards you. "Like, in general."

"Terrible."

"Yeah, I feel that. Wanna... Wanna talk about it?" Tony asked. You stared at him, brows furrowing.

"Are you practicing on me for when Morgan needs a talk with you?" You questioned, head tilting slightly. Tony shrugged.

"Yes and no."

"That's nice." You huffed softly, gaze drifting towards the setting sun. You watched him, shoulders slumping.

"I feel.. Incredibly alone. Yeah, Nat is here but I can't rely on her. She has her own issues to deal with. Bruce... Bruce is god fucking knows where and if I tried talking to him, he'd probably just stand there. Clint is also god fucking knows where. Thor fucked off the moment they came back from killing Thanos. The outerspace crew is kind of weird. Steve is... Steve. He'd just give me a speech and a pat on the shoulder. Carol barely comes to Earth and she's also pretty intimidating." You licked your lips, shaking your head as you brought your knees up to your chest.

"The people I used to talk to have either.. Died or chosen to leave. I have to take care of a big ass fucking farmhouse cause its goddamn owner left! My life is slowly falling apart and I have to comfort myself cause nobody seems to care enough! I am so fucking tired of feeling tired. I thought I had found a family but I guess I'm not good enough for those." You raised your voice, feeling the wind get harsh for a quick minute. You let out a deep breath, eyes shutting to keep the tears from falling. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders, gently leaning you against a warm body. You sniffle, a shakey sigh leaving you.

"And I am so tired of crying." You whispered. Tony gently leaned his head against yours, hand squeezing your arm.

"I know.. I'm sorry." He said quietly. You relaxed against him, feeling numb and empty. You looked down at the photo. You wondered if this was the life Michael had wanted for you. To be a hero to a planet missing fifty percent of its inhabitants.

"You know what might make you feel better?" Tony asked.

"What?" You sat up, using the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose as you sniffled. Tony stood, motioning for you to follow. He offered his hand, watching you pick up the mug. You took his hand, holding it as Tony led you off the roof and down the stairs. You placed the mug on the nearest table, letting him guide you outside and onto the field. You stood in the middle, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"Letting it out." He finally answered, letting go of your hand and taking some steps back. He raised his arms.

"Let it out. Scream, kick, punch, curse. Let it all out." Tony said, smiling widely. You sniffled, still unsure.

"C'mon, I'll do it with you. On a count of three, okay? One... Two... Three!" You inhaled with Tony, eyes shutting as you screamed as loud as you could. You heard Tony chuckle in amazement, opening your eyes. You noticed he had been knocked down onto the grass, the trees nearby having been bent back by the wind. The grass around your feet were burned and gray clouds had formed in the sky. You noticed Tony looking up at something behind you so you turned, blinking and slowly looking up at the large ice spikes that almost reached the clouds.

"Holy shit." You whispered, taking a step back.

"You're still on the tip of the iceberg with your powers, Elsa." Tony said, getting up as it began to thunder. You felt some weight off your chest, turning to face you.

"You know.. That actually did help." You chuckled, smiling gently.

"Well, I am a genius." Tony replied, digging into his pocket and pulling out car keys.

"I should get going. Pepper's cooking dinner and I don't want to miss it." Tony said. You nodded, walking with him towards the road. A sports car drove out of the garage, stopping infront of Tony.

"All my things have already been sent home." Tony said, looking at you. You hummed, nodding.

"You can be an asshole sometimes but.. You'll be missed." You told him softly. Tony gave a genuine soft smile.

"You should visit, kid. You might like my new place." Tony said, opening the door and getting in.

"Give me a call and I'll visit when I can." You said, watching him buckle up. Tony nodded, sliding on sunglasses.

"I'll be seeing you."

"Not really looking forward to it." You replied, hearing a small snort before the car drove off. You watched it go, sighing softly. You looked over at the spikes, licking your lips.

"What more can I do?"

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

151 notes · View notes

imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 5/?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name ( your best friend’s name)

Part 5! This is going well, I think, I hope you like it :)

So last night, I finished two parts to this series, and guess what? Turns out when Tumblr glitches you have no rights and suddenly all your work is gone! If you need me, I’ll be crying in my writer’s corner

Warnings: Swearing, Trauma, Family Issues, Left on a cliffhanger lol :) sue me, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Down girl, you’ve been on two dates, did he even open up to you fully? A/N texted back to Y/N, who took a quick break to the bathroom to compose herself and fix her hair after Jason, the man she was casually seeing, opened up to her about his father and his father’s criminal record as well as his mother and his mother’s passing.

Yes he opened up to me! But we’ve been spending all day flirting and I told him about how my father is an immigrant and how I tell everyone I am legally a bastard, and I just don’t know, is it too soon to say I like him?

Go get him, Girl. Go get him.

In the other room, Jason was hastily texting his brother Dick, who has been in a relationship with Barbara for a while now, and is deeply committed to her. So, he needed advice.

How did I know when to kiss Barbara? Do you want to kiss Y/N? Dick asked back to Jason.

Yes I want to kiss her you idiot, but when do I do it? We’ve only been on two dates.

Why don’t you take her to a fancy restaurant out of the city where you aren’t being watched constantly and she isn’t flipping off the paparazzi, and then do it? Also, Bruce thinks her flipping off the pap twice is very funny, shockingly.

As soon as he received that text, she walked back out of the bathroom, this time, letting her hair down out of the bun it is usually in.

“You look nice with your hair down, Y/N.”

“You think so? I usually have it down when I don’t have classes.”

“I do think so.”

“Well, thank you, Jason,” she purred, sitting back down in her chair, opposite him.

“Bruce saw your shenanigans with the pap, he apparently thinks it’s funny.”

“Your family is checking in on you? Can’t they trust me?” she said, in a completely sarcastic tone.

“Well, I was just bragging about how lovely I find you.”

“Kind of you to do so, Jason,” she placed her hands on his and had to lift herself up slightly to lean into him, not to kiss him or anything, but to be closer to him.

“Your love language is physical attention,” he smirked at her, “I can tell by how you grab me, Y/N.”

“Don’t psych me out now, we’re having fun!” she whisper-yelled at him.”

“I do it when I’m nervous,” he assured.

“What’s there to be nervous of?” she asked.

“The pretty girl leaning into my face making moves on me?”

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” he grinned, “no chance I want you to stop.”

And then his phone rang. He picked it up to hear a very panicked Bruce on the other end,

“Jason, here, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

He hung up and grabbed her hands and leant in, like he was going to kiss her, but only rest his forehead against hers,

“This has been lovely, really, but that was Bruce and he needs me, I’m sorry,” he whispered down to her.

“I understand, we can always go on more dates.”

“I hope we do, see you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Jason.”

And he left. But there was something about the furniture in the house after he left, it smelled like him. Not in a weird way where she was obsessed with it, but she associated the smell with the feeling of riding through the city and the back roads like no one was watching, the feeling of being free, the feeling of being unstoppable.

And that, that was the beauty of the chase, the beauty of what she wanted, to be free, gone from her parents, gone from her twin sister, free.

But, she went to bed that night without even going to her car to pick up her notes. She did have class tomorrow, but it wasn’t criminal psych. It was regular psych. Which she wasn’t stoked for, that’s for damn sure.

-----------------------

Waking up, she opened her phone at around 5am to see a text from Jason,

You know, I always wanted to try some restaurants in Metropolis, I know you don’t like it, but I know the press doesn’t follow me there. What do you say? (Yes I know it’s 3am I’ll tell you all about what happened and why I’m awake so late later lol)

She thought about it, scared that her parents would see her walking around with this guy they didn’t know. Fuck it, she thought, I only live once.

Jason, I would love to. And I hope that story is a good one.

He almost immediately shot back, Mornin’ and yeah, it is. Do you have class today? I can come get you from your’s and pick you up from class if you need it, I swear you won’t have to ride the motorbike in your home city.

I do have class, and you don’t have to but my class is at 3pm again if you’re willing.

Meet up at 12 and talk for a while? Might be fun.

My roommate will be here, though.

Well, you already inadvertedly met my best friend, remember the baker? His name’s Will Harper. I called in a quick favor to impress you and he’s a sucker for a good romance story.

Well, he seemed nice, and yeah, if you want to meet my roommate you can come over, Jason.

You can call me Jay if you want to, Y/N.

I gotta shower now, Jason, but I figured nick names would come out in time.

She put down her phone and went to shower.

-----------------------------------

“Mornin’ A/N.”

“Y/N,”, she greeted happily, “the coffee’s already brewed by the way.”

“God I love you,” she blurted out.

“Yeah yeah, tell me the drama, did you guys have sex?”

“No, but he’s coming over today to meet you slash talk to me before taking me to class and then driving himself and I to Metropolis for dinner.”

“Escaping the cameras to go to the city that has your parents?” A/N questioned, seeming concerned.

“I know, I know, but I only live once and I doubt we’ll see them. If we do, I might just call him my boyfriend to get it over with. Have to talk to him about that though.”

“Honestly, have you told him how insane your parents are?”

“That’s what I’m planning on doing today, A/N.”

“Don’t scare him off, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed and she went to go get her notes from last night, it was around 11:50am, so she knew that Jason would be here any minute, but she needed to get those notes into her room, she was right about Jason when he pulled down the street in a Porsche. Pulling into her driveway, Y/N waved at Jason while finishing to pull out her books from her beat up car. Quite the difference from the Porsche and her car, but she only noticed it for a few seconds before both doors slammed, in sync.

“Well, that was timed perfectly,” she said to Jason when he met up with her at her car.

“Wow, we’re magicians,” he joked, “Do you need help?” he asked.

“No, no, I can handle it myself, thank you.”

“Well, it doesn’t kill me to ask, you’re going to need help with that door though,” he mused.

“Oh no, you underestimate me, I can open doors with my hips, and I think I didn’t shut the door the whole way so I could do this easier,” she laughed and began to lead him up the driveway, like she had done last night before he ran off with Bruce.

“Thinking ahead?”

“Something I clearly didn’t do when saying we could go to Metropolis, I’ll admit.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have time to talk about it later, Jay, are you however, ready to meet my roommate?”

“No, but you only live once, Y/N.”

“You won’t die, I promise,” she said as she nudged the door open with her hip and greeted A/N, “Hey girl! This is Jason, entertain him while I file notes, maybe, I swear I’ll speed run it.”

“Entertain him? Are you serious? He’s your guest!” she joked.

“Hey thanks man really appreciate it,” Y/N joked before hastily walking towards her bedroom, this was obviously a song and dance they had done with A/N’s lover, so Y/N shot it back at A/N.

“Jason.”

“A/N, right?”

“Yes, sir, how are you today?”

“I’m good, was that a fight?” he questioned.

“No, don’t worry, it’s just the way I acted when I first brought my partner, person, thing, over. She’s just being spiteful. Trust me, if it was a fight, there’d be a lot more of a screaming match.”

“Well, that’s reassuring, I think.”

“So, Jason, do you like her?” she asked.

“We’ve been on back-to-back dates since Sunday, A/N,” he paused, “I really do.”

“Well, it is not like I am going to sit here and be like ‘Oh you can’t date her!’ and feign being upset about this, I mean it’s been 2 dates and you’re going on a third, if that’s not leading towards seriousness, I don’t know what is,” she assured him. He seemed to like this.

“How much has she told you? My secrets or anything?”

“God no, you’ll tell me those with time when we’re friends.”

“Well, I hope you’re a good friend to Y/N and myself, in the future, then.”

“The future is just around the corner. Don’t let Y/N escape you. She’s a catch,” she finished as Y/N reentered the room,

“Did you two have fun?” Y/N asked.

“I think we did,” Jason said.

“We did,” A/N assured, “you two can go to her room now, I’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worried you weren’t going to be, you always are.” Y/N said to A/N before grabbing Jason’s hand and taking him to her room. He hadn’t been in her room yet.

It was kind of a mess, I mean it wasn’t like they had a maid and they’re both broke college/university students. Notes were strewn across her desk, but that was expected with such a high-study class, the one they met in.

“You clearly like the colour red,” Jason said, pointing to the obvious red feature wall, grinning.

“Well, I told my sister to design my room last time she was over and she picked it based off of the criteria I gave her, she’s going to be an interior designer, and red was one of the colours I gave her,” Y/N said with a sigh, “That’s kind of the thing we need to talk about, my family,” she sighed again, “They are, special, to say the least.”

“Well, so is mine.”

“Yeah but,” she sat on her bed and he joined her, “My family is quite, how do you say it, Christian? They’re very hard to impress and if they see me running around the city with you they might expect you to be my boyfriend, not the guy I’ve known for 3 days and went on back-to-back dates with,” she rambled, “ Not that they wont like you! They’re just traditional, and I’m not and it drives a slight wedge between us,” she paused to look at him, “This is just a really long-winded warning about only a chance to meet them,” she finished.

“Well, that doesn’t scare me. You would understand why if you knew the Waynes, not that they’re traditional, they too, are just hard to impress,” he assured.

“Probably shouldn’t have flipped off the paparazzi then, honestly.”

“No, Bruce found that funny. And about last night, my brother, Damien, he’s the youngest Wayne and one of the only not-adopted ones, being 3 not adopted ones,” he paused, “Anyway, he broke his leg playing office chair racing in the Manor, and I needed to go to Bruce to get yelled at for bringing up the idea,” he laughed, “Bruce then told me after that if he was invited I wouldn’t have been yelled at,” he paused, “That was fun.”

“So, very posh and pristine family, and one of you broke your leg roughhousing in a very expensive Manor?”

“Only in Wayne Manor would that be a sentence.”

“Seems like you have your hands tied with your family,” she joked.

“I wouldn’t if the idiots stopped hurting themselves playing games when I’m on dates,” he retorted and laughed with Y/N.

It seemed crazy that these two would meet, since so many factors played into it, but she swore God saw the potential for this to happen and said, This, this deserves a shot to shine. And she was grateful. She didn’t exactly believe in God, but if God sent her this boy, she might change her mind on going to church with her parents when they invite her.

And that’s the beauty in the mystery, the beauty in the ‘Positive’ they claimed after not knowing what to do next but still powering through to go on dates, and they had gone on enough dates and spent at least 1 third of the last 3 days with each other. That was impressive. That was a good sign and they both knew it.

The next step was packing a few bags and going on 24 hour dates in the cities, but they weren’t ready for that yet. They both thought a first kiss would be better before that. Luckily, Jason wanted to kiss her today, and she wanted to kiss him today.

Before they knew it, they were in the Porsche driving through the streets she describes all-too well, blasting songs and screaming lyrics with Jason, a song stuck out and that was the Annapantsu’s Smooth Criminal Rendition with Caleb Hyles. Since the rendition had a multitude of riffs that Y/N adored, she would scream it and Jason would continue the male parts. It was peaceful yet the most high-pressure intense situation she had felt in a while.

--------------------------------

Getting out of class, she somehow avoided the paparazzi she had grown somewhat accustomed to over the days she had known Jason, she got back into the Porsche before they noticed she was even there, but then they noticed, and Jason fucking floored it to the streets and out of there.

He dropped her off at her place to get ready for an expensive dinner with him in Metropolis. She thought long and heard about what to wear to her date, but in the end, she decided on a nice pink dress her mother had bought for her back in Metropolis. She had told her daughter, Only wear this on a date with a man you think is endgame, now, she didn’t know if Jason was endgame, but she did want to put all the energy she could into the universe to make him worthwhile.

(This is the first time I’m going to include pictures! I think I’m getting the hand of Tumblr now hehe :) )

(If the skin tone doesn’t match your own, because you’re darker or paler, just imagine it’s yours :) you’re all beautiful in your own right and I’ll use pictures with varying skin tones as I progress the story)

She gave a little twirl in her mirror before taking a quick picture to send to one of her other class friends, who was wondering how things were going with Jason at the time. Her name was Artemis Crock, she knew that Art and Jason were friends, but she also liked Artemis Crock a lot, thinking that they were likely going to be good friends.

You’re going to make him swear up and down to Will that he is ‘Only seeing you casually’ while Will says he’s in love with you, you’re killing it. She shot to Y/N.

Y/N smiled and left her bedroom to go meet up with A/N, who wanted to make sure the dress she was wearing was cute, and it was,

“Holy shit! I said look cute, not make him your bitch, Y/N!”

“Potato, Potahto,” she laughed, “You really think I look worthy of a Wayne?”

“You always do, but you didn’t have to go THIS hard to prove a point. Only one tabloid said you weren’t enough for him,” she paused and Y/N thought about that tabloid, it upset her, sure. But she was completely aware that spite was going to fuel many of her next moves in the press, “Just the one tabloid.”

“And the one tabloid is enough to make me spiteful. Fuck them tabloids, girl, they can suck it,” she said.

“I don’t think Jason would appreciate if the tabloids blew you,” she joked.

“You don't know that, A/N,” she retorted.

“Do you know that?” A/N said as the doorbell rang, “I’m assuming that’s for you, have fun!” A/N said and waved as Y/N waved back and walked to answer the door. Yep, it was Jason.

“Woah,” he said, mouth agape, when she answered the door.

“Close your mouth, Romeo. You’ll attract flies,” she joked.

80 notes · View notes

solinarimoon · 3 years

Text

Fields of Wildflowers - Chapter 10

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: Did I google common trees in Anglo-Saxon England for this chapter. Yes I did. Did I end up using white willow because it is associated with mourning and sadness. Yes I did. Also, I love the aesthetic of a willow tree. If you want to read previous chapters, you can do so here. Or if you want to read my other works, you can do so here.

Warnings: Some light sexual content, mostly fluff and some angst (does this count as angst or is it just sad? Let me know!)

Word Count: 3,810

The next morning Cwen found herself wrapped in Sihtric’s embrace, covered by a blanket he kept on his horse along with a bedroll. The mare was grazing nearby in the clearing. Cwen watched her for some time. The edge of the clearing was littered with wildflowers, reds and blues and yellows. The sun breaking through the branches of the trees made for a serene morning.

Cwen breathed in a contented sigh and pulled Sihtric’s arm closer around her. She brought up his hand to meet her lips as she kissed his knuckles.

Behind her, Cwen heard Sihtric begin to stir, moaning low in his throat.

Slowly, Sihtric pulled his lips away to rest his forehead against hers.

“How are you feeling this morning? Are you sore at all?”

“Truthfully?” Cwen questioned while meeting his eyes. When he did not respond, she continued. “I am a bit sore. But I am also serenely happy. It is like a dull ache that reminds me of your touch,” she finished while breaking his gaze and feeling a rush of heat settle across her cheeks.

Cwen felt Sihtric’s hand shift from her hip to tilt her chin up so she met his eyes again.

“You, my lady, are an amazing woman,” he breathed as he brought his lips to meet hers once more. This kiss was filled with gentle adoration, as his hand slid around her throat and to the back of her neck. Cwen whimpered when he pulled away.

“After last night, it really is a laugh for you to call me a lady, Sihtric. I am sure everyone has noticed our absence. I can only imagine what Lady Aethelflaed will think.” Cwen’s voice wavered slightly with anxiety. Sihtric sat up and held his hand out to bring Cwen to sit next to him as he replied to her worries.

“With the way she conducts herself with Lord Uhtred, she would not dare to make judgements. And you are a lady, Cwen, my lady. I have already told you this. Lying with you last night was real. It was pure. It does not matter that we are not husband and wife. Not to my mind.”

Sihtric began removing the blanket and reaching to gather their clothes, when Cwen placed her hand on his arm to stop him.

“It does not matter to me either, Sihtric. Last night was…” Cwen paused and lowered her eyes as she searched for the right words.

“I gave every piece of myself to you last night, Sihtric. But….I do not know how to be like this with you. I have never been like this with anyone. But I know that last night felt right. It felt like you are where I am supposed to be. I hope that does not scare you,”

But her words were cut off as she found Sihtric’s kiss searing her own lips once more.

“Did I not tell you that you are my future, woman? That my roads will lead me to you? Your words do not scare me.” Cwen stared at Sihtric as his lips broke into the grin she had grown to adore. She felt her own mouth twist into a broad smile before she pecked his lips once more.

“Let us dress and return. I must find Lady Aethelflaed and check on Aelfwynn. I was only meant to have a few days reprieve from my duties. And given the changes in political power, I am sure much else has shifted as well.”

Sihtric rose to gather their clothes. As he passed Cwen her garments, he pondered, “I must find Uhtred as well.”

The rest of his thoughts did not need to be spoken. He must learn what his lord's plans were now that he is not the lord of Mercia.

As they rode back to the borough, Cwen’s mind wandered. Where would Uhtred take his men now? And what did this future look like for Mercia? Cwen hugged Sihtric’s arm close and leaned her body into his chest, his strength and warmth bringing her racing mind some peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cwen found herself rushing across the lawn to meet with Lady Aethelflaed and Aelfwynn. It had been incredibly kind of Aethelflaed to allow her time off from her duties. Cwen did not want to take advantage of that kindness.

The skirt of her dress rustled and tangled between her legs, slowing her movements. And occasionally, the heavy fabric would brush along the inside of her thigh or graze her center causing ripples of a dull ache. Reminding her of the feel of Sihtric. The weight of his body on hers. His hand exploring her. His length pressing into her. Again, Cwen was taken aback at how deeply and intensely she found herself falling for the Dane. Not only how much she cared for him, but how much she yearned for his touch. Desired to feel him possess her again.

Cwen slowed her paces and attempted to control her breathing, which had become quite labored. Both from her hurried gate and from her wandering mind.

When she looked up, Cwen saw Aethelflaed sitting on the bench underneath the tree where the children were swinging. Wyllath sat next to the Lady of Mercia watching the children.

“Lady Aethelflead,” Cwen called as she approached, “ I hope I have not deferred my duties for Aelfwynn for too long. I apologize, my lady.”

Rising to meet her, Aethelflaed quieted Cwen’s fears. “Nonsense, Cwen. I gave you time off. There is no need to worry.”

“But my lady, so much has changed. And I did not come to check in with you as I should have after Lord Uhtred,” but her words were cut short as she noticed a pained expression on Aethelflaed’s face.

Cwen took her lady’s arm and they walked several paces away from the tree.

“You are right, dear Cwen. Everything has changed. And not only for myself, but for all of Mercia. For those close to me.” “For Uhtred,” Cwen answered when Aethelflaed paused to brush away a stray tear.

Cwen had seldom seen her lady cry. The Lady of Mercia was solid and austere. Cwen admired her friend for those qualities.

“Yes, for Uhtred. But I fear for you things must change as well, my friend.”

The pair continued to walk arm in arm and Cwen turned her eyes to look at Aethelflaed.

“What do you mean, for me, my lady?”

“I must dismiss you from my daughter’s service, Cwen.” Aethelflaed had stopped and placed her hand atop Cwen’s own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Cwen found she could not comprehend the shock of Aethelfaed’s words. A rock formed in the pit of her stomach.

“Why, lady?” was the only response Cwen could utter.

“Do not think it is because you have displeased me. Or Aelfwynn. I value you and your service to my daughter deeply, Cwen.” Aethelflaed paused to turn her eyes back towards the children and Wyllath.

“Were it not for you, she might not be here with me now. But it does not change what must be done.”

Returning her eyes to meet Cwen’s questioning gaze, she continued “my reasoning is two fold. The first is that Mercia is fragile. There are still many who feel ill at ease with me holding the throne. Many who distrust me and my loyalty to Mercia. I must find ways to increase their trust.”

“And I am not Mercian,” Cwen finished for her friend.

Aethelflaed nodded and then continued, “True, my friend. It is no secret that you have been in my household since we were children. That you are loyal to me. Wyllath is of Mercia and her family is well known and respected. And I know you trust her with Aelfwynn. So knowing that both you and myself trust her gives me further comfort.”

“Then your second reason, my lady?” Cwen asked, struggling to keep back the tears she felt welling in her eyes. The rock in her stomach had traveled to sit in her throat.

“The second reason concerns matters of the heart. And words I overheard you speaking to Finan outside my room.”

Cwen stared mouth agape at Aethelflaed.

“Sihtric is a good man. He has served Lord Uhtred faithfully for many years. And if I had not heard your words to Finan, about your feelings for the man, then I also have eyes. You are dear to him. Finan is right, a person would need to be blind to not see that. I have given up my chance for a life that includes the love of a good man. I will not hold another from that life along with me. I would not be the cause to keep others from finding love.”

Cwen could not stop the tears that pooled and fell past her lashes. Instead, she closed her eyes and turned to face away from the children and from Aethelflaed. She felt her companion patting her arm gently.

“Please know that I am not doing this because of any displeasure with you, Cwen. I will miss you dearly.”

Wiping away her tears, Cwen answered with a shaky breath, “I have only ever known a home inside your household, my lady. I love Aelfwynn and you.”

“I know. And I will always do whatever is in my power to help you, if ever you need it. But this is how it must be. And I am sorry.”

Aethelflaed was stoic. She was strong. And she was honest. It was these qualities that Cwen admired in her and what Cwen knew would help her be a great ruler. It was what a ruler needed to be.

Aethelflaed wiped the remaining tear from Cwen’s face and gave her friend a forceful hug.

“Please go say goodbye to Aelfwynn. Unless plans have changed, Uhtred and his men will be leaving to escort my mother back to Winchester by tomorrow. I know you will want to speak with Sihtric. And I need to have words with someone else in a moment. Thank you, Cwen. For my daughter.”

Cwen walked over to give Aelfwynn and Aethelstan. The children got off their swings and came to her side. Cwen sank to her knees and gave them both crushing hugs. After several moments, sniffling and wiping tears, Cwen stood and suggested they return to swinging before she left. She pushed them on their swings and tried to smile and laugh with them. But inside her mind was a tempest.

After a short while, Eadith met her and the children as well. The two women took turns pushing the children on their swings and talking with them about whatever new ideas had garnered their young minds attention. But neither of the smiles on the young women’s faces reached their eyes.

After a short while, Wyllath and Aethelflaed came to bring the children inside for their midday meal.

Aelfwynn wrapped her small arms around Cwen’s torso and whispered, “I will miss you, Cwen.”

Kissing the top of her head and enveloping her in a hug, Cwen found the lump in her throat returned.

Through choked breaths, Cwen was able to reply, “I will miss you too, my little bird. But we will see each other again. I just won’t be in charge of keeping your days exciting any longer.”

Aelfwynn turned her head up to look at Cwen who tapped the tip of her nose with a finger.

“Now run along and listen to your mother and to Wyllath.”

“I love you, Cwen,” Aelfwynn whispered while snuggling close once more before she ran off to join her mother.

“I love you too, sweet child,” Cwen said as she watched the children retreat back indoors.

Eadith came to stand next to her and took her arm in her own.

“I know why I am sad, but I do not understand your tears, my friend.”

“Lady Aethelflaed has dismissed me from her service.”

Eadith turned to face Cwen, a look of shock and dismay across her face.

“I can understand, although it pains me, why Aethelflaed should dismiss me. But for heaven’s sake, why you? Did she say?”

“She wishes to garner favor and loyalty from the other Mecian families. And she aims to do so by keeping her household filled with those Mercian’s she trusts. Wyllath is from Mercia, while I traveled with Aethelflaed years ago from Wessex.”

“I learn more and more how shrewd and intelligent our Lady of Mercia is. But I am sorry to see her tactics hurt you so. What will you do?”

“I do not know. Truthfully, I do not have a clue. And the lady gave a second reason that brings more worry than the first.”

The women had been walking arm in arm across the lawn towards a great white willow tree. Once tucked underneath the massive branches, Cwen reachedup to grasp one of the sweeping strands of leaves, letting her mind wander to Sihtric.

“Well, Cwen?” Eadith asked. “What was Lady Aethelflaed’s other reason?”

“She says she would not see me forswear the life and love of a good man.”

Eadith’s face broke into a knowing smile. “She means she would not see you parted from Sihtric?”

Cwen nodded, turning to face her friend.

“Well that is a silver lining, isn’t it? To be unencumbered and able to be with the man you desire?”

“It should be, yes. But I can not help feeling this impending dread. I do not want Sihtric to feel trapped by me. After last night,” Cwen’s cheeks grew hot and she paused.

“Last night?” Eadith smirked at Cwen. “Your absence last night was noted. Both of yours. I had meant to ask for any new...developments for you but well… then I spoke with Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Well, yes. I would guess that your assumptions about our absence last night are correct, Eadith.” Cwen paused to sit down leaning against the large trunk of the tree. She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around herself and feeling tears threatening to fall once more.

“He confessed that I am his future, Eadith. But that was with the knowledge that he could leave me, knowing I was unable to follow. I cannot help but to worry that his words will change now that circumstances are what they are.”

Eadith gasped at her friend's words.

“I can not imagine that Sihtric would change his words. If anything he will be elated. The man is in love with you, Cwen.”

“You cannot know that, Eadith.”

“Why do you mistrust it?”

“In truth, I can not even say what makes me hesitate to believe he would want me now. I have never felt this way or been shown affection like this in my life. It scares me.”

“Well that I can understand. It is new and exciting and that can be scary. Love can be like that.”

Eadith wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders and the two young women sat in silence for some time. Both minds occupied with thoughts of uncertain futures, but taking solace from shared time together.

Some time later, Eadith excused herself to go speak with Uhtred and ask for passage with them to find safe route to Winchester and a new path in life.

“You should speak with Sihtric. Come with us.”

With those parting words, she left the gentle embrace and solitude of the willow leaving Cwen alone with her thoughts. Cwen’s enture world had shifted from underneath her. She was in free wall and terrified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sihtric found her, she was still curled up underneath the arms of the willow tree.

He took a seat next to her and she leaned her head on his shoulder while he took her hand to bring to his lips.

“Eadith told us about you both. She will be traveling with us to Winchester.”

“So Uhtred’s path takes you all to Winchester then?”

“For now. We are to escort Alfred’s widow and Aethelstan there.”

Lifting her head to look at SIhtric, Cwen remarked, “Aethelstan? He goes to Winchester?”

“So it would seem.”

“But he can not!” She cried out. “It is too dangerous for him there. He is the king’s bastard! He will be ever a target.” Cwen stood up and began pacing back and forth, ringing her hands.

“What is Lady Aelswith thinking? We’ve all done so much to keep him out of the way and safe.”

Sihtric rose and stood in front of Cwen, placing his hands on her shoulders, stilling her movements.

“From what Uhtred has told us, Lady Aelswith has asked us to bring them there safely so she can be in charge of his upbringing.”

“Does the king want him there? Will he give him his protection?”

“I do not know, my lady. All I know is that is where we go.”

Cwen stopped her worried fidgeting and looked into Sihtric’s face. His eyes were watching her once more.

“I love these children, Sihtric. I do not know what I am meant to do now. I have been in service to Aethelflaed’s household for my entire life. Wherever she was has been my home. I have lost my home,” Cwen’s voice broke.

Sihtric wrapped his arms around her as she allowed the tears she had been unsuccessfully trying to stave off all day to finally fall freely.

Slowly, Cwen’s sobs faded as Sihtric’s hands stroked gentle lines along her back.

“Look at me, Cwen.”

His hands cupped her cheeks and she tilted her head to meet his gaze.

“Come with us to Winchester. And then we can figure this out from there. Together. Come with me. Find your home with me.” His voice was solid. Sure.

“Sihtric,” Cwen started.

“Please don’t say no. I know that your heart is hurting.,” But Cwen cut off his words this time.

“Sihtric, do you know why Aethelflaed dismissed me?”

When he did not reply, she continued, “the first reason is because she is forging ways to build trust and respect with the rest of the Mercian lords. And the second is because,” Cwen paused, turning her gaze down to focus on the hammer amulet resting on his chest. She gathered her courage, taking a breath.

Sihtric waited silently. He never pushed her. Always patient and never harrying her along.

Once she found the courage, Cwen continued, “Lady Aethelflaed overheard me speaking with Finan. About my feelings for you. She heard me tell him of my trust in you. To be gentle with my heart, with my love.” Cwen’s words came fast and rambling now that she had started speaking. “She told me that knowing of our feelings for one another, she could not bear the thought of depriving another of a chance for happiness. For love. As she has denied herself that chance now.”

Cwen stopped, eyes still staring at the silver hammer. The lump that kept catching in her throat this day had once again found itself lodged in place. Her heart beat furiously, waiting to hear a reply from this man she had fallen so deeply for.

“But I fear I can not ask this of you, Sihtric,” Cwen spoke hurriedly, for fear that she would not get the words out any other way. “I do not wish to trap you or force your hand. Before, you knew that you would be leaving and I would not. I can not ask you to,”

“Hush now,” Sihtric quieted her. “Do you think my words in the clearing were just pretty lies? Would it help to know that my feelings for you began in the field of wildflowers outside Saltwic? That it was there that I learned of the woman you are. I learned the nature of your heart and your mind. It was then that I fell in love with you.”

Sihtric searched her face before he continued, emphasizing his words carefully.

“You, Cwen, are my future. All my roads will lead me to you. And I know that your heart is breaking over leaving Aelfwynn, but,” he let out a soft laugh, “the selfish bastard in me could kiss Lady Aethelflaed for her decision. Because it frees you to make your own road.”

Sihtric dropped his head to rest against her brow and breathed in the scent of her.

“So come with me, Cwen. Be my woman.”

Cwen’s heart filled with adoration at his words. Tears spilled from her eyes once more, but from an entirely and wholly different emotion. She brought her hand up to trace the markings on his amulet and smiled.

“You love me?”

“Yes, my lady,” he smiled while he tipped her chin up so he could meet her eyes.

Cwen’s smile split her face with joy.

“I am your woman, Sihtric. You have all of me now and all of my future,” she repeated the words she had told him in the clearing.

Sihtric wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground and crashing his lips to hers.

The lovers could not contain their smiles and broke the kiss laughing at themselves.

“But we still have so much to discuss and to plan,” Cwen began.

“Later, my lady. For now, knowing you are mine and will be riding with me is all I need. The rest will come later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued….

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#sihtric x oc #sihtric #the last kingdom #fields of wildflowers #fanfiction

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theresnosafeharbor4myships · 3 years

Text

Ichabbie ways of saying ‘I love you’

“Our fates are intertwined now. Running away isn't going to change that.”

“I do take comfort knowing that this strange road we find ourselves on can only be traveled together.”

“So if she dies in the dream...” "She dies. Period." "I see." *Ichabod marches over and drinks a concoction. "Crane!" .... "What are you thinking?" "Well, i'm coming with you now, so no point in discussing it."

“Believe me when I say that you belong in Sleepy Hollow. In the here and now.”

“You are home, Crane.”

“I look forward to you expanding my horizons further.”

“You know how important Crane is.” “To you?” “Yeah, to me.”

“Through these centuries, against the impossibility that we would find each other, we did. And I am most grateful for it.”

“Perhaps it would be easier if you left.” “There's no way. Too many people I never got a chance to say goodbye to. You are not gonna be one of them.”

“You were right. There's always another way.”

“Next time listen to me, okay? I can't go through that again.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I feel pretty alone sometimes too.” “Perhaps this is the sacrifice that witnesses must carry. all we really get is one another.”

“Your company holds the greatest value to me.”

*lifts glass in a toast* “To family.” “To finding family.”

“If using this map meant betraying your trust, that's something I cannot do.” *burns the map “For the world. For our friendship. You and I will choose our own destiny. We have free will. I choose to forge my fate with you.”

“When I remembered you, I saw this world for what it truly is.”

“I swear to you, for as long as I can draw breath--” “Our work is not done. You will come back for me. That I know.” *precious Ichabbie hug “Remember our bond. I'll come back for you.”

“I just...I don't think I would've made it without you, Crane.” “Nor I you, Lieutenant.”

“I promise you: I will return for you!”

*precious Ichabbie hug “Crane! You're alive.” “We are survivors, you and I.”

“Maybe you don't come back.” “And leave you here? No. Lieutenant, I do not accept good-bye.” “...we're fighting a war, crane. Coming back for me is a risk I cannot let you take.” “The Bible foretells two witnesses. You and I must remain together if there is any hope of victory. The only risk, Lieutenant, is in leaving you behind.” “No matter what I say, you're coming back, aren't you?” “I made a promise.”

“Hold fast, Abigail Mills. I'm on my way.”

“You never did tell me the full extent of your ordeal in that place.” “Truth is, it got to me. Everywhere I went, I felt it slowly clawing at my mind, my soul. You know what the worst part was? Seeing you.” “Must be why you beheaded me.” “That demon version of you appeared just when that place was about to break me. I'd never been so happy to see anyone in my life.”

“That's what scares me. My faith in you is my greatest weakness.” “That's what they want you to believe.”

“The only ones we can count on now are each other.”

“What matters now more than ever is that you and I stay true. Trust is the only currency with any value. All other forms are too easily counterfeited.”

“...but hear me, Grace Abigail Mills: it is not our fate for one of us to bury the other. We shall be victorious or defeated together.”

“I will be with you at every moment.”

“Our duty must be to one another before anything or anyone.”

“Of course I'm coming with you!”

“Be careful.” “You too.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. It is thru your eyes that I see myself most clearly.”

“I swear to you, his sacrifice will not be in vain.”

“No matter what obstacles we face, no matter how many disagreements we have, our bond cannot be broken.”

“Even in times of great peril, we could always rely on one another.”

“I'm glad I'm not in this alone.” “I echo that sentiment, Lieutenant.”

“We're partners. More than that, we're friends.”

“You knew I'd not survive without you.”

“No matter what the course of fate, and no matter how I get there, I look forward to experiencing your America. It will be a pleasure to make your acquaintance all over again, Miss Mills.”

“You know, Crane, you don't need some stone tablet to justify your place in the world. You belong here just as much as anyone else.”

“You were wrong when you said that Henry and Katrina's death meant that you were alone. You may not have family, but you are not alone.”

“Of course having you by my side is the greatest boon.”

“After you passed out, she showed up.” “Pandora? Did she harm you?”

“I'm most grateful, Lieutenant, that you and I have found one another once again.”

“We are a partnership of opposites, yet our affinity for one another bears the ripest of fruit.”

“You noted that I've been off my game of late. When I pledged my allegiance to this country in 1776, I had a very clear vision of what my future would hold. Nowhere in that vision did I imagine waking in the 21st century, and yet,,,more and more, I feel this desire to acculturate. But the idea of losing the archives, of losing my fight for citizenship for a country that I, in part, founded, the idea of losing you...to some wretched federal promotion to...I don't know, Dallas or Los Angeles or... Sometimes it seems as though the unbeatable enemy is the 21st century.” “Yeah, but the thing is, Crane, Joe, me, Jenny, we are the 21st century. And every day, we take you a step further in that direction. That is the unbeatable enemy beating itself. And we ain't goin' nowhere.”

“I'd like to think you and I have developed, over the years, Lieutenant.”

“With all respect to my fellow compatriot, Major Revere, your spirit and mine is made of far heartier stock. Hence our most impressive roster of victories. Tis because we care. Come what may.”

“You ready to fight some bad guys, Crane?” “Indeed.” “My man.”

“If the Lieutenant were here, she would say something tough yet encouraging. Of which I would wholeheartedly concur. She is very good at that.”

“This particular (monster) feeds off for desperation. The locator spell I cast must have brought it to the area. And it focused on me because of my... emotional state [from missing Abbie].”

“I have worked and fought alongside many people in my time. It was only recently that I truly understood what a partner is. What it means to have someone who makes you more than you are simply by being by your side. Truly your better half.”

“I will never cease my efforts to find the Lieutenant.”

“Our shared connection as witnesses means I am the Lieutenant's best chance.”

“Tis a relief to find you hale and hearty, Lieutenant. I knew you were alive.”

“Thank you, Crane, for never giving up on me.”

“I meant what I said before: you're always here. With me. Ever since we first met. There's no explaining it. Two people could not be any more different. But we work things out. Together.”

“Stay with me, Crane.”

“[He's] not alone. Not ever!”

“In the darkness. Lost. I heard your voice. I followed it.” “We made it.”

“You were my Wilson.”

“In all candor, Lieutenant, whilst you were away, I spent every waking hour endeavoring to bring you home. All other responsibilities fell by the wayside.”

“I'm trying really hard.” “And you will succeed. Just as you were by my side when I returned to Sleepy Hollow, so I shall be by yours.”

[Jenny to Crane] “You seem happier.” “Yes, I admit I do feel rather suffonsified. And your sister's mood appears to have taken a significant upturn of late.”

“I knew Crane was out there looking for me. I held on to that.”

“The supernatural has given you a lot of good too. It led you to Crane.”

“Lieutenant--” “Oh. Yes. I'm scared out of my mind of seeing that place again, and no, I'm not letting you go without me. Whatever you do, I do. That's the deal.” “Truth bomb if I ever heard one.”

“I prefer to focus on what we have, and I have a partner of the highest caliber.” “Better than Betsy Ross?” “Well, she was occasionally rather pushy. Prone to talking with a mouth full of food.” “George Washington?” “Well, now there was a great man. But a great man with legendary halitosis.” “I really beat those guys?” “Oh...handily.” “You...never waiver in your faith. In what we do. In me. And you know how rare that is, don’t you?” “When it concerns you and me, Lieutenant, there is no greater certainty.”

“I'm really going back there.” “Only this time you're not alone.”

#ichabbie #ichabbie moments #abbie x crane #abbie x ichabod #crane x abbie #ichabod x abbie #sleepy hollow #personal

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dawsons-justice · 3 years

Text

He Promised, You Trusted.

Part Two to “I Promise, You Trust”

A/N: Reader is between 14-17, so this is a Father Figure!Antonio x Reader. No romance, 100% platonic.

TW: Nothing horribly graphic, some mild angst, but mostly just to lead up to the fluff

Masterlist

It sure was cold outside. Chicago had been cold, but Minnesota somehow was colder. Your aunt had apologized she couldn't pick you up from school but it wasn't really her fault. She had to pick up some extra shifts to keep up with the bills. You're just glad she let you stay with her. 8 months ago, you really had no idea where you would end up.

8 months ago...

Detective Dawson ran off to make some calls, leaving you to your own thoughts. You noticed the worried glances of his coworkers watching you from the unit floor. You didn’t know any of them, they were all sorta intimidating in their own way, well, except for the woman with brown hair, she looked nice. It just felt better to block them out and focus on the mug in your hands. The hot chocolate had gotten cold in the time it took you to process everything and really you haven’t truly processed anything.

Dawson came back in the room, his face muddled with several emotions. There was some stress, determination and anger but you made out the sympathy on his features most of all. Most people don't want sympathy, but you were just glad someone was caring enough to do so. Trailing behind him was another cop, older, you'd seen him before, just didn't know his name.

"You got anyone we can call?" Antonio asks. you had to wrack your brain a bit. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be important. "I have an aunt. I haven't talked to her in years. My dad and her don't get along."

The two men exchanged a glance. And you understood now. If you didn't find a home yourself, they'd have to put you in a group home. That was not good. You had heard stories, everyone has. Group homes only provide shelter to trouble. If you ended up there who knows what would happen to you after. You hadn’t thought this through, this was a bad idea. In some sort of a desperate plea, you grab the detective’s hand as he’s about the leave with the other guy.

"Wait no no... I can't live in a home. I can't. I'd rather go home to my dad. Please no." Panic evident in your voice. His face softens, kneeling down to your height. He was just going to try to comfort you. You forced yourself to remember whatever he says can’t change the truth. He isn’t the one making the rules. You’re not naive.

"Hey, hey kiddo. Not there yet, let's give your aunt a ring and see if we can get ahold of her. You got a name?" His voice calm, if he was worried you really couldn’t tell now, unlike when he first returned. You gave her name, not knowing anything besides she lived in St. Paul. But they were cops, you figured they could track her down.

The other guy, Voight, left, you heard him call out to someone named Halstead to run your aunt's name. Antonio didn’t move, just kept holding your hand looking around as if he wasn’t. The fact we seemed unbothered by the comforting gesture put you more at ease, yet you still were struggling with this.

"B-but what if she doesn't want me?"

There was a look of disbelief in his face, as if you were made of solid gold. It was fake and you knew it, still, it was comforting. "We're gonna figure it out, ok? I'll tell her myself what a great kid you are."

"I'm sorry."

The detective didn’t have to say anything, but you knew he deflected your apology. Somehow you just knew the minute you said it what his response was going to be. He didn’t feel bothered. And on top of this it was going to work out. He would make sure it worked out.

And it did. Given the explanation of the situation, your Aunt was happy to take you in. Antonio pulled some strings and you spent one night with his colleague Kim Burgess (the woman with the brown hair) before your aunt took over custody. In less than 48 hours you were on your way to Minnesota with a bag you packed and your dad had no clue. For once you knew there was at least one person who was worth trusting in this world.

The snow crunched below your feet. It was only another mile or so to your aunt’s place. The roads were pretty clear. Much of the snow had been packed down for days, but a recent heatwave melted and refroze the roads to solid ice. The deceiving snow was only an inch or two thick on top of the slick icy layer beneath. So, when you hear tires squeal, it is not in any way surprising. You were learning to drive yourself; ice roads were something that even your aunt had trouble managing let alone teach you how to navigate. You had respect for anyone who was able to successfully manage those roads in two-wheel drive. Whipping around, there’s not a two-ton car sliding towards you as you had expected, planning to dive roll into the snow. There’s a black van with a guy in a ski mask running towards you.

Crap.

Taking advantage of the ice, you threw your backpack at him, hoping he’d lose his balance and walk onto the more slippery road. Yet things do not go to plan as he easily recovers and continues to pursue you, reaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You fought. You screamed, wailed, bit, flailed, kicked and every other defensive action your subconscious could think of. It didn’t work, he was just too much bigger than you. You were thrown into the back of the van.

no no no no no this can’t be happening.

You considered yourself a calm person, but that was before you were tied and gagged in the back of a van. The darkness seemed to only escalate your fears as you had a blank canvas to imagine your worst nightmares becoming reality. "Please, just let me go” you must have said it 40 times before something heavy hit your head.

Things faded in and out. Darkness and light fought a battle, but you could never really tell if you could see or not, it was all just shadows. The nausea was also coming in waves, paired with the throbbing sensation on the back of your head. You had been pistol whipped. But of course, you didn’t know that. The sheer terror of the entire situation still had you disoriented. You couldn’t feel the time pass, most people know what a minute or five minutes feels like, but you couldn’t focus. It was all too much.

When the van doors slide open you hear the guy who grabbed you talk to whoever was driving. “I still can’t believe this guy.” His gruff voice scoffed, close by.

“Well, he had the money, who are we to judge.”

“Guy? Had someone hired them to take me? Was I about to be sold or something?”

You’re embarrassed to say the next voice you heard brought you half a millisecond of comfort, it was misplaced. “You had to put a sack over her head?” It was your dad. How? Better question why would he ask that question though he had no emotion in his voice.

The men and your dad talk as you wrestle with this entire shock. Suddenly someone picks you up and carries you over their shoulder. You figured it was guy who grabbed you, but feeling that whoever was holding you gently lowered you to the floor, you made the new assumption it was your dad. The blindfold and gag came off in a quick motion. You were met with the hollow face of your father in some sort of abandoned room. He gave a sickening smile, one that brought no relief with it. “I brought you back sugar!”

“Dad, let me go.”

He nodded and started to undo your restraints. It couldn’t be this easy. Taking a moment, he was preoccupied with removing the duct tape glue from your arms, as if he cared, you jumped up, running across the room to open the metal door, but it was locked.

“Open the door, dad.”

“Y-you’ll just leave.” He whimpered, face looking offended.

This wasn’t your dad. The eyes were too hopeful and the demeanor was too caring. This was you dad having some sort of a mental breakdown. The pieces came together as you watched the tremors in his hands. Not knowing the man in front of you felt more terrifying than the man you ran away from. Before, you knew somewhere buried deep in his subconscious he would never seriously harm you beyond some bruises. But you stared into eyes you didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible he was going to kill you. All of that mess 8 months ago just to end up dying in Chicago and nobody knows about it.

But that’s where you were wrong.

Within a 25 mile radius…

“Detective Dawson,”

The somewhat uncaring police deputy at St. Paul started running down the situation. There wasn’t much to tell. Your backpack was found in a snowbank near some blood in the snow with you nowhere to be found. Your aunt had been adamant that the deputy at the front desk reach Antonio. And of course, the detective roped his unit into the situation. Voight made it a priority. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that Antonio cared about you, he cared about all his teen CIs. They were his secondary kids. He would find you, even if he hadn’t promised you to do so. He promised himself. When word had come in that your dad had been behind the entire situation it was not much of a shock. A man with a past of petty crime and domestic abuse with mental health concerns did seem like a high probability suspect. He had also rented out a storage container on the industrial side of town. Antonio and his team suited up. He was going to end this situation here and now.

“CHICAGO PD OPEN THE DOOR”

In a frenzied craze, your father throws you to the floor. It would make sense for him to run, but logic wasn’t a key factor right now. His foot goes to your neck and the gun points to your head. The gun must have been on his back, you hadn’t seen it until now.

I don’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not here.

Please no.

Please.

Bursting through the door you make out several people with weapons drawn on your dad. Light floods the dark room leaving the two of you partially blind, yet the tension still filled the air.

“LET HER GO.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Regardless, your neck was still being crushed. Air was slowly waning from your lungs. And then it wasn’t. In an instant you felt his foot roll out from over you, giving you a chance to scramble away.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s ok. We’re police.”

And that was likely the only time anyone from your side of town was happy to hear that phrase. But still, you couldn’t quite comprehend it. It was a full mess of tears, screaming, wailing and shaking. You had been mere seconds from death by gun or choking, you couldn’t just suck it up. Not even you were that badass. Nonetheless, the cops weren’t getting anywhere with calming you down.

“Call an ambo.” Calls another voice, a woman. “Tonio, you ok?”

“Yeah” And under normal circumstances you would have connected the dots, but as it has already been overly reiterated, you were not stable right now. The only thing you could register was the familiar hand on top of yours gently squeezing your arm below.

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok kiddo, we got you. He’s gone.”

Hold it, you know that voice.

And what would you know, you finally grasped it. Staring down at you is Detective Dawson, once again saving your neck, literally. It was probably against some rule, but you just buried your head in his shoulder trying to block out everything outside. He let it slide, just holding you there, seemingly not in any rush to move you till the paramedics arrived. In time you realized the other officer trying to calm you down had been Burgess, but you just hadn’t recognized her. You’re in pain, but not horrendous amounts, must be the adrenaline. Regardless, Antonio calls another officer, Atwater, to carry you outside to the ambulance. Before you know it, the ambo is driving away from the scene to Chicago Med, leaving the Intelligence Unit to deal with the aftermath including Dawson.

Sitting in the ER, you wait for test results to return on your head scan. More had happened in the last 12 hours than in the last 8 months. You realized how much you liked the simplicity and (relative) safety of Minnesota, but now you’d at least carry pepper spray. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you see Dawson peak from the side of the curtains. You had not felt too lonely or afraid before given the officers stationed outside your room, but seeing him made you feel better.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the neck?” he smiles, moving into the room slowly as if he was trying not to scare you.

You smile weakly, still exhausted. “Alright, considering.” You noticed tape on the base of his neck on one side extending underneath his shirt where you couldn’t see. “What happened?”

“I might be getting a little long in the tooth for tackling suspects.” And by suspects, you knew he meant your dad. He was the one who got him off you. “Are you ok?” You ask. “All good, just had to get my shoulder checked out.”

“Ok, glad you’re ok.” And you truly were. You would feel awful if you had been the reason he had been seriously injured, especially after you were supposed to be out of his hair.

He nods, fiddling with his hands on the rail at the end of your bed. “Hey, your aunt is on her way to get you, it’s gonna be awhile, but I talked to your doctor and they said they’ll keep you till she arrives to monitor your concussion.”

You nod. “My dad?”

“We got him, he’s going away for a long time.” You notice his lack of enthusiasm in that response, obviously thinking that justice had not been fully served.

“But not forever.” Your voice soft, barely over a whisper.

He shook his head. “Long enough you’re not going to need to worry about him.”

“But you’ll come rescue me again if he tries, right?” You cocked an eyebrow, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could make, but every reassuring thing he told you made you feel better anyways.

“As much as I love the job, I don’t know if I’m going to be on the force in 40 years.”

“Yeah, you might not be able to a shoot a gun while using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom.” The two of you laugh a bit at that visualization.

As you quiet down you notice he looks a bit more serious.“But yeah, I’ll get you.”

Once again, probably against some protocol, but you just had to reach out and hug him burying your face in his leather jacket. He leans forward to pull you in. Something about it was just natural, you knew he’d protect you, you knew that now.

“Thank you so much. I’d be dead.”

“Of course,” He pets your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“T-thank you for caring.” He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“I checked your record, no priors since you left. Thank you for being worth it.” He smiles.

The two of you sit there for a minute, staring at each other, his hand still the (good) side of your head. You’d never really had a dad moment like this, but if this was the first and last dad moment you ever had, you were ok with it. It was perfect. He stands up, stretching out his back as if he’s about to leave. But instead, he pulls up a chair.

“You don’t mind if I stick around till your aunt arrives do you?”

You gently shook your head. Truth was, you were too afraid to ask him to do so, but of course, somehow, he knew what you needed. So there the two of you sat. Talking about the extremely normal things you had been involved in back in Minnesota. You swear he kept a small smile on his face the entire time. Just happy to see you moving on. It was done.

When you turned 18, you reached out the Antonio again and asked if he would be willing to meet up for lunch, now that it was “legal” to do so. And now it has become an annual event with occasional bonus trips when you somehow wind up in the Windy City. Your lives may have grown apart in distance but something would always keep the two of you together. He’d always be there for you, and you needed that. Maybe not everyone needs a perfect father figure to survive in the world, but knowing a tough boxing detective would be by your side in one phone call gave you the freedom of safety. Your aunt is an amazing woman, but Antonio Dawson is really the one who you owe everything to.

He promised, you trusted, and it was the first decision of your life that truly mattered.

A/N: I know my presence on this account is sporadic, but I hope some people enjoy this. I’m going to dive into my drafts to work on some of the partially written responses I have for some old requests. (:

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #Chicago PD #one chicago #antonio dawson imagines #antonio dawson imagine #antonio dawson baby #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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langdxn · 3 years

Text

amnesia: prologue | outpost!michael x fem!oc

SUMMARY: The apocalypse arrives at Frankie Dolan’s door.

A/N: What better way to procrastinate finishing my other series than starting a new one? I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so here goes… this may well be a long term project for me so if you’re not ready for commitment, feel free to click away now. Also I usually write OCs as readers with names but this time we’re going full first person, so I hope that’s okay!

WORDS: 1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of car accidents and memory loss.

“Get in the car, ma’am,” the mysterious woman barked, raising a directive palm to the front door of my apartment block. Her gesture aimed at an ominous black SUV parked at the kerb outside, its rear door open and a dim light glowing from inside.

“I…,” I stuttered, eyes frantically darting around in the dark for any semblance of sense, meeting only an empty sidewalk and a flickering streetlight across the road. “I don’t understand?”

“You’ve been selected,” she insisted without any hint of expression on her blank countenance, her other hand hovering over my shoulder to guide me toward the vehicle.

“Selected? Selected for… for what?” I questioned, taking hesitant steps as if my legs strained to carry me forward. The walk down the path to the sidewalk suddenly felt like the green mile, each tentative tap of my steps bringing me closer to an uncertain fate. The end of my journey to the kerbside creeping ever closer, I gazed down at my quivering feet and examined my slippers thrown on in haste when my door rang at 3am.

I’m going to die in there, I thought to myself, swallowing harshly as the back of the car came into view. I’m going to die wearing fluffy pink slippers.

I glanced aside to the forceful woman ushering me along, skilfully avoiding answering my queries. She seemed official, the cut and form of her black suit and tie suggesting a severe brand of authority to which I wouldn’t dare say no.

But who sent her? What have I done? Have I pissed off the FBI? Is it because I deleted that scam email ostensibly from a Zimbabwean billionaire asking for my bank details? Whatever it is, my time's up.

Ducking into the back seat and settling into the stiff chair, the click as the seatbelt connected felt so final, an automatic action that sealed my fate in this persuasive stranger’s car. I frantically scrambled around in my mind for any recent events that could have triggered this rude awakening. The blunt woman slammed my door and practically hovered around to the driver’s side, a sheer metal grid dividing the rear from her front seat as she yanked the ignition and set the vehicle in motion.

“Look, is this about my accident? I’ve been going for tests and experiments for months now, nobody knows why I can’t remember a whole decade of my life—!”

“It’s not about your car accident,” she cut me off abruptly, waving a dismissive hand in the air above the steering wheel.

How does she know that? I shook my head, dispelling that inkling of concern. It could be a lucky guess. At least I hope it is. The car veered around a tight corner and flung me forward, the seatbelt constricting across my chest with a sudden jolt that brought a clarity to my thoughts.

“I had a call for a job at Kineros Robotics a couple weeks ago.”

“Congratulations,” she spoke in an indifferent monotone, as if instinctively feigning interest in my conversation knowing I’d be quizzing her for the entire drive.

“That’s the thing though,” I scrunched my forehead into a frown. “I didn’t apply for a job there. I hadn’t even heard of the place before some stern-ass lady called me acting like she’d rather stick pins in her eyes than handle recruitment.”

The driver stifled a chuckle, covering her mouth and clearing her throat to regain composure.

“Did you take the job?”

“Hell no, I… I thought it was one of those identity scammers. It’s 2020, you can’t trust anything.”

I’m making small talk with the anonymous woman that’s as good as kidnapped me? This really is 2020.

“I’m not from Kineros Robotics,” she asserted through a tinge of reassurance, turning another sharp corner before I could cling to the door handle.

“Then you must have the wrong person,” I insisted, desperate hands flailing in the air and slapping the rear window. “Please… my name is Frankie Dolan, I was born in Fort Lauderdale on October 2nd—.”

“October 2nd, 1992, to parents Sophie and Hal Dolan. Graduated University of Florida, English major. Aimed to be a non-fiction writer but instead you’re working in a coffee shop you can’t stand but it almost pays the bills. Never traveled out of state, never been on a plane… yes, we know.”

My jaw dropped. How does this woman know so much about me? Even if she Googled me, do the online realms even know me that well?

“So you know me and I don’t know you?” My confusion turned to blind fury, palms slamming into the seat beside my shaking thighs. “Who the hell are you? And where the hell are you taking me?”

“I represent the Cooperative,” she sighed, only her second signal of expression but the most revealing so far. “I’ve been assigned to take you to safety.”

“Safety?!” I frowned harder. “Who the hell’s the Cooperative? This makes no goddamn sense, what are you saving me from?”

“An imminent attack,” she detailed through pursed lips. “The Cooperative own safehouses in case of an emergency.”

“What, what emergency? There wasn’t anything on the news or anything, was there?” Aware I had suddenly started screaming in hysteria, I dropped my tone to a hushed mumble and resolved to calm my temper. “So why are you just taking me?”

“The Cooperative selected specific candidates for the safehouses according to their own criteria.” The woman dismissed any insinuation of responsibility on her part, making sure I was fully aware she was only a chauffeur in the grand scheme of some secretive organisation. “The safehouses are almost fully populated, you’re the last one.”

The SUV veered onto the freeway, bathing the front seat in the intermittent glow of constant tower lights. My gaze flitted around the dimly lit back seat — I’d better get comfortable, this doesn’t look like a quick trip around the corner.

“So you said safehouses as in plural, right?” I queried and the woman hummed in confirmation. “Then which one are we going to?”

“Sit tight, miss,” she commanded with a cool tinge of somewhat disconnected reassurance. “We’re headed for California.”

#outpost!michael x fem!oc #outpost!michael #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon fanfiction #outpost!michael fanfiction #michael langdon imagines #outpost!michael imagines #cody fern fanfiction #cody fern imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse fanfiction #outpost 3

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astriefer · 3 years

Note

“Please hold me.” for thomastair (ofc bc that's what you said) 🥺

Thank you for this! @littlx-songbxrd you asked for this as well. I'm sorry it's so bad.

~~~~~

Trust me with thy heart

Pairing: Thomastair

Words: 4,537

Contains mild angst, some self harm and hurt/comfort.

Note I am awful at writing angst or hurt/comfort. This whole poor writing is based on miscommunication, much or less, or the fear to let others close.

~~~~~

Thomas wasn't fond of fights.

Demons were one thing. Their destiny as Shadowhunters was to protect mankind from those filthy monsters who invade their world. They brought disorder and death. The people he cared about were a different tale.

A light jest with his friends, why not? A banter with his father about taking the coat or not while going outside? Sure. But not a very tumultuous, tempestuous strife with them. He preferred them all to get along with each other.

Thomas liked even less when it was him involved in the disagreement.

He spent the last day jogging between massive training seasons, hanging out with his friends, and losing himself in his thoughts. Now, he avoided everyone in favor of reading Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. He made a special effort to tell no one where he was going, so non could bother him and ask him questions.

So Thomas was stunned when Ariadne Bridgestock, of all people, rushed through the entry in an unmatched combination of grace and ivory skirts, then flopped herself onto the armchair in front of Thomas.

While she had had a pleasant expression on her face, there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. If Thomas hadn't known better, he would've sworn she came here to murder him.

"You and Alastair fought," she stated.

Thomas glanced between his book to her determined face twice, considering his options. Then, on behalf of good manners, he put a bookmark on the current page he pretended to be reading for half an hour. "Is it Alastair's way to tell me to speak to him? If so, please tell him not to embroil any other folks in our relationship."

"He hadn't sent me," Ariadne ignored the last part of his sentence. "But he did not arrive for our conclave."

A spark of concern lightened up in Thomas, yet he repressed it. He was angry with Alastair, Thomas reminded himself. "And what have you speculated I can do about it?"

She looked at him funny. "Talk to him, I presume."

"Ariadne," he tried, weariness falling heavy on him. "While I appreciate your concern, I doubt Alastair wants to see me. In fact, I doubt whether I want to see him right now. I know you confide in each other-" more than Alastair does with him, the bitter thought tore its way into his head. "And your intentions are well, but I will highly prefer to keep this between myself and Alastair."

He thought this would give her down and make her apologize. "Alastair wouldn't have sent someone else, and he didn't solicit help from myself," she said instead. "He would've given time to you both to collect your minds, and then come to you in clearer mind."

It was right. He knew it was. "So this parley is all you?"

"As I said, Yes. I worried for my friend, who happened to be your partner."

Thomas brushed his thumb on the spine of the book, musing over her words. "Why would you be worried?"

"He stood me up. I came by your flat later, just for him to say nothing has happened. When I asked where you were, he conceded you two had a big bump in the road."

"That's a nice way to put it," Thomas murmured. "I frankly wished to be left alone. It's nothing-"

"Thomas," Her amber eyes met hazel ones. "You are good at many things. Fighting demons, and keeping the rest of the Thieves out of trouble, for example."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Lying is not one of them."

Thomas swallowed, endeavoring to hide the feeling of hurt off his face. Recalling what happened a few days before made his whole body ache in pain. "So Alastair and I had a row. It always happens with lads."

"It's not just a lad for you," she pressed. He was wide aware of the chastisement in her words. "It's Alastair. And never have I seen him the way he looked when I checked on him."

"What do you mean?" he asked after he perceived her words. "Alastair was absolutely fine when I left the flat."

"You have to see for yourself." Ariadne said, "Go to him."

Despite the knots formed in the abdomen, he dithered. "Things ended up stormy when we last spoke. Maybe he's still mad. Maybe I'm still mad."

It wasn't just Alastair who was mad. He wondered how Alastair had been this past day, and how was he feeling, among many other thoughts. Yet the cloud of exhaustion and hurt surrounding him perturbated the nervousness. He was allowed to be upset about what happened. It sure wasn't nothing. Not on his part, at most. Why couldn't Alastair just-

"Excuses are not appreciated," Ariadne announced, "So you better confront him already, or I swear I shall chase you to the end of the Earth with my electrum whip." Ariadne threatened, and that what had taken to wake Thomas out of his hesitation.

"Of course," he sighed, "Because I don't have enough troubles already."

She brushed it off again with a smile, and Thomas felt mildly annoyed. He hadn't shown it. "Sort it out. It will benefit the two of you to tackle the problem."

She left no place for arguments. Utterly abandoning the book, Thomas rose to his feet and went to leave the room.

He was glad to get out of the grip of this confusing confab, but he was even more unsure if to listen to her advice.

He was still angry with Alastair.

~~~~~

A veil of fog surrounded the city. It was a prevalent London day, cool and cloudy. The wind is blowing hard, welcoming passersby in a burst of freezing breeze. A thunderstorm on its way, they said.

But those were the last of things that perturbed Alastair's peace of mind. It matched his mood just fine. If someone was to describe him, curled up on his bed alone, he could imagine being portrayed as forlorn and tormented.

No, what bothered him was a particular someone that left and hasn't returned. Alastair hated he still hoped Thomas would return and make him less cold.

His breath was heavy, and his lungs burned like fire. He remembered words that haunted him for weeks in the past. I believed you were more than what others said about you. I conceived myself beneath all the harsh words, was someone with a kind soul waiting to be seen. Was it all a lie I told myself?

Darkness flooded his senses. Trying to get any portion of self-control on his body he could, Alastair rose to his feet, glancing out of the window on unsteady legs without seeing anything at all. Gather yourself together.

But the words burned deep then, and they burned deep now. That was a battle against himself he meant to lose. The cold spread not only from the world beyond the window but from within him. It pulled out his ugly head, writhing and furious, desperately trying to break free and rise to the surface. People walked in the streets, oblivious to his troubles just as he was to theirs.

Thomas wasn't there.

Thomas wasn't there, and Cordelia wasn't there, and anyone he loved wasn't there. He locked himself in their flat for the past day, overthinking and speculating and wondering why did he have to be the way he is. If Thomas had finally realized he deserved someone so much better than Alastair, would he be surprised? Alastair was aware of this fact too well. The way he looked at him when they fought, the shaky hands when he opened the door, and the hours of waiting in case Thomas will return, just for nothing to happen. What does it mean if not that Alastair finally made Thomas give up and leave?

This inner part of him was crying, demanded to be heard, to be set free. A shrill cry came to his ears, and it took him a moment to perceive it belonged to him.

His vision became vague, his head ached, and everything spun around. He tried to lay a hand on the wall - only to find he miscalculated the distance and fell ungracefully on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest while the darkness tried to pull him in; He tried to take a breath and dozens of small knives tore his lungs up. He shrank, gasping for air that didn't come.

Everything seemed blurry, all his mind could engross in was the words Thomas Lightwood told him, the cold truth dripping from them, freezing Alastair all over again.

Alastair was accountable for all the hideous things he'd done and said, unquestionably. How weak is he that he hides behind shallow faces and vicious words? What a dolt he is, hurting a person, mainly the only person outside of his family that seemed to genuinely care for him. His words rang in his head, Thomas's voice haunting every corner.

He sank lower, his breathing gurgling, reaching out in search of something stable, something that would serve as a pillar in the chaos that ensued around him. His hand extended out to the still air and then groped for something to hold on the floor. That came the way of a cold, sharp object that lay on the ground. He gripped it tightly, and he groaned in pain and relief at the physical ache that eased his mind.

"Alastair?" A voice called.

~~~~~

Thomas was about to lose his right mind. Alastair was trembling vigorously, barely able to stand on his feet that were shaking like a leaf swaying in the wind.

"Alastair," Thomas stuttered, with no response back. His indignation vanished to immediate panic. "Alastair?" he repeated more stubbornly.

His chest went up and down quickly; His eyes were wide like that of a deer caught in the automobile light. When Thomas tried to take a step toward him, the smaller man stiffened and stood bolt upright. Thomas stopped dead.

"I came at the behest of Ariadne," he said, just for the sake of talking. Alastair hadn't told him to quiet, so he kept going. "And because I was worried about you."

"Leave," Alastair hissed out frantically. Thomas couldn't stop the throbbing burn striking through his body.

Thomas took a few steps back, allowing Alastair his space. He had no temptation to leave as he requested - Thomas simply waited aside, for a chance Alastair would change his mind. He recalled the nights he woke up from a nightmare, dazed and overwhelmed with emotions, and how Alastair always reassured him in the dead of night.

This Alastair seemed lost in his own mind, unable to escape, and it terrified Thomas. Yet, he shoved the dread aside and put on the most relaxing facade he could. He was told to be quite good at it.

"I'm right here, Azizam."

"Everyone leaves. You can do as well."

Somewhere in his mind, the pieces joined together, like a colossal puzzle. Was he afraid Thomas would leave him? That he would give up on him? he told him he could leave in their run-in, because he thought everyone will leave him in the end?

"I don't know. I don't know how to do it." To cease making the wrong decision. To cease pushing people away. To cease hurting people. "man nemidânam."

"Alastair, can you hear me?"

As he found out, Alastair did not hear him. "I don't want to hurt you. I already hurt you so much." Alastair went on, choking on his own words. Thomas was in full panic mode, and he hurried further toward Alastair with barely contained alarm.

I find you worth any pain to come, Thomas thought.

"It's fine," Thomas said. "I am fine. I want you to be fine as well. It's much more important to me than whether you may or may not harm me."

Something split in his face, and he took a deep breath down his throat. His eyes snapped to Thomas. The terror on his face made Thomas's heart sink.

"Alastair?" he asked, but it didn't manage to elicit a response from the other man.

Thomas drew closer to Alastair, not missing the flinch passing the half-Persian's body. Thomas could hear his breath, shallow and trembling. He could painfully see the tremor of his hands. The wide eyes that so clearly tried to hold back tears. He took one step closer, and Alastair took one back.

Thomas imminently came to a halt. Alastair squeezed hard against the wall. He looked like a captive animal on the verge of losing hope, a man pushed to the edge, an injured soul.

Thomas took one step closer. With his enormous figure, it all needed to reach Alastair. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man, didn't let go even when Alastair squirmed, trying to shove him aside, fought to set free from Thomas's grip. His hold only tightened, and he used his strength to shove Alastair's head into his chest. He kept him close, kept even when Alastair protested, kept his hold when Alastair Surrendered abruptly, sinking into the soft material of Thomas's clothing, even when sobs began and his chest got wet from the tears of his love.

Thomas pressed his lips to the dark hair, held Alastair steadily while he cried. No words of reassurance passed between them. Truly, Thomas wasn't sure Alastair would have heard him if he tried. He knew the touch was what Alastair needed. Their embrace was clumsy and distorted, but it was enough. Enough to tell Alastair he wasn't alone; Thomas wouldn't have let him go through this alone.

With a soft sigh, Thomas finally let loose of his grip. He started to pull away and was surprised when he felt fists clasping on the fabric of the front of his sleeveshirt.

"Please," Alastair whispered desperately."Please hold me."

Thomas couldn't find it in himself to deny it to Alastair. They slipped to the floor. Alastair buried his face in Thomas's chest once again, shaking silently. Thomas felt his mouth forming words on his chest, although he could not tell which. All the while, his hands embraced the slim, shaking form of Alastair.

A few minutes had passed. Or an hour. Or a couple of days. Thomas didn't feel the time had passed while he tried to console his beloved one. He closed his eyes and concentrated on moving his hand on Alastair's small back, kept him close. The other hand came to caress the space between his ear and jawline, where he was creating circles on the tender skin.

Slowly, The dark-haired's breath became more even.

"Here you are," Thomas let a breath of both exhaustion and relief leave his body. "Can you hear me, Eshgham?"

"Y-Yes."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"No."

Thomas sighed inertly as he held the other gentleman in his warm hands, promising reassurance and no judgment. Alastair, for the matter, clang to him as if he was drowning and Thomas was his only lifeline.

He never liked to fight with Alastair. It rarely happened, but when it did it left a bitter taste in his mouth and a pang at his heart. But he was not going to give up - not on this. He remembered his mother once told him couples fight, sometimes, because they still care about what the other does. It was their first argument with their new agreement. It didn't make him feel any better at the time. All his life he had been surrounded with unconditioned love, never exposed to the arguments and the imperfect details. It made him view love as just sweet and honey, while he learned that there's more with Alastair.

There's the giving. And the receiving. The trust in the other's intentions and the willingness to make them your priority foremost of all. The disagreements make you understand when your boundaries are and open a place for learning and acceptance. The balance you build with time, something he hoped he could shape with the man in front of him.

The trust part, to his belief, was something they still were working on. Alastair had leaned on him, and Thomas wondered it he thought now he calmed down, Thomas would leave him again. He did the last time.

"I'm not leaving," They locked eyes, and for some reason, he felt hope. "Alastair, I'm not leaving."

There are very few things he wanted more than Alastair. Verily, He was what he longed for above everything else. He wanted Alastair and everything he was.

Alastair didn't answer, but he averted his eyes.

"Are you ready to go now?"

Alastair seemed slightly lost, but he nodded and weakly stood on his legs. He followed Thomas while Thomas flung himself up and let Alastair sat on their bed beside him. The comfortable place always made both feel better - The mix of English and Persian and Spanish books on the bookshelves. The notebooks full of poems Thomas kept beside his side of the bed. Alastair's spears collection. The artworks they bought when they visited art galleries.Even the soft yellow light was a source of relief.

"You are mad," proclaimed Alastair in a hoarse voice.

"So are you," Thomas returned. Alastair shook his head, and Thomas's eyebrows rose. "So what then, if not mad?"

"Mostly nauseous," Alastair murmured, managing to startle a breathy chuckle out of Thomas. "But also bloody exhausted."

Thomas fumble after the right words, before deciding he should be candid. "I didn't like being apart from you in those few days. But I stick to what I told you before, Alastair." He saw it happening - the wall of defense Alastair was building up again after the last one had crushed. "Let me bring some fresh air into here."

Thomas tried to ventilate the room well while Alastair sank into the mattress and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "If you call the London foggy, polluted air fresh, then sure."

A bit of relief passed because of Alastair's quip. He didn't lose it. "It seems you and my father share this opinion."

Thomas scanned Alastair, then noticed the cut on his right palm. Absentmindedly, he approached his side.

"Why did you do it?"

It took Alastair a moment to conceive what he was referring to. He hastily covered it with his other hand, but Thomas saw it. "I - didn't mean to."

Thomas watched the cut in awe as if it was imaginary. However, when he grazed the skin, Alastair winced.

Thomas wasn't sure how to counter this. Their fight. What just happened. Alastair didn't either. Or did he wish to pretend none of this happened? That he -both of them- weren't hurt?

This thought wasn't toleratable to Thomas.

And that's why, after he took his stele out of his dresser and was applying an iratze on Alastair's forearm, that he asked, "I want to talk about what happened the day before yesterday."

He could feel Alastair stiffening, his muscles tensing. "I was upset," Alastair said cautiously. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, Tom."

"You shouldn't have," Thomas agreed. He was done with the iratze and put the stele aside. "But that's not why I'm distraught."

Alastair shot him a tumultuous look. Thomas took a deep breath before looking Alastair dead in the eye. "You were upset, but you wouldn't tell me why. You grumble about things relentlessly, but when you're truly shaken you don't share at all. It's not - just this argument. It's not just one thing. Those small moments you hesitate whether to tell me the truth. The times you don't." He inhaled, letting the cold air fill his lungs. He resisted looking away from Alastair's face, didn't let his eyes flutter around the room like they were trying to do. "Love is also built on trust and communication. If we don't have those, what is left?" He didn't need to hear Alastair's reply. "We talk, and we share, yet I cannot understand why you're so grumpy at times. I need you to tell me."

"Can't one just be pissed off at the world?"

"Alastair."

"Many things can upset me," Alastair said. Thomas might have hallucinated it, but his voice was a bit shaky. "Do you want to hear them all?"

"Yes," Thomas answered immediately. His tone was sincere.

Alastair's hand reached to the other side of the bed, a nonverbal request. They still couldn't stop staring at each other. But not playfully, or lovingly, but earnestly.

Alastair, naked of his facade and any snide remarks. Alastair, whom he grew to know and rarely showed up to many else.

I do trust you. I care for you. were the meaning behind Alastair's gaze. All Thomas wanted is to lean on and forget everything. But still - it was not his pride making him relucent. That was much deeper than that.

He lingered there just for a moment too long, enough to make Alastair believe he declined the request, and his hand quirked in pain for a moment. His face became emotionless - and Thomas had feared he misleadingly deceived Alastair that he didn't want them after all. That he didn't want him.

In moments, he climbed on the bed. He coddled Alastair, silently and diligently. "Tell me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," Alastair retorted eventually. He rubbed his eyes and laid back on the bed board. Then after a moment. "Everything."

"I hate it when I see you suffer and I don't know why," Thomas whispered. "I want to help. More than anything. But you push me away and I am left to think it might be because of me, because-"

"No," Alastair said firmly, extending his hands to cup Thoams's. "You have never been anything but good to me. It's just-," he broke off.

Thomas searched his foggy eyes. "I don't blame you," he told him, "If it's hard for you. But trust me enough to tell me what bothers you, thus we could face it together." He collected his hands in his own, lifting them so he could kiss his knuckles. "I know I want to stand by your side whatever the cost." he was certain about that; No whirlwind to come could change it. "Will you let me?"

Instead of an answer, Alastair kissed him.

Thomas knew he was kind, forgiving, trusting. He knew Alastair was slow to trust, slow to reveal his true feelings, hiding behind sharp words to secure himself from being harmed by people close to him. He knew the world broke his heart - so viciously, and that he took the pieces that were left. It was undoubtedly hard. Alastair had changed so much, yet Thomas wanted to understand, to reassure Alastair they were in this together.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair said when they pulled away. "I will try."

Thomas smiled at the endearment term. His heart was throbbing fast. "I was mad," he confessed, "because you refused to tell me what's wrong. You pretended. And I - I don't want facades, my love. I want the truth. I want you."

"I don't want to be weak around the people I love," Alastair whispered, and Thomas understood. To what extent did he fear that if he shows weakness, his friends and family would suffocate him again, shield him from the world as they did when he was younger? How much he feared at slightest of weakness shown, he would be smothered as Thomas had been when he was too small, too fragile?

But Alastair never did that. He supported him in his way, allowed him to be weak without acting as if Thomas was made of glass. "So not weak to everyone," He was astonished he found it in himself to laugh softly. "Each other will be enough. We can be vulnerable with one another."

Alastair stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Okay."

"This is just another way of trust."

So Alastair told him. He told him about the rumors he heard from the London enclave about his family, the looks he had gotten. Of the words of people who were white while Alastair was brown. He didn't mind, much, but it drew attention to his family. And to Thomas. Respectable family and a kind heart seemingly weren't enough to make the rumors - and who spread them - silence. The opposite is correct - the fire burned even brighter, and its flame was like cutting knives. The people who matter didn't care about their agreement, and Alastair long stopped paying attention to rumors. But when it was about Thomas, he said, he had been furious. The stories unfolded, the truth shone through, and the more Alastair talked - not just about rumors, but on the way some of the people treated him, of the Cornwall's townhouse and its residents, the things his soul troubled about were finally out.

Thomas listened, understood, stroked Alastair's cheek when he seemed to start shaking again, but now out of relief instead of concealed agony.

They sunk into a comfortable silence in the end. Up until Alastair inquired, "You were out for so long. Where were you?"

"At the institute," Thomas replied. The concept of coming back to his parents' townhouse, admitting the quarrel, rewinding it all in his head countless times while enduring Sophie and Gideon's worrying looks, was nothing he wished to do. "Or somewhere I could avoid anyone."

"And now?" he asked tentatively. "You come back?"

"I have no intentions to leave this bed even if Ariadne herself will come to pluck me off the sheets." He affirmed.

Alastair's smirk became genuine this time. "Ariadne was here today."

When Thomas said "I know" he got a quizzical look from Alastair so he supplied, "She found my whereabouts and made me go confront you. Not much subtly, may I add."

"Yes. This jinx made me open up the door and refused to leave until I told her what happened."

Thomas silently laughed.

"I..suppose it was rather cathartic," Alastair said. It was evening now, Thomas noted, and none of them found it in themselves to get up and eat supper. They just kept their bodies close, relishing their air of comfort.

"Indeed. This, this was good. Splendidly better than reading the same page over and over again in the Devil's tavern or pretending to care what waistcoat Matthew is taking to the impending party at Anna's flat."

"You thought the place you and your squad go to hide is the best place to hide from them?" Alastair asked.

"It seemed reasonable at the time," Thomas murmured. "Each of us has a kind of hideout, have we not?"

Where was Alastair's safe hideaway? At home, with a book in hand? At museums, drinking in art and beauty? Was it hiking in the streets of London by himself and enjoying the view and the whispers of nature?

"You," Alastair said. Thomas hadn't realized he voiced his question aloud. A tired, small smile played on Alastair's lips, yet his words were soft, plain and simple. Their eyes locked, and he could feel how genuine Alastair was. "You are my hideout."

~~~~~

Dictionary:

man nemidânam - I don't know

Eshgham - my love

Hamsar-am - my equal head, my better half

#alastair carstairs #thomastair #thomas lightwood #the last hours #my fics #thomastair fics #for the matter Thomas does NOT know how to help Alastair in the state he was in. He doesn't know the right way to approach this.#They just found solace in physical affection so he found it fitting there too #I'm sorry #littlx-songbxrd #carstairstessa #Besides I take centuries to write because not only I am extremely busy (and sunk way too deep into the fluff fic and Choi)#but have to wait for inspiration to strike. It works not another way.#so sorry

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