#and he can feel safe just being the best version of himself rather than throwing away his moral integrity and sense of self to conform

[gch1995]

I’ve contemplated a lot about why Luke was the sort of person that Anakin felt inspired enough to turn his back on Sidious and the dark side for, while Padme, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka weren’t.

While Anakin does become a hypocrite who no one was obligated to forgive after he turned dark, regardless of his tragic circumstances and compromised agency, I think Luke was the one who finally inspired him to turn back because, in spite of as “above it all” as Obi-Wan, Padme, and even Ahsoka wanted to believe they were, they still had many of the same issues Anakin developed of feeling pressured to be people pleasers to corrupt authority figures, expectations, and rules that they knew were wrong out of fear of the unknown under compromised agency, moral hypocrisy, pride, manipulative tactics, selfishness, and/or an exceedingly vengeful side in their anger that they were not willing to pull back on when they dueled him or other enemies that piss him off.

Padme, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka loved Anakin, but they were also prideful, self-centered, and terrified people who were too afraid to admit that their methods flawed, too afraid to take a stand against the standards of these broken systems they were born into, too afraid to admit they were wrong, too afraid to take risks to do better, and too afraid to admit that they weren’t as “above it all” as they pretended to be.

Luke Skywalker being Anakin’s son is definitely one of the influencing factors that inspires him to turn back to the light. However, it’s also because Luke is self-accepting of his bad decisions, flaws, and mistakes. He’s aware that the old Jedi Order was deeply flawed, hypocritical, and misguided, in spite of their good intentions. He’s unwilling to stoop to the same level as his enemies. He won’t let himself get carried away with baiting his father into a fight when he gets angry, and start making justifications of how he’s “right” just because he has good intentions, just because he was fucked with first, just because he’s not a Sith, or just because it’s “too dangerous” to take a risk to be honest, kind, and offer one of his enemies (his father) a better opportunity when he sees that he really is also a victim of Sidious who is still struggling against his darker instincts and searching for freedom and love from family. He refuses to enable Anakin’s slave mentality and ultimately refuses to let his father believe that “Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

This isn’t saying that Anakin is an innocent, that Luke was obligated to forgive him, or that his victims didn’t have valid reasons to fear him and resent him. Of course, they did. The point is that in those little moments where he tries to reach out to Ahsoka, Padme, and Obi-Wan about being unhappy with the Jedi and keeping secrets of his marriage before going dark, backs off, says “Don’t make me destroy you,” or lets them go, they all had an opportunity to refuse to further perpetuate the cycle of abuse by acting in anger and vengeance. They could have refused to encourage his sense of compromised agency. They could have broken the cycle of system sting abuse, crime, and oppression with Anakin in those instances by being the bigger person.

Instead Padme and Obi-Wan encouraged him to continue to stay with the Jedi and/or keep his marriage secret when they knew their systems were corrupt, and knew he was becoming increasingly emotionally/mentally unstable and unhappy in ways that made him a danger to himself and those around him out of fear of the unknown by pretending that he would just get better if they told him he would when he tried to say otherwise.

Instead, Ahsoka ended up declaring that she’d “avenge her master” when he refused to join her right away and told her “Anakin Skywalker is dead because he destroyed him.”

Instead, Obi-Wan egged him on into a duel on Mustafar by using Padme as bait, and refused to back off after getting him to let go of Padme from his reckless blind rage/paranoia force choke before killing her when he thought she brought Obi-Wan to kill him and even got him to a point where he could tell Obi-Wan “Don’t make me kill you.” When Anakin cornered him again 10 years later for revenge that he clearly didn’t want as much as he had convinced himself he did because he still cared about Obi-Wan deep down, tells Obi-Wan “I destroyed Anakin Skywalker, not you,” and even gives Obi-Wan a chance to run away, Obi-Wan allows Anakin to continue to believe that Anakin is dead, convinces himself that he is, and he runs away to compartmentalize his own guilt over how he mistreated Anakin.

Instead, another ten years later, Obi-Wan more or less encourages Anakin/Vader to kill him by just standing there after confronting him in A New Hope, and saying “I’ll become more powerful than you can ever imagine.”

So the reason as to why Anakin can’t be inspired to atone or do better by Ahsoka, Padme, or Obi-Wan isn’t just because he’s a deeply flawed person. It’s because they are too, they live in denial of it, and let him live in denial of it, too.

#Padme Amidala was deeply flawed #Anakin was deeply flawed #Ahsoka was deeply flawed #obi wan was deeply flawed #and they all lived in denial of just how deeply broken and flawed they all were and kept encouraging Anakin to pretend like he was okay #sacrificing his better instincts and happiness to try to conform to these broken systems that they all knew were messed up out of fear #until he finally stopped trying to fight back and became a serious problem for their well-being out of fear of these corrupt authorities too #when he couldn’t get anyone to listen when he DID try to reach out for emotional support and escape to fight back #like in spite of telling them that ‘Anakin Skywalker is dead’ are obi-wan Ahsoka and Luke willing to let him believe that or not? #when he tells obi-wan and Luke ‘don’t make me destroy you’ hesitated to kill them or gives them a chance to reason with him or walk away #are they going to run away act defensively or stoop to his level and try to kill him when he’s hesitating and being vulnerable? #when he gives obi wan ahsoka and Luke a chance to back off in their duels as vader are they going to fight run away or try to reason? #when he tells Ahsoka revenge is not the Jedi way is she going to agree that vengeance is bad or stoop to his level? #it’s because Anakin is desperately looking for someone who is good and self-aware enough to realize that both sides are messed up #and he can feel safe just being the best version of himself rather than throwing away his moral integrity and sense of self to conform #it’s like he’s testing people he cares about to see if they will encourage him to break the cycle of toxicity in the galaxy #to realize that both the old Jedi/Republic and Sith/Empire were deeply fucked up governments and institutions #or continue to enable and perpetuate it themselves #to not stoop to his level and enable or perpetuate terrible behaviors choices or crimes ‘for good’ fear of the unknown or revenge #to these broken systems that enable and perpetuate systematic abuse of power crime and vengeance ‘for the greater good’ out of fear #pt jedi critical #anti jedi apologists #anakin skywalker #darth vader #luke skywalker #Luke was the only one who could inspire Anakin to redeem himself because he was the only one who didn’t get caught up in the cycle himself #and the only one who refused to let his father believe that ‘Anakin was dead’

[anewkindofme]

So I know you’ve talked about if Stefan was a girl in the past, which has made me think about what if Marcel was a girl? I don’t know if you’ve talked about this yet or not, but I’ve always found the concept interesting. Like would they have met the same way? Would klaus be even more possessive- similar to how he is with Rebekah? Would he be similar to how he is with Hope? The girl wouldn’t have gone to fight in the war so how would that change their dynamic? I honestly have so many ideas - but I don’t want to bug you with all of them but I would love to hear your opinion on this! <3

First off, you're not bothering me at all and I'd love to hear your ideas!

I think he'd probably find her the same way, to be honest. Being whipped by that asshole and Marcella standing up for herself. Except, I don't think it'd be Klaus seeing himself in her, it'd be him seeing Rebekah getting whipped by Mikael. Which I do believe had to have happened a few times. So, he steps in, kills the asshole and basically adopts her on the spot.

But yes, they would have a much different relationship. Again, Klaus saw nothing but himself in Marcel and so badly wanted to right the wrongs of Mikael. Whereas, I do think he wanted to break the abusive cycle when it came to Hope (and would the same for Marcella), but I also feel it was almost his way of trying to make up how he was with Rebekah. He was protective but when it came to things Hope wanted to do, he was supportive. She wanted to dabble in witchcraft? Safely, he allowed it. He indulged her love of art. Yes, he went into typical protective daddy mode with boys but he let her have that sweet moment with Landon. He did abandon her (which, I could write several essays on how fucked up it is that basically all of the family did, including Hayley but that's not what you asked lmao), but he truly thought with her best interest and not his.

But...Hope got the Klaus that went through centuries of growth. She got the dad that Marcel should've had. But, in the 1800s...he was not this man.

I think he would've been how he was with Rebekah, but knock it up to about 100 because Marcella would be human. I think he'd try to keep her sheltered as much as possible. She would not be allowed to leave the house alone. She'd always have to have an escort. If she merely thought about being with a boy, that boy would be dead.

He'd indulge her, there's no doubt about that. She'd have everything her heart desires. She's his sweet, precious princess. He wouldn't treat her as a warrior at all. Rather, just a fragile doll. It'd take time for her to see that she wasn't delicate.

As you said, she couldn't join the war as a soldier but she could've served as a nurse. I see her turning soldiers before they died as a way to save them. Kind of like the female version of Carlisle Cullen. And when Klaus found out...he'd be pissed.

I don't think he ever stopped looking at any of his kids like children. Even when he and Marcel had their rivalry, it's clear he (and Elijah) viewed him as a petulant little prince throwing a temper tantrum because he's mad at his daddy and uncle. And once again, I think it'd double with Marcella with Klaus not taking her seriously. I think the MIkaelson family overall is "above their time" when it comes to gender roles, sexuality, etc. That being said, Klaus holds some extremely sexist ideals. He says he supports women doing what they love and says they are warriors in their own right...but then he tries to step in and control things, even in a loving way. Like, he knows Rebekah can fend for herself but also thinks "She's my baby sister, she needs more protecting than my brothers". So, I think he'd do the same with Marcella. Even when she was a vampire, he'd think "This is my baby, no way in hell!"

Though, I think Marcella would be more straightforward than Marcel was when it came to defying Klaus. Marcel had to elaborately fake his death. I see Marcella snapping and daring Klaus to dagger her like he has his family. Or compel her to follow his every move. Really bait him into an argument. I don't think Klaus ever struck young Marcel (outside spanking him), but I do think there was that slight fear that he'd do it. Whereas, I don't think Marcella would have that fear. She'd call his bluff and threaten to run away.

And this is where I see it diverging. He does dagger Marcella. He keeps her in a coffin for 80 years because he will not lose his little girl. When Elijah undaggers the rest of his siblings, he undaggers his niece as well.

And I think having his daughter would be what pushed Klaus to try to be better. Especially when she wants very little to do with him. Eventually, she takes off for New Orleans. Klaus follows her. But The Originals would be about them, along with the rest of the family rebuilding that bond. Because as possessive as Klaus was, he was a loving father and Marcella just wants her dad back. She just can't have it be how it was before.

Marcella (Gerard) Mikaelson, as portrayed by Sierra McClain

#marcella gerard #marcel gerard #klarcel #klaus mikaelson #tvdu #tvd #the vampire diaries #the originals #anon asks #asked and answered

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette tried not to be obvious with her annoyance, but it was difficult when she knew that Lila had come to the Liberty specifically to irritate her. It wasn't even her paranoia creeping up, as Lila had made it clear from their first day of face-to-face interaction that she wanted to make Marinette's life miserable. The worst part was that everyone else either believed her or tolerated her, meaning Marinette looked unreasonable no matter what she did to combat it.

She figured she should've known that Luka would be Lila’s next target. The Liberty had always felt like somewhat of a safe haven - funny, considering who owned it - so it had only been a matter of time until Lila had heard enough to decide to show up there.

"Oh, she seemed so curious to actually be on a houseboat! She's only ever been on yachts and stuff before! How could we say 'no'?

Marinette tried to keep her lips shut tight so the gritting of her teeth wasn't seeable to anyone. The best she could do was watch from afar and keep any unkind comments internal while vaguely fantasizing about being Ladybug and dumping Lila in the garbage where she belonged.

Luka, to his credit, didn't seem to take Lila's bait like everyone else. She'd sought him out and he technically listened to her (as she lied about all the music people she knew and all the connections she could give him), but he was mostly occupied with tuning his guitar, only giving her a vague noise every now and then to signal that he was listening.

It was one of Marinette's few joys of the day, which made it twice as infuriating when Lila ruined it.

"Anyway, Luka," Lila added, her voice saccharine and fake, "I really hope you and I can become great friends."

Luka's eyebrow twitched.

"And don't worry, I would never force you. I know there are some people like that, who want to make everything go their way—"

Marinette knew it was a jab at her even though she definitely wasn't that kind of person; from Lila's point of view though, of course she'd think that.

Lila continued, "but I'd never do that to you, okay? I promise!"

For the first time since she'd been talking to him, Luka turned to her, his expression somewhere between neutral and the annoyance he showed at listening to XY's "version" of Kitty Section's music. "Can you please—"

He didn't get to finish that sentence, as Lila suddenly leaned in to kiss him. Luka jerked away the moment it registered with him, but it was already too late; the contact had been made.

All the anger that had been stewing in Marinette's stomach bubbled to the surface. She stormed over, her body language confrontational as she asked, "What do you think you're doing?!"

The outburst had gotten the attention of the other girls. Though they hadn't seen it, what happened was obvious given the way Luka was covering his mouth.

Lila turned to face Marinette, sinking to that vulnerable state she used so much whenever she got caught. "I-I didn't mean to! I meant to kiss his cheek and he turned too quickly."

It was a lie, and Marinette knew it. Lila had intentionally said things to make Luka look at her so she could kiss him, all to irritate Marinette.

"You see..." Lila pressed her palm to her cheek. "I-I thought a cheek kiss would be okay. You don't seem like the type of person who would be close to someone like him, and everyone told me that you do it all the time."

Marinette was fuming at the implication, feeling personally insulted at the idea that she and Luka weren't close.

And they'd told her. Her friends had been gossiping about her to Lila, or at least telling her details, which Marinette herself had definitely not consented to.

She went to toss a glare her friends' way, but they were already rushing forward to assure Lila that everything was okay, with Marinette having to step away or risk getting knocked back with the way they formed around her.

"M-maybe I need to re-learn French customs. I spent so long away from the country and other places have—"

Marinette wasn't listening anymore. She knew how this went and didn't want to be around to see another repeat of it, nor her friends potentially shouting at her. She turned away with a frustrated exhale, speed-stomping away and going up the stairs to head outside.

Passing by the cabin, she went into the greenhouse-esque area with all of the larger plants, plopping down on the long flower-patterned seating with a heavy sigh. She'd fallen right into Lila's trap, again, and couldn't help being angry at the whole situation.

Going after her was one thing, but Luka? And to kiss him like that on top of trying to lure him in with her deceit? Marinette knew deep down that she had a right to be upset at Lila's actions, but the way she reacted to it just ended up making Lila look like the victim instead of Luka. Had she failed him?

She groaned into her clasped hands, imagining that Luka must've thought that she looked like a fool shouting like that. She liked to think that she would've done things differently had she been able to do it again, but she was still angry and honestly just wanted to go off on Lila again.

She didn't move, though briefly considered going home. After all, it'd be pointless going back downstairs, as she'd probably just end up being glared at and blamed for Lila being upset. Luka probably didn't want to see her either after that display anyway.

As if her concerns had summoned him, she suddenly heard his voice call out to her from nearby. "Marinette?"

She stiffened, then lowered her hands enough to peek at him. When none of the negative emotions she expected showed on his face, she lowered them the rest of the way.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She straightened, jaw slack that's that what he was concerned about. "Am I okay? What about you?!" She gestured wildly to him. "That—that akuma-luring harpy just kissed you!"

She realized what she said and covered her mouth, knowing that it was a much more direct insult than she usually would've gone with. Luka, however, tried to suppress a laugh from it, snorting loudly into his hand.

"I—" He cut himself off, still chuckling too much to speak. After a few seconds, he took a breath to calm down, then gave her a calm smile and continued, "I washed my mouth out, just to make sure."

Marinette tried to keep her negative emotions at the forefront, but then she was trying to suppress her laughter as well. She almost felt bad about it, but the wide grin on Luka's face showed that he'd fully intended for her to have that reaction. He walked over, taking a seat down next to her and leaning forward to maintain eye contact.

He waited until she quieted herself down with a final squeak that he asked again, "Really, are you okay?"

The smile she had on from laughter faded, though her spirits were still much higher than before. "Not really. She—she's always doing that." She glanced at him. "Let me guess, they're catering to her?"

He nodded. "They're planning on having lunch without you since you—" He made a face, clearly displeased. "—'made her so upset.'" He stared out of the glass opposite of them. "I wasn't going to join them."

"You didn't have to do that," she said, though her voice was soft from being touched by the gesture.

He gave her a smile. "I know, but I'd rather have lunch with you than with everyone else and that—" He smirked. "—'harpy.'"

Marinette tried to bite back a smile of her own, but couldn't. Hearing the pure-hearted Luka say an insult so brazenly, even if he was just parroting her own, was too funny not to smile at.

"Thanks~" she said gratefully.

"I should be thanking you," he argued. He leaned back in his seat, but didn't stop looking at her. "For being so upset on my behalf."

She blushed, looking away with both shyness and embarrassment. "I-I was really loud though."

"You play your song for everyone to hear, Marinette. I love that about you."

She blushed deeper, mentally cursing his smoothness. "How are you so okay with this?"

"I'm not," he replied, "not really, but..." He shrugged. "That kiss didn't mean anything to me. It wasn't real."

She looked over at him, frowning. "T-that was your first though, wasn't it?"

His brows rose in surprise, his face telling her everything she needed to know even before he responded. "...Well, yeah."

Now that she'd had it officially confirmed, Marinette bristled. "It's not right!" She huffed and turned to him, throwing her arms out. "Your first kiss is supposed to be special and with someone you really love! It's not supposed to just be stolen from you like that!"

He touched a hand to his chest, clearly touched by her passionate anger. She turned red and forced herself to look away from him, finding it hard to stay angry when he stared at her that way.

"...And I know you were already pretty upset with her, I could see it," she explained, "so it wasn't like I felt like I had to get angry for you, but still. She doesn't care what anyone thinks and I'm mad at her for kissing you like that and I'm mad at me because she only did it to get on my nerves and I know I shouldn't be mad at me because she's just mad that I won't fall for her lies but I'm mad anyway because I still let her rile me up when that's exactly what she wanted." Burying her face in her hands, she whined and added, "I guess I wasn't jealous at least - not in that way anyway - since I'd never want to do anything to you without your permission like she did, but I know she meant for me to get to jealous because I just—"

She cut herself off, the words clogging up her throat and forcing her to swallow them. She raked her fingers through her hair, mentally debating with herself if she really wanted to tell Luka everything.

But of course she did. Not only did he deserve it, but she felt responsible for her feelings and it was her fault that things happened the way they did, even if it was indirect on her part.

"I..." She closed her eyes and sighed, her voice lowering itself to a whisper. Hunching over, she wrung her hands together and admitted quietly, "I wanted to be your first kiss..."

Silence took over the conversation from there, but she understood. She just dropped a bomb on him and couldn't expect him to reply right away, so she let the seconds drag on without any judgment on her part.

Eventually, she heard the sound of Luka sliding himself closer, so close that the side of his hand briefly touched her leg. He inhaled softly like he was about to speak, stopped, then tried again.

"You... you what?"

She steeled herself up, the words only slightly easier to say than before. "I wanted to be your first kiss. I-I'm selfish, and I know that. Everyone knows it, and that's why—"

His hand touched her leg again. She briefly jumped in surprise, then realized moments later that the touch was intentional this time, as he'd fully settled his hand on her leg. Fighting against her nerves, she turned to look at him and saw how relaxed his expression was.

"You can be selfish."

"W-what?"

"It makes me happy. It means that—" He paused, his cheeks tinting pink as he smiled wide. "—you really want me."

It almost sounded like a question the way he said it, his eyes distant only in a way that implied that he's still absorbing what she'd said.

Her chest filled with hope as she squeaked out, "I...I do. Of course I do." Looking down at the hand on her lap, she placed her own onto it and gave it a squeeze. "But..."

The hope twisted and fought with the shame attempting to take its place, memories of the past coming back to haunt her. She averted her gaze fully, staring off at nothing in particular. "I-I can't give you my first kiss." She squeezed his hand tighter, as if that made anything better. "There was this akuma, and I had to... I mean—"

She felt his hand shifting in hers and immediately worried that she'd squeezed it too hard. She loosened her grip, only to feel his hand turn itself around to hold her hand back, pressing their palms together. The motion made her look back and make eye contact with him.

"Then that wasn't real either, was it?" he asked gently. Giving a fond glance down at their joined hands, he added, "This might be more Rose's type of music than mine, but I think the only kisses that have to matter are the ones that you put meaning into playing."

She gaped. It was still registering with her that he was not only okay with her crushing on him, but still returned it. "S-so... it's not any different? You'd let me kiss you anyway?"

"I never thought about first kisses or second kisses, or any verses beyond that," he told her, placing his other hand on top of their joined ones. "I only care about your kisses."

Marinette's cheeks turned crimson, and she nearly burst into happy laughter. She settled for beaming at him, still amazing at how easily he could ease all of her worries and doubts.

"Then... I'll give you all of them."

She shifted, continuing to hold his hand while her other went to his face. He leaned into her touch, making her all the more eager to pull him in. He didn't protest when she did, his hand moving away from their joined ones to grab her shoulder.

They kissed. Marinette was momentarily surprised when Luka's lips seemed to have a hint of wetness to them, only to realize that he'd meant it when he said that he'd washed his mouth out. She giggled mid-kiss, positively delighted to have someone like him, and he responded to the sound with a soft noise of content. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, then slid her hand down to his neck to urge him closer. He did the same with her shoulder, pulling her in and deepening the contact.

It took a few seconds of internal debate for her to convince herself to break the kiss to talk to him, and she enjoyed the slight whine he made as she did so.

"Better than Lila?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it regardless.

"Definitely," he replied without hesitation, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers.

She hummed. "Mm, good." She pulled him back in for a smaller, quicker kiss that was no less loving than the last. Full of confidence, she felt it safe to say, "I should always be playing my boyfriend's favorite song."

His reaction was immediate, his eyes sparkling and his smile wide. She blushed red, overwhelmed and half-regretting saying anything. He was just too much.

"What is it?" he asked when she averted her gaze.

"P-please stop smiling like that," she whined.

"I can't," he said. More to himself than her, he added cheerfully, "I'm your boyfriend."

"Luka!"

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

[stargazingthenightaway]

See Something You Like? Part 2

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: NSFW 18+ Sexual tension, yearning, dirty thoughts, praise kink, size kink, Dom!Rex, slight predator/prey vibes

A/N:  Ahhhh! Thank you for all your lovely comments! ILYSM 💖 💖 🥰 🥰 Just a heads up, it might be a couple weeks before I get the next chapter up. Report card season is here, and I need to get those sorted. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.  

Fuck.

Your heart stutters as you bolt upright, frantically wishing the panic away. The heat from your face alone could give the twin suns of Tatooine a run for their credits as  mortification sinks low in your chest. It’s a struggle to keep your breathing even, outwardly trying to appear calm when all you want to do is sink into the floor and disappear. Of all the times to be caught fantasizing about riding this man’s face! It was like your depraved thoughts had summoned him, taunting you with the object of your fantasies, dangling him just out of your reach. Look but don’t touch. 

You haven’t turned around yet, and judging by the silence, you can tell Rex is still waiting expectantly for your answer. Kriff, how were you to answer that. You can guess how well telling him the truth would go “Interrupting? Oh no sir, I was just imagining how you’d sound as you hold me down and make me cum on your tongue.” Pfft, you’d be written up for inappropriate conduct and get a one-way ticket to the Hoth base. Try getting yourself off when your fingers are stuck under your armpits trying to stay warm. Bye-bye happy times.

As these thoughts are going rabid fire through your head you don’t notice Rex has leaned up against the wall by the door, giving you a slow once-over, lingering on your ass and appreciating the way the fabric clings in all the right places. Lifting his eyes up he can see the flush making its way up the back of your neck. Rex chuckles quietly to himself, too quietly for you to hear, as he takes in your reaction to being caught bent in half, for anyone passing by to see. But lucky him, he got to see that tantalizing sight of you, face down-ass up, groaning quietly like you needed a good fuck. Rex had to hold himself back when you’d uttered “Fuuuuck me” in such a wrecked tone, wanting to fulfil your plea and fuck you like you asked, like you needed. If he played his cards right he’d be able to hear so many more of your sweet sounds, and they’d be all for him. 

Finally deciding to just get through this conversation as quickly as possible, you turn around and feel your knees go weak. Maker save you. The sight that greets you is like something from the holo novels that you keep hidden under your bed. Rex had decided to forgo his cuirass and spaulder, showing off his black undershirt, which left his arms on full display. All that beautiful, unobstructed muscle led down to his vambraces, fitted snuggly against his wrists. His hands were resting low on the holster belt slung around his hips while his legs were crossed over at the ankles. He looked deceptively at ease except for the way his eyes were focused on you. All sultry, and brooding and hungry. You can’t help but feel caught in his gaze and there’s a fleeting thought that if you were to run Rex would give chase until he had hunted you down, snared in the cage of his arms. That mental image makes your lower belly clench in anticipation, already eager to be caught.

You’re brought back to the present when Rex raises a questioning brow your way, still waiting for you answer, though he’s more amused by your reaction judging by the smile tugging on the corner of his lips. 

Frantically shaking your head, the answer you’ve been looking for finally shoves its way past your throat. “No Sir, no interruption at all.” You notice one of his hands twitch by his sides before going still again.

Rex tilts his head to the side, “Are you sure?” His eyes are tracking your movements, looking for any little tells that could help bring you closer to him. “You sounded pretty desperate there, cyar’ika.”

If only he knew. You try to send what looks like a reassuring smile his way “Absolutely! I was just lost in thought.”

He pushes himself off the wall, intrigued. “Now what could have caused your thoughts to stray?” He stalks closer, and for each step he takes, you take a step back. It’s not long until your back is pressed against the shelf and he’s standing in front of you.

The way he looks at you sends thrums of pleasure through your veins, his proximity sending your senses into high alert. You catch a whiff of his cologne, a subtle spice that has you leaning into him, only for you to quickly jerk back.

Nonono! Abort! Abort! In a sad effort to avoid the real reason for your wandering mind and to prevent your body from utterly betraying you and jumping Rex where he stood, you throw out the first excuse you could come up with.

“My friend Ria dared me to beat her high score on this particular sim,” you wave blindly behind you, “and I have until tonight to win.” You mentally cringe and are already planning on how to apologize to Ria. While she’s a sucker for drama, Ria prefers to hear about it then to live it. She dislikes being pulled into your schemes, especially recently, with your ideas of avoiding a certain Captain while you try to control your libido. 

Rex crosses his arms over his chest, shirt pulled tight across his biceps, and just making himself look bigger. Your eyes flicker down and back up to his face, trying not to get distracted.

“What are the stakes?” He asks

“Huh?” Is your eloquently response. Why was he still interested in this? Your answer was supposed to be enough that he’d let you scurry away, but here he was asking for more. 

“What happens if you lose your bet?” Rex patiently rephrases his question, looking like there was no where else he’d rather be at this moment. He enjoys how flustered you’re getting, especially when your eyes stray down his torso before rushing back to his face. 

Your hands flutter by your sides. “Oh, um,” you flounder, not thinking he’d press this hard for answers, “well, there wasn’t anything specific, just that I’d have to do something for her, however and whenever, she asks” Nailed it! “Sort of an IOU kinda thing.” You mentally give yourself a pat on the back. Surely he’d let you go now.

Rex rubs his hand along his chin, humming to himself as a grin starts to form on his face. This was the opening he was hoping for! He thinks it’s cute how you’ve started to relax, thinking you’re safe, that he’ll let you go. But he’s far from finished with you, not by a long shot. If he has his way this conversation will continue far into tomorrow morning, and every morning for as long as you will have him. His eyes find yours and you see a triumphant glint that causes your breath to hitch.

“So what you’re telling me is that she gets to do anything she wants to you, however she wants, when she wins” He practically purrs out the last part, a deep rumble coming from his chest. 

You don’t know why but the way he says that, paired with the smouldering look he’s giving you, sends a shiver all the way through your core. When he puts it like that it sounds like some sort of dirty rendezvous, in all the best ways. Something he said suddenly catches up to you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What do you mean when she wins?” You step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you think I can’t beat her score?!” Of all the nerve!

Rex looks down at the finger smushed into his chest then back up to you. Such a spitfire! He adores how innocent you look when you’re flustered, the rosiness of your cheeks and your fluttering hands, but this. Well, this version of you gets his blood singing, ready to prove he’s a worthy opponent for you. Indignation lights a spark in your eyes, and coupled with your battle ready stance to throw hands, has his cock ready to stand at attention. Rex knows he just needs to push just a little bit more to get you just where he wants.

He wraps his hand around yours, and moves it away from his chest. While furious, you still have enough coherency to feel how his palm completely engulfs your fist. Stars, is he this big all over? You almost miss how his thumb starts rubbing soothingly along your hand. “It may just be the soldier in me, but in order to beat a high score you actually need to shoot the targets in front of you, not just stare at them cyare.”

Force take you, he had been watching you longer than you thought! Your face burns in embarrassment and you make a move to take your hand back. Rex tightens his grip to prevent you from moving away and pulls you close enough that you can feel the heat from his body. You try and salvage some of your dignity. 

“That was a minor blip,” you mumble to his chest before looking up, staring defiantly into his eyes before you spit out “I bet I could hit more targets than you with my eyes closed.” 

There’s a strange gleam in Rex’s eyes when he hears your challenge, posture alert as he straightens up. “Oh ya?” The same challenging tone is in his voice. “You think you can take me on mesh’la? Let’s put a little wager on it.”

It’s too late to back down now, so you think for a moment before tossing out your wager. “Alright, if I win, you take me on your next mission with the Ghost.” 

Rex nods along, almost too quickly, as he agrees to your side of the wager. The gleam in his eyes is still there as he casually tosses out what he wants “I’ll take the same bet as your friend mesh’la. I get to do anything I want to you, however I want.”

Fuck you sideways in an X-wing. There’s no way Rex could possibly mean it like that, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, like the tooka that got the cream, you can’t help but wonder.

You afraid that if you speak now, all that will come out of your mouth will be an undignified squeak, so you settle for nodding your head.

Bingo. Rex’s grin turns downright feral. “Perfect, it’s settled.” He abruptly turns you so that you’re facing the shooting range. “If you win, you get a mission,” Rex places the blaster in your hands, “and when I win, I get you.” The all to myself goes unspoken, but you can feel it hanging in the air between the two of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “If you win. I’m confident I can beat you.”

“We’ll see.” He takes a couple steps back. You’re about to turn around to ask him what he’s doing when he orders “Eyes forward, and get into position” and you hasten to obey.

You can feel a new flush start to crawl up your neck and you fight it down. Now was not the time to think about what other kinds of positions Rex wanted you to take. Of how he’d sound ordering you to suck his cock, or to keep your hands to yourself as he fucked you slow and deep, or how you can give him just one more. Stars, you desperately need to cum or get your head in the game, and since you can’t get to you bunk right now, the game it is.

You take your previous stance and settle in position. Rex is so quiet that you can’t help but quip coyly back at him “See something you like, Sir?”

The sound of your voice brings Rex back to the present, having found himself enjoying how quickly you moved to obey his order a little too much, needing to readjust himself. Your saucy little ‘Sir’ makes his hands clench by his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly. Brat, he thinks fondly.

Looking at your stance, he decides it’s not quite right for what he has in mind. He hums, “Maybe, once I get your stance to my liking.” His boots barely make any sounds as he moves forward. “For one, it’s too wide.” Rex comes up behind you, moulding his body to your back, hands on your hips. You let out a little eep, hoping he didn’t hear. “You need to bring your feet in” and proceeds to bracket your legs with his own, using his feet to nudge yours closer to your centre. “You should feel snug in your position.”

Oh, I’m feeling snug alright. Rex had maneuvered you in such a way that you were pressed right up against his groin, hips nestles between his legs. There’s a dull throb building between your legs when you feel him push in, moving your hips to the side and you can feel him. It wouldn’t take much effort to grind back against him, create enough friction that he would have to bend you over and fill you up. You yelp as there’s a pinch to the sensitive skin on your side.

Rex lightly scolds you “Pay attention. If you want to beat me you need to listen to what I tell you.”

“Yes Sir” you automatically reply. There’s a subtle shift behind you before Rex takes one of his hand and covers your eyes. “Don’t have any blindfolds handy, so my hands will have to do.” He says gruffly, his voice a tad deeper.

Before you can ask if everything’s alright, you hear him hit the start button and you’re shooting as best you can. There are still too many thunks from misses for your liking, but you are confident enough that you can pull ahead. When you’ve finished, you turn to hand the blaster to Rex, moving past him to reset the simulation. When that’s done you lean against the wall. You try to relieve some of the pressure between your legs by clenching your thighs together, but it’s not nearly enough, so you suffer in silence. As you watch Rex get into position you decide to have a little fun with him. You wait until he closes his eyes to start the simulation. Just as he’s about to shoot you ask “Do you want me to help get you into position, just like you did for me?” Your question catches him unaware and you hear a thunk sound out. A small laugh escapes your lips. “Losing your touch old man?” You tease, a smirk kissing the side of your mouth. “I didn’t think you’d take what I gave you so easily.” You mimic his words from earlier. 

Rex whips his head around to look at you, mouth open in surprise before he closes it in a thin line. “Oh cyar’ika, you shouldn’t have done that.” Rex tsks, shaking his head. “Here I was, thinking that I’d go easy on you, only winning by a couple more shots, but if that’s the way you want to play it.” He trails off as he extends his arm out in front of him before turning his body to face you, away from the targets. You can feel the smirk start to fade from your face and reappear on Rex’s. “I guess I’ll just have to show you that your place is under me,” and proceeds to shoot. Each shot making a ting sound. Every. Single. One. All without breaking eye contact with you. When he’s finished he motions for you to look at the score board. A perfect score.

You turn back to Rex as he puts the safety back on the blaster. “So, uh, congrats. You win.” You say quietly, realizing how quickly your plan backfired. 

Rex looks far too please with himself. “Of course.”

You haven’t moved from your spot by the wall and Rex strides over, victory in his eyes. You don’t see as your looking at your boots. When he’s close enough he gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb, bringing your gaze to his.

“Don’t you know mesh’la? I always win.”

To be continued. 

Taglist: @samrubio @justanotherstarwarswhore @bvcketfvcker

#Captain Rex #Rex #Oldman Rex #Rex x reader #Rebel Rex x reader #First Fic #Yay me #I promise there will be sexy times #It's just taking its time #Rex is looking at reader like 👀 #He want the 🍑 #I need a Dom Rex in my life

[juniorgman187]

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[tennessoui]

18 obikin!! Amnesia fics are super fun 🍆

18. One of them wakes up with amnesia (Option A because two people sent in this prompt number and I liked both ideas I saw for it enough to not want to pick) this involves an Obi-Wan that got deaged as well as lost his memories so he's Phantom Menace Obi-Wan. no i will not be explaining. hand wavey drabble fic writing.

--

The man has not stopped staring, but something in his intense gaze makes Obi-Wan feel safe. Almost. Well. On edge, yes, but. Protected. He has the strange feeling that he’d rather be under this man’s stare than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.

But he knows he’s never seen this man before in his life, the same way that he knows he’s twenty-five and that Qui-Gon Jinn is his Master, that he’s a Jedi knight-in-training, that he hates teas with mint leaves in them, that he’ll never say no to a drink with Quinlan, that--well.

He supposes none of that stuff could be true anymore. Vokra Che, who’s a grown and certified healer master now, had told him what had happened. An older version of himself had touched something he wasn’t supposed to. The closest translation they could find to the runes on the object was that it would transform the user back to their most balanced state. Obi-Wan’s had, apparently, been at the age of twenty-five. He hadn’t recognized the name Anakin Skywalker. He had never been to Naboo.

He throws the rest of his drink back and waves to the bartender to pour him another. He’d gone straight here from the Halls of Healing. He’d had a shadow the entire way, but the man has yet to try to talk to him at all. It’s infuriating.

His Padawan braid swings into his field of vision for a second. He tosses it over his shoulder. He’d been told. Qui-Gon had died. Obi-Wan wants to not think about it at all.

There’s a brush of a Force presence that’s both familiar and completely foreign next to him. The man has finally moved to his side. Obi-Wan’s jaw ticks at his continued reticence, the way he’s observing him but not talking to him. It just simply won’t do, but Obi-Wan isn’t feeling his kindest. He doesn’t want whatever this man is offering him with his silent, dour stares and his suffocating Force signature that keeps trying to tangle itself with Obi-Wan’s own. It’s rude is what it is.

He waves down the bartender and orders a drink for the man. “If you got mint, put it in,” he tells the woman who raises an eyebrow but shrugs, one pair of her arms busy with the drink. When she gives it to him he slides it to the man next to him without even looking at him.

“What--” the man asks. “I don’t--”

“You do tonight,” Obi-Wan says bracingly, throwing back half of his own drink. “We’ve both just lost our Masters, haven’t we?”

The man beside him flinches as if Obi-Wan had skewered him with his lightsaber.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan lolls his head to the side to look at the man threw half-closed eyes. “My padawan.”

“Anakin,” the man says so quietly it’s almost lost to the noise of the bar. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, yeah.”

Obi-Wan takes a drink reflexively, humming in disbelief. “You don’t look like it,” he says consideringly. At Anakin’s confused look, he elaborates. “You don’t look like you could have ever been a Padawan.”

The man pulls himself up, face darkening at the perceived slight. It’s almost too easy to rile him up, but now that he has, Obi-Wan finds he has no interest in fighting this man. Quite the opposite, really. That’s...something. He can’t tell if that emotion comes from him now or the older version of him.

Either way, Obi-Wan has no desire to stand in the way of whatever storm this Anakin is building up in his head, so he turns to face him completely and pushes both hands into his blond hair, raking down the scalp gently before collecting the strands into a poor imitation of the Padawan ponytail. “That’s better, I suppose. The hair threw me off.” He lets go slowly, making sure to tug at one of the strands at the last second.

Anakin has a very strange look on his face, but he’s definitely not angry anymore. He’s even shielding much more tightly now. Obi-Wan smirks into his glass as he takes a sip. He definitely remembers that trick.

“Do you know who cut it?” he asks, catching sight of the end of his braid again. The drinks are going to his head much more quickly than he had intended. Must be all the trauma his body has gone through in the past few days. “My braid.”

“I.” Anakin stutters, caught off guard. “You did.”

Obi-Wan feels like laughing but also a bit like crying. There’s a terrifying emotion rearing its head in his chest. It threatens to swallow him whole. “Well, I suppose I never liked to stand on ceremony.”

“You cut your braid in the fresher and then called me in and braided mine,” Anakin says distantly, as if caught up in the memory. “You wouldn’t let me hold it. I thought you were so mean. But I understood at my Knighting Ceremony. It was a part of me in my hand, a...starmap of all the places I’d been and the things I’d learned during my training. And there was only one person I wanted to give it to in the whole galaxy.”

“Did you?” He asks, taking a sip to hide how important the question is, how devastating the answer could be.

“Well. Yeah. But I guess I don’t know if you kept it,” Anakin cuts his eyes away from Obi-Wan’s and runs his fingers up the long stem of his drink.

Obi-Wan chokes on a laugh. “He definitely did.”

The other man’s face settles into a frown. “You don’t know that. You’re not him.”

“I’m enough of him. I’ve got--some feelings. In my head. Impressions.”

“Of me?”

“Of how he felt about you.”

Anakin’s eyes widen and then narrow with a sudden intensity that makes Obi-Wan want to shiver. It’s like being in the eye of a storm. His hold on the delicate glass in his hand becomes dangerously tight as he leans forward into Obi-Wan’s space, as if he can’t get close enough to him.

“What do you feel when you look at me?” he asks almost breathlessly. Obi-Wan blinks, trying to figure out if he’s being seduced or not. It’s sort of working. It’s all that focus, directly on him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind if that’s how the night ended. But sleeping with his former padawan who he can’t remember right now doesn’t seem like the best decision he could make.

But Anakin had liked it when Obi-Wan tugged at his hair. He’d arched closer to him. And now, the distance between them has been eaten away until they’re almost pressed chest to shoulder.

“Safe,” he decides to say, even though the word feels too small. “Sad,” which is mostly true but also an oversimplification. It’s a sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness, mixed with acceptance and resignation. “Warm,” because even after being denied entry to Obi-Wan’s mind, Anakin’s force presence has curled around Obi-Wan’s like some sort of krayt dragon, content to wait and guard and treasure. He leans forward, just until his mouth brushes against the skin of Anakin’s ear. “Coveted.”

Anakin definitely shifts at that, and when Obi-Wan pulls back enough to see his face, his pupils are blown wide.

Swallowing a grin, Obi-Wan swallows the rest of his drink in one go. “Drink up,” he tells Anakin in his most demanding tone, reaching into his pockets to pull out his older self’s credits to settle the tab. “I want to go.”

Anakin obeys immediately, making a face at the taste.

They’re out in the street within a few minutes, Anakin smacking his lips as if still trying to rid himself of the flavor. “I just don’t know why you had to order me that,” he complains, falling into step on Obi-Wan’s right.

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the very unsanitary wall of the building, spreading his legs wide enough so that Anakin can come in between them. The man doesn’t seem to notice anything different, just steps a bit closer as a crowd of loud party-goers makes their way past them.

“I wanted to see if I liked mint,” Obi-Wan shrugs, raising his hand to rest on the skin of Anakin’s neck. He can feel the way his pulse is beating incredibly fast.

“Why would my drink help you with--”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He commends his older self for being able to teach this idiot anything, even though he seems to have skipped over important lessons like Recognizing When You’re Being Flirted With.

Before Anakin can finish the thought, Obi-Wan twists his other hand in Anakin’s robes and pulls him forward until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “May I kiss you?” he asks because it’s only polite to.

Anakin’s eyes widen and then fall shut as he gives a little nod, finally stepping forward until their bodies are pressed completely together.

At least someone, although he doubts it was the older Obi-Wan, taught Anakin how to kiss. Obi-Wan’s toes curl in his boots as Anakin takes control of the action, moving his hands so one’s pressing against the wall behind them and one’s running up his scalp. Obi-Wan takes his time licking into Anakin’s mouth, allowing Anakin to explore him in return. One of them moans, which seems like as good a time as any to break the kiss.

“Well?” Anakin pants, diving in to place a short kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. “What do you think?”

The short answer is that Obi-Wan isn’t. He noses back towards Anakin’s mouth hopefully, sliding his hand down from his neck to rest on his hip.

“About mint,” Anakin elaborates when Obi-Wan doesn’t respond immediately.

“Inconclusive. Need more data,” Obi-Wan tries to kiss him but Anakin’s smiling too hard.

“Then next time you can get the awful drink, and you can get me the Alderaan Sunset,” Anakin is complaining, but he’s laughing too and that’s nice. Obi-Wan thinks that making Anakin Skywalker laugh is one of the best feelings in the galaxy, and he thinks his older self would agree, if the warmth sparking up in his very soul means anything at all.

#asks #my fics #writing #tarantasina #i'm sure eventually they get obi-wan back to normal and he's just sooooo embarrassed that he got drunk and decided to seduce anakin #but like it worked out #anakin makes fun of him too until obi-wan remembers that he kissed back #prompt fill

[masterhandss]

Who do you think katarina will end up with?

Anonymous asked: Who do you ship katarina the most with ?

I got these two questions consecutively, I'm assuming they are coming from the same person so I'll combine them to a single reply, if that's okay.

People who have been following me since the first season can probably tell that I really like Geordo x Katarina (GeoKata) the most out of all ships. At first it was mostly just because I have an unintentional biases towards characters with blonde hair, which is why favorites were GeoKata and MariaKata, but then when I slowly got into the series more, my biases permanently shifted to the G-boy.

I'm not really a fan of laying out why I like certain ships through test to be honest. I usually get super frustrated when zine mods ask contributors to explain why they like a character or ship for contributor spotlight graphics because I can never really say everything I feel correctly hgdsjsdgfj, which is a good thing someone had already asked me a similar question before so I'll just copy paste my response here if that's okay :DD

TLDR; I ship Katarina with Geordo (Maria, Sora and Cezar behind him), and I think Katarina will end up with Geordo :))

You didn't really ask why but I'll give it anyways :)) -> major light novel spoilers, by the way <-

I'm not really the most deep person, if a ship has the bare minimum of something that I like (a trope or a hair color combination) then I stan it hard. That's why I used to be so equally adoring to both Maria and Geordo, because hurrdurr blonde hair hurrdurr. But the more I read the books and got into the community, I eventually liked him more than Maria. I didn't understand how or why at first, since Geordo and Maria are undergoing a very similar character arc: both characters wants to become better people in order to become worthy of Katarina (Geordo emotionally, and Maria physically? magically? in terms of her position/social status? I can't think of a right word but you get it). Again, Maria and Geordo's struggles are similarly written but one of them is more compelling to me. I feel like Maria's problems are easier to solve (her inability to rely on people, her attention seeking and her desire to be more magically powerful) imo, since she's already a well-liked figure in the Ministry and she's already a high-level magic user. Geordo's though; the series doesn't put too much attention on it, but despite the fact that Katarina gave his life color, he still somewhat sees the world in a desaturated light even post-childhood according to the novels and his lack of empathy still prevents him from completely absorbing all the colors. He's still learning how to see and he is happy that Katarina is always there to help him learn how.

I just love the irony that Katarina sees Geordo as a Perfect Prince and feels that she is inferior and unworthy of him, but then Geordo also seems himself as flawed, inferior and unworthy of Katarina and sees her as someone perfect. Geordo constantly wants to be better for Katarina (and for the people around him), and in time, maybe he could become a motivation for Katarina to be better too (on Katarina's side though, because on Geordo's she doesn't have to because she's already perfect the way she is). Geordo, while being self-centered and aggressive in his pursuits, isn't always selfish and thinks about what Katarina wants too. He'd fight tooth and nail for her and will do whatever he can so that Katarina will love him in the same way, but that doesn't mean he wont respect her decision if she falls in love with someone else, he just wont lose without a fight that's all (and fight, he'll give that's for sure).

Geordo is crazy in love with her; wants to protect her happiness, keep her safe whenever he can, and is even willing to both fight to become king and throw away the life he currently knows if it means he can live a life where he and Katarina can be together wherever she is most content and happy. He wouldn't lock her up in the castle like a caged bird like what Keith and some fans of the series thinks, whenever he does have thoughts like that like in Volume 6, its his internal response to the lack time they can have together alone, rather than being indicative of how he wants to treat her (like in his desire in Book of Desires, he conjured up a literal honeymoon because a honeymoon is the only time where he can spend it with her alone without someone butting in! It's weird and exaggerated, but his desire is simply to just be able to spend a day with her and be able to pursue her romantically without the threat of people like Keith and Mary).

Katarina sees him for himself, and she extends her hand of friendship to him despite all her fears of her bad ends involving him. She knows he's a "sadistic prince" but doesn't always tie him to that title. Out of everyone, Katarina has just as bad, if not worse, initial impression of Geordo compared to almost everyone around him (Others sees him as a Perfect Prince while she sees him as a Sadistic Prince and Future Murderer), and yet she accepts him and wants to learn more about him. She supports him and wants him to find happiness in love with Maria, even if it means she'll get exiled to another country or to a far off farm! (i'll edit this with citations later)

I can't help but want that for him, someone who there for you through thick and thin, who supports him despite everything she knows about her future involving him. Katarina is everything he would ever want in a partner: someone who isn't disturbed by his past, can see through his fake smiles, constantly cares for him, sees him beyond his princely façade, is one of his first friends who has helped him create friendships with other as well that prevented him to wallow in isolation and hate of the version of himself that society created for him, is genuinely interested in him as a person, is endlessly fun to be around and unpredictable, and is overall beautiful inside and out.

Again, a lot of Maria and Geordo's struggles are very similar to each other, but I'm more interested in Geordo's side. I find it more compelling. Geordo's scenes always almost provides something new, we get to see him angry, flustered & embarrassed, scheming/conniving, possessive, grateful, sad & frustrated and so much more. Maria has that too (we get to see her sad and thankful), but this might be my own perspective of reading the novels, but Maria's scenes kinda feel the same to me. It almost always starts with Katarina helping her and her realizing time and time again how much she loves her and become more motivated to be a better version of herself. I mean its unfair to say that they are all the same but that might just be me. (Maria: wow I'm so grateful for everything Katarina has given me, I want to be with her forever (rinse and repeat for the next 5 books))

Yes I know it's beautiful to see Maria falling deeper and deeper in love with Maria, but I'd rather see moments of someone who is trying to advance on those feelings rather than someone who is still trying to understand what they feel. Declarations and descriptions of love are beautiful in literary works and it always gets my heart fluttering, but I can read fanfics if I want to see that be written in 8 or more ways. Give me some action, some internal conflict!

It also doesn't help that it makes me really really happy for Geordo that he's made a dent in Katarina's baka shield? Katarina's heart skipped and fluttered for a second when Geordo was patting her head, and it makes me want to root for him even more! (Yes, go break the bubble! You can do it!!)

It's not even the same doki-doki as when she gets charmed at how pretty Maria is, to me its different in a way that my small vocabulary can't explain.

And besides, it really is just a battle between the protagonist that almost ruined her life (Maria) and the love interest that almost ruined her life (Geordo). Keith is part of that equation too, but he was never a threat after they became close (narratively, its seriously just Maria vs Geordo vs Keith, ignoring the changes to that narrative by FL2). It's always about Geordo (and Maria), everything she's doing in the Fortune Lover 1 Arc is because of Geordo (and arguably, Maria & Keith too) and the consequences of where he decides her future to would lead to.

It has to be Geordo, in my opinion, to show her that things aren't the same as the game (and he already kinda has, just a dent though) (If not Geordo, it should be Maria). He, who she feared and yet cared for so much

(I know Fortune Lover 2 basically removes that importance of Geordo and Maria specifically to Katarina's narrative by making her an active problem in all routes, finally becoming loyal to the title "All Routes Lead to Doom", but its not like the story is digging into Katarina's brain that she's sword training for the purpose of fighting back against all the boys, its still just Geordo, so idk I still count that in my shipper brain)

It also also helps that Geordo is basically the poor bullied animal in the hamefura community's eyes, regardless of how far he is into the battle (like in the reddit discord lmao). Yeah he has the best chances which is why many people both in and out of the series find it so fun to drag him under because of his unfair advantage, which is fair, but just like how you feel when you see a small wounded animal, you can't help but want to help someone who has the whole world against him (there's literally a canon manga page with that joke lmao), which is how I eventually felt over time. He's so misunderstood and bullied by people despite the authors dedication to flesh him out more beyond being a possessive prince fiancé of Katarina because of the anime's adaption, so I'd rather give my biases to someone who needs (and deserves it) rather than other contenders who are already overflowing with love and support. Also who doesn't love a perfect guy who breaks when his beloved is harm/who opens up to the person he cares about most?

I know people will read this and find it unfair that Katarina is giving so much to Geordo, but he isn't really giving anything to her. One thing I'll agree that Maria has over Geordo is that Maria makes Katarina want to try and work hard. Seeing Maria improve her magic wants Katarina to do the same, and whether or not it's from motivation or fear of getting left out depends on the reader. So far we don't really have anything like that for Katarina with Geordo because most things involving Geordo intimidates her, compared to Maria who is surrounded by mysteries and adventure (though arguably it's Katarina and not her lmao, but Kat doesn't know that).

Katarina is already the most well-adjusted character in the story even as a child so the only thing to really explore from her is mostly just her relationships and skewed sense of reality. That's why I hope that Geordo will not only help her realize that she can be loved by her peers romantically despite her self-perceived position/role, but also be one of the persons to make her completely realize that she isn't living inside a game. I mean like I said a few paragraphs ago, he's already kinda doing it by constantly confessing his feelings to her, reminding her that he is a person with his own feelings and not a character programmed to fall for a heroine.

So yeah, I ship Katarina with Geordo for those reasons and believe they should end up together for those reasons.

If you ask me who I think would she end up with objectively, I'd still say Geordo. The author's focus jumps between Geordo and Maria so that really depends on who you're asking. It also doesn't help that Geordo is always in the marketing with Katarina in the books and games, which pretty much cements his Male Lead status to Katarina's Female Lead status lmao

Thank you for the ask lmao, I'll be updating this with more thoughts and possibly citations later :))

#mh ask #hamefura #my next life as a villainess all routes lead to doom #my next life as a villainess #geokata #geordo stuart #katarina claes #i want to add more but i'll do it later :)) #I just copy pasted this so i'm srry for the typos ;;w;; #bakarina #destruction flag otome

[x-infernhoes-x]

Evermore- Maliksi x Reader

Title: Evermore

Genre: : )

Warnings:  Not much but I’ll leave it to you guys lmao. Implied Relationship as well so ye.

Word Count: 1, 690 k +

Description: I don’t know WHY I get ideas for fanfics at ungodly hours of the night like I’m supposed to be on a break here since my neck still hurts from writing that 2k pound of word vomit that is known to be one of my greatest smut piece that eventually earned me the title as ‘The Emissary for Zaddy Cannibal’ WHEEZE and I started writing this at 1:57 am so let’s hope I’d finish this before 4 am. I’m basing some stuff I know about Maliksi from the comics and perhaps the anime as well. I also suggest listening to Evermore from the live-action version of Beauty and the Beast after reading!

PS. I didn’t finish this last night because I got sleepy at 3 am. There’s an AO3 version of this that’s direct to the point if you want something shorter than this one which can be found here! Oh and my grandma suggested that I set the font size to 12 instead of 11! and as always, I finished this at 3:29 am GGWP talaga.

Anyways, enjoy! _______________________________________

If people asked about how the Prince of Tikbalangs was like as a person, most of them would describe him as rowdy, haughty, stubborn at times may even be perceived as a pervert due to his distaste of not wearing any underwear underneath his jeans. Some thought of him as the classical, spoiled rich kid who cared for no one but himself but in reality, he was so much more than what people would perceive him to be. Being a Prince was something, sure he got everything that he wanted regardless of what it was, he would always find a way for it but sometimes it led him to live a rather lonely life that felt like he was nothing more but a slave to live through this illusion of being the perfect prince.

If they took the time to peek through the curtains of his façade, they would see that he just wanted someone to understand and see him for who he is but this also proved to be contradictory for the poor fellow given the fact that every time someone would show him just the right amount of honesty and kindness, he would find out that most of these people were only after him for things such as taming him to become their loyal servant, for his money or even for the sake of his looks. He thought that this curse of his would stay with him for the rest of his Engkanto life but somehow that all seemed to change his rather pessimistic view on life when he had come across someone who would turn his whole life in a different direction.

Maliksi had met (Y/N) (L/N) on one of his father’s many extravagant events where he was forced to sit through it. Of course, while his father was busy chatting away, the prince took this as an opportunity to sneak away which eventually led him towards an unsuspecting person who would change his life forever.

At first, the two of them were like total opposites, always clashing and arguing about something to the point that his father, Senior Armanaz had to interfere with their constant bickering but time seemed to wear both Maliksi and (Y/N)’s dissatisfaction for each other’s presence and instead began to tolerate the other, which eventually led into something more than just friendship among the two.

Maliksi and (Y/N) were completely inseparable, almost attached to the hip to the point that the Prince was rarely seen without them. He would take (Y/N) on trips across the country, sometimes he would take them out on long drives after his races and almost everything in between. People have reported that the two seemed even more in sync especially in battle, covering each other’s backs while bantering about which car model was the best or where they would eat after this whole ordeal like the two of them were playing a mere game of Patintero or even playing a good round of Pogs to see who got the most hits on their opponents and who seemed to be stronger.

But there were precious moments where Maliksi would take them on trips across the country just to escape from the hectic and bustling streets of the city and gave them the taste of what it means to be free and live life in color. He would watch his partner’s joyful and almost curious gaze with a feeling of warmth and care in his chest that would make him smile along with them, the two of them would participate in various festivals such as Flores de Mayo and its ritual pageant, Santa Cruzan, The Masskara Festival in Bacolod down to his personal favorite which happened to be the Moriones Festival that takes place in Marinduque. But out of those trips, the one that he treasures the most was the time Maliksi and his parents had flown out to their home province, Bukidnon to celebrate the Kaamulan Festival where his partner met the rest of the family, of course, this was also the time where he had proposed to (Y/N) after their 3 years of dating, he was glad that they had accepted his proposal.

Who knew things would eventually change from thereon. With the underworld restless and agitated from all the events that have transpired, it seemed to put a strain between Maliksi and his fiancé. To make matters worse between the two, Maliksi began to do races that would conclude in fatal car accidents for both parties. This would result in (Y/N) and Maliksi arguing non-stop every time they meet however these fights never resulted in something physical but it would leave them in tears or the other walking away with a slam of the door. This cycle seemed to break the moment a certain Babaylan-Mangdirigma had beat him at his own game and managed to snap some sense into him as well the moment his beloved ran at him at full force, scolding him right in front of Alexandra Trese before the two left to settle their problems in private.

“Magpakasal na tayo.” Maliksi told (Y/N) the morning after the two of them had reconciled. Of course, this made his fiance cough up their drink, eyes wide and still hacking their lungs out while Maliksi made his way over to them, patting their back gently to ease their pain. Once things were clear, (Y/N) could only look at him, disbelief and surprise evident on their face before they spoke, “Seryoso ka ba?! Paano yung simbahan, yung venue-“ Holding their hands in his own, Maliksi could only give his soon-to-be spouse a grin, placing a chaste kiss upon the back of their hands. “Wag ka nang magalala, babe. I’ve got it covered.” And just like he had said, Maliksi did have it covered, the venue, the church, and everything in between. It was a quick but simple ceremony that had his parents and (Y/N)’s parents present and nobody outside of the clan knew about this union between them. Time seemed to move quickly after that but the two newlyweds felt like it was an eternity for them both.

In a short amount of time the fantasy of church bells and dreaming faded into war cries and chants of ‘Sic Itur Ad Astra’  quickly and we see Maliksi and his spouse come face to face with the greatest foe they’ve ever come across, the war-god of Bukidnon, Talagbusao. With the rest of their forces subdued by the War God and Maliksi trying to recover from the hit he had taken from Talagbusao, the Tikbalang prince seemed to take notice that his spouse was nowhere in sight and panic seemed to take a hold on him like a choke-hold. Standing up, he began to look for them, ruby-red eyes rapidly scanning the area, furiously looking for his beloved, silently praying to Bathala that they were okay or let alone still be alive.

His prayers seemed to be answered when he saw them, still kicking and fighting and running to where Talagbusao was and he immediately knew something was wrong. “(Y/N)!! ANONG GINAGAWA MO!?” Maliksi yelled out through the sound of roaring bullets, trying his best to reach over to where their lover was.  “Alexandra, ngayon na!” Maliksi heard (Y/N)’s commanding voice ring out as she caught the Babylan-Mandirigma’s knife, Sinag throwing it to her while they subdued Talagbusao to the best of their abilities, eyes locked with their husband as they mouthed at him, ‘Patawarin mo ako, Maliksi.’ And as quick as a flash, Alexandra, Talagbusao, and (Y/N) disappeared into the Dragon’s Gate. Maliksi was left to watch his spouse in paralyzed horror and shock disappear right before his eyes, chest clenching in panic as the impact of the closing portal sent everyone nearby it flying backward.

_____________________

A month has then passed after that event and we see Maliksi within the Trese household as he would always do, always waiting, hoping, and praying that his (Y/N) would return to him safe and unharmed. This day was different than the other days he would spend at the household because this day was the day that Alexandra Trese had returned as announced by a pale-looking and wide-eyed Hank. The tikbalang prince was the first to head where Alexandra---who was now swarmed by her older brothers and the kambal, his eyes still searching for his spouse, his expression of hope immediately diminished as he spoke, his voice slowly trembling with each step he took, “Nasaan si (Y/N), Alexandra?”  at the mention of his spouse’s name, Alexandra then refused to meet his eyes as the rest of the Trese siblings along with the Kambal clearing a path for him, all watching him with disconsolate looks and glistening eyes as Alexandra held onto Sinag as tightly as she could, trying her best to find the right words to say to him.

“Wala na si, (Y/N), Maliksi. She’s gone.”

_________________________

“There is a story, of a man who had lost his beloved in a war, some say he still waits for their return, others say that the day his beloved had disappeared, he had soon followed.” 

“They say that this man could be found standing by the tall windows of Tower A [1] located in Ayala Avenue. Urban myths suggest that this man is a ghost bound to the building, others say that he’s the reason why that Tower still exists.” Now in his prime, Maliksi sat in the place where his father used to sit. It had been years since he had taken over the clan and years since his beloved, (Y/N) was taken away from him at such an early age. Beside him was an empty throne reserved for them once they return. No matter how many years it would take him, Maliksi Armanaz, former prince and now leader of the Armanaz clan, would still wait for his beloved, (Y/N) to return to him until the end of his days. He would wait for them for evermore.   

#trese netflix #trese #trese imagine #maliksi imagine #maliksi armanaz #fanfic #trese x reader #maliksi x reader #kailan kaya ako titigil #ewan ko ba HAHAHA

[nobodies-png]

Okay. So this is like, the funniest prompt that I found, wrote a bit for, and forgot about. I wrote it for a different fandom, and then thought "Organization XIII would be funny for this..." Org. XIII is turned into children and now the Reader has to (make sure they don't die) take care of them. Ages like... 4-9 because that's when children are the funniest. Do what you will with it

ngl im a sucker for old cliche prompts like these, every fandom has at least an au for this specific setting or some kindergarden au lolol

anyway here’s some HCs as to how they’d act and stuff !

Xemnas :

One of the oldest kids, but you don’t really know what to make of him. You were expecting Xemnas to still lead the rest, scare them into submission with a simple glare or something - turns out he’s rather timid. Barely speaks, you get the feeling he’s ignoring you on purpose, just makes a lot of faces and noises to indicate what he’s feeling. 

Somewhat clingy too, but unlike Demyx and Xigbar who want to get your attention through any means possible, Xemnas just grabs onto the hem of your shirt and follows you everywhere in silence. Doesn’t cause much trouble, but he doesn’t help you keep the others in check either, a true neutral I guess. 

Sometimes, he will just disappear and show up whenever you least expect him. Loves to climb and sit on tall places. Spaces out a lot. Compared to the rest, you can probably leave him to his own devices, as long as he’s not left alone with Xigbar or Larxene. 

Xigbar :

Actually the oldest, but pretty annoying and high maintenance. If he got on your nerves as his regular self, then you’re in for a fucking ride - this Xigbar is here to cause problems on purpose. He likes to talk, a lot. And it’s sucks because it’s usually endless and mindless chatter or pointing out everything that he sees. 

If he starts to get bored, he’ll scurry off to bother someone else, but it usually ends with someone crying or hurt. Don’t even bother keeping him on a leash, the bastard is too smart to be contained. 

Xigbar is one of those kids that can be extremely useful if you get him on your side, as he has no problem snitching and ratting out the others. The best way to keep him from losing his other eye or gouging out someone else’s is to bribe or trick him into helping you (just know that he can also be bribed by the other kids, Xigbar WILL betray you). 

Xaldin :

You expected Zexion to be the loner type, but turns out it’s Xaldin - he’ll always be on his own or avoiding the others, usually around the kitchen since you’ve banned everyone from going in there until they return to normal (not that they listen to you, but oh well). 

Xaldin is pretty much like those kids who hate being treated like kids and who pretend to be above the rest. While he might seem calm, it’s really easy to get him riled up, a simple “I bet you can’t do this or that” and he’s off to prove himself. 

Oddly enough, he gets jealous easily - if you give Roxas a cookie or whatever for behaving, then you GOTTA give Xaldin one too or else he’ll throw a fit. The best thing you can do with him is be honest and confess that you need him to chill the fuck out and Not Die :tm: while you take care of the others, he’ll feel all grown up because you told him the truth and will calmly stay in his room. 

Vexen :

One of the oldest kids, the stereotypical kid who only has ONE interest and won’t shut the fuck up about it, which is cute but not everyone has the patience to sit through a 6 hour talk about dinosaurs. You never expected this baby Vexen to be so into dinosaurs out of all things. Of course, just because he only talks about them, doesn’t mean he’s not curious about all that shiny lab equipment. 

You can’t keep him distracted with dinosaur books all day, he still has the heart and mind of a scientist ! Because he’s a very obvious nerd, he’s the target for a lot of members in the organization, namely Larxene - and when Vexen gets flustered or frustrated, he freezes up. Literally. He WILL freeze the entire room too.

Your best bet is to pair him up with Zexion or Xion, since they’ll gladly sit down to listen and learn. The three will gladly stay locked up in the library learning and reading. You just gotta hope Vexen doesn’t instantly crush Zexion and Xion’s dreams by ruining their fairytales with facts and logic.

Lexaeus : 

Also one of the older kids and the tallest too. This Lexaeus is just as stoic and intimidating as the original, but apparently he’s also very sensitive. Everytime he speaks to you it sounds like he might be about to cry. But he looks fine ? So you really don’t know what to do about him. 

Either way, Lexaeus is also very helpful and responsible, so you can trust him to watch over the rowdy kids and keep them relatively safe, just try not to pair him with the suuuper loud ones. 

Probably the type to take the blame and responsibility for any pranks gone wrong under his watch, even if you fully know there’s no way he’s responsible. Lexaeus is the epitome of “I just want everyone to get along”. Somehow, he’s very gentle with the others (as gentle as one can be when straight up dragging Xigbar out of the ventilation system) but he’ll break any toys and other items given to him.

Zexion :

Zexion is very very small, so you can probably understand the stress he’s going through, surrounded by these animals. Like Xemnas and Demyx, he’d be pretty clingy but he wouldn’t be able to follow you around or cling to you with all the others pushing and fighting around. 

So you can either just carry him on your shoulders or leave him with Lexaeus or Vexen as mentioned before. If not, Zexion will wander and either fall asleep in the Grey Area or find the library on his own. 

Not a problematic child, really. Zexion lacks the energy and the feralness to join any shenanigans - he's also smart enough to know that he’ll be better off listening to you and staying clear out of safety hazards. Though there’s always the chance of other members taking advantage of Zexion’s naive and curious nature.

Saix :

You were expecting him to be a tiny version of his regular self, bitter and strict. Surprisingly, he’s way more fun as a kid, glued to Axel by the hip too. They’re the duo you should look out for - Axel is the one who gets them in trouble and Saix is the one who makes sure you never notice they were behind it all. 

The one with a TERRIBLE temper right after waking up. Saix won’t hesitate to bite and claw anyone who tries to wake him up, even Axel knows better than to try. If it’s nap time, let him go, don’t even try to stop him. Don’t let anyone else near him.

Other than that ? A very nice kid in general, he feels a sense of responsibility when it comes to the younger members, so he’ll be the one to keep Axel in check whenever Zexion, Roxas or Xion are around. As for the older ones ? They’re on their own.  

Axel :

Axel is the first one to say “fuck” and it spreads like wildfire. So if you start hearing a bunch of kids swear at the top of their lungs, you know who caused it. You’ll also know because you’ll find him laughing and wheezing on the ground. 

Somewhat naive, if you tell him he can’t say “invertebrae” because it’s a swear world, he’ll believe you. But SURPRISINGLY he’s very aware of how dangerous his fire powers are - like, Axel wants to cause trouble on purpose, but he doesn’t really want anything to escalate and get anyone actually hurt. Unless it’s Vexen. If it’s Vexen, then it’s fine by him. 

You might hear “Y/N, LOOK” before seeing Axel in the kitchen casting fucking Firaga on a bag of Totinos or something. He and Demyx somehow keep getting targeted by the Dusks, who love to play pranks on them. 

Demyx :

Most likely to eat food off the ground, or anything shiny and colorful, really. He has the exact same vibes as the little brother who likes to follow people he thinks are cool to try and impress them, just to be considered a cool kid too. 

Demyx is very clingy but also a sneaky kid, he can easily cry his heart out so you’ll pay attention and protect him from people he’s pissed off. This is literally why most of the kids don’t like to be around him, cause he’s THAT kid who will ruin everyone’s funs by calling the responsible adult if he gets upset.

Instead of being musically inclined, Demyx just makes a lot of noise - constant loud humming, blowing raspberries, stomping his feet or tapping/hitting things, repeating funny noises or phrases he picks up. Probably has an old ass iPod or an MP3 you can distract him with.

Luxord :

DO YOU KNOW THOSE LITTLE KIDS WHO ARE SMARTASSES ? The ones who act like they know the mysteries of the world and give you a look of superiority because you clearly don’t know what tubby custard really is ? Yeah, that’s Luxord.

Full of fun facts that he LOVES to brag about, but most of them are fake and he’s none the wiser. You cannot correct him either because it’ll be like telling an 8 year old that Santa isn’t real. Thankfully, you don’t HAVE to correct him because that’s what Xaldin is for. 

Most likely to steal Xigbar’s eyepatch for himself and somehow convince everyone else that it was HIS eyepatch in the first place. How ? We don’t know, we just don’t know. Also Luxord might just steal little trinkets from everyone and stash them under his bed like the little creacher he is. If you can’t find your keys, you know who’s got em.

Marluxia :

A natural big brother figure. Very understanding too, even if you’ve heard from Larxene that he’s tired of everyone pulling his hair and that he might shave it all off just so they all stop. Yeah, there’s some lingering resentment in there. He’s 50/50 on being a little bastard and an angel.

Marluxia volunteers to help you take care of the other kids, mostly because he likes bossing others around and because he also likes reading books to Zexion and Xion so they fall asleep. 

LOVES to leave trails of petals and flowers wherever he goes, but REFUSES to clean up. Always seen with Larxene - Marluxia is also lowkey competitive so he sees the Axel + Saix duo as rivals. In what, exactly ? Who knows. VERY picky with food too. Actually, just very picky and petty in general.

Larxene :

The one kid who develops a personal vendetta against you from day 1. Larxene DESPISES being told what to do, so if you’re constantly telling her not to do this, to do that and whatever, she will make your life a living hell and do the opposite out of spite. 

You didn’t hear this from me, but Larxene is GENUINELY upset that she keeps accidentally zapping people whenever she plays with them. It’s really hard for her to apologize too, so you’ll have to step in a lot to de-escalate the situation.

Larxene sticks forks in outlets JUST to scare others, since she cannot get hurt at all by electricity. She just seems to enjoy making others afraid.

Roxas :

One of the youngest, Roxas doesn’t KNOW what “using your indoor voice” means, he’s either DEAD quiet or SCREAMING about how he’d like to have ice cream as a treat, please and thank you. It’s really fucking funny to see honestly. Just make sure he doesn’t sneak up on you and scare you shitless.

The type who gets dragged into shenanigans rather than cause them - he’s a very neutral and calm kid otherwise. The worst thing he can do is just steal everyone’s dessert or something because of that intense sweet tooth he’s got.

A lot of the older kids LOVE trying to get him and Xion to laugh, because Roxas has this permanent poker face AND because they both have really funny snort giggle laughs. 

Xion : 

Also one of the youngest, very sweet, patient and polite ! Xion also tends to be very clingy, always needing to hold hands with someone whenever she walks around Castle Oblivion. No one has the heart to tell her no, either.

Can get VERY VERY irritating and angry when someone tries to make fun of her or Roxas. Like a little hurricane of puppies - Xion won’t stop pestering all the meanies until she’s received a proper apology. If she somehow ends up hurting someone, she’ll insist on making up too.

Xion also tends to copy people she likes, similar to Demyx. You might catch her imitating your movements or way of speaking, or even copying the Dusks’ movements - but just make sure she doesn’t see you, Xion will explode out of embarrassment.

#KH headcanons #reader insert #organization xiii #xemnas #xigbar #xaldin #vexen #lexaeus #zexion #saix #axel #demyx #luxord #marluxia #larxene #roxas #xion #writing for xemnas and xigbar hurts a lot more now that KHUX is over

[imagine-that]

White horse

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: maybe angst? Kind of mentions of kidnapping ig?

AN: this one may or may not have more than one part coming 🤫🤭😉 also it’s too the song White Horse by Taylor Swift and I’ve linked it so you can listen while you read or after or before if you’d like!

——————————————————————————

Say you’re sorry, that face of an Angel

Comes out just when you need it to

“Loki get back here! We aren’t done talking about this!” You cry, chasing after the green cloaked god.

“There is simply nothing to talk about. You think leaving is a good idea, I think it is not. Therefore, you are forbidden to leave.” He says bitterly, storming away, back towards the palace.

“Oh for the love of Odin- you’re being ridiculous! You cannot forbid me from doing anything Loki! I am my own person, or am I not now my love?” You ask angrily, picking up your pace to even try and match his.

“Stop! Stop calling me that, stop trying to make it better. I am no longer your love y/n, I am no longer your anything it would seem. But no need to worry, I will be sure to think the same of you and nothing more.” He says coldly, the smirk you so despised playing on his lips.

You groan, smacking his arm. “Would you just listen to me for five minutes?! I-I don’t want to lose you Loki. But I have to get away from here, I don’t want to be contained to only this one place all my life, it’s not enough for me!” You cry, taking his cold, bony hand in your own and holding it tight. “I want to be with you, please.” You beg, your eyes filling with tears.

“Y/n, if Asgard isn’t enough for you, surely I am not either.” He says coldly.

“That’s not true! Do you know how long it took me to finally make this decision for myself? To decide leaving is what’s best?” You ask and he says nothing. “I cried for days at the thought of leaving you. I paced all the time. You’re not the only one having trouble with this choice. Loki- you’re my everything. I can’t bear the thought of losing you forever.” You promise him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

As I paced back and forth all this time

Cause I honestly believed in you

“Then do not leave. Stay with me, become my princess. We can spend our days by the lake and reading books from the royal library.” Loki argues, taking his other hand and wrapping it around yours.

Suddenly he’s getting down on a knee, pulling out a ring box. You shake your head rapidly, not believing what you’re watching.

“Y/n, you are my princess, my soulmate and my other half. This kingdom would be unbearable without you, it would be the most boring place in the galaxy. I see colors brighter, feel things more clearly and feel like a better man than I am when you are around me. Please, do me the greatest of honors and marry me.” He gives his little speech, smiling up at you with the look of lust and love in his eyes.

“No.” You breathe, staring down at him.

“W-what?” Loki asks, a frown etched on his face.

“I said no! You cannot... guilt trip me into staying here, nor can you just propose to me to prove a point or to distract me for my choices. You... you can’t just tie me down like this. I’m not going to give up on my hopes, nor on my dreams to suit you.” You scoff, stepping back from him.

“You have to! You have to because I say so and as I am crowned prince of Asgard, you must obey!” He cries angrily, getting up off the ground quickly and moving closer to you.

You stare at him with pure disgust and disbelief in your eyes. “You may be the crowned prince but you cannot force me to obey you by any means!” You shout back in his face, breathing heavy with fury. “If you insist I must then you’ll have to throw me in the dungeons because I’d rather rot down there for the rest of my life than marry the man I’m seeing before me right now!” You snark again, tears burning your eyes.

His face contorts into a sickly grin, one that sends horrible goosebumps up your spine.

Holdin’ on, the days drag on

Stupid girl, I should’ve know, I should’ve known

“You truly mean that, do you? You would rather die without a smidge of dignity, stripped down to nothing but a caged animal in the deepest part of Asgard’s darkest, coldest dungeons than marry your beloved?” He asks, inching closer to you.

“You are not my beloved. It would seem you have killed whatever’s left of him.” You growl coldly, turning your back to him.

He laughs a cold and hollow laugh. “You do not get to walk away from me!” He bellows and you remember exactly where his temper came from.

“Yes I do and I will.” You say calmly, your stubborn nature kicking in.

“Trust you to act like a coward in a time of need for bravery.” He sneers.

You swerve back around, snapping your head in his direction.

“Continuing this useless argument with you has nothing to do with bravery Loki. It’s stupidity. And you are being irrational. I can’t talk to you like this. So yes, I’m walking away. But believe me when I say that that is the brave choice in this situation.” You explain, staring straight into his steely grey eyes.

“You said you loved me! You said we were meant to be! You said we were soulmates the universe and the gods decided were meant for each other and only each other. Did you mean one word of it?” He asks, a sad and desperate smile on his lips.

“I- of course I did Loki. I meant every word of what I’ve said to you.” You promise, tears streaming down your own features. His slender and delicate fingers gently reach up, brushing them away with his thumb, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“Then why are you insisting on leaving me?” He asks, his voice more broken than you’d ever thought possible.

“I don’t belong here Loki. I’m destined for other things and meant to be or not, I cannot truly commit myself to being your princess, to being your forever if it means not exploring that destiny.” You say softly, resting your forehead on his chest longingly.

It’s taking all of your strength to fight the urge to wrap your arms tightly around him and agree to what he’s asking just to see his smile return but you manage.

You know this relationship could never be healthy if you couldn’t commit to it with all of your heart and soul. And if it couldn’t be healthy, you didn’t want to put either of you through that. You couldn’t handle that pain.

That I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale

I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell

“Loki. You have to let me go my own way.” You sigh, glancing up at him.

He says nothing, turning himself away from you.

“I cannot do that. I literally cannot bring myself to do that. Either you stay or I am merely nothing to you. That is how it will be.” He states after taking a shaky breath.

“Loki you can’t possibly expect me to make that decision!” You cry out, mouth agape in shock.

“It is the decision that must be made. If I mean anything to you at all, you would stay and rule by my side.” He says.

“It isn’t that simple Loki! I can’t just choose you because I love you.” You groan, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“And why not? Because it is easier to run away from me, run from what it is we have than to be with me? I am fully aware of that fact y/n, it has burdened me all my life!” He bursts out, his eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

“No! You do not get to play the left as a baby card right now Loki because you know it is not like that at all! You know I harbour nothing but love for you! It is not a simple choice I’m making right now!” You argue, shaking your head.

“What did you expect me to say exactly y/n? I am not going to stand here and blatantly lie to your face and say I agree with your choice in departure nor that I am ok with it!” He shouts louder. “I refuse to let you leave! I refuse it, ok? You cannot leave Asgard, I will forbid Heimdall from allowing you to go if that is what I must do but you will not leave me like this!” He snaps, his face one of rage and possessiveness as he makes his way to the doorway and out towards the bridge to the gate to the realms.

“You can’t do that to me!” You cry, racing after him to stop him. You scramble to get in front of him, laying your palms against his chest to keep him from moving any further.

“Remove yourself from my path darling.” He warns, staring you down. Still, you remain in your spot.

“Not a chance dearest.” You growl back mockingly.

This ain’t Hollywood, this is a small town

I was a dreamer before you went and let me down

He picks you up carefully by the arms, moving you behind him effortlessly.

“If you do this I will never forgive you! I will not only leave you, I will never speak to you again. Not even if you hold one of your swords to my throat to force the words out yourself.” You shout after him, your voice void of any emotions other than pure, white, hot rage.

He pauses in the middle of the bifrost, looking at you, testing the truth behind your words as he analyzes your stance.

He meets your eyes, your big y/e/c showcasing every bit of vulnerability within you in that moment for him to see. He had a knack for that it seemed, seeing everything about you no matter how much you tried to hide it.

He knew you like the back of his hand. Normally, you felt safe and protected with that.

Now you just felt hatred for the eyes baring into your soul.

“You will forgive me someday. I am sure of it.” He says quietly, smiling softly at you.

He leaves you there on the bridge, falling to your knees with a small sob.

Deep down you knew he was just scared. Scared you would somehow be hurt or taken or used as a weapon of some sort and he wouldn’t be there to come to your rescue.

But that didn’t matter. You didn’t want your knight in shining armour. You only wanted to be free.

Now it’s too late for you and your white horse

To come around

————————————————————

A few nights later...

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had paced back and forth in your room, biting down your nails out of stress and anger and the need to concentrate. Your hair was a mess, you refused to change into any of the clothes you were given, staying stubbornly in your outfit from the few nights ago instead.

Since your meltdown on the Bifrost, Loki had brought you back to the palace, stroked your hair as he tried to talk you down, calm you. It had worked, much to your dismay. You’d woken up in a foreign room and upon an attempt to leave, you found that you were being kept there.

Loki was treating you like a prisoner. He was being true to the Midgardian fairytale Rapunzel he’d once read to you in the gardens, you’d thought to yourself the first day.

“Loki, let me out of here!” You screamed desperately that day, pounding on the door until your fists ached. Crying and shrieking in hopes someone would help you.

He again, came and talked you down, holding you as you sobbed. You were a wreck, you couldn’t comprehend how your sweet, kind eyed Loki had become this monster who kept you like a toy or trophy rather than his equal, his true love.

Somehow though, you believed he was in there, crying to get out and be the one to hold you in his arms and let you go. You imagined staring into his eyes, kissing him, promising you’d be there for him no matter how far you were. It was driving you crazy, trying to flip between the Loki you’d known all this time and the one you were with now.

Maybe I was naive,

Got lost in your eyes

You’d managed to calm yourself most of the time, you’d managed to talk him out of the crazy idea of keeping you under lock and key. Even this new Loki seemed to realize it was too much, too inhuman and cruel. He apologized for having done it in the first place and you merely nodded, staying true to your promise to him. You weren’t speaking to him anytime soon, if at all.

You instead stayed in his room, staying by his side when he wasn’t taking care of his duties.

You knew he was wrong. You knew he was being awful and possessive and downright toxic but still, you couldn’t imagine not being with him. You couldn’t imagine it but you knew it was a terrible idea to willingly stay. It wasn’t what was right for you.

You stayed in bed most of the day, trying not to feel the ache for his touch in your chest the way you were now. And when you weren’t, you were standing on the balcony, watching out at Asgard. You may not love living there but you still believed it was beautiful regardless.

That was how Loki found you that evening, in a robe on the balcony, staring down at the city.

“It is beautiful with the sunset is it not?” He says calmly from the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

You nod a bit, not bothering to turn around to face him.

You hear him moving closer but you pay no attention, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You are truly not going to talk to me?” He asks with a sigh.

You shake your head, resting your chin in your palm as you watched the sky become as golden as the palace itself as the sunset.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair from what you can see in the corner of your eyes.

You were taking your time, balancing your options on the invisible scale in your mind. You wanted to be held by him and trust him again but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him have it all. Not after what he’d done. You silently decided that letting him struggle, torturing him with your silence was your best play.

And never really had a chance

My mistake, I didn’t know to be in love

You had to fight to have the upper hand

Your long term plan for yourself was yet to be determined. Loki’s kindness and love for you was blinding you, making it impossible to concentrate on your thoughts, much less make them coherent.

You brush past him, ignoring his begging gaze as you go into the bathroom and shut the door behind you, getting in the shower. You let the water run down your hair, getting it wet while your mind starts to clear up a bit and you finally know exactly what you have to do for your sake.

You finish, getting redressed before going back into the room, ignoring the princes longing eyes as you climb into the bed, facing away from him.

“Alright, that is enough already y/n.” He sighs, pulling the blankets off of you. You jump up in shock, staring at him blankly. “I know you are mad at me however I only did this for us, my love!” He insists.

You scoff, abandoning your former decision completely. “You did absolutely NOTHING for us here Loki. You did this for you. You did this because you’re scared.” You argue back, your days of pent up anger at him thankful for a release.

“I did not! I did it to protect you, to keep us from falling apart!” He shouts.

“Please! Loki I am begging you to at least admit to yourself that you did none of this for my protection!” You cry, staring him right in the eye.

His breathing is heavy and jagged, he’s panicking, this much you knew. “I-I would never do anything regarding you for my own selfish gain.” He says calmly.

“But you did Loki. You did everything to do with this for YOUR gain.” You sob, tears covering your cheeks.

“I-I love you Loki. I truly, painfully do. But I cannot be with anyone who would regard me as some sort of trophy. I will not do it.” You continue, your lip trembling as you speak.

“I never- I never meant for it to get this far... I merely wanted to keep the one thing I’ve truly loved in my life safe. I wanted us to spend forever together, side by side.” He says, his voice so low and quiet you have to strain to hear it properly.

“I-I know.” You stammer, gulping in a breath between tearful gasps. And you did know. He was your other half, there was no way you didn’t think of the future with him in the same way he did. You just didn’t always treat it the same.

I had so many dreams

About you and me

“Please- please forgive me darling. I cannot apologize enough for the chaos and- and the harm and trauma I put you through these past few days. I was no better than my father himself. I was truly a monster.” He says, his eyes once again filled with unshed tears.

You nod lightly. “Okay.” You say quietly, meeting his eyes.

“W-what?” He asks, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“You heard me. Okay. I forgive you.” You say simply.

“J-just like that?” He says, still not convinced.

You force a laugh, continuing with your small charade. “Yes just like that. You’re my true love, I could never stay mad at you for too long Loki.” You say with a small smile.

He smiles back, pulling you into a hug. “Oh my darling you have no idea how grateful I am for your forgiveness.” He murmurs into your ear. You hesitantly hug back, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

“Always.” You promise quietly. “As much as I love sharing a room with you though Loki, I think I’d like to sleep in my own bed tonight if that’s alright.” You ask, blinking at him innocently.

He nods repeatedly in agreement. “Of course my love. Whatever you wish.” He promises, standing and offering you a hand. You take it in your own, getting to your feet yourself.

The two of you walk around talking for a few hours, making you glad for the fresh air and mind numbingly silent atmosphere. He holds your hand tight, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I think I need some sleep my love. I’m feeling kind of tired.” You say with a small yawn. Without hesitation he walks you to your room, making sure you’re good for the night and that everything is to your likings.

“Loki, everything is fine. Go. I’ll be fine.” You groan exhaustedly. He sighs in defeat, standing in the doorway.

“Ok but I will be here in the morning in case you need me. Goodnight my love.” He says, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You nod with a tiny smile, knowing that by morning you wouldn’t be there for him to help.

Once he’s finally gone, you change into something more comfortable and a little more inconspicuous, grabbing a few of your things and tossing them into a bag. You scramble to write a quick note to your family so they aren’t left entirely in the dark with all that’s happening and you ensure that the door is locked to buy yourself more time.

You climb out the window, gulping as you feel yourself dangling from so high up but making your climb down to the ground floor of the castle.

You felt guilt for leaving Loki so quickly and hastily but you knew it was for the best. You weren’t meant for any kind of fairytale life and staying with him while he was so controlling and had become so dark wasn’t a valid option for you. You wanted to live life, not struggle through it.

And so, you made a small jump to the ground and ran down the shimmering bifrost, running to the gates and off into the night alone.

Happy endings

Now I know...

#imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel loki #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu loki #loki laufeyson imagine #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki of asgard #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x y/n #loki x gender neutral reader #loki angst #mcu angst #marvel angst #loki marvel #marvel x you

[leighistired]

Out Loud

A Martin character study AO3 Link

“G’night mum, love you.”

“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”

At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.

“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”

“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.

“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”

“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.

“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”

He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.

Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.

“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.

“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.

“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”

“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.

Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.

“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”

“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.

When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.

Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can��t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.

He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.

“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.

“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.

“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”

“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”

Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”

Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.

Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.

Then he gets transferred to the Archives.

Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.

Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.

When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.

Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.

As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”

“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.

“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”

“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”

Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.

He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.

It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.

“Jon?” He calls gently.

“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”

“And you should be home.”

“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”

“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”

“What?”

“Er...forget I-”

“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”

“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”

“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”

Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.

The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.

After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.

“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”

Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.

“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”

“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.

“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”

“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”

“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”

He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.

After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.

Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?

With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.

When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.

“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”

It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”

“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”

Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.

“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”

“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.

Damn it.

Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.

He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.

“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.

“Stay safe,” Jon says.

“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.

Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.

Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.

Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.

Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.

Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.

After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.

He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”

He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.

When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.

The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.

“I really loved you, you know?”

And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.

Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.

He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.

“Jon,” he whispers.

“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.

“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.

When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.

They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’

“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.

“But I do.”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jonathan sims #I wrote a fic #this was supposed to be posted on valentines day

[sage-nebula]

Top 5 Jounouchi moments

5.) “I’ll never give up on myself, or on you! So you don’t give up either, okay, Yuugi?”

There’s a whole lot more to this scene than just that line, but basically: during Death-T, when they’re locked in the falling block room but before the blocks start to fall, Yuugi has a minor freakout because he thinks it’s his fault that everyone is stuck inside there with him. In return, Jounouchi has a minor freakout because he’s upset that Yuugi is blaming himself. And that’s all well and good, but what makes this scene stand out for Jounouchi is that he ends up opening up to Yuugi (and Honda and Anzu, since they were also present) about how much he used to absolutely hate himself but how that changed when he met Yuugi and returned the piece of the Puzzle he stole. This is significant in a couple ways:

One, Death-T happens smack in the middle of the school arc, and so it’s still fairly early in the series. When the manga starts, Jounouchi is chock full of toxic masculinity that informs his behavior and choices, and part of that toxic masculinity is a refusal to be vulnerable with others, or to show any kind of sensitivity. See: how he didn’t want to admit that he believed in fortune telling in chapter . . . four, I think it was, and so he blamed them going to see the fortune teller on Anzu rather than admit that he was the one who wanted them all to go. But here, he’s opening up and revealing vulnerabilities about himself. He’s admitting that he used to absolutely hate who he was, that he took his self-hatred out on Yuugi, and that he started to like himself for the very first time when he returned the piece of the Puzzle he stole. He’s being vulnerable in front of his friends, which is something that he absolutely would not have done at the start of the manga. It’s a significant point of growth for his character.

Two, it’s also significant because the reason he’s doing it is not for himself, but rather for Yuugi, which is something consistent with Jounouchi’s character throughout the manga. Jounouchi is incredibly selfless and would quite literally die for those he loves. Here he’s vulnerable not because he wants the others to know that he has had horrific self-esteem throughout his life, but rather because he wants to show Yuugi just how important Yuugi is to him and make it plain that Jounouchi himself is better off because he has Yuugi in his life. He makes sure that Yuugi knows that Jounouchi will always believe in him and always be there for him and presses Yuugi to acknowledge the same. This is especially poignant considering the next chapter, wherein Yuugi tells Jounouchi and Anzu about Atem, and Jounouchi once again reaffirms that he will always consider Yuugi his best friend, no matter what other spirit resides in him (or the Puzzle as the case may be). It’s just a really beautiful moment.

4.) If you tell Jounouchi he’s going to die, he will face an Egyptian God and walk backwards into life.

Sure, he “lost” the duel. (“Lost” being in quotation marks because if they weren’t playing with holograms the attack would have counted and he would have won.) But the fact remains that Jounouchi Katsuya played a Shadow Game against an Egyptian God and not only tanked the hit, but even though he did die, that death was temporary. A direct attack from an Egyptian God during a Shadow Game only managed to kill him temporarily. He spent, what, a handful of hours in that hospital bed, tops? A handful of hours and he was back on his feet like nothing ever happened. And it’s not even like this was some random-ass Shadow Game either. This particular Shadow Game delivered direct damage to his body / life force with every Life Point he lost. He took hit, after hit, after hit, with the finishing blow being the fires of Ra and he still managed to survive. Like, yes, he died for a little while. For a couple hours. But then he woke up and was fine. And he’s not like other characters in this series, who are reincarnations of ancient Egyptian mages or who have Millennium Items backing them up. Nope, he’s just a punk from the wrong side of the tracks who is too goddamn stubborn and determined to live to be killed. Whether gang leaders (Hirutani), professional serial killers (Chopperman), revenge-driven Millennium Item wielders (Malik), or actual gods (Ra), no one can kill Jounouchi Katsuya for long, and that’s goddamn amazing.

3.) Throwing Hirutani off the roof and out of his life.

Okay, listen. We all know that I love the Trash King Bitch himself and that I do wish that he had come back later on in the manga, even though he wouldn’t have any interest in Duel Monsters and so it wouldn’t make much sense for him to be involved in those arcs. Despite this, though, I have to say that I do love how his part in the story wrapped up for Jounouchi. When we first saw Hirutani, Jounouchi (understandably) had to be saved by Atem. He didn’t get to settle things with Hirutani on his own terms. So when Hirutani comes back in chapters 48/49, Jounouchi gets a chance to settle the score and close the book on that part of his life for good, for himself. Yes, at first he’s put into a bit of a jam when HIrutani has Yuugi literally hanged by the Millennium Puzzle, but Jounouchi manages to save him, and then—with Yuugi’s encouragement—is able to tell Hirutani to go screw himself when Hirutani suggests that Yuugi will be safe so long as Jounouchi complies with what he wants (which Jounouchi did consider, until Yuugi spoke up and said that would never happen, giving Jounouchi the strength to agree). But even without my own Wishshipping bias, the entire fight on the roof was just [chef’s kiss]. Hirutani reminiscing about their past in an attempt to sway Jounouchi’s feelings, Jounouchi winning the fight despite Hirutani throwing glass in his eyes, and then finally, knocking Hirutani off the roof of the warehouse. It was a way to win the fight, yes, but it was also symbolic. He knocked Hirutani off the roof and out of his life. He closed the door on that relationship for good, and it was a very poignant and important moment for him that often gets overlooked.

2.) “Yuugi, I will stand with you on the edge of the River Styx . . . but I won’t let you cross over!”

Everything about the scene where Jounouchi saves Yuugi from the Black Crown fire is just . . . [chef’s kiss] Let me count the ways in which this scene is incredible:

1.) Jounouchi realizes pretty quickly that Yuugi will not leave that raging inferno without putting the Puzzle back together and freeing it from the table. He just won’t. And instead of continuing to fight with him about it, Jounouchi quickly takes control of the situation and tells everyone else to get the hell out while he stays behind to help Yuugi. Once everyone else is out of harm’s way, Jounouchi calmly stands there amongst the raging flames and thinks the above line. He’s literally willing to stand at the edge of death with Yuugi, no matter how bad the flames or the smoke is, but he’s equally as determined to make sure that Yuugi lives. But even setting aside my Wishshipping bias (again), I feel that this is such an incredible display of Jounouchi’s character, particularly in contrast to how horribly the anime liked to portray him. Jounouchi quickly analyzed the situation, took command of the others there and got them to safety, and then held his composure in the middle of an inferno while he watched over Yuugi. He thinks quickly on his feet, he’s decisive, he’s strong, and he’s resilient, and this scene showed all of those qualities beautifully.

2.) Jounouchi is the one who figures out how to free the Puzzle after Yuugi has put it back together (and Yuugi has passed out). Although Atem does manage to psychically connect with Jounouchi while Jounouchi is trying to pry Yuugi’s fingers off the Puzzle, in the manga all he says is Jounouchi’s name; Jounouchi is the one who spots the pipe and uses it as a wrench against the table to free the Puzzle from where it was stuck, declaring loudly that they were not going to die in that fire as he did so. Again, he’s resourceful and thinks quickly on his feet. Any characterization of Jounouchi as stupid just because he has bad grades and his mouth runs before his brain catches up sometimes is flat out wrong, as proven by this scene here.

3.) And finally, that scene where he carries Yuugi out of the flames . . . absolutely beautiful, a masterful work of art, 10/10, even better in the fully colored version of the manga. He holds Yuugi in a bridal carry and gets him out of that burning building, making good on his word to not let Yuugi die there. Absolutely immaculate. [chef’s kiss]

1.) Sacrificing himself to save Yuugi at the pier.

Anyone who didn’t see this coming just does not know me at all, but yeah, the pier duel is my absolute favorite part of the manga for so many reasons, and again, I feel like I have to count the ways here:

1.) First of all, it is impossible to talk about this without talking about how Jounouchi managed to break the Millennium Rod’s power over him. As stated above, Jounouchi is just a boy from a broken home. He doesn’t have an Ancient Egyptian preincarnation, he doesn’t have magic powers, he doesn’t have a magical artifact. All he has to his name is ¥600 and unmitigated gall. And yet, despite practically anyone casting him aside as unremarkable, he and he alone managed to completely break the power the Millennium Rod held over him, through nothing but sheer determination. This is, again, not talked about very much, despite it being one of (if not the) most remarkable feats in the entire manga canon. No other character managed anything even remotely close to this. But although the Rod held Jounouchi for a time, just like Ra’s attack, the effect only lasted for a handful of hours. Jounouchi throws off the chokehold of dark magic in a handful of hours like it’s nothing. His audacity is unparalleled and I love him for it so much.

2.) Jounouchi’s connection with the Red-Eyes Black Dragon is never explained, but it’s extremely present both here and when he comes back to life later on (which in-universe is like two days later, tops, because so much happens in so little time in YGO), but it’s still worth remarking upon. In this particular instance, Red-Eyes was on Yuugi’s side of the field. The duel was over. There was absolutely no reason for Red-Eyes to react or listen to Jounouchi at all. But when Jounouchi called for her, her eyes flared to life and she attacked him as he requested before her hologram vanished. That moment will always stick out to me, particularly since we don’t know why Red-Eyes has such a connection to Jounouchi, but she very obviously does in a way that we see with only a few other humans and monsters in the series. 

3.) Jounouchi Tarzan-swinging across the pier on the chain of his handcuff and swiping Yuugi’s key before they’re both dragged into the ocean is just an admirable feat of athleticism and dexterity that is just [chef’s kiss]. Sure, he doesn’t have enough time to unlock Yuugi before the anchor drops, but he has enough time to grab Yuugi’s key, and considering how tiny that key was and how deep the box that held it was, that’s still pretty impressive.

4.) And finally, the big one . . . although Jounouchi’s self-esteem definitely got better after he befriended Yuugi, there’s a huge difference between “better” and “good”. Jounouchi doesn’t give up, he refuses to go down without swinging, he doesn’t take kindly to others putting him down. But while Jounouchi doesn’t take insults from others lying down, that doesn’t stop him from insulting himself or from feeling very badly about himself and his own capabilities. He’s very quick to blame himself for things entirely beyond his control, and to feel that those failures are a result of his own inadequacies. For example, he blamed himself for Shizuka being afraid to remove her bandages, saying that it was his fault and that he wasn’t good enough to give her the courage that she needed. This was the entire reason why he entered Battle City: so that he could give her the courage she needed. (And then he stays in Battle City to fight Malik and help Yuugi, but that’s a digression.)

The reason why this is important is because part of feeling like you’re inadequate, like you’re responsible for whatever goes wrong, like you’re a screw-up who will never be good enough, is also feeling like you’re not really deserving of the love or respect of other people. Again, it seems a bit paradoxical to say that’s the case with Jounouchi given how he’ll talk himself up when it comes to certain subjects and how he doesn’t stand for others belittling him, but a.) his bravado is often false, and b.) just because he won’t let others bully him doesn’t mean he won’t bully himself. When it comes to Jounouchi’s loved ones, he puts them on a pedestal and therefore, on some level, sees them as being better than him. Shizuka and Yuugi can do no wrong, so whatever goes wrong in their lives is probably his fault somehow, whether it’s because he caused it or because he can’t fix it. And he always needs to be better, to be deserving of the love they give him. He needs to earn it, you know? (In his eyes, at least; you know they wouldn’t agree with that.)

All of this is relevant because Yuugi telling Jounouchi that he loves him here just . . . shakes Jounouchi to his core. As Yuugi is giving his little speech, Jounouchi actually tells him to stop, not only because he can tell what’s likely going to happen after (because after all, Yuugi said that he wanted to buy enough time to say what he wanted to say), but also because hearing that someone loves him, and loves him so strongly, is basically earth-shattering for him. To be clear, in Japanese culture people don’t really say “I love you” to each other. Culturally, it’s just not a thing at all to tell your friends that you love them. Even married couples very rarely say it. It’s like a “you might say it on your death bed” kind of thing. The word that Yuugi used, too, is incredibly strong; “daisuki” is basically “head exploding levels of love and affection.” There’s a reason why, in stories like this, it’s usually reserved for dramatic confessions of love. But setting my Wishshipping bias aside once again, I’m not bringing this up to make an argument of how much this comes across as a romantic confession (though it does), but rather to explain just how strongly that would affect Jounouchi. To hear Yuugi say “I love you” using a word as strong as “daisuki” . . . I doubt he was able to even fully process how that made him feel until days later, much less in the minute he had before Yuugi’s life points hit zero and the anchor dropped. For someone who feels as if he’s never been good enough, for someone who has to deal with the fact that his own parents don’t love him . . . being told that someone he cherishes and holds so highly does love him is beyond profound.

But then, to build on that — the anchor drops, they’re dragged under the ocean waves, Jounouchi frees Yuugi from the cuff. He apologizes . . . and then he says thank you with a soft smile on his face. Jounouchi knows he’s going to die (although he is going to try to use the key on his own cuff just in case), but he’s still thanking Yuugi while smiling. He’s thanking Yuugi for loving him. He is, indirectly, saying that he loves Yuugi, too. And he smiles as Yuugi’s eyes open a little, because if nothing else he wants Yuugi’s last image of him to be one of him smiling in gratitude and love.

Excuse me while I go cry at this beautiful and poignant moment. 

(But also yes, the entire scene really does come off as a romantic confession, especially in the original Japanese, and especially when you compare it to romantic confessions in other manga aimed at the same demographic, and if one of them was a girl there wouldn’t even be a question about whether it was romantic or not, thank you and goodnight.)

#top 5 meme #yugioh #jounouchi katsuya #wishshipping #(since it's in there I couldn't help it) #yuujou #Anonymous

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 1

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags:  Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

(The way overdue long-form version of the Foster Sib AU I wrote for @szajnie for Secret Santa 2020.)

music: Asynchronous With You by burokkurubeats & my playlist

He wasn't the first child.

Somehow he had expected to be.

A girl his age, age six, and her older cousin had already been living here for a year now.

They had family, they were just… deemed unfit.

Maybe they'll take them back, when they get their act together. He doesn't know. He only knows he doesn't have the luxury of hope that they do.

Nobody was coming back to get him.

And he had nowhere to go back to.

The foster lady with the ruby red eyes showed him his bedroom.

At first, Naruto thought Hinata and Neji were close, so much so that no one could ever be closer.

Then he thought it was their tactic to keep others out, self-preservation in blood.

Hinata was nice enough, but she never strayed far from Neji.

That was because he never let her.

She wasn't just fiercely loyal to him. She was scared of him.

He tried to get Neji in trouble. Kurenai-obachan needed to know. But Hinata stopped him. She told him not to split them apart. That she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. She would never be okay if she didn't know where her cousin was.

So he tried. But it was hard. He still picked fights with Neji.

That didn't make Hinata happier, either.

He still thinks it's Neji's fault when she finally breaks down, telling them both off before running to her room.

He runs after her, but she won't let him in.

He goes to his room and talks to her through his wall. He has to press himself flat against it, straining to hear any sound.

Could she hear him, too?

"I'll leave Neji alone, okay?" It's a bitter promise, because it makes him feel like he's surrendered when he did nothing wrong. But part of him also feels tired of this pattern day in and day out. He'd rather spend his time better.

The silence stretched passed the point of comfort, and he pictured tomorrow, a tomorrow where Hinata may hate him. Enough to shun him in his own home. And would he really do what he's always done to others to her? Would he really go that far for attention?

His unconscious concerns spilled out, running through his fingers before he could stuff the words back in and swallow them. "Hinata… can I bug you instead?" He flinches and freezes, and he waits.

It's faint, but he heard her.

"Sure," she said.

His shoulders lowered as he slouched down the wall, the tension leaking from his body and he smiled.

Their early years would be shaped by a secret language shared between the two of them from that moment on, where a pinch on the arm and a retaliatory swat was a polite exchange in the morning. Where a "missing" item from their bedrooms was an excuse to search the house together, and where a stolen item was an invitation to enter each other's bedrooms. Hinata really liked to show him her new collection of pressed flowers, and he really liked to show her his latest Gachapon figurine. Whenever that happened, it was usually one of those new things that went "missing" shortly after.

It wasn't that Kurenai-obasan didn't spoil him as much as them, he could have new things all the time, too. But she hadn't been planning on taking him, she hadn't been prepared for him. If he wanted more things, Hinata would have to have less.

And the time he could spend with her was more than enough for him.

____________________________

Halfway through their grade school years their secret games waned. Being in the same grade helped to keep them in touch throughout the day, but at lunch time she was Neji's, and after school she was Neji's. That's just how it was.

But they were maturing. Their experiences were expanding. They had so much to talk about.

But how could they? It had to be at bedtime. And because it had to be bedtime, they had to be quiet.

He got the idea to drill a hole into their bedroom wall so that way they could easily whisper and not get caught.

That was one of his first thrills: vandalism.

"I think you mean 'home improvement'," Hinata giggled.

He had to process that.

He never realized until then that he still hadn't considered this his home.

Thanks to Kurenai-obasan, he had food in his belly and a roof over his head. He had a bed, some video games, and a safe route to school.

Thanks to Neji, he had a model of masculinity. Not a role model, mind you, but a model nonetheless. Some things about Neji were cool, even admirable. And other things he would never do in his life. They were both abandoned, confused and alone, sure. But it was always annoying how Neji couldn't help but look back. Naruto always had to look forward.

Maybe the way they both did things was equally imperfect.

He smiled to himself, as this is where he had to thank Hinata, for she kept them both grounded and present. Because that's how she lives her life, like each day is a gift not to be squandered.

Who cares about being hurt yesterday? Who cares about what hasn't happened yet?

Right now, at this moment, he was home.

This was his home.

____________________________

Girls at school always cupped their ears when they were eavesdropping. They cup their mouths when they're telling secrets or bad-mouthing others.

Hinata cups her ear around the hole in their wall when he's telling her stories. And she cups her mouth when she's telling him hers.

Her ears are sensitive, so he tries to watch his volume. He forgets himself when he gets excitable.

Her breath tickles and teases a memory from his brain, one that fills him with both sadness and relief.

When he tries to sleep, he searches for the root of this feeling.

The next day on television, there's a mother murmuring her baby to sleep.

He adopts that image as his own forgotten memory.

And the following night, Hinata's soothing whispers confirm that he had a mother once, and she used to sing him to sleep.

____________________________

Hinata's a wimp.

He loves the girl, but at school she is a gosh damn trouble magnet.

He jumps in front of her bullies, fists blazing, and he loses.

A lot.

But he gets to pick fights again. He gets to be cool from time to time. And when he gets better, he becomes the best. He gets a reputation!

By the time they reach fifth grade, he doesn't even have to raise a fist.

A well-aimed death glare is enough.

When Neji's graduation forces the two cousins apart for the first time in their lives, the older Hyuuga undergoes a personality shift.

He expresses legitimate concern for Hinata.

Maybe it's been there all along.

They're both standing on the empty landing just outside of their elementary's gymnasium where the remainder of the proceedings were taking place. Neji's stare, heavy with expectations and ultimatum, bore down on his little shoulders.

"You're the only one I can ask."

"Yeah, don't worry. I got this!" Naruto flashed his patent overconfident grin, and this time not a hint of condescension passed across Neji's face.

His heart thumped wildly when he and Neji returned to the gymnasium, with Neji returning to his position amongst the other students in the center of the room. Family members lined up against the walls in foldable metal chairs, a spattering of pride and loss playing out across their faces; Their children were growing up.

When Naruto took his seat, he stole a glance at Hinata on the other side of Kurenai-obasan. Her gentle profile seemed to unlock something inside of him. Waves upon waves of warmth filled his body, pulling him in deeper into a languid pool of contentment.

He would be her protector from now on.

He would be her brother.

____________________________

He never noticed how their paths lead each other further and further apart.

Their daily routines had remained the same.

Aside from a few exciting developments.

Like Kurenai reconnecting with a childhood friend. The man was a Marine and a chainsmoker, but he seemed cool.

Or how Naruto happened to find a collection of discarded skin mags behind the pool storage room at school. They now safely occupied the space beneath his bed.

There was also the neighborhood shrimp squad of grade-schoolers who loved to call him 'Boss' whenever he came over to play.

Or that time he was hanging out with Sasuke, and unusually the stoic lad had insulted a group of delinquents before he did at the local arcade.

Sasuke may have taken out four guys by the time Naruto took out one, but he still got the win.

But way, way before all of that something had really surprised him: Hinata becoming Deputy Class Rep to their own Haruno Sakura.

She was volunteered for the position based on her equally outstanding grades. Or, at least that's what they had believed.

Over time, it became apparent that they had volunteered Hinata to be Sakura's foil. Hinata was considerate and much more approachable. If the students wanted something, they went straight to Hinata first.

But then her unchanged nature became more detectable.

Like he's said before, Hinata's a wimp.

She crumbles at the slightest disapproval.

She implodes when she's convinced she could do better. When she thinks she's failing.

So halfway through their first year, she started to get abused. Girls and boys alike tried to strongarm her into making their lives 'better'. Making her fetch their lunches and dumping cleaning duty on her every day, then throwing her words back at her when she tried to complain. They'd say, 'But it's what you signed up for', and 'Isn't this your job? Don't you care about your classmates?'.

Somehow Sakura never noticed. He tried to tell her, but she didn't take him seriously. He tried to tell the teachers, but they acted like he had no evidence.

Liars! They just didn't want to get involved! What good are teachers if they don't help their students?!

Some weeks later, the following exams were posted outside the classroom.

Sakura was number two, just below Ino. They were always competing for the top, always unevenly dethroning the other.

Hinata was number three. Always suspiciously number three. And he was dead last.

Hinata could rise to the top, but she never tries.

He always tries, but he can never seem to rise.

He realized then that he hasn't been doing enough as her brother.

Compared to her, he has no future, no potential. It wouldn't be a waste if he took on her burdens.

He can take abuse, because during those first six years at a state-run orphanage, abuse was all he knew.

He realized what he had to do. Resiliency was one of his best traits, after all.

The following day, he took Hinata's place as the class slave. He fetched their lunches, got them drinks whenever they asked. The only thing they never asked him to do was their homework. Because… yeah.

Nobody knew they lived together.

If they did, well, he might've been forced to copy Hinata's assignments all the same.

He never noticed how their paths lead them apart, how their daily routines boxed them into two different social spheres never to overlap.

He was still her brother. Her protector.

But by high school, he'd also become the embodiment of trouble itself.

And he couldn't let that stuff disrupt her life.

____________________________

Naruto’s sprawled belly-down on the sofa playing on his Vita handheld when Kurenai-obasan calls out to him as she’s emerging from the laundry room.

“Naruto, I’ve stared at this hamper for three weeks,” She drops the hamper at her feet with a weighty thump for emphasis. “Are you going to do it or not?”

“I just forgot.” He surreptitiously powers off his game and abandons his handheld on the sofa as he ambles off the couch.

He’s dramatic when he slouches his shoulders and drags his feet, head lolling backwards in anguish. He hauls the hamper back inside the laundry room. He doesn’t look when he opens the washing machine and dumps his clothes into the drum. But the pile is sticking up. He tries to smash it all down, but he can’t. It’s already full.

“Crap.” He scoops out his month-old laundry in four armfuls and disposes them at his feet. He reaches in to grab the damp garments sticking to the sides of the drum, then begins to throw them into the dryer. At least that’s empty.

He doesn’t notice the butter yellow hoodie with white polka dots on the kangaroo pocket. Or the frilly linen top that needs to be dried on the line. Or the no-show socks with rabbits on them.

Once the drum was cleared out, he hurled his fermented clothes into the washer and started up both machines.

He went back to his game for several hours. Kurenai had to remind him to dry his clothes as she delivered the dryer’s contents to Hinata’s room. This was because Hinata was at cram school.

As he moved his items to the dryer, he recalled how Neji had done cram school too before moving onto a prestigious high school deep in the city center.

Naruto never knew whether to be jealous or not. School work was utterly useless and he didn’t envy the workload of overachievers, but maybe that was only because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe if he were smarter, he’d appreciate it better. Or maybe he’d figure out more ingenious ways to skip it all.

He played his game in the laundry room, waiting for the final ding to go off. He used the same dirty hamper to gather up his clean clothes and dragged it inside his room, where he promptly dumped it all out on his bed. Fresh laundry was intoxicating and he didn’t fight the urge to belly flop into the softener-drenched warmth.

He deeply inhaled as he sank into the heat. His cheek felt particularly nice against this satin material.

His left eye opened a peek. Vanilla and lavender stripes met his eye, with a rose lace and ribbon trim along the waistband.

He shot upright, his face no longer hot from the laundry, but hot with horrified embarrassment. He stared at the garment like it might come to life, jump on him and eat his face. It hadn’t so far.

‘It should be fine to pick them up, right?’ He thought with his frozen hand stretched out.

Why was he acting weird about this? They used to mix their laundry up all the time when they were younger. It’s actually how Hinata acquired a love of hoodies in the first place, because she loved to wear the beige one Obasan got him. She can pull off softer colors, but he can’t, so it was easily hers from that moment on.

He plucked up her panties by their corners and held it away, like it were an envelope full of Ricin, and he gazed at it mindlessly. Somehow they were exactly what he expected Hinata to wear, they were girly and cute.

Pale skin flashed before his eyes, a taboo image of Hinata in these panties, lifting her pleated uniform skirt up had startled him and he dropped the undergarments with a yelp.

Did he really just imagine her that way?

Naruto tried to smack the stupid from his mind until his cheeks burned with physical pain, then with everything he could muster, he snatched up the pair and ran for her bedroom, adding it unceremoniously to her hamper of clean clothes.

He pretended to be asleep by the time she got home.

He ignored the sweet voice that slid through the hole in the wall until she gave up and stopped calling him.

There was simply no way he could hold a conversation with her after that experience.

And to think he had to rely on his skin mags to purge him of his sin.

____________________________

Weightlifting was doing wonders for him.

For starters, it was taking his mind off of his libido.

For another, his physique was changing. He was starting to sprout up, too. Hinata’s former bullies were starting to learn some new feelings, like reluctance and fear. They eventually moved onto the freshman to enslave, leaving him alone to finally live his final year of middle school the way he always wanted.

The more he did weights, the more girls started to look his way, not just at Sasuke-teme.

Life was looking good!

Is what he thought when he was hanging out on the roof with Sasuke and two Ojou-gyaru types. One girl was straddling Sasuke while Naruto spooned the other girl from behind.

A dire thought hit him when he realized only six months remained until graduation. A choice he had been overlooking was rapping its knuckles against his temple, and he could hardly shoo it away.

“Hey.” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke.

“Hn?”

“Where are you going for High School?”

Sasuke turned his head up towards the sky. He was pensively silent. Then he shrugged. “I’m going to stay here.”

“So you’re going to Konoha Normal High?”

“Just like everyone else.” Sasuke said.

‘Everyone else’ didn’t include Hinata, and he was supposed to stick close to her.

How suspicious would it be if he chose to follow her to her high school?

What if he couldn’t? What if she was following the same path as Neji?

Neji would be there until her senior year. Was his responsibility to the both of them over already?

Naruto would later get a text from Obasan that she would be spending the night with Asuma.

K-Obasan: There’s curry udon in the fridge.

He narrowed his eyes at the text.

Just because you add noodles to leftover curry doesn’t make it a Naruto-approved dinner!

“Udon’s not even the same thing!”

His steps slowed in the school corridor. It was enough for his rooftop date to catch up with him.

“Your face looks weird when you’re glum.” She giggled as she poked his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, I just realized I’m about to go home and no one’s going to be waiting for me.”

“Oh?” She circled her arms around his own and leaned in close. “Good for us, huh?”

His eyes widened with realization. A goofy grin stretched across his face, the corners curling lasciviously.

‘Yeah,’ he thought, ‘I’m owed this.’

____________________________

Author Note: I'm forgoing the one-shot because I still don't have that kind of discipline. ;D I'll definitely try to finish this short story to the end. I had received some good title suggestions for this story, but I ended up going with another song name because I can't seem to do anything else. ¯\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯

I'm still going to try to adhere to the canon of the original fic to the best of my ability. I would totally declare this new canon, honestly, but then it'd be a Secret Dating fic with smut and it would never line up with what I already wrote. 😓

Anyways, I hope you liked this so far!

#naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #naruto x hinata #asynchronous with you fanfiction #foster sibling au #chapter one #chapter 1 #ch 1

[shi-daisy]

Mutual Enduring

Hello everyone! Today on the wavewave agenda we have a whump two-shot! With a side of humanformers (they're still from cybetron and age like in canon but they look and act human) Slightly warning for mentions of torture and some sexy stuff.

Continuity: Fan continuity (mostly a mix of IDW 1 and TFP)

@wavewave-week

Wavewave Week- Day 4- Power/Affection

He hated the feeling of cold metal against his skin, the needles, the darkness, the restraints that caused his arms and legs to go numb, but most of all he hated remembering.

The memories of the night the empurata was performed on him were memories he purpusely supressed, the only thing m he couldn't be rid off was the pain, at least not without medication.

Both he and Breakdown had been captured by MECH, neither could manage to escape or free themselves. It was an illogical outcome, that humans had gotten the best of two Cybertronians, but alas his current predicament was proof that it was possible.

He didn't know where Breakdown was, or if he was still alive, but if he managed to escape he'd look for him. He owed the man that much after he took a hit for him.

"Shockwave!" A female voice called out. He heard an alarm sound along with footsteps and gunfire. Just what was happening outside his room.

His was fading in and out of consciousness, but he could see the wall falling apart. Some people had taken down the door.

The voice from before called him again, it was louder and more distinct, as he could now recognize.

"Monochrome?" He muttered. His throat was raspy from dehydration and he couldn't speak properly.

"Yes it's me. Don't worry we're here to get you out."

"Breakdown, is he...?"

"He's safe, he's the one who told us you were still here and alive." he recognized Knockout's distinct voice as the medic began undoing his restraints. He didn't sound too chirpy however. "Just what did they do to you?!"

He couldn't answer, but deduced the man was asking about the peeled skin of his arms, or the scars on his chest. Even if the room was more illuminated now, he still couldn't properly discern the silouttes of his comrades.

"We'll carry you out. Just hold on until we get to the Nemesis. Please Shockwave! Please try to hold on!"

He could feel her tears falling on him. Why? Why would she cry for him? Why would anyone cry for him? They both carried him away from the building, setting the place ablaze as they escaped.

Outside it was nighttime, the stars looked so tiny from here, or maybe that was his vision failing him again.

There were more voices in the distance, getting closer. Obsidian, Strika, even Breakdown was there although he sounded much different. There was one voice however he was not expecting, at least not in such a desperate manner.

Soundwave's melodic voice was so strained, he was asking a myriad of questions in rapid fire to both Knockout and Monochrome. The medics had to calm him down as everyone finally headed towards the arriving Nemesis.

Shockwave's conciousness was slipping, the last thing her remembered was holding onto Soundwave's hand as he was weekend away to the medbay.

***

Soundwave has never felt as powerless as he did at this moment. Well, except perhaps for the time he found Shockwave after his empurata.

Both tragedies had been similar. The man he loved was covered in blood and in desperate need of care. The first tragedy he'd survived, but forgotten who he was before it, what he had before being turned into an emotionless man who simply cared for logic. The second was still unfolding, and all Soundwave could do was pray that he survived. Even if he changed once more, even if that small spark of remembrance was gone.

"Why is it taking so long?!" He asked, throwing the glass he was holding to the wall, where it shattered to bits.

Rumble and Frenzy both looked surprised but didn't question it, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had fallen asleep, while Ravage and Megatron had just arrived at the scene.

"Soundwave stop!"

He froze upon hearing Megatron yell. The tall man also looked to be worried, but no one could tell for certain.

"I'm concerned for Shockwave's health as well but stressing like this won't help anyone. He's receiving medical attention, all that's left to do now is to wait.

When he's well, he'll need support, especially yours. You must be in good health as well."

He nodded, still nervous and mad. His superior must've noticed as he pulled him into a hug. While they were close he knew Megatron was not the type to be affectionate in public. He returned the hug, holding back the tears and simply letting himself go.

It too a while for the two to separate. Ravege then took over comfort duties and purred as he nuzzled his friend. Soundwave picked him up and pet him as he waited outside the medbay. After what seemed like an eternity, Monochrome came out of the room, her scrubs were covered in blood but she was smiling.

"He's okay. His organs were fine and all we had to do was place some skin grafts and rehydration serum. You may see him now if you like, he'll be up soon." The dark skinned woman yawned. "I however will be going to bed."

"Go, I'll join you soon enough." Megatron told her.

She nodded and left. His superior turned to look at him. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's fine. Go with your wife, I'm sure she's tired after all of this, and so are you. Thank you sir, and please thank Monochrome on my behalf too.

Megatron nodded before leaving. Rumble and Frenzy took care of the pets before he headed inside, hoping Shockwave wouldn't forget even more.

***

The two people he first saw were Knockout and Breakdown. The medic was changing his gloves and coat while Breakdown spoke to him from his bed. His tanned skin was covered in bandages, and he wore an eyepatch. He soon noticed that Shockwave was awake.

"Shockwave! You're awake!" Breakdown beamed. "I'm glad you're okay. It seems like we'll be matching now." He joked as he pointed to his eyepatch.

How? How could he endure such torture and still be smiling like that? It was one of the many questions his research wouldn't answer.

"It's satisfactory to know you were rescued and alive. Thank you for your concern Breakdown."

"Anytime."

Knockout walked over to his side. "May I give you a quick check up now that you're awake? I have to know if you have any lingering pain."

He would've laughed but he didn't have the energy to be sarcastic at the moment, he simply nodded and let the medic examine him.

Someone else came into the room, it was Soundwave. His blue hair was a mess and his eyes looked as if he'd been crying. Neither Breakdown nor Knockout seemed surprised.

"Medically you're fine. Don't take off these bandages in at least two days, they're waterproof and soft so they'll allowed you to sleep and bathe, if you don't have anything else you need me to look at you should be good to go."

Shockwave nodded and tried to stand, but he would've fallen down face first had Soundwave not picked him up. "I'll carry you."

He didn't protest as the other man carried him away or when they arrived at Soundwave's room instead of his lab.

"I volunteered to care for you. Tomorrow you can go to the lab, but tonight you should rest. I'll ready a bath for you and make you food."

He stayed silent and seated on Soundwave's bed as the blue haired man ran around the room. He put his sons and pets to bed and was now serving him dinner.

Why was he always so caring? The two of them knew eachother for milenia, Soundwave was the only person he remembered after the shadowplay and empurata experiments performed on him, yet no matter how hard he tried to remember he couldn't recall anything else. Were they once close? He couldn't say, but that seemed like the most likely hypothesis.

"Food's ready."

"Soundwave."

"Yes? Is anything wrong? Do you want something else? Maybe you'd rather take the bath first, sorry I can reheat the soup after, no worries."

"No no! I'm fine. I just ...I must ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"Why do you care so much for me? Our fields of work are vastly different, as are our social circles and our personalities yet you constantly look out for me...You're also the only person I can remember from my old life. Why is that? Can you give me an answer?"

"I can, but not now. We can talk before we sleep. I promise."

He decided to trust his comrade. After eating and taking a bath he was ready to speak with Soundwave. He sat beside him on the bed waiting for him to speak.

Soundwave was trembling, as if he was terrified of speaking. Shockwave was not good at dealing with emotional people but somehow he knew what to do.

His hands fell upon Soundwave's fair face, their red gaze was full of tears but he didn't look away. Soundwave placed his hand over his tenderly.

It seemed he was finally ready to answer him.

***

"I love you. I've loved you for centuries. Before the war happened and you were tortured, we were sparkmates... Then you were taken from me, and I thought I'd spend my life pinning for that version of you, but I didn't, because I love you still. Even if you don't remember, even if you're more alligned with logic than emotion, even if you don't love me back. I still love you Shockwave."

It wasn't in his nature to be surprised, but he would've never expected this answer.

It made sense, he'd seen how the couples of the Nemesis acted, or even human pairs. The fact that despite their distance Soundwave was so caring towards him, or that he'd be the only one his mind refused to forget. Even now, he seemed to know what the other wanted without voicing it.

Soundwave thought he'd faint when he felt Shockwave's lips over his. He'd always been a greedy kisser, even in their youth. He'd sometimes surprise Soundwave with a deep kiss before parting ways, other times he'd simply seduced him with his soft voice and clever hands.

After letting go they both took a moment to intensely memorize the other's face. Shockeave hadn't changed much save for his missing eye, which was now made of glass, and the scars upon his neck and arms that hadn't faded in centuries. Soundwave looked almost the same, but his built was stronger and he was now as tall as Shockwave.

"You taste as good as I remembered." He whispered. "I've missed you."

"Soundwave, are you certain I'm what you desire? There are other cons who'd give you the affection you crave, the affection you deserve. I don't know if I'll ever be the man you first fell in love with."

"Shockwave, I'm certain that you're the only one I want. Whether you're a kind senator or a serious scientist or a combination of both. I love every aspect of you."

That was all the confirmation he needed. He kissed Soundwave again, this time the blue haired man seemed to melt into the gesture, giving all control to him. Shockwave smirked as he gently bit Soundwave's bottom lip.

"Mmh! Seems like you haven't forgotten that."

"I've bitten you before?"

"Many times. You've left lots of marks. Not that I'm complaining."

Soundwave gently placed Shockwave upon the pillows. "And while I love your bites, I think I'd prefer spoiling you with kisses."

He let Soundwave do as he pleased. As promised the spymaster kissed his lips, cheeks, neck and even his chest. After three days of torture, this was exactly what he'd needed.

"Soundwave, let me kiss you too."

His heart raced when Shockeave pulled him into a kiss. Soundwave felt the scientist hands tangled in his hair, he kissed every inch he could get his lips on, and wouldn't let go until they were both breathless.

Sleep was taking over for them both. Soundwave pulled Shockwave close, careful not to worsen his injuries. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very much so."

"Good."

"I could tell you craved this. Your desperate touch, it breaks my heart."

"You don't need to worry about that, Shockwave. I'm fine now that you're with me.

I'll take care of you. And once you're better we'll hunt down the humans who hurt you and Breakdown. I promise."

"That's comforting to hear. But all I desire now is to sleep by your side. I intend to give you more affection tomorrow."

Soundwave smiled. "I'd like that. Goodnight dear."

"Goodnight."

Shockwave was not used to sleeping, much less with another person by his side, but the beating of Soundwave's heart and the feel of his arms around him was enough to grant him the most peaceful sleep he had in centuries.

#wavewave #wavewave-week #tf soundwave #tf shockwave #tf breakdown #tf knockout #tf rumble #tf frenzy #tf lazerbeak #tf buzzsaw #tf ravage #tf Megatron #tf oc #tf Monochrome #two-shot #mini fic #tw: torture

[twstheadcanons]

This is a lore question and a slightly specific one. Cater as a character and otherwise is super interesting to me but at the same time insanely confusing. While at first I thought he would end up having maybe slightly abusive family there's a possibility that's not the case. His sister's seem to enjoy dolling him up and his mother seems to go along with it and his father's a bit more absent. I think I would mainly like to know what his true self is truly reflecting and also if Trey seems to know about this 'true version'. Don't feel pressured to anwser this if you can't btw ❣️

Cater fans come get yall’s food.

S, iideally I’d go through events Cater’s prominent in (Beans Day, Halloween), but that would just make this whole post longer.  So I’ll be using Cater’s card stories for now.  What we know about Cater, on the surface level, is that he comes across as happy-go-lucky, energetic, social, trendy, superficial, flaky, and insensitive at times.  But that’s Cater on a surface level.

So for Cater, his major issues from his background are:

his family frequently moving to accommodate his father’s occupation as a banker

his sisters dragging him into their own interests that he was expected to accommodate as well

Cater repeatedly states he disliked getting dragged around by his sisters and having cutesy stuff he wasn’t genuinely interested in shoved into his face.  This would even happen on his birthday, where his sisters got him things they’re more likely to enjoy, which made Cater feel frustrated since he was supposed to be the focus on his own birthday.  But despite that annoyance, Cater understands his sisters didn’t really mean any harm.  From the sounds of it, they liked hanging out with Cater, and assumed that Cater enjoyed how they spent time together as well since Cater preferred to go with the flow, rather than rock the boat.  

In his Bday SSR, Cater mentions that his sisters became more considerate of his own interests and asked him what he wanted.  All three coming from a family where they move and lose close friends a lot, the sisters are probably close and want to stay close to their brother as well, since they’re the only consistent company in a similar age range.  His sisters are each other’s best friends, Cater didn’t have that growing up.  He also mentions his sisters and mother’s sweets-making kick, and how he eventually got over having sweets every day.  But when he protested, it’d disappoint and sadden them/they’d have dejected looks on their faces, which Cater didn’t know how to handle, so he made himself go along with their whims to keep them happy.  

This pours into his social media life, where he’s a peppy, cheery guy that posts upbeat content and responds with light, casual, carefree messages to people.  His Lab SR literally has him state that he ‘should always be happy and excited, after all’.  So, clearly, whatever dynamic the Diamond family has, while not what I’d call something as heavy as abuse, isn’t considerate of Cater’s feelings and views Cater’s ‘go with the flow’ ways as approval.  If he ‘breaks character’ of the devil-may-care person he is on the surface, it raises questions, and Cater would rather just avoid all that and enjoy himself instead of getting involved in anything heavy.

Again, Cater doesn’t like to rock the boat.  He also mentions in his Lab SR that this obsession with cutesy stuff became rather invasive, and he’d even be criticised or second-guessed if he didn’t go along with the idea.  Cater ends up accommodating that interest to prevent any debate, even if he didn’t actually care for them.  That said, with such an emphasis on aesthetics being the way he grew up, Cater has a good understanding and practical knowledge of decour and eye-catching designs, which makes him helpful and invaluable when the time calls for decour.  This is something Cater knows he’s good at, and enjoys showing off since the focus is on himself and he’s acknowledged for his skills.

With their family moving all the time, Caters gained and lost friends a lot.  Cater has an outgoing personality, at this point, it’s safe to assume he’s an extrovert, so making friends comes naturally to him.  But when you’re moving a lot, maybe sometimes in the middle of a school term, .  Cater needs engagement and social interaction, but at this point in his life, he’s tired of trying to keep up with old and new friends on deep levels, hence his interest and obsession with social media.

One thing to note about Cater: he likes cutting corners.  a lot.

In his R card “Portrait of Rosalia”, it’s understood that Cater being nice to Rosalia by throwing her a party with some lively students around is a way for him to get on her good side, because Rosalia overhears the teachers’ discussions of tests and future lessons so that he wouldn’t have to study for an upcoming history test: while Cater’s idea of a party to lift Rosalia’s spirits is in good nature, he wants something out of it that benefits him.  But while disappointed the plan didn’t work, he’s quick to brush it off, and Rosalia’s anger, by mentioning that she’s cuter when uptight anyway.

In his PE card “This betrayer!” Cater only have five laps left to do in PE.  But he hates how sweaty he is and how tedious the overall task is.  So he uses his UM to try and avoid doing all five laps himself.  Riddle catches him red-handed, and Cater tries - albeit I’m sure he knows it’s a lost cause - to flatter Riddle at the last minute.  Trey’s also involved, and despite leaving Cater in the dust, Trey also returns with Riddle, because Trey knows that Cater’s the type that tries to cut corners whenever possible, something against the rules in Heartslabyul.  Honestly, as far as Trey goes, Trey’s someone used to the way Riddle holds himself back.  Cater’s exterior personality wouldn’t be hard for Trey to recognise as Cater pushing himself or exaggerating points of his personality just to keep up an image. especially after being in the same dorm for three years.

In short, while he isn’t malicious about majority of the time, Cater will use others to get out situations and tasks he wants no part of.  This is a huge thing reflected in his UM, as it allows Cater to be in more than one place, so that he personally doesn’t have to be involved.  Growing up with two pushy older sisters, it makes he develops a UM that complements a need for escape when pure wit won’t work.  And despite being someone with a superficial interest in trends, that experience accumulates in him understanding the basics about social media and how it affects others, himself included, since it became the only way he could stay in contact with acquaintances and ‘friends’ from previous years. 

 Cater has a good understanding of how people, in general, work, especially those in his agegroup, which makes him rather crafty when he wants to string others along and get out of a situation.  This doesn’t make Cater a mean or conniving person, and in fact, he’s generally amicable and social.  Cater lives by a pretty ‘live in the moment’ credo.  He enjoys having fun and not getting overly serious about issues when he can help it.  There are instances where he doesn’t care about the situation he’s in, or thinks it’s lame/boring, but he tries to make the most of it as something to post about on MagiCam later to engage in low-effort social interaction for a mental break. 

Cater pretty much states this in his Halloween SSR:

“If I left there, they remained there. That’s why I’d rather have a casual and happy time with everyone instead of going steady. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. And that’s why MagiCam is the best. I suddenly got messages from acquaintances from the school I went to 3 years ago. Aren’t my casual and light relationships multiplying? It’s lovely! “

Social media helps him keep in contact with people on a low-effort level, so the risk of moving doesn’t damage his relationships online like it would physical friendships.  As for family, Cater’s feelings towards his family are difficult, tricky ones he has problems with.  He certainly doesn’t hate them, but their lifestyle, the moving and pushy personalities, don’t mesh well with Cater’s personality overall.  When Lilia tries to relate to Cater’s experiences of fleeting relationships, Cater can’t help but dismiss Lilia’s empathy as surface-level, since, to CATER’S knowledge (it’s not like he knows Lilia’s old as shit), Lilia’s always lived in the VoT with his own family and friends, which hits a sore spot with Cater:

““Cater: ….Family…huh.

Flashback Lilia: I feel like I understand you. But it is just as Cater says, it might be the truth that you should not attach yourself too much to one person in particular.

Flashback ends Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up in the same place and never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over… He wouldn’t understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)

/Notification

Cater: Hello, Trey. What’s up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And is Deuce from my committee lacking in hands, so Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to use this to ask me for a favor later!

Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I’ll be back soon, Trey, please calm him! It was such a pain getting involved in the biggest crisis of this Halloween week! No, for real! I’m not lying. That’s why you don’t have to say such cold things to me, kay? URGH, TREY, YOU’RE SO CRUEL!!

Cater: Now that Diasomnia’s turmoil has settled, it’s time to change the mood. No matter how you slice it, we’ll still separate if we become 4th years… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the memories I’m making “now”! I’ll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I’ll show them my serious side!”

Cater calls his own feelings ‘worthless and meaningless’, which likely ties into how he got dragged into his mother and sisters’ own interests over his own, and sometimes even criticised if he didn’t go with their flow.  He also expects the friendships he’s made in NRC (as we see with him talking to Trey about the rest of the Heartslabyul cast), to inevitably disappear after he and Trey are fourth years with their own internships and lives to live.  Because to Cater, the future of his life and relationships appear disruptive and inconsistent, so instead of fretting about them, he wants to live in the moment and enjoy what he’s doing at all times, hence why he cuts corners to make things easier on himself.  This is why he can come across as superficial and easy to get along with, because he doesn’t want to fret over the details.

unrelated but we’re team ‘former dorm leader cater’ here because him doing it because it sounds cool and fun fits perfectly with his personality

#cater diamond #twisted wonderland #Anonymous

[caranfindel]

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester