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random-yandere-fandom · 3 years

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How about yandere TC meliodas but a soulmate au where him and the s/o( Fairy and goddess hybrid who fights for stigma) both share a connection to each other, from sharing emotion, to having vision of where they may meet for the first time. This seem like a nice concept, I imagine meliodas is use to constantly feeling pain from training all the way to fighting the war only to have a s/o who is yet to meet him but is willing to send over positive emotion and feeling to make him feel better. Im sucker for this kinds of things.

Oh hell yes, I love soulmate aus! Which is why it got a bit longer than what I normally write (and took so long lol)

Yandere TC Meliodas with soulmate darling

For as long as you can remember there had been a second layer to your emotions that you couldn`t quite grasp, let alone influence. It was just barely there, almost unnoticeable. Annoyance, nonchalance and a deep-rooted but hidden pain. After learning that those belonged to your soulmate, to the being your were destined to meet and love, you were baffled. Three emotions. A few feelings. Was that all they were capable of, or was that all they could allow themselves to? You mused that they felt your surprise and pity and hoped they wouldn`t connect the dots, they didn`t seem like the kind of person to appreciate such sentiments. Nonetheless you wanted to help. If they weren`t able to and didn`t have the opportunity to experience joy, wonder, excitement and a healthy amount of sadness and grief that one felt at ending a wonderful book with no continuation than you would have to do it for them. If they were hurt you could send them comfort and if they were bored you`d jump down a cliff if you must only to open your wings at the last second to send them a dose of mixed excitement and fear and laughter.

Meliodas had known of the concept of soulmates for as long as he could remember. Since then he had always been told that he wouldn`t need them, that demons barely needed their destined partner and only to allow any connection beyond the unavoidable should they be of the same race. He knew that something was wrong with that but in the end he didn`t care enough to do anything about that. So they felt what he did and at some point he`d know where you two would meet. Great. As long as they don`t get in his way and he can do what he must it`d be fine.

He always knew that his range of sentiments were by far not the widest or the happiest but he would do. Meliodas had to. He had to be strong and cold and unfeeling. That did not seem to be the case for his soulmate, however. There were a mix of emotions constantly changing, most of them he hadn`t even experienced himself. They are a bother, he told himself and ignored it. He also ignored the twinge in his chest whenever they felt sad, ashamed or dispirited. Told himself that he was lucky that they weren`t sending feelings consciously, especially when he had to concentrate.

That changed. There was no warning, no prompting, nothing. Meliodas was about to go to sleep when they did it for the first time. They must have felt his exhaustion and either they thought he didn`t deserve to rest or wanted to spite him because the next thing he knew he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins and excitement erupting. Cursing he sat up, trying to calm his racing hearts and suppress that stuff. The emotions promptly calmed down and went into their normal, ignorable state though he could make out some guilt. For good measure he made his annoyance clear before flopping back down and closing his eyes. That didn`t stop a small and rather short lived smile from surfacing.

Was it your best idea? No. Did you think about what you were doing? No. You had felt your soulmate`s fatigue and seeing as it was the afternoon and they didn`t normally feel like that at this certain time you had assumed that they needed a bit of energy. Luckily, you had been sitting on a rather high branch and before you could think it through you had thrown yourself of from it. Upon their rejection though you had quickly stopped your little stunt and the idea that they had wanted to sleep crossed your mind. Ups. This had been the first time you had enforced an emotion and it had gone wrong. Hoping that their first impression of you could still be fixed you laid low for a bit.

The next opportunity presented itself when you had discovered a beautiful small pond in the forest. It was surrounded by rich plant live and some ducks were swimming on it, the sunshine reflected and sparkled on the water’s surface. Deciding that now would be a good opportunity you checked on their emotions. There was no apparent change from normal so it should be fine. Carefully and a lot slower this time you let your admiration seep through to them and being encouraged by the response, which was nothing, you strengthened it, letting yourself enjoy the coolness of the water as you dipped your feet in. Sitting there you shared this feeling, the contrast of the warm light and the refreshing cold, the calmness of the forest, far away from the others and the silence only being broke by the wind and birds in the sky. With all the work you had been doing and the tense atmosphere of your partner the relaxation was welcomed with open arms.

After this first successful interaction you continued, first about once a week and then once a day and soon simply whenever you felt like it. You were a bit disappointed that your soulmate never openly reacted but you had noticed that their feelings had calmed down and that was enough to keep you going. Having long ago realised that they were fighting in the same war, the suspicion and caution mixed with the occasional numbness, you assumed that they numbed their feelings in hopes of suppressing regret, you sent as much comfort as you could. It was gut wrenching whenever you noticed the impassivity but you did your best to help.

Meliodas grew used to it, over time. He even grew to like it, not that he`d ever admit it. Sensing your enforced emotions brought him joy and comfort, knowing that there was someone out there who cared. He sometimes felt guilty about not replying but what did he have to share? So he let the one sided communication continue.

You always made sure to only strengthen positive emotions or small harmless sadness, just to let them know what you were feeling. This time however you feared that you had made a mistake. You were patrolling and you were careless. It was close to enemy territory but there hadn`t been an incident here and there was this beautiful flower in full bloom and you simply had to send your amazement. Doing just that you hovered over the flower, it`s sweet smell calming your mind. The next thing you knew was a sharp pain in your side as you moved away, away from whatever had slashed you.

It was a small demon and you were quickly able to take care of it before healing your wound. Before you could investigate if there were any others you felt their worry. It was overwhelming. For the first time they openly enforced their feelings and it was intense enough that you couldn`t breathe for a moment. You noticed some anger interlaced, too, directed at what had harmed you, you noted. Quickly sending them your calmed frame of mind you searched for any other attackers and upon finding none you returned to report to one of the other goddesses.

Meliodas had been walking down a lonely hallway when you noticed the flower. Humming in acknowledgement he opened the door to his room and froze. Instead of admiration you seemed to be in pain. What had happened? Were you okay? His mind raced as he allowed himself to worry and let that worry reach you. The seconds were he felt your pain, surprise, resignation and caution were agony. After he was assured you were fine he sighed in relief.

After the second time the demon decided that he should contact you more. After his initial worry had subsided he had become anxious. Not only could you be harmed at any time, he had no way of helping you, not without knowing who or where you were. He realised he didn`t know much of you. Was there someone who liked you beside him, someone you liked? He hoped not. You were his. You two were fated to be, no matter how stupid that sounded. However he had no real way of checking, so interacting with you like this had to be enough for now. He also grew more attentive of your passive emotions, not letting a single feeling pass his attention.

It is a well known fact that before you meet your destined other, you envision the place you will first meet. You had been waiting for that day for ages, knowing that soon after you`d finally meet them, your soulmate. They had been so much more communicative and their joy caused by interactions grew day by day. So when you opened your eyes in a supposedly dream and felt closer to them than ever before you knew that your encounter was drawing near.

The first thing you noticed were your surroundings which resembled a patch of woods just on the border to demon territory. It was cold and clouds hung deep over the sky, it was eerily silent. Not the most romantic, you decided, but whatever. Taking a closer look you noticed a figure approaching from the woods, across from you and the border. It was more of a shadow than anything, you could make out the rather small height but any other details didn`t quite seem to be comprehensive or noticeable. So this was them. You smiled, though you could guess that they wouldn`t see that with how they most likely perceived you in a similar way that you could view them. No words were spoken as you stood only meters apart, time seemingly frozen as all you could do was hope that you could stay like this for longer. Neither they nor you moved, fearing that otherwise the bubble would burst and the glass would shatter and you would wake up, more lonely than ever now that you were apart again. You couldn`t speak, somehow knowing that sounds would not travel far here, but you didn`t need to do that, as all you needed was your connection and bond as soulmates. Warmth, affection and joy swirled between you both and almost felt tangible, as if all you needed to do was reach out to drown in these emotions.

When Meliodas found himself in a dream more realistic than any other he wondered what had happened. He wandered a bit before recognising the forest to be the one crossing the border that Stigma established and vehemently defended. Feeling a presence he followed the strange pull, coming across the figure hidden in shadows with wings that couldn`t have been a fairy`s or a goddess`s. Something else or something in between? He didn`t care. All that mattered was the sense of recognition. It was you. His partner. His destined other. His soulmate. His.

Only after waking up did he realise where exactly you both would meet. The verge on which enemies would meet to battle. Where blood was spilled in the constantly ongoing war. The perimeter seemed in tact though, so you at least wouldn`t meet directly on a battlefield. One thing he did know now, however. You stood on opposing sides, Demons against Stigma, darkness against light, him versus you. How cruel to put you so far away from him, Meliodas mused. But if he had to he knew who to betray and who to stay loyal to.

You spend the next days searching for the exact place you two would meet, ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers about, oh, look, the hybrid is slacking of, no wonder. You wondered how they`d react to your soulmate who was undeniably on the opposite force of the conflict. You supposed one of you would have to switch sides and if you couldn`t convince them than you would have to do so. Though with how they ended up emotionally before you interacted you hoped they would agree with you. Even if the others were against it, the higher ups respected your hard work and if that didn`t work you`d ask Elizabeth, who always seemed hesitant about the war and disliked judging others no matter who they were, for help.

Either way, you thought, being prepared wouldn`t hurt. After finally finding the place you hid a small bag full of important belongings and necessities in the trunk of the hollow tree along with a small gift you hoped your soulmate would appreciate. Following the thickening of your bond you had started to feel other and smaller sensations of them and while you were quite distressed with how often they seemed to fight, you couldn`t deny the feeling of joy when you drank a wine and instantly knew that they liked it, having had a faint taste of it. Hoping that this time you could enjoy it together you made sure the bottle was secure before heading of again.

Every time the weather was like the one in your vision, your and their hope grew and while you reached the place in no time, having memorised the way, they still hadn’t found it. Meliodas wished to fly over the forest but he had seen himself walking and knew that was the only way to get to you. So he wandered around, over and over and when he finally recognised a turn he followed the path eagerly. It took a bit to notice your presence, it being hidden seeing as anything else would be suicide so close to a hostile region. He rushed through the trees, his and yours excitement mixing and growing as you waited, peering through the woods in hopes of catching a glimpse, the first glimpse of the person you had grown to love.

The wind, his hearts and time itself stopped as he came to a halt in front of you. Your eyes were the first things he noticed, shining with a light that warmed him, overflowing with affection. You stared just as much, his black eyes turning into a beautiful shade of green as he lowered himself to the ground, his black wings disappearing from sight. You did the same, letting your feet touch the earth below you before moving one in front of the other. The grin on your face widened as he did the same and before you knew it he wrapped his arms around you.

“Hello“, you whispered. All former thoughts and ideas on your first words spoken to him seeming too far away to speak now, all you could do was great him. He was so warm, his arms protectively shielding you away from a world that was to cruel to a wonderful being like you, he decided, as he responded in the same manner. His hearts were finally beating again and were much faster now.

“My name is Meliodas“, he added, chin comfortably resting on your shoulders, eyes closed and melting into your embrace. It felt so right to finally have you. You fitted perfectly into his grasp, his eyes fluttering open and a smile tugging on his lips as he heard your name. You were finally here, with him. Meliodas knew in this moment he could never let you go. He would follow you wherever you wanted to and destroy anyone that dared and try harm you, no matter the consequences, as long as he could be with you, the one who cared and comforted him, the one that was made for him and the one he was made for, his soulmate.

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thebestpersonherelovesbucky · 3 years

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Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Ep. 4 Takeaway

Uh. No. No, I was not in any way, shape, or form prepared for that heart-wrenching opening. That raw emotion. The gut-punching fear. The devastation. The soul massive relief from under all that fear and pain. No, I was not ready.

“She’s just a kid.” This is why Sam should be Captain America. Look, no one can replace Steve Rogers. There will never be another Steve Rogers. But that’s not the point. Sam isn’t meant to replace anyone. He’s meant to be his own Captain America. A man who has the heart and soul of a person who doesn’t go looking for a fight. A man who will fight when it needs to be done. A man who reaches out with compassion first and fists second. Sam is the Captain America this world needs in these modern times and tbh it doesn’t deserve him.

“Those are our friends you’re talking about.” “The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Thank you for your contribution, Bucky. 😂 No, but, I really liked the our friends. Not just my friends, but our friends and Bucky concurring with that by pointing out who Sam means.

Sam sharing the story about his TT. His family means so much to him as does community and I think that’s why he can relate to Karli and what she wants to do but also cannot condone how she’s going about it.

Yes, if anyone wondered, Baron Zemo would sell out his family to the White Witch for some Turkish Delight.

I do like Zemo stepping back into the more villainous role. While I enjoyed the humor from last episode, it never really sat right with me that they gave Zemo a “tragic” backstory. He was Hydra in the comics and it feels weird to me to change it in such a way. He was a supremacist so his new anti-supremacist ideals is...off-putting to me.

“It wasn’t just one community coming together. It was the entire world.” Hence why Sam can understand Karli’s goals.

Sam assuming the leadership role so much in the episode. So much foreshadowing to what’s (hopefully) to come.

When Bucky loses it with Zemo and Sam is like “Don’t engage. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Not only is this more leadership from Sam it’s also showing how much he pays attention. He knows all their social cues. He knew Zemo was gonna do that probably before Zemo even did. In other words, Sam Wilson is remarkable.

Sam calling Sharon for help. I wasn’t expecting her again so soon. Yay!!

As soon as John Walker steps on screen I want to punch something.

“He’s dealt with worth. And he’s not my partner.” Look at Bucky backing Sam up while trying to play it cool. We all know you love him, Buck.

Sam talking to Karli. Coming to her from a place of understanding and genuinely trying to earn her trust because he does understand her pain. He’s filled with so much compassion and so much empathy and he knows how to employ both of them to better a situation and the world at large instead of coming in guns blazing. He gets it. And he wants Karli to know that he gets it. His approach to getting her to see that she’s going about it in the wrong way. But while she’s okay with acceptable loss, she in fact expects it, Sam is not. “No, it’s not a better place if you’re killing people. It’s just different.” Again, this is what makes him a good Captain America.

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky’s faith and trust in Sam when Walker is literally itching for a fight. That...cold, obsessed look in Walker’s eyes was chilling. (I’ve given kudos to Mackie and Seb for their acting but I should also acknowledge Wyatt Russel’s chilling performance))

Thank you, John Walker, for coming in and making things better oh wait, no. Just come in a fuck things up. Super of you.

Sam’s immediate “no” when Zemo asked if he’d take the serum if he was offered it and asking about Bucky being included in the “super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.” “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Sam is just. I’m running out of words.

I’m now walking a thin line of patience with Bucky criticizing Sam over not taking the Shield. Like, yes, he’s right in that Steve’s wishes were not honored, but Sam is living the consequences wanting to do the right thing by giving the Shield to a museum. He did not and would not have ever handed it over to anyone to use, especially not a man like John Walker. Sam didn’t give it to him. The government did. The same way they’d’ve given the serum to a man like Gilmore Hodge. The same way they forced it upon Isiah Bradley and then experimented on him and locked him away. The same way they “agreed” that Sam was doing the right thing by turning the Shield over and then handing it to John Walker. This is not Sam’s fault.

I could take hours of Ayo and the Dora Milaje kicking John Walker’s ass.

Ayo and the Dora Milaje.

Did I mention Ayo and the Dora Milaje?

I really want to know what Ayo said to Bucky there**. After everything the Wakandans did for him, I can understand why she did what she did. She helped give his freedom and his mind back to him. I know Bucky only intercepted in that particular fight because Sam asked him to and he didn’t (not totally) want them to hurt Walker but. They gave him this place of freedom and his actions (breaking Zemo out, getting involved in their fight) did disrespect them.

The Dora stepping on and catching the Shield. SWOON.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” Oh, boo freaking hoo. You don’t need the serum to be a superhero, dude. And the fact that you’re basing so much of this on that plus your obesssion to gt it just proves you’re not worthy of it.

“Power just makes a person more of themselves, right?” Vs. “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion."

Seriously, the expressions John Walker makes sends chills down my spine.

Karli calling Sarah. I actually thought she’d show up in person. Sarah’s comments about “Captain America” and her assurances that Sam is not working for Walker.

Sam’s immediate protectiveness when Sarah calls him and Bucky’s worry on his behalf. Sam’s anger with Karli when they meet again and the fact that he didn’t argue with Bucky for him wanting to come rather than Sam going in alone.

Sam and Bucky working together (anyone notice a lot less bickering??) is so amazing. I love them as a team.

Sam’s face when he realizes that Walker took the serum.

Quite honestly, if Bucky Barnes wanted to stab me with knives all night long, I’d let him.

Not happy with them killing Lemar for white man pain. I’m sure there were other ways they could have had Walker rage out.

That amazing parallel between Steve slamming the Shield down in Civil War to defend himself and Bucky and Walker killing a person who was just with Karli.

Speaking of parallels, there was SO many in this episode. The serum vials being shattered. The bursting through the doors Shield first. The jumping out of the window with the Shield. Just wow.

“The Whole World is Watching”. A quote from Black Panther when T’Challa did not kill Klaue, an actual terrorist. The title of this episode when John Walker kills a man who didn’t even incite his rage.

And, of course, that final image. I’m still shaking over it. If there’s a better image for what America represents to the rest of the world, idk what is. I just want to cry after seeing what this man is doing with it. This is why he’s U.S. Agent who represents the “power” and “strength” and “might” of the United States. Not Captain America who represents the ideals and hopes of what any country can be.

The acting in this is utterly incredible. The story has me reeling. My mind has been blown by each and every episode and I can’t believe there are only two left.

**Edit: Got it now! Thanks to those who messaged/replied!!

#Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #John Walker #Falcon and the winter soldier #Lemar Hoskins #Baron Zemo #marvel #Sharon Carter #mcu shows #fws spoilers #mcu #long post #my stuff #thoughts

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spacedikut · 4 years

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(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

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tippedbykreider · 3 years

Text

i can’t pretend | m. zibanejad

Word Count: 1,750 words Warnings: Vague hint of jealousy, mentions of alcohol Summary: There comes a time where feelings must be confronted and you can’t pretend like you’re anything other than how you feel in your heart. Mika Zibanejad x Reader Author’s Note: Fic title is from Don’t Let Go by En Vogue but I was very much inspired by the Lusaint cover <3

Life is full of disappointments, despite all of our best intentions and no matter what we do to try and shield ourselves from them, sooner or later they will come knocking. You’d experienced disappointment before, of course you had, but none of them compared to the violent wrenching you felt in your stomach at the sight before you right now.

The loud music all around you faded into nothing and all you could focus on was the loud whoosh of your heart thundering in your ears, like a train passing at speed. Your eyes had suddenly found the vodka and coke you were holding very interesting and whatever conversation you’d been having with Chris and Pavel was quickly forgotten and while Pavel was still trying to work out exactly why your words had died on your tongue, Chris was surveying you with a worried expression and his hand was heavy on your knee.

Chris’s eyes had seen the same thing you had and he was perceptive enough to notice the way your face had fallen when Mika had walked into the bar with someone else, saw the way your shoulders sagged with the exhale of your breath and saw the sparkle that’d been in your eyes dull and diminish into nothing. He leaned in as he flexed his fingers on your leg reassuringly, voice low but still audible above the thumping bass.

“I had no idea he was bringing anybody, I swear.”

You shrugged nonchalantly at that, despite the ache in your chest and despite the tears that had suddenly begun to burn behind your lashes. “Mika can come out with whoever he wants.”

“Not when he was the one who invited you,” Chris countered, tone a little firmer this time but you knew him well enough by now to know that his annoyance wasn’t directed towards you. “What the hell is he playing at? Making such a big deal about you coming out with us tonight and then turning up with her.”

“It’s not a big deal, Chris. Can we just… can we just drop it? Please?”

Chris narrowed his eyes at you slightly, knowing you well enough to know that even you didn’t really believe the words that came out of your mouth but he was cognizant enough to know not to push and so he lifted his hands up in front of him, a wordless acceptance of what you were asking, before reluctantly going back to his Guinness.

You, on the other hand and despite yourself, couldn’t tear your eyes away from how the girl Mika had brought was draping herself all over him and how Mika seemed to like it. You weren’t entirely sure just how long you’d been staring and you were certain that the others would have started to notice how your eyes hadn’t moved at all since Mika had walked through that door; but even though it felt like someone was twisting a knife further into your gut with every second that passed, you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere else.

It shouldn’t have surprised you really, that Mika wasn’t interested, that he didn’t see you in that way because when you looked at the woman with her arms draped around his neck and with her legs that seemed to go on for days, you realised that you were nothing alike and if that was his type then it was no wonder that he didn’t see you as anything more than his friend. You’d known Mika for the best part of four years now and while you were sure that there was more to the way he’d touch you and there was more to the softness in his eyes whenever he looked at you, you realised then that those touches and looks weren’t anything special, even if they felt that way to you.

It was the sight of his lips ghosting the shell of her ear that had you setting your glass down onto the table forcefully and reaching for your coat. He hadn’t even made it to the table yet but you knew that there was no way you were making it through the night without losing it and there was no sense in making things awkward for everybody else too. Better to leave now and lick your wounds in the privacy and solace of your apartment than be the subject of the quiet sympathetic looks you were sure would be sent your way.

“Wait, are you going?” Chris asked, the concern evident in his voice. “You just got here.”

“Headache,” you replied, your voice rough in your attempt to keep a lid on the emotions bubbling up from your chest to your throat.

“I’ll walk you home-”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” you snapped, immediately regretting the hostility with which you replied upon seeing a momentary hurt flash across Chris’s face. “I mean, I’m okay, thanks. I-I can get home myself. Thanks for the offer though.”

You knew that Chris didn’t like that idea and you knew that he was just doing what a good friend should, but if you let him walk you home that would only give him an opportunity to talk about you and Mika and your feelings and you certainly didn’t want that, especially not now. Chris seemed to get the message because he simply nodded, albeit reluctantly. You picked up your purse and slipped out of the bar into the cool New York night without another word spoken to anyone.

Being as oblivious and wrapped up as he was, Mika hadn’t noticed you leave and so the confusion in his expression was evident when he approached the table and his eyes didn’t immediately find yours like they usually would. He went to speak but Chris cut him off curtly, eyes burning and jaw set.

“She went home.”

“Why?”

Chris gave Mika a pointed look and glanced quickly at the woman hanging from his arm before his stony stare found Mika’s eyes once more. “Headache,” he replied with a sharpness that Mika didn’t miss but took a couple of beats to catch up to everything that Chris wasn’t exactly saying.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied from behind his glass. “Maybe you should go check up on her? Make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Mika said quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Within five minutes Mika had given his apologies to Sarah, or Jess, or whatever her name was and was sprinting through the streets of Manhattan towards your apartment. It’s funny how things only become clear when they suddenly start to slip through your fingers and Mika knew that this was one of those moments. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, for not seeing that you were right there in front of him, waiting on him to catch up and finally acknowledge just what sat between the two of you. It was the way his skin sparked whenever he touched you, it was the way his heart fluttered whenever you smiled or laughed, it was the way you understood just how crazy his life was and it was the way you understood the pressures he felt and the weight and expectation he carried on his shoulders. It was all of those things and more and Mika knew that if he really allowed himself to think about it, those were things that had been there since day one. He could only hope that he hadn’t thrown it all away in his complete ignorance.

He’d climbed the stairs to your apartment a hundred times before but the three flights had never felt as towering as they did right now. Perhaps it was the fact that he’d run the ten or so blocks to your place or perhaps it was the overwhelming fear that he’d thrown away the best thing he could’ve had, but either way Mika was sure that his heart was about to burst right out of his chest as he knocked urgently at your door.

His stomach dropped through the floor at the sight of your tear streaked face as you opened the door to him and he was ready to list every single reason why he was an idiot and tell you just how sorry he was but he was cut off and knocked back by the rawness in your voice.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Mika rushed out, hoping beyond hope that you’d hear him out and not slam the door in his face.

“There’s nothing to say, Mika,” you replied in the best strong voice you could muster, not wanting to fall apart in front of him.

“Please-”

“I’m sure your girlfriend is missing you.” Your expression is stony as you look at him and your arms are folded tightly across your chest and nothing at all like the frantic look in Mika’s eye and the way he’s tearing his hands through his hair.

“She’s not my-”

“You know what, Mika?” you interrupt, deciding that you’re not in the mood to listen to whatever excuse was going to come out of his mouth. “You don’t owe me anything. You can go out with whoever the hell you want, but don’t bring me into it. Maybe it was my own fault for thinking that there might have been something more between us and that you wanted to be more than friends and I’m sorry about that but I can’t pretend, Mika. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel what I feel, okay? I’m miserable when you’re not around. I think about you more than I should. Fuck, I thought we were on the same page, I thought that maybe there was something different in the way that you looked at me and the way that you talked to me but I guess I was wr-”

The words coming out of your mouth died in the air as Mika’s hands cupped your face and his lips crashed into your own.

“Stop talking,” he breathed between kisses as his body pressed against yours and guided you back into your apartment, his foot kicking the door shut behind him as you went. “Just stop talking for one second.”

You knew that you needed to pull away, knew that you needed to stop this and for you both to use your words to work through this, but your heart betrayed your brain and your hands found themselves winding their way into his hair while you kissed him back with everything you had.

#my writing #mika zibanejad #mika zibanejad blurb #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey writing #hockey blurb #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction

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silverbastardgoldenfool · 3 years

Text

Realm of the Quarantine Reread End-of-Book Questionnaire: Assassin’s Quest

Any differences between your first/previous reading experience and this one?

Keep in mind I’m writing this months after finishing the book lol (it’s mental illness innit). I have LOTS of notes to go off but yeah, things aren’t as fresh in my mind overall. With that said the biggest difference I can think of between my first and second experience with AQ is my feelings towards Kettricken. I think the first time around reading you know that Fitz is an unreliable narrator but you are still limited by his viewpoint so you can get a bit trapped seeing things the way he does. For this reason, I think I pretty much just forgave Kettricken when he did on my first read, whereas on this read I was like……. Waiting for her to actually apologise and show some sympathy towards Fitz and it just…. Never happened.

Like, don’t get me wrong, I still love Kettricken as a character and I fully recognise that she has been traumatised. I don’t expect her to be nice or act rationally, and in the case of being willing to take Nettle for the crown… It’s cold but she’s doing what she feels she has to. My issue is - do what you have to, but don’t expect Fitz to understand or forgive you (same with Starling). But I think what bothered me the most was how Kettricken would constantly confide in Fitz and break down to him and he was always there to let her do so, yet she NEVER gives Fitz the chance to do the same. The one time he does “open up” in a sense is when she forces him to air out his traumas in front of everyone, and she didn’t show him any sympathy for what he’d been through then or later. She has been through hell, absolutely, but while her plight may not have been any better than Fitz’s it certainly wasn’t any worse. She pretty much had two modes in this book: completely cold or a crying wreck - but she was only ever crying for herself. She lets Fitz console her but she never consoles him. Again, this is a result of her own trauma and I don’t expect her to act any differently, but it just reaffirmed for me that while she and Fitz care for each other deeply it is not an equal relationship. Fitz feels an obligation to serve her and she - knowingly or not - takes advantage of that. Like, after realising that this is their dynamic it is so obvious that the same is true in Royal Assassin as well, and it will be interesting to see how it changes (or doesn’t) in Tawny Man as I don’t remember it well enough to say.

Must reiterate: Kettricken is still a great character and I still have a lot of respect for her, unfortunately she just falls into the overfull camp of people who love Fitz but have an unhealthy power dynamic with him.

The other big difference I noticed was that the Verity stuff just wasn’t as devastating this time. Not because it was any less sad but it just didn’t tear out my heart like it did the first time. That’s not a fault with the writing at all, I think it’s just the fact that, knowing what would happen to Verity and that we wouldn’t see the real Verity again, I kind of already let go of him at the end of Royal Assassin.

Something you can’t believe you forgot

I guess more of a misinterpretation/wishful thinking but like, realising that there is no passage explicitly stating that Fitz and the Fool were actually spooning in the mountains murdered me and spat on my corpse.

Oh also!!! Fitz yeeting himself out the window at Tradeford castle jskaskjf

Favourite character introduction moments/scenes

I love Kettle in general and the way we’re introduced to her as a cranky old lady sets her up perfectly

Favourite character arcs

Man they’re all so fucking sad lol but I guess the Fool? He goes from thinking Fitz is dead and his purpose failed to reuniting with Fitz, their relationship growing into something really real for the first time, and actually completing his mission - at least for now lol. This book is really the first time you get to see the Fool be properly vulnerable. Even when he was getting beaten up by Regal’s guards he always had his veneer of snark and superiority to hide behind - and I doubt when he went through his sicknesses at Buckkeep he would have revealed his weakness to anyone in order to be helped. But in the mountains he lets so much of that facade of the King’s Fool fall away - at least when it’s just him and Fitz. When he and Fitz meet again he lets Fitz see his grief and pain and hopelessness and joy as the Fool looks after Fitz, and then later when it’s the Fool who needs looking after he lets Fitz look after him. When was the last time the Fool had anyone really care for him like that, ya know? Had someone protect him purely out of love? Ouch dude!!!!

Also he gets to kiss Fitz at the end so good for him!!!!!!!!!! Be gay ride dragons!!

Favourite quote/s

“I would kill Regal. It only seemed fair. He had killed me first.”

“I had looked into the heart of my enemy. I still could not comprehend him.”

“The more I drank, the less tolerable my situation seemed. And the more intolerable I became to my friends.”

“I had never thought to be disdained by a tree.”

“The Fool, the Fool, only the Fool. I sought for him. I almost found him. Oh, he was passing strange, and surpassing strange. He darted and eluded me, like a bright gold carp in a weedy pool, like the motes that dance before one’s eyes after being dazzled by the sun. As well to clutch at the moon’s reflection in a still midnight pond as to seek a grip on that bright mind. I knew his beauty and his power in the briefest flashes of insight. In a moment I understood and marvelled at all that he was, and in the next I had forgotten that understanding.”

“When you can either laugh or cry, you might as well laugh.” - the Fool

Favourite relationships

Fitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolfitzandthefoolbahslbghabfhalgngjba

Also fitz and nighteyes (speaking of which, Nighteyes’ arc in this book is also fascinating and surprisingly complex) and Fitz/Nighteyes/Fool mwah magnifico chef’s kiss

Favourite setting

Kelsingra baybeyyy. I remember the first time reading this having no fucking clue what was happening in that chapter but I guess it was the gay agenda all along

Favourite chapter

It’s gotta be the chapter where Fitz and the Fool reunite, right? Catch me just gradually losing my grip on reality with every lingering stare

Most loved character

Foooooooooool

Most hated character

Ya know, for a minute I was actually wondering if I would like Starling this time round but yeah no lol. She was actually okay for a while but as soon as she sold Fitz/Nettle out she became The Worst, just as I remembered her. It’s not even because she betrays Fitz but because, like Kettricken, she expects Fitz to forgive her for it, to the point of running to tattle to the queen because Fitz isn’t giving her enough attention (I’m also not impressed with Kettricken for actually getting involved instead of just telling her to grow up). Not to mention her constantly misgendering/gendering (??) the Fool or just assuming the Fool’s gender and loudly fucking proclaiming it to everybody is just truly fucking disgusting. Like I cannot even explain how furious I was reading her incessantly using she/her pronouns for the Fool despite no confirmation that her theory is right or that the Fool is comfortable with this and despite EVERYONE ELSE using he/him pronouns. God I’m mad now lol. She just acts like a spoilt brat and it makes my blood boil. But that’s probably because I have known many people like this so… Good character writing lol congrats

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimised by Robin Hobb (most heartbreaking and/or visceral moments)

The whole first chapter/s are just so heavy and carry on that gut wrenching feeling from the end of Royal Assassin. Fitz just has no real desire to live and watching him systematically severing the last few ties he has to his human life is just so sad.

Even though I wasn’t as attached to Verity this time, his goodbye to Fitz still made me cry

As did Fitz giving Kettle her skill back

Verity using Fitz’s body to have sex with Kettricken really got to me this time, mostly because I either didn’t notice the first time or had forgotten just how much it affects Fitz. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to acknowledge Dutiful as his son when the event that brought that fact into being was so fucked up and traumatic. It’s really upsetting.

Burrich saying he almost took Fitz to Chivalry and he should have never let the Farseers take Fitz just …… breaks my heart. Just seeing Burrich so raw like that in general is so unusual it really takes you aback.

Details, observations, spoilery notes made with the benefit of the full picture

Strap in lads this part is lonnnngggggggg

Is it bad to immediately want to cry just from seeing “Sandsedge” on the map and thinking of Sandsedge brandy

I never really thought about how poor Hap didn’t get the real Fitz all those years and how their relationship could have been if Fitz hadn’t been partially forged

Pls I have no idea why but to picture someone as emotionally repressed as Fitz actually sitting down and writing about his life makes me want to fucking cryyyyeeeee

Fitz in the prologue talks about needing a purpose as something to distract himself from sinking [into his chronic pain, mental illness and addiction] and boy howdy if that ain’t relatable. As someone with mental illness and chronic pain Fitz is just painfully relatable way too often.

“I have never forgiven myself the triumph I ceded him when I took poison and died.” Fitz :(((( my guy :((((((( forgive yourself for surviving however you could baby!!!!!

This book mentions Bingtown providing slaves to Chalced

It’s so funny to me when people expect Fitz to have social skills as if he didn’t literally live as a fucking wolf for weeks at a time. It’s a miracle he bloody speaks

The state Fitz is in at the beginning of this book was literally Burrich’s greatest fear for him, yet Burrich doesn’t just say I told you so and leave. He stays, is patient and even optimistic.

“He (Burrich) is not bigger than I.” Why does this feel so wrong lol??? I just can’t picture Fitz as bigger than Burrich

“When you were younger and not supposed to go into taverns without me…” So it’s fine if the child goes into taverns and gets drunk as long as you’re also there. Got it, Burrich.

Fitz calling Chade “the grey one” wow get rekd old man river

Seeing Chade and Burrich interact is so bizarre

Fitz is still having seizures at the beginning of this book! I had forgotten that

God okay so idk if I can articulate this point super well but the whole thing of Fitz going through this extensive abuse and then essentially becoming an animal feels like a metaphor for the way your brain’s “higher” needs and functions just shut off sometimes under certain levels of stress. Like in order to cope with the trauma you don’t think about concepts, or long-term goals, or other people. You just take care of your basic needs - food, sleep, shelter, water - long enough that you start to feel safe and secure again, at which point your brain can open up a bit more and allow you to really think again; to want again, to plan again etc. Like obviously literally becoming an animal is a heightened version of reality, but the functionality of it is the same; our wounds and our fear stop us from fully embodying ourselves.

Burrich be like, Fitz was getting way too dependent on drugs before all this so let’s steer clear of those. :) LET’S GET HIM ABSOLUTELY SHITFACED INSTEAD

I love how Fitz has his own unique relationship with Lacey and she’s not just Patience’s servant in his mind

Fitz talking about how even his memories from before his time in the dungeons are soiled by his trauma :( baby boy

Dude it’s so rich Chade lecturing Fitz about not making a life for himself, having friends or just chilling out like???? WHO TRAINED HIM TO BE AN ASSASSIN CHADE?? Like I get your point but what the hell kind of life did you think he was gonna have? Who ever took the time to teach him the importance of making connections with people for their own sake, and when would he have ever had the time anyway? I think Chade himself doesn’t actually know what he expects from Fitz.

Fitz saying he’s bad at making decisions because he’s never actually been allowed to make any is literally a point I’ve made lol. This is what happens when you teach teenagers how to murder in lieu of any basic life skills.

Burrich + Chiv were luv at first sight. No I will not elaborate.

“We kept you a boy, looked after you too much.” Huh??????? Fitz was never fucking sheltered lol. He didn’t have autonomy. There’s a difference.

I’m so fucking glad Fitz hugged Burrich before he left and that they actually left off on okay-ish terms. I didn’t remember that and it vaguely dulls the blow of knowing we don’t see Burrich again til Fool’s Fate (and that he thinks Fitz is dead the entire time between now and then).

“If I shaved my hair back from my brow” bitch disgusting

“Honey was the older of the two women. Perhaps my age.” jskfjnajgbl my guy those aren’t women then those are children!!!!!! U freak

I was wondering for ages why Fitz doesn’t mention the Fool like literally at all bc that’s so unusual right? Even in Assassin’s Apprentice he thinks of him when he goes to Moonseye and just in general the Fool usually enters Fitz’s thoughts pretty frequently. So why now, when Fitz doesn’t even know if the Fool is okay, is he just not thinking about him? And then I realised that that is exactly why. Because the only two people from his old life he doesn’t think about are the two people whose fates he knows nothing of: Kettricken and the Fool. So he can let his mind wander to think what Patience and Lacey might be up to at Buckkeep, or who Molly is with or whatever, because he knows they are all safe. But in such a fragile state I don’t think he can bring himself to really wonder whether Kettricken and the Fool made it to their destination - he probably doesn’t really believe they could have, and that is far too painful a road to go down when you are trying not to think at all.

I know the first act of this book is slow and that bothers some people, but I think it is so necessary, not only for Fitz’s arc but also because it really demonstrates just how severe the situation has gotten with the red ships and forged ones AND it shows just how destructive a king Regal is. Without this perspective it would probably be much harder to buy that the extreme measures taken at the end of the book are really worth the sacrifice.

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit A: when Honey is coming onto him, all he can think about is Molly.

Fitz is so scared of the Forged ones :( his trauma affects everything. He has no faith in himself and less heart for the violence than ever.

Speaking of trauma metaphors: the way Fitz tends to drift off into the wit or Skill after a traumatic experience is… pretty much just dissociation but magique

I forgot that witted folk can apparently communicate with each other mentally, not just with animals

“Her head was the size of a bushel basket.” Ah, yes, a bushel basket, a thing whose size we are all intimately familiar with.

Fitz finally finds others like him and even then he is not fully accepted. Told he is doing the wit wrong. Othered by the Others. It’s the queer experience innit.

Also forgot that apparently the forged are attracted to the wit as well as the Skill?

“I wondered if I had as many wolf mannerisms as they had halk and bear.” Yeah no probably not you only bloody LIVED as a wolf, Fitz.

Okay I know it doesn’t need saying but Patience is just so fucking cool!!!!!

Jesus fucking christ, Fitz skilling out to Molly when he knows Will knows he’s alive and is looking for him is just… so dumb. So so dumb. I know he’s just fixating on her because he’s miserable and she’s like this unsullied thing he had before everything went wrong but holy moly is it frustrating

Not to mention he doesn’t connect the dots between the fact that Burrich went to “help a friend” and every time he reaches out for Molly he sees Burrich sajkdbshkhja dude

Nighteyes leaving just goes to show that Fitz cannot rely solely on Nighteyes for companionship. No matter how innately the same they are they are equally as innately different. Fitz needs Nighteyes but he shouldn’t have JUST Nighteyes (which is why he, Nighteyes and the Fool are the holy trinity). When Nighteyes leaves, Fitz is in way too fragile a state to be left alone, but Nighteyes cannot think of the future or what might happen. All he knows is he’ll be back at some point and that’s all that matters.

“My anger fed my competence” whatever you need to tell yourself sweetie

I think I had blocked out the fact the Regal was keeping animals trapped in filthy cages so they could ravage people in the king’s circle uggggghhhhhhhhh I hate him

Fitz is down on himself saying that without Shrewd’s largesse, Chade’s information and Verity’s protection his idea of himself has been stripped away and that he’s not actually competent etc. but like. This is an extreme situation!! You’re literally alone in the wilderness with nothing and no one!! Who would thrive in this situation? And nobody gets by without help anyway! The people in our lives do define us to an extent. You don’t have to be able to stand 100% on your own at all times with zero resources to be considered capable. It’s human to depend on others. Yes I am chiding myself as much as Fitz here :))))

Burrich’s earring is the repressed gay earring. No I will not elaborate.

Fitz refusing to sell Burrich’s earring is frustrating yet something I would 100% do lol

Direct from my notes: Celery hiding out in caves?? Bad bitch

“I felt I was within the flames looking deeply into the Fool’s eyes” um okay gay

It’s actually surprising that Fitz admits he would not have gone after Molly even if he had known she was pregnant when she left. On one hand so self aware yet this doesn’t stop him from completely idealising their relationship.

And then you have Molly who says he was supposed to come after her “so she could forgive him”, that he was supposed to be the one to light the candles for her childbirth etc. The fact that she in any way thought he was mature enough to be a father just shows how little they really knew each other.

Burrich treating Molly like a horse while delivering Nettle is way funnier than it has a right to be jskakjasd makes me think of Dwight treating Phyllis’ back injury in The Office lol

The first thing Burrich notices about Nettle is that she has Chivalry’s brow are you fucking kidding me. Gay!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit B: He had no interest in Tassin whatsoever until she literally started kissing him. At this point his body reacted, which is normal, but as soon as he got a second to actually think about it he stopped, because for him it would not be satisfying to sleep with someone he didn’t have feelings for.

“It seemed to take years for the dried beans and lentils to soften.” Okay mood

I love how Fitz just assumes Molly will take him back. “I have a woman and child awaiting me.” Says who bitch?

Small ferret? More like big legend

Ya know, we give Fitz so much shit but honestly with so much physical, mental and emotional stress on this journey how can we expect his mental faculties to be at 100%? I wouldn’t be making good decisions either, in fact I would be long dead.

Starling telling Nik that the earring once belonged to Chivalry is truly a smooth brain move

“Do not fear, little brother, I am here to take care of you again.” Words can’t explain how much I love Nighteyes and how often his dialogue makes me smile :’)

It’s so cute how Nighteyes is worried about Molly and Nettle until he knows that Burrich is taking care of them

It’s really interesting when Fitz claims “I’d rather be with Molly even if it meant rocking a crying baby in the middle of the night” because, well, he’s literally made other claims to the contrary, saying he wouldn’t have gone with her even if he’d known she was pregnant. Because at the end of the day as much as Fitz is compelled by others to do work for the greater good, I think deep down a lot of the time it is what he would do anyway. Like I really don’t think he could actually enjoy being with Molly knowing that the world is burning down around them. He would want to get out there and help somehow; not only to secure their own future but to reduce other people’s suffering as well. He’s an empathetic boy even though he’d like to be selfish.

Every time Fitz calls Molly his wife I lose ten years off my life

Again, I understand why he’s thinking like this, but Fitz’s ownership of Molly is just so uncomfortable. The fact that he can’t imagine her not having a place ready and waiting for him in her life when he returns just illustrates that she is not a fully realised person to him. She is just a comforting idea.

Oh yes, it was definitely Starling’s “pillowtalk” that got you captured and not the fact that you fit the exact description of the witted bastard right down to having Chivalry’s earring and a whole ass wolf

Somehow forgot that Jhaampe is basically a city of tents with only a few permanent buildings and people constantly coming and going

Fitz’s first words to the Fool are “I’ve come to you.” I’m gonna fucking die

Literally every single word from the moment Fitz realises it’s the Fool and starts describing him is a full body assault and personal attack I am seeking reparations

God the tenderness, the angst, the relief……… shall i pass away

“I doubted he was much taller, but his body was no longer a child’s.” My dude this is a gay awakening if I ever saw one

Fitz be like *spends 87 pages describing the Fool in painstaking detail* anyway I love being a heterosexual male

I’ve heard ppl cite Fitz’s descriptions of Kettricken as evidence of a crush (hard disagree) but literally nothingggggg even comes close to the way he describes the Fool. Not just this once but over and over again it’s insane.

“Talk fell off between us. The bottle of brandy was empty. We were reduced to silence, staring at one another drunkenly.” skjakfnajghajgnaLNGJ is it gay to silently gaze into thine homie’s eyes

The Fool protecting Fitz from everyone - especially Starling - in Jhaampe is often hilarious and always heartwarming

Realising Fitz was skinny enough for the Fool to lift on his own ahhh no wonder he said the famous “When I recall how beautiful you were” line, Fitz is a total wreck

I love that the Fool actually gives Chade shit for his plan to take Nettle. I love him.

“Too few folk cared for me. I could not hate a single one of them.” Oh, Fitz :(

I always wonder how the Fool really feels about Molly. Is he jealous? Does he compare himself to this woman Fitz idolises and he doesn’t know? Does he know that Fitz is barking up the wrong tree or is he stuck thinking Molly must really be Fitz’s soulmate since he won’t shut up about how much he loves her and can’t wait to get back to her? He just never really lets on how it makes him feel when Fitz has relationships with women. We know Fitz gets jealous of the Fool (for litch rally like no reason lol), so with the Fool being much more honest with himself/in general about his love for Fitz and having much more legitimate reason to be jealous, is he? Or is it just something he’s made his peace with, that these women give Fitz something that he cannot? Is he okay with that cos he has to be or does he have a different, less monogamous view of love and relationships (he does have three parents after all). I dunnoooo dude I just have so many questions. Like obviously - OBVIOUSLY - if Fitz and the Fool didn’t have romantic feelings for each other before, there is no doubting that romantic feelings appeared the moment Fitz appeared in the Fool’s hut. Fitz won’t admit that but mere chapters later the Fool is talking about how he loves Fitz in every way so like. He knows. So how does he feel when Fitz is calling out for Molly in his sleep, or openly speaking of seeking her out when all this is over, and lying to the Fool to protect Molly and his daughter. Really makes u think!!!!

Fitz reuniting with Sooty and going to see her every day in Jhaampe is so cuuuute and made me so happy. Sooty is a good girl :’)

Fitz be like *leans against the table where the Fool is carving and watches his fingers at work like a true repressed gay*

Verity is literally so strong???? He submerged himself in skill and was able to pull himself back from the stream can u imagine? Go off king!

Bro I literally can’t with the Fool mentioning Jofron so casually and Fitz immediately thinking wow oh my god they’re definitely fucking oh my god the Fool has a girlfriend - Fitz sweetie calm down

I love how Fitz and the Fool just naturally walk together :))) and Nighteyes babysitting Kettle is so cute

Molly never once says that she misses Fitz. She says she always expected him to do the right thing, to come after her and not leave her alone with a child. But she doesn’t look back on their time together fondly or have much positive to say about him as a person. And all that is fair, but it’s also just… Not really the behaviour of someone who’s been separated from their soulmate. It’s more just someone who’s been left in a shitty position by someone they cared about but hardly knew.

Fitz asking the Fool what is between him and Starling when they’re literally just being civil is sooooo fucking funny. Not everyone finds the Fool as irresistible as you do, Fitz.

The Fool just casually finding a pretext to call Fitz the light of his life

Fitz telling Kettricken firmly that he will not travel if the Fool is ill is one of the only times he ever puts his foot down with her GEE I WONDER WHY

I’ve said it before I’ll say it again…… there really do be something about the way Fitz can’t meet the Fool’s eyes………. It’s not like they’re weird and colourless anymore like they used to be!!!

The Fool already talking about Clerres in this book!

Fitz and the Fool and Nighteyes playing in the stream is too fucking pure omg, it’s what they deserve

And then Starling has to bloody ruin it bc she’s homophobique

But seriously, Fitz actually lets go for the first time in ages and has a nice evening only for Starling to go tattling to Kettricken, and Kettricken having the gall to confront Fitz about it. And then Fitz solves the problem by saying he doesn’t disdain her when like!! He has every right to!!!! She sold him out, sold his daughter out. She never even apologised but instead has just been totally petty and self-righteous and stirring up trouble amongst the group. She hasn’t earned or even asked for his forgiveness. So fitting that she’s the one constantly judging Fitz for his relationship with Lord Golden in Tawny Man lol, she just cannot let Fitz and the Fool be the queer icons they are!!!

Verrrrrrrrrrry interesting that Fitz only “suddenly missed the human warmth and comfort” of Starling taking his arm or sleeping against him literally IMMEDIATELY after the plumbing and love confrontation with the Fool. I mean he has been doing all of those things with the Fool (sleeping together, walking arm in arm etc.) so it’s not about human touch at all, it’s about convincing himself that a WOMAN’S touch is somehow inherently different.

He does the same thing with Starling as with Kettricken. She technically apologises but it’s not sincere and that’s not why he forgives her. Same as Kettricken, she tells her sob story and he can’t hold onto his anger. It makes sense, but it’s just very toxic. It would be nice if at least one person would really recognise how much they’ve hurt Fitz and really, genuinely want to atone for it, or apologise without expecting forgiveness. The onus should not be on Fitz to forgive Starling but on Starling to grow up and not need Fitz to like her in order to remain civil and do what they have to. Also “I do not find your wit bond offensive” has the same energy as someone telling you out of nowhere like “It’s fine that you’re gay :)” like wow thank u?? lol

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit C: “I wanted her with a desperation that had nothing to do with love, and even, I believe, little to do with lust.”

“By his love he is betrayed, and his love betrayed also.” So fate agrees with me, Fitz and the Fool are in love? :)

Anytime the potential that Fitz might have to choose between Molly and Nighteyes I lose brain cells. That’s ur brother Fitz!!! It’s not even a choice!! How dare u

It’s just sooooo intentionally laid out for us in this book that Fitz’s relationship with Molly really wasn’t good or healthy and that his fixation on it is misguided, and I think that’s why I struggled sooooo hard with the ending of Fool’s Fate, because it kind of implied the exact opposite. I’m hoping on this reread I will pick up on it being laid out as a result of Fitz getting his memories/teen feelings back rather than it just feeling like a lowkey retcon, but I guess we’ll see lol

“I felt I was a bit in love with him, you know. That sort of lift to the heart.” the confirmation that the Fool KNOWS HOW IT FEELS TO BE IN LOVE sends me deep into the swamps goodbyeeeeeeeeeeee

“The one who loves him best will betray him most foully.” So fate agrees, the Fool loves Fitz best :)

“You do love me! … Before, it was words. I always feared it was born out of pity.” Godddddd Foooooooooool!!!!!!!!!!!

Everything about Fitz, the Fool and Nighteyes meeting in the skill for the first time is just truly perfect iconic unparalleled.

Fitz’s love for Verity hurts my heart so much. Just think of the relationship they could have had if they weren’t stupid royals.

Kettle’s whole speech about Fitz and Molly… Just yes to every word.

Look I’m just gonna say it… The way Burrich reacts to Molly’s advances … like I know it’s probably not intentional but it just reads as very much fitting in with my headcanon that he is gay. As soon as she makes it clear she wants to sleep with him he like leaps across the room lol. I do believe he cares for her and loves her in his way, but it does feel mostly like he’ll just do whatever he needs to to care for her and the baby. Sowwy

I wonder why the Fool wasn’t as affected by his giving up of memories to Girl-on-a-Dragon?? Or was he, and he just gets them back before we see him again in Tawny Man?

“Take my hurt that I never knew my father, take my hours of staring up at his portrait when the great hall was empty and I could do so alone.” um this is so fucking sad

It was the Fool who sent Starling to find Fitz after Verity uses his body and again I have to ask, wtf is going on in your mind, Fool!

Fitz is Demisexual, Exhibit D: Even once he actually sleeps with Starling he has no enthusiasm about it, he just kind of goes along with it, likely to prove to himself that he has really let go of his past/Molly.

I always wonder why the Fool leaves now. Is it because he thinks their work is done and doesn’t want to risk messing things up by hanging around his catalyst like at the end of Tawny Man? Does he intend to come back and find Fitz again but get sidetracked by a lead or a new dream? Like it’s just weird because at first he was like “Prophet and Catalyst stick together” and was gonna stay with Fitz - or was that just an excuse because he was obsessed with Girl-on-a-Dragon? Fool u spicy lil enigma

It’s blood and the wit that wakes the stone dragons so does that mean King Wisdom was witted? Or is that obvious lol

Fitz isn’t even bothered by the Fool’s kiss, just shocked. I am looking.

Patience shouting orders at Verity-as-Dragon is beautiful ksjjk

Of courrrrrssse Burrich names his first son Chivalry

In the epilogue, the Fool is the only one Fitz actually says he misses. Exquisite.

I know some people have an issue with Regal’s death but personally I find it delicious

Okay that’s all (I say as if this wasn’t 139841989 pages long). See y’all in 92 years when my sister finally starts reading Liveship!

#realm of the elderlings #realm of the quarantine #assassin's quest #long post #fitz and the fool #Fitzchivalry Farseer #rote #ehhh idk what else to tag lol #if u read all this congrats and i'm sorry

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Two: Plans and Proposals

Series Masterlist

Plot: The Resistance discusses how to move forward in rebuilding.

Warnings: blood, injuries

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Everything’s a mess but have no fear, the fic is here. Enjoy your escape into another world because Heaven knows ours is a flaming pile of garbage right now.

————

“What in the hell?” Poe mumbled as me, Shriv and him arrived at the fight. One of the pilots that Wedge Antilles had recruited slid across the floor. Teza Nasz stood next to us bleeding, but seemed unconcerned with her wounds. The ex-Imperial began to charge forward again but Jess reeled her back, begging her to cease the confrontation. Wedge went to help the young pilot up to his feet, his blood was still smeared across the stone floor.

“Poe Dameron,” Wedge called, “Y/n Solo.”

“Antilles,” Poe said, “What in the hell is going on?”  “Agoyo swung first,” a woman next to Wedge said. Judging by her age and the fact that she hadn’t left his side since we’d arrived, I took a guess she was Norra Wexley.

“I don’t care who started it,” I spoke up, “There’s no sense in fighting each other, we’re on the same side. Why did this even start?”  “You should care!” Agoyo shouted, rising back to his feet. His Phantom Squad uniform was stained now with blood.

“Identify yourself, pilot.” Poe ordered. Agoyo faced us, crossed his arms and took a defiant stance.

Poe impatiently repeated himself, “Name, pilot.”  “Pacer,” the young pilot seethed, “Pacer Agoyo.”  “Pacer,” Poe nodded, “You know who I am?”  “Poe Dameron.”  “No, I’m your commanding officer. And frankly, right now I’m not impressed with what I see. I understand you’ve come a long way to join us…”  Pacer answered that he was from Nuja and his late father was a Phantom Squad pilot. He’d come in his place.

“I appreciate your father’s service, and your willingness to join the Resistance,” Poe said, “But unfortunately, it looks like you’re not a good fit for this mission. You’re free to leave.”

Some of the gathered crowd let out gasps as Poe turned his back on Pacer. Even I was confused as to what he was trying to do. I watched Pacer shift awkwardly as my boyfriend tilted his head, he was waiting for Pacer to speak up.

“Poe...I mean, Commander Dameron. I-I want to stay, sir. Please. It’s just...”

“It’s just what, Agoyo?” Poe asked as he finally turned around.

The young pilot was no longer looking at Poe, his eyes were locked onto Teza Nasz once again. I could feel the anger radiating off of him, no one was this full of rage for no reason.

“Do you know each other?” I asked, taking a step forward to reiterate my presence.

“She murdered my brother!” Agoyo revealed, he raised his fists once again and took a step in Nasz’s direction.

“Agoyo!” Poe snapped, Pacer turned back but still wouldn’t meet Poe’s stare.  “Eyes on me,” he said, the pilot finally looked up, “You will stop menacing Teza Nasz, or I will have you thrown in the brig until you can cool down. Is that understood?”

Pacer looked embarrassed and slightly intimidated by Poe’s threat. Wedge put a hand on his arm and whispered something I couldn’t make out, whatever he’d said was enough for him to let Wedge pull him back. Poe then turned to Teza Nasz, “Well?”  “It’s possible I killed his brother, but I don’t remember. It’s possible,” the warlord said as she scanned the crowd, “That I killed all of your brothers. And cousins. And mothers and fathers and former lovers. It was my job.”

“Then why are you here?” I inquired, crossing my arms.

She looked jolted by the question I’d posed, “Because it was wrong. But I didn’t know it at the time.”  “You were young and ambitious,” Poe guessed, “So you joined the Empire.”

Teza nodded, “Mostly hungry, but yes.”

Never in my life did I think I would ever feel sympathy for an ex-Imperial warlord. Yet here I was, a little bit of my heart going out to the woman. She still intimidated me, but I understood her a little better now.

“You joined the Empire,” Poe finished, before turning his gaze to Wedge, “Just like you.”

“It’s no secret I attended Skystrike Academy,” he said to the crowd, his hands spread out with a shrug, “But I left once I realized what the Empire was doing.”

Poe nodded in reply before turning to Zay, “And your mother.”  “My mother was an Imperial officer,” Zay answered softly, “But she defected. She and my father. They died for the Resistance. Ask Leia. She knows.”

“Suralinda?” I called, hoping I wasn’t stepping on Poe’s moment by calling on one of his squad members.

“I didn’t give a care about either side much,” she said easily, “I was ready to sell Resistance secrets if it would get me what I wanted. Oh wait, I did.”

The shocked faces around her did not match with her laughter, “Relax, I came around.”

“And you?” Poe turned finally to Finn, who I hadn’t noticed was standing to the back of the group with Rey.

“Used to be a stormtrooper,” Finn answered as he came forward, “But now I’m rebel scum,” his fist hit his chest so loud, the thump echoed, “Until the end.”  We shared a small smile, he’d become one of the most devoted pieces of lovable scum I’d ever met in such a short amount of time. I was proud of him.

“My point,” Poe said as he turned back to Pacer, “Is that many of us have dubious beginnings, but it is how we end that counts.”

“My father was Darth Vader,” Mom’s voice rang out through the hanger, “Is there anyone who wants to question my loyalty to the Resistance?”

I’d never heard a more silent room, damn right…

“Now, is there anyone else with a grudge that needs airing?” Poe asked loud enough for everyone to hear, “Something that’s bothering them? Someone in this room that they can’t wait to knife once their back is turned?”

The tension eased up as a couple people laughed. Just as Poe was beginning to gesture for Mom to take the floor, a voice that hadn’t been heard yet rose.

“I got a question!”

The voice belonged to a bald, grey skinned man. Immediately you could tell that he was an older pilot, just as cocky as he’d probably been his whole life. This was going to be fun.

“Go on,” Poe acknowledged.

“What about you two?” the man wagged his finger at Poe and I.

“What about us?” I confusedly asked.

“I heard the stories,” he continued, “About what happened on the Raddus. To Holdo. I fought with Holdo. She was a good leader.”

My stomach lurched, but I tried to still appear calm as every eye came to rest on us. I felt Poe’s anxiety which only heightened my own nerves. I wanted to throw myself at the feet of the crowd and let them all have a free punch. I deserved it. But it wouldn’t do much good. Maz’s emotion provoking questions and Poe’s ‘we fix it’ answer played in my head at a dizzying speed. Everything I did from here on out was about trying to make amends for what I’d done. Just as Poe and I had promised Black Squadron.

“I agree,” Poe finally said.

“Me too” I immediately followed.

“You agree?” the veteran smiled cruelly, “That’s not what I heard, that’s not what any of us heard.”

He motioned to the rest of Phantom Squadron plus Wedge and Norra. Snap must have told them what had happened, he was right to have done so. They deserved to know what they were walking into, gut-wrenching details and all.

“You two are the ones who should be in the brig,” the veteran went on further, “Or better yet, tossed out of an air lock.”

There were quiet agreements coming from the crowd, I had to fight to keep the heartbreak from reaching my face. I’d disappointed so many people. One look at the tears I was holding back and Poe instinctively took over.

“You’re right,” Poe said loudly, garnering everyone’s eyes on him, “You’re absolutely right. We disobeyed a direct order, we got people killed, we undermined our commander, and led a mutiny. And if you don’t think that eats both of us up, that it haunts us every day, every minute, then you don’t know a damn thing.”

I blinked back my tears and watched him keep going, “And yeah, you could lock me up, throw me into space, but you tell me how that helps the Resistance? How that brings down the First Order? Because, trust me, if I thought my death would bring them down, I’d sacrifice myself in a heartbeat,” he snapped his fingers before pointing to me, “And Commander Solo already tried. She was willing to die at the hands of the First Order just so the Resistance could live.”  “Poe,” Finn said to my side, shaking his head in disapproval of the images Poe was painting.

Jess came forward suddenly, “Poe’s my squad leader and I trust him with my life. There’s no one else I want leading Black Squadron. Y/n too, she’s one of the best commanders the Resistance has got.”

“He saved our butts over Grail City just a few days ago,” Karé added.

“And he saved mine on Jakku,” Finn said, “Y/n did too on Takodana.”  “And mine on Crait,” another voice called.

“And mine.”  More and more people spoke up with instances where Poe and I had been competent commanders. It was overwhelming, I let a stray tear fall in gratitude. The belief that the Resistance still had in Poe and I was not deserved, but I had no choice but to accept it.. Poe’s head was ducked, it was hitting him just as hard.

After a moment, the room settled down and Poe looked to me. He was silently asking if I wanted to say anything, I shook my head slightly and let him take the floor once again. He had always been better at public speaking than me, he was altogether a more confidant leader even in his worst moments.

“We’ve all made choices. Choices that caused harm, led to destruction, even at times death. We are all responsible for our deeds. The great and the terrible. But if we define ourselves only by what we’ve done, only by our failures, then this Resistance, this spark? It dies here and now. We’re all here because we have a chance to change things. A chance to change the galaxy. A chance to change ourselves. But we have to make that commitment. That choice. A choice...”

He stopped, searching for the words to cap off his inspiring speech.

“A choice to be better,” Zay finished his sentence as she stepped forward. She was so young but was lightyears ahead of others with her passion for the cause.

“A choice to be better,” Poe echoed.

As I scanned over the crowd, there were smiles and nods of approval. One person even clapped. Wedge said something I couldn’t hear but it had roused laughter from the people around him. After that, everyone started to break off in their own groups and conversations.

“Hey,” I touched Poe’s arm, “I’m proud of you.”  The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, “They’ll want to hear from you too at some point.”  “You’re better at rousing a crowd than I am,” I complimented, “Besides, according to Zay, everyone already knows what they need to about me.” I shot him a wink as he chuckled, “I’m gonna go talk to Mom.”

I broke away, surprisingly my mother wasn’t surrounded by people for once. I had a hunch she was waiting for me.

“Not too bad,” I said as I approached her, “We’re not a fleet but we’re not nothing.”  “It’s hope,” she replied knowingly, “That’s more necessary in a war than a fleet. Although, a fleet would be nice.”  I smiled, attempting to mask the pain I’d been trying to hide all day. It had broken me down in the ship with Poe, but I couldn’t fall apart a second time in front of people.

Mom, as usual, sensed it. “I miss him too. I could use him right now.”  “He’d just want to run headfirst into the fight,” I chuckled sadly, remembering stories of my father charging into battle with little to no plan.

“You’d be surprised,” Mom raised an eyebrow and smiled nostalgically, “He was a better general in the war than you’d think. Now,” she squeezed my hand warmly, “Let’s get to work, Commander.”  I was thankful for the snap back to the present, that’s where I needed to be. We went around gathering the people Mom wanted as her new leadership team, including our gracious host, Yendor.

“Commander,” Mom called out to Poe, he abruptly ended his conversation with Zay to join us, “I would like you all to join Ambassador Yendor and me for tea. There’s much we need to discuss, and little time to do it.”

————

We made our way into what was formerly Yendor’s library, it had now been converted to a war room. There was a large round table in the middle of the room with a holo readout that contained inventory lists of our resources, people and supplies. It was shockingly low, all of it.

“Hey,” Rey greeted me quietly as I stared at the lists, “How’d things go with Maz?”

I puffed out my cheeks and exhaled, “Not great.”  “She can’t help?”

“She won’t help,” I turned away from the holo and began to stroll the room with her, “I don’t pretend to understand how Maz works. She usually speaks so cryptically but what Poe and I got was a flat out rejection.”  “Maybe she’ll still find a way to come through,” she suggested as we planted ourselves in a corner of the room.

Rey hadn’t been there, she hadn’t heard Maz’s callous words. How she’d simply sat back in her lounge chair while we were struggling to keep our heads above water. “You’re much more hopeful than I am.”

A smile flashed across her face, “Someone I know told me something about the people I place my hope in. They won’t always disappoint me.”   “You have to be careful who you take your advice from,” I teased, bumping my hip into hers.

 After sharing a laugh, Rey’s expression sobered quickly. “Y/n, there’s something I didn’t get to tell you about my visit with Luke. It’s something that concerns you.”  “What is it?” I asked, pushing off the wall we were leant against.

“He told me that when you-“  “I’m sorry,” Wedge interjected, tapping me on the shoulder, “Y/n, we’re about to start.”  Damn everything, I wanted to hear what Rey had to say. What Uncle Luke had told her. It could’ve been something to do with his vision, something about my future. But there were more pressing matters at hand and I needed to prioritize.

I sighed frustratedly before pointing to Rey, “We will finish this conversation.” I turned with Wedge to go join the group, trying to put the subject of my uncle’s post-humous words anywhere but the forefront of my mind. I spotted Poe and headed for the empty spot next to him. He was, shockingly, in pleasant conversation with the veteran pilot who had wanted to throw us into spaces moments ago. I only caught the last thing Poe said.

“It’s a deal.”  The large man gave Poe a hearty pat on the back, sending Poe stumbling forward. I caught his arm and steadied him, “Do I want to know what bet you just made?”

“A race,” he answered in a low tone, “That I’ll win. If I weren’t the better pilot, he’d get to shave my head.”  I shot him a disapproving glance but didn’t get time to voice my thoughts as the room went hush. Poe had never been in the habit of betting credits like a normal person. But then again, he never lost if it involved flying.  

“I’m glad you’re all here.” Mom’s voice echoed in the large room, all attention was given to her, “I know many of you came at great personal cost with small hope of success. I can’t promise that we will survive this. That we will all still be alive tomorrow, or the day after. But I can promise you one thing. I will fight beside you until the end.”

“If I may,” Norra Wexley said after a few seconds of silence, “Everyone in this room knows what they signed up for, General. This isn’t our first battle, although it might be our last. We’re done with ‘homes.’ We’ve made our choice. This,” Norra gestured to our team, “This is our home now. The Resistance is our family. And just like you, we’re ready to die for it.”

Mom looked touched enough to cry, but instead ducked her head, “And the rest of you? Is that how you all feel?”

A resounding chorus of agreements came from each person around the table.

“Then we have work to do. Yendor?” 

The aforementioned Twi’lek came forward, he looked almost regal. “Welcome to Ryloth,” he greeted us, “Like Leia, I thank each of you for all that you have sacrificed. We are all here for the same purpose: to stand against the tyranny of the First Order. Those of us from Ryloth know a thing or two about standing against tyranny. I and my children and those who are part of the Ryloth Defense Authority offer you all we have, but as you can see, we are few.”

“You called the Resistance’s allies from Crait, did you not?” General Rieekan addressed Mom, “Others will come.”

She frowned as she remembered the disappointment on Crait. “So far the only allies we have been able to reach are the ones you see in front of you. We suspect that the First Order has been rounding up and imprisoning those sympathetic to the Resistance, and we think that they’ve figured out how to block our frequencies, but we aren’t sure. We can’t rely on reinforcements. Not at this point.”

There was more discussion about the subject, it was made clear that General Rieekan was unaware of just how large a threat the First Order had become. Contrary to what he thought, they were 100% capable of taking prisoners.

“Besides, what do they need?” Wedge asked, “A few local governments to look the other way, a few dark holes to lose people in. It’s not hard.”

“Speaking of local governments,” Charth, one of Yendor’s children, spoke up for the first time, “you should all understand that while Ryloth welcomes you in your time of need, there has been a complication.”

“Complication?” I asked.

“The First Order has come to Ryloth,” Mom answered, “Not because of us. As far as we know, they aren’t aware of our presence here.”

While it was worrisome, I was secretly relieved for personal reasons. I couldn’t sense Ren’s presence on the planet. Charth went on to explain that the First Order wanted to tithe their shipping lanes to raise money to rebuild the ships they’d lost, ironically, fighting us. It felt good to have put the tiniest dent in their fleet.

“I suggest we act quickly,” Mom went on, “Given our time and our limitations, I am most concerned with rebuilding our forces, giving us another week, another month. A foundation. I had hoped for time to find more leadership, but...I want ideas.”

“Ships,” Poe answered quickly, pointing to the holo inventory list that detailed our ships, “Is this up-to-date?”

“Yes,” Rey answered from where I’d left her, “I saw Rose account for the arriving ships before we met here.”  Poe nodded to her before turning back to the table, “I see a handful of starfighters, a few transports, a yacht. It’s not a fleet, and we can’t fight much less expect to win any kind of battle against the First Order with equipment like this. We need ships.”

“I agree. How do you suggest we get these ships?” Mom asked.

“We could steal them,” Norra suggested, “The First Order’s actively building fighters. You just said so,” she finished, gesturing toward Charth.

“The rumor is the Corellian shipyards are running continuously to meet the quotas,” the Twi’lek confirmed.

“Then we go to Corellia,” Poe said with a clap, as if it was an easy task.

“Too high-profile,” Wedge said, “And we don’t have enough people to stage a raid.”

“Send me in with a handful of pilots and I’ll get your ships for you,” Poe continued his urging, these were the moments where he needed to slow down.

Mom shook her head in rejection of the idea, “Wedge is right. We can’t risk the few pilots we have to liberate a handful of ships. We need a more strategic plan.”

She waited a beat, expecting Poe to argue that he could get the job done. I was proud of him for staying resigned, he was actively trying to do better at following orders.

“Bracca,” Shriv spoke up, “It’s just a thought.”

I’d never been to Bracca, but Pacer explained that it was a junker planet. Not exactly what we were in search of.

“It sounds like a waste of valuable time,” I commented, hoping Shriv didn’t take too much offense, “Time we can’t spend stealing junkyard scrap, we need functional ships.”

“Bracca has become the place that the First Order sends any and all claimed New Republic ships to be decommissioned and junked,” Finn countered from nearby, “It’s bound to be a treasure trove of the kind of ships we want. Parts, too. We could fix up those X-wings out there. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, and let’s face it. We’re beggars.”

Connix entered the room, out of breath. “A message came in on the Millennium Falcon,” she announced, looking to my mother, “From Maz Kanata. She said you’d want to see it immediately, or I wouldn’t have interrupted.”

Poe and turned to each other in confusion, what did Maz have to say that she didn’t say to us?

“Can you patch it through?” Mom asked.

After Charth helped Connix connect, Maz’s face replaced the inventory list in the center of the table.

“Greetings, Leia.” Maz greeted loudly as she looked around the room, “I see you’re doing well collecting your allies to you.”

“We would be better if you had joined us.” Mom replied, I had a feeling she was trying her hardest to be polite. After Poe and I had recounted our encounter with Maz, Mom was just as confused and slightly offended.

“Ah, of course, of course,” Maz said passively, “But the ways of the Force are mysterious, and it was not my time.”

“I hear you have news for us, Maz,” Mom continued, trying to propel the conversation forward.

“Yes!” Maz exclaimed, “Did Dameron and your daughter tell you of the list?”  “A rumored list of First Order political prisoners and dissidents,” Mom answered.

“It’s not just a rumor anymore. I’ve seen it. Well, parts of it.”

Everyone began to talk amongst themselves, Mom silenced them with a wave of her hand, “How?”  “A rule I live my life by: If you have anything worth stealing,” Maz said, “Someone will eventually steal it.”

“Someone stole the list?" Mom asked with a lightness to her voice.

“Fortunately, the thief who has acquired it is an old acquaintance of mine.”

“Will they give it to us?”

“Hard to tell. Nifera can be mercurial. She likes games,” Maz answered with in a playful tone.

“We have to play a game for it?” Mom raised a brow.

“Not exactly, but then again...” Maz went on, “She’s holding an auction at her birthday party. Invitation-only to the party, and the auction will happen sometime during the event. List goes to the highest bidder. You know how thieves are.”

“When and where?” Mom asked, we were finally starting to get somewhere.

“The party will be held on Corellia, in Coronet City,” Maz explained, “As for when, you’ll just have to be ready to move quickly when the information comes in. I should know soon.”

Poe and I connected the dots at the same time and shared a smile before he addressed the group, “As long as we’re in Coronet City, might as well pick up some ships.”  Mom muttered something I couldn’t hear, but I made out the word ‘Force’. She turned her attention back to Maz, “Maz, you said it’s invitation-only? Can we-”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Maz waved a hand, “Two invitations secured. One for a handsome but unscrupulous profiteer from Canto Bight, his wife and his junior business partner, and one for the ambassador of Ryloth and guest. It’s the best I could do under the circumstances. You’ll have to improvise.”

“Who’s the profiteer from Canto Bight?” Poe questioned with a scrunched brow, “There’s no one like that with the Resistance.”

“Well, of course not, Dameron. I made him up. Pick someone, whoever you like. But,” Maz said with a devious smile sliding across her face, “I was thinking of you when I said he was handsome.”

Maz flourished her sentence with a wink, my entire body went rigid as I tried to contain my laughter. I rubbed a hand over my mouth to conceal my grin. It became harder to hide when the veteran pilot Poe had been talking with slapped him on the back and said, “The little woman has you there, you are a handsome man.”

“Thank you, Maz,” Mom jumped in, “We accept the invitations.”  “Leia,” Rieekan quietly said, “How do we know this list is even real?”

“Who said that?” Maz asked, leaning forward in the holo, “Hmm...it’s real because I just confirmed it’s real. Didn’t you hear me? I’ve seen it.”

“You said you saw a partial list,” Rieeken corrected, “So even if we concede it’s real, how do we know it’s useful?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s useful or not” I strongly stated, “There are good people being kept prisoner for doing nothing more than disagreeing with the First Order. We have to help them.”  “They could be friends and family,” Norra supported me with a firm nod, “Y/n’s right. We should help them.”

“And we will,” Mom confirmed, “But Rieekan has a point. Our funds are limited. Before we commit to spending them at some thief’s auction, we should know more.”

 “We could just steal it,” Shriv suggested, “I mean, the list is stolen. We could just steal it again.”

“Is that really the best idea?” Poe asked.

“We’re talking about stealing ships, aren’t we?” Shriv shrugged, “What’s the difference?”

“Lifting a few First Order fighters is payback,” Norra said.

“I’d rather not turn the Resistance into a den of thieves,” Leia sighed, “But we’ll do what we have to do.”

“You’ll have to pay the reserve to be allowed into the auction,” Maz noted, “After that, it’s up to you. But if you get caught with your hand in the biscuit bin, there won’t be a nice trial and punishment, you know. These people will kill you.”

“Fun,” I whispered under my breath.

“Your friend sounds charming,” Mom said dryly.

“Meh,” Maz shrugged, “Rich, yes. Charm? Charm was never her strong point.”

“I still think we should see who and what is on this list before we commit to any action,” Rieekan objected once again, “Maz, can you share what you have?”

“It will come over encrypted,” Maz said before a sudden noise interrupted her, “Have to go, hope I see you in Coronet City. Especially you, Dameron. And wear something nice. This Canto Bight fellow is quite dapper, I hear,” Maz blew a kiss to Poe, “Tah!”

She disconnected and I leaned over discreetly to my boyfriend, “Looks like I’ve got competition.” The comment earned me an elbow in my side, it was well worth it to watch his face change ten shades of red.

“Did we get the partial list?” Mom asked Connix.

“She just sent the invitations,” she answered as she searched her data pad, “No list yet.”

“Thoughts, while we’re waiting?” Mom asked our group.

Eventually, with a little more discussion, it was decided that Shriv would take command of a squadron and head to Bracca. They were to collect as many star fighters as they were able to. Wedge had pulled Mom and Poe into a conversation where I overheard him proposing he should be the one to go to Corellia and get the list. Mom was just suggesting we wait and see the list when Connix announced it was transmitting. The holo appeared, branded with the First Order logo. Sure enough, there was a partial list of names and last known locations under the title ’Subversives’.

“Hey, Poe,” Finn said as he came to stand with us, “You’re finally on someone’s most-wanted.”  I quickly scanned down the list to see Poe’s initials with the word Crait next to it. A chill ran down my spine, I’d always known with our reputations that we were both high on the First Order’s kill list. But knowing and seeing were two different things and seeing his name made what we were doing feel all the more real. My own initials rested at the very top of the list, I wasn’t sure if it was organized by most wanted. If so, I knew exactly who wanted me dead that bad. I’d always feared for Poe’s life more than my own, but Crait had been a sobering experience. It had shown me just how much I didn’t want to die.

The tips of Poe’s fingers brushed the back of my hand lightly, just enough to let me know he was there. Had we not been in a room full of people, I would have been seeking comfort in his arms.

“This is an assassination list.” Norra’s voice broke my thoughts, “This is why we can’t find our allies. They’re hunting them down, one by one.”

“Well, they’re not going to get us,” Finn said confidently. I wished I was as steady as he was in the moment.

We looked over the rest of the list, it included the names of those currently detained and those they were planning on arresting. Next to their initials were their reason for arrest, which all sounded ridiculous. Something as simple as questioning a directive would get them imprisoned.

“So Maz’s friend can decode these names for us?” I asked, finally having drained the fear from my voice.

“That’s my understanding,” Mom said quietly, her eyes were still scanning the list.

“It’s smart,” Wedge observed, “The auction list, I mean. Offer enough information to make people think that someone they know is on the list but with no guarantees.”

“People will pay their last credits for even the possibility of finding their missing loved ones,” Norra added.

“When it could all be a false hope,” Snap voiced the , fear we were all trying to ignore, “Foolish people and foolish dreams.”

“Nothing foolish about hope,” Rey mumbled from nearby, I turned and we shared a knowing smile.

There was more talk and guessing as to who the initials might belong to. There were titles like senator and diplomat all the way to celebrities and athletes. Those thought dead now stood a chance at being alive. Poe turned to Mom to ask if we would go through with the plan. She suddenly appeared much older than she actually was, trembling and silent with her eyes glazed with tears. Poe and I were on each side of her instantly.

“What is it?” he asked with a protective hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“Mom,” I whispered, holding onto her waist, “Talk to me. Do you need to rest?”  She looked up with tear streaks painting her face, her lips curved into a smile. “It’s the list” she said in disbelief, “I-I never knew. I thought he was gone.” 

“Who?” Poe asked.

“An old friend,” she said as she patted our hands in reassurance that she was alright. We cautiously let go and went back to our spots next to her, keeping a close eye on her. “And if I’m reading it right, he’s being held on Coronet City."  As we discussed the possibility that it could all be a trap, it began to feel less like one. Mom now had another fire lit under her at the thought of being reunited with her old friend and though it was risky, it felt like a chance we needed to take.

“So we’re going after the list?” Poe asked after a moment.

Mom looked around the room and gauged everyone’s reactions. For the most part, we’d reached an agreement. “Yes, and the ships. And if you can, Senator Casterfo.”

“Leia,” Yendor said, shocked, “Do you think it could be?”  She gave a single nod. Whoever this person was, he meant something to a lot of people.

“And if we can’t?” I asked, hating to be pessimistic and dash my mother’s hope, ”What happens if it’s not him?”  Mom let out a heavy breath, “Then I’m a fool. But it doesn’t change our mission. We rescue those prisoners, anyway.”

I wanted it to be the person she was searching for. She needed a win after all she’d been though the past week. We all did.

Shriv confirmed that he had his team together to go to Bracca. Charth said that he would join Poe at the party with the invitation for the Ryloth ambassador. Wedge and Norra volunteered to go to Coronet City and retrieve the ships we needed. As Poe dismissed them, the pressure amplified. Three teams with three missions and the survival of the Resistance resting on their backs. While I still had doubts and there were a million ways any one of the plans could go wrong, I had faith. More than that, I had hope. I was so wrapped in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize there was a conversation happening next to me until Mom bumped me with her cane.

“Where’s your head, Commander?” Mom asked, Poe was beside her watching me carefully. Probably to make sure I wasn’t ready to fall apart, but I was far from it.

“In the future,” I answered firmly, “With the Resistance thriving.”

Mom smiled proudly, “Good answer.” She turned to leave, but Poe’s call of her name stopped her.

“What you said, about the First Order being on Ryloth,” he said, “Do you think it’s safe for you and Rieekan and the others to stay?”

She shook her head, “No. But there is no ‘somewhere safe’ for us anymore. We’ll stay as long as we can, monitor the missions and give tactical support.”

The fear was gnawing away at my stomach at the thought of the First Order figuring out where we were. I didn’t want us to get hit just as we were gaining a little bit of ground. “What happens if the First Order finds us?”  Mom sighed and patted both our arms, “Then we do what we always do, fight.”

Poe and I were left in silence, a few conversations continuing softly as people left the war room. It was a heavy thought Mom had left us with. But it caused another surge of determination to run through me, failure wasn’t an option.

“You good?” Poe asked, sliding a hand up my lower back.

“Yeah,” I replied, looking up to meet his wondering gaze, “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

“Hold on, speedy,” he laughed under his breath as he pulled me back to my spot, “We’ve got an important matter at hand.”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion as he took hold of both my hands. I quickly looked around to see that we were the last two people in the war room.

“It seems like I’m in need of a wife,” he said, referencing the invitation, “And I was wondering if you would do me the honor of…wait.”  Poe dropped to one knee, keeping my hands locked with his. The sincerity in his eyes made my heart flutter as we took advantage of a few seconds of intimate silence. “Y/n Solo, will you do me the honor of being my wife for the evening?”  “Poe Dameron,” I grinned, “I would love to be your one night wife.”

He let out an exaggerated exhale of relief, clutching his chest as if he’d thought I would decline. I laughed and began to pull him up, but he stayed planted on the ground.   “I think you’re forgetting something,” Poe said teasingly, squeezing my hands before releasing them. He reached around to the back of his neck, undoing the chain that lived permanently against his chest. He collected his mother’s ring in his palm and grabbed my hand again.  “Poe,” I protested hurriedly, “I can’t wear-“  “Yes,” he argued with a content smile, “You can. Even in a fake marriage, this is the only ring I’d ever consider giving you.”

I went silent as he slid the ring onto my fourth finger. It fit too perfectly, like it was made for me. I knew the history of who’d worn it before me and I hoped that had she still been alive, Shara would have approved of me. I had to remind myself it wasn’t a real proposal, no matter how much it felt like one.

Poe and I smiled softly at each other as he rose to his full height, pulling me into his arms for the hug I’d longed for since we’d arrived. I dug my head into his shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling his comforting scent and trying to exhale every anxious thought I had.

“We need to get going,” Poe murmured, reluctantly pulling back from me.

“No, just a little longer,” I pleaded as I tightened my grip around him, “Please.”  Poe responded to my request silently by sinking back into our embrace, his warm palms seeping through my clothing to my skin. He face found its favorite place buried in my neck, pressing a few light kisses against the skin. My hands fisted the orange fabric of his flight suit. It felt like the galaxy had frozen time momentarily for us to simply hold each other. Just a few more seconds, I told myself, then we’d come back to our problems.

————

A/N: If you only knew what a chaotic trio there will be in next week’s chapter...😂 I’m not even going to mess around with adding the taglist because I know tumblr will mess it up again so I’ll place it in the comments. Hope you enjoyed! 🧡

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x solo!reader #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

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willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Shiro cauterizing Keith’s wounds during a mission and absolutely hating it

tw: not too vivid but still there depiction of intentionally burning someone’s skin

The soldier had Keith in a precarious hold. This wouldn’t end well if someone didn’t do something, but Keith couldn’t do much and Shiro was trying to stall. Hunk thinks he can get the message to the others that shit has gone down, but how hurt is Keith going to get before they can get to them?

“Drop your weapons or the red paladin dies!”

The last galra soldier that remained from the group that ambushed them twisted Keith’s arm until there was a crack soon drowned out entirely by his scream as his bayard finally fell from his grip. With a sickening snarl the soldier then pressed the tip of his gun further into Keith’s cheek.

“Okay, okay!” Shiro placated with his hands out in front of him.

“Hunk, put it down!”

“But Shiro...”

The soldier took Keith’s arm from where it had fallen limp against his side and pulled it behind his back. His scream was raw, his throat already hoarse.

“Put it down.”

Hunk obeyed this time, tossing his bayard away from him where it reverted back into its plain form.

“Now, let’s discuss how this is going to work...”

Hunk tuned everything else out, letting Shiro handle the negotiating so he could listen in on Pidge and Lance’s conversation over the coms. Keith’s helmet had long since been knocked off but he wasn’t sure why they couldn’t hear the conversation on Shiro’s end.

They were in the next squadrant over, waiting for an order that would never come. Shiro and the soldier continued to trade useless banter, knowing full well Shiro was stalling but the soldier seemed to be as well, probably waiting for reinforcements. He got an idea then and focused on the scene in front of him.

“... Emporer Zarkon will be most pleased to have a paladin so dear to the Champion in his possession—“

“I am not the Champion anymore.”

Shiro spoke evenly, his voice strong and sure as the soldier smiled.

“You’ll always be the Champion.”

Hunk could’ve sworn he saw a spark of purple from Shiro’s prosthetic hand, his heart hammering at the sight and all the more with what he was about to do. But he steeled himself and spoke before the others started again.

“Shiro isn’t your Champion...” he gulped, unable to hide the tremor in his voice as other voices of concern came over the com and Shiro’s admonishing gaze urged him to be quiet.

“What’s that yellow paladin? Speak up!” the soldier adjusted his grip on the blaster pointed at Keith.

He was a picture of calm, breath almost as even as Shiro’s but when his eyes met Hunk’s they shone wide with fear, the usual warm indigo a deep, pleading violet.

What they were pleading for he couldn’t be sure, but he assumed something along the lines of what Shiro’s were.

“HUNK! What’s happening?”

But Hunk was determined. He knew what he was doing.

“You heard me...”

“Pidge—“

“Triangulating their location now...”

Hunk stood up straighter than he’d been standing before and looked to the soldier once more.

“Shiro isn’t your Champion.”

Shiro looked like Hunk usually did, like he wanted to throw up.

“Got it! We’re on our way now, hold on!”

Keith’s face fell with the same sort of gut wrenching despair.

“He’s the Black Paladin and he’s a hero, no thanks to you or...”

“Or who?” the soldiers smirk twisted up even more, the excitement in his eyes flaring at the exchange.

“Or Zarkon.”

“Emporer Zarkon,” the soldier spat. “And he’s hardly a Black Paladin, he doesn’t even hav—yes? Come in, this is...”

While the soldier communicated with someone in his own com system Hunk shared a look with Shiro, neither daring to move an inch otherwise as Hunk mouthed something to him with a steady watch back on the soldier.

When Hunk looked back to Shiro his face seemed more hopeful and set with something else. He met Hunk’s eyes with admiration and nodded. A new plan seemed to be brewing that Hunk wasn’t entirely sure he was aware of, but he’d set something into motion.

Of what, he didn’t know, but he didn’t need to. He’d trusted his unruly gut for once and it had payed off.

“You two!” the soldier faced them again.

“Turn around and start walking.”

“Why would we do that?” Shiro questioned smugly.

The soldier only laughed and in one swift motion traded the blaster at Keith’s face for his giant hand around his throat. They both cried out when he clawed at the hold as the soldier choked him, not letting go until his hand fell away and he sagged against him, breathless but still conscious. His choking grip turned into a threatening one, the claws of his massive hand pressing down instead.

“You will do what I say because if you don’t, the red paladin dies.”

The blaster was now pointed at them. Shiro met Keith’s weary eyes now, half lidded and lazy as the redness left his face.

“Hunk,” Shiro motioned for him to turn around with him, their hands raising to rest on the back of their heads.

“Walk!”

They walked and Hunk listened to Lance and Pidge over their coms as they closed the distance between them, apparently not encountering much resistance as they did of which was unanimously decided, not a good thing.

“They’re moving, shit!”

“Well, that means they’re not in a cell or anything yet... we still have time.”

“According to this schematic the hallway they’re in is pretty long... we’d be pretty exposed if we came up this way... hey, this room has a second entrance... if we hurry—“

“But we don’t know how many soldiers are with them, it’s no use if we’re all captured. We need a less conspicuous way, maybe somewhere I can snipe...”

“Hm, less conspicuous... I wonder...”

“GAH!”

Keith wailed and the two boys in front of him stopped dead in their tracks but didn’t dare turn around when the blaster they knew was pointed at them buzzed to life.

“Resisting is pointless, boy.”

“Not... r’sisting...” Keith grumbled scratchily, if his voice had sounded hoarse before it was well past wrecked now.

Four beads of blood made their way down his neck from where the soldier had broken the skin after Keith had tripped over his own feet, still lightheaded from before and not able to keep up with the soldier’s footsteps.

“What’s that?” his pressure on the now open wounds on his throat increased and more blood spilled down.

“N’thing.”

“That’s what I thought, keep walking!”

“Hunk?! We have a plan! Keep stalling if you can, just don’t let them get you into a cell or anything.”

He didn’t respond, he just keep walking with his hands at the back of his head.

The soldier would shove Keith occasionally if he stumbled or slowed. His throat had stopped bleeding for the most part and he’d caught his breath, but his arm remained twisted back so if the soldier shoved him too hard or walked too fast he had to shift to keep from crying out.

And when he couldn’t help but grunt or wince, the soldier would twist it further. He was certain something was broken with the way it throbbed and pulsed but couldn’t do much except try and anticipate what would end up making it hurt worse.

They walked for another minute until anything else happened. The soldier halting the group once again to speak into his communication device. Hunk hadn’t heard anything directed at him from Lance and Pidge from a while, just hushed acknowledgments and questions and orders.

“...what do you mean the doors are jammed, the doors don’t jam!”

Pidge.

“...yes, I still have them in my possession... I will be waiting at the east entrance then... well, update me when you do know!”

Yeesh. Hunk would have thought he was overhearing a domestic if he didn’t know better, smiling outwardly that Pidge’s hacking could muster up such frustration in the supposedly infallible galra soldiers.

It was a moment later when they had started walking again that Hunk heard what he’d been desperately hoping to hear.

“Hunk! It’s time. Please make sure no one tries to be a hero, thanks... okay, Pidge inbound in 3... 2...”

Hunk thought he might be as sick as Shiro had looked when he first started all this as he waited for whatever was about to happen to happen. He wasn’t sure what made him certain whatever was going to happen would be in front of them, so he wasn’t feigning the terror in his shriek when a door behind them clattered to the ground with a booming thud.

The soldier whipped around instantly, planting his back to the wall so he could eye what had just happened behind them while keeping his blaster trained on Shiro and Hunk.

There was nothing for a moment until Pidge’s grappling hook came hurtling towards them at the same time a vent above them clattered down. The soldier was bewildered at first but it soon became more that he was extremely pissed off and so he turned his gun back to Keith, the nozzle aimed at his leg.

“Welcome, green and blue paladins of voltron. Do come out and greet us properly, you’re just in time for the show,” the soldier delivered, firing his blaster before Pidge’s bayard wrapped itself around it and wrenched it from his grip.

Keith let out an inhuman sound before his legs gave out beneath him, but the galra lifted him before he could crumple entirely, maneuvering his writhing form so that he covered everything vital, effectively obscuring any shot Lance could find from his position in the air duct above them.

“Damnit,” he huffed over the coms, “Hunk I have no shot... not, not without going through Keith.”

Understanding washed over Hunk like he’d been flattened by a cement truck. He seriously would have to heave at some point, but knew that the next few moments were vital with the soldier’s claws still pressed to Keith’s neck.

Shiro was trying to reason with the soldier again, but everyone knew it was futile. The only reason Keith was still breathing was because he was holding out for backup, but with the circumstances growing worse and worse for the soldier, their hearts sank knowing full well the only way it would end for both of them.

The galra soldier would kill Keith if he grew desperate enough, in turn killing himself.

The hand that held the blaster moved to Keith’s side. The soldier couldn’t threaten to claw anywhere terribly vital with the awkward grip he had him in, all of his weight was being supported with the soldier’s arms under his armpits.

He had to bend his own neck to angle himself behind Keith’s hanging head, the paling boy only meeting the massive soldier’s chest with his shoulders.

Keith was eyeing the hint of blue peaking out of the vent above them, his face scrunching up with something other than pain for a moment before he met Hunk’s gaze.

“If there is one,” he croaked, his words now directed at the vent, “take it.”

“Sorry man,” Lance breathed.

Shiro didn’t even have time to make sense of what had just been said before the sound of a blaster echoed from the metal of the small vent above them.

Keith’s shoulder jerked forward violently as the blast tore through it, the soldier making a horrible gurgling sound before releasing him. He tumbled forward listlessly into Shiro who clutched him close and lowered him down slowly, a pool of blood forming quickly beneath him from the gaping wounds in his thigh and shoulder.

“We’ve gotcha buddy, everything’s okay now—“

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“What’s wrong Pidge?!”

The sound of metal clanging against metal rang through the hallway from where Pidge had been stationed.

“I’ve got... company... someone get here now!”

“I got it, you guys help the mullet,” Lance stated resolutely, tossing his bayard to the floor before gripping the edge of the vent, dangling his legs down and jumping.

He landed in a crouch, snatched the discarded blaster up as well as his own weapon and took off sprinting.

Hunk took one look at the scene in front of him and had to choke back bile. The dead galra soldier was slumped next to a lifeless Keith and agonized Shiro.

“-nk, HUNK! Come here, I need your help now!”

His feet moved without him even meaning them to, carrying him unsteadily to kneel beside his friends, his back to the soldier.

Parts of his armor were missing to reveal the still burning flesh of his blaster wounds, the black undershirt adequately melted into his flesh. Hunk’s stomach turned again.

There was so much blood beneath him...

And Keith was so pale.

The boy didn’t have much tint to begin with, but now his porcelain complexion resembled more of a grey, decaying one. Like he was already dead. Hunk fought more bile coming up his throat before he heard Shiro’s voice again.

“Did you hear what I just said? I need you to hold him down—“

“What?! Why?!”

“He’s bleeding too much... the blaster went clean through his armor from such a close range...”

Shiro’s eyes were focused but his face was set in a grimace, his tone solemn and finite.

“I-I have to cauterize the wounds...”

Oh...

Shiro looked at his prosthetic arm with disgust and Hunk realized what he was about to do.

“...or he’ll bleed out before we even get to the lions, not to mention getting out of here is going to be trickier than we planned... so I need you to hold him, can you do that?”

Hunk swallowed the salvia collecting in his mouth and nodded. His job wasn’t done yet. He’d set the rescue into motion, but his friends still needed him.

His gut was what saved them, Hunk wasn’t going to let it be what killed Keith.

“His leg first, it’s bleeding the most...”

Hunk slid down to Keith’s lower half. The wound was worse up close, angry and precise, the hole perfectly circular all the way through. He switched to breathing through his mouth before he discovered what burning flesh smelled like and compromised the whole effort.

Shiro’s hand blazed to life and his face fell over Keith’s, his eyes were slitted and glassy but very much open. Both boys wishing silently that he wouldn’t remain conscious for long once Shiro started.

“Keith? Hey, buddy. I have to do something to help you and I need you to stay as still as you can...”

Shiro shifted back into place at his legs once he nodded as best he could.

“This is going to hurt...” he moved his hand to hover over the wound and Keith closed his eyes.

“S’okay,” he assured with a shudder.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound that filled the hallway was earpeiercing. Hunk would have been concerned about it revealing their whereabouts had they not already been known.

Keith shook steadily, his entire body drenched in sweat within seconds. His eyes remained pressed closed and his hands were balled up in as much of a fist as they could make despite injuries to both arms.

Shiro was lifting his leg at the knee and pressing over the exit wound before Keith could regain his breath. The next scream was more of a howl, the pitch rising into something somehow more piercing than the last.

“Almost done,” Shiro offered as both of them repositioned themselves at Keith’s chest, Hunk’s hands falling to his good shoulder and opposite collarbone.

“Gimme... a second...” he huffed uneasily, fighting unconsciousness for the sake of the alternative, being woken up by yet another scorching burn from his brother’s alien prosthesis.

“M’kay... d-do it—“

Hunk was closer this time and had to use more leverage to pin Keith down, so he wasn’t as lucky when it came to avoiding the smell. He was forced to breathe in the terrible heat of his friend’s burning skin when the sight of the steam and melting flesh set him off and had him clamping his lips together before he spewed everywhere. He barely managed to choke his sick back down when the smell assaulted him seconds after.

All the while fighting his own reaction he also had to keep Keith steady. He was slighter than Hunk and injured but gave his friend a run of his money as he writhed. There was a pang in his chest at the thought of his grip leaving bruises with how forceful he had to be so Shiro could finish his work on the front of his shoulder.

Keith slumped down almost immediately after Shiro lifted his hand the third time, his head turning from side to side like he wanted to cry as he fought to stay awake again.

“Help me roll him on his side,” Shiro ordered as he began gently lifting Keith’s body. Hunk pulled at the same time and caught him, holding him in a sort of embrace when his trembling hand came to grab at his leg, letting his head fall against it once he found purchase.

He didn’t even complain about being pushed onto his broken arm, that pain was barely identifiable then.

“Last one...”

Keith didn’t cry out this time. He’d finally passed out, his head limp on Hunk’s leg as Shiro seered into his back with his purple heat.

Hunk couldn’t hold it back any longer and turned his head to the side to vomit. He thought he could hear Shiro choking down gags as well but waved the thought away as he tried his best to aim his mess away from the injured Keith still collapsed on his leg.

When he returned Shiro looked as green as him as he moved to slide his arms under Keith.

“We should go help the others, I’ll hang back with him while you cover us.”

Shiro spoke mechanically, like something else had taken over for the time being. Hunk didn’t question any of it though, he just let Keith be taken up and activated his bayard.

The scene they found where Pidge had been was an impressive one, their teammates hunched over on their knees in front of a dozen sentries sprawled in heaps and still smoking.

“Woah, d’the mullet look that bad before...?” Lance asked through thick inhales. Pidge looked up from her own recovery position and surveyed Keith’s limp form, her mind working over the missing armor now piled on his stomach and the dark patches that should be bleeding blaster wounds.

“He’s okay for now—we, er, handled the worst of it,” Hunk offered when Shiro remained quiet.

“We should start making our way to the next quadrant before the next wave arrives, from there it’s a straight shoot to our lions...” Pidge stated, “what are we doing about Red though?”

“She’ll know what to do, she probably knows something’s wrong, and if not Black can tow her, let’s move.”

They only met one other wave of sentries on their way to their lions, effortlessly slipping out of the galra ship before they could reconcile the systems Pidge jammed and detain them.

No one spoke much, Lance too weary to ask what had everyone so solemn and Pidge too wise for her own good, piecing it together on her own and knowing better than to open that can of worms there.

Hunk was as silent and withdrawn as Shiro, neither boy appearing all that present, though Hunk would respond when pulled back to reality with a question. Shiro didn’t. He held onto Keith like he was his lifeline, like if he let go the younger boy would disappear.

His gaze was unfocused and his jaw was set, like if he spoke or unfurled his brows he’d break.

Because he would. He held Keith the entire way back to the castle, Black and Red piloting for them both when he crumbled as soon as he’d set foot on Black’s ramp, finally letting loose the tears of guilt he harbored over having to hurt Keith who was basically his brother.

He was the closest thing to home Keith ever had. Not the house kind, more of the solid and unwavering warmth in knowing you have somewhere to come back to kind. Except for Keith his home was a someone.

All of that in one person... who’d abandoned him... twice.

And now he’d caused him unspeakable agony.

Sure it was to save him from bleeding out, but that detail meant nothing to Shiro then. You weren’t supposed to hurt family, not the way he had.

He held Keith close and wept. He wept for them both. He wept for it all. For the tragedies of their terrible pasts. For the scars scored into the uncertainty of their futures. For everything that was and everything that could be.

The tears were unrelenting. They fell over how the unwanted contraption that had saved his life was what saved Keith’s in the most excruciating way possible. The place where the alien metal met his flesh burned as he imagined Keith’s might, a crawling, itching fury that made him tremble.

His body shook for the fact that he had to lead a group of teenagers into war when they were far too young for such a responsibility. Eyes burned for how he had to do this so soon after his own hellish tragedy. His chest ached, his head pounded, his body tingled. He felt all of the feeling he had to push away to be stoic for them, for himself, because if he wasn’t... than who would be?

It was cathartic and healing. The guilt he had for hurting Keith still very much there and raw but the edge had been taken off so that it didn’t feel so heavy and horrible. He knew that he’d had to do it, he could see that now.

He composed himself just before Black landed, combing back the stringy rivulets of damp hair that blocked Keith’s eyes from view. They were closed and fluttering peacefully, his entire face so relaxed and free of anguish that it looked like he was dreaming. Shiro hoped it was something nice. Something not close to this, any of this.

Hunk looked like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he saw Shiro emerge from Black with a sad smile on his face and not a blank, pained stare.

Allura and Coran were shocked to find Keith’s wounds in the state they were in once they got him to the infirmary, the entire team in awe of of all three of them once they discovered what he and Hunk did to save him.

“That explains the blood-curdling screams we were hearing,” Lance gaped.

“We were scared more sentries had dropped in on you after we heard the first one... figured something like that was going on though,” Pidge added.

“It might take a tick longer to get him into a cryosuit... the under armor suit is melted pretty severely into his skin. No fault to you, Shiro, it was likely already in such a way from the initial blast.”

“R-right...” he turned away then, stumbling as he tried to find a trash can but his stomach was churning and he couldn’t help it when he only managed to make it a couple feet away from the others before vomitting.

“Hey,” Allura stepped away from the exam table Keith was on, a slew of carts around him with instruments and supplies to take on the predicament.

“Don’t you think for a second that you are allowed to feel guilty about this.”

Her tone was firm and her voice soft as she pulled Shiro from the hole he’d slipped back into, her hand on his back as he wiped his mouth with the towel she’d handed him.

“You saved Keith’s life. He knows how you feel about your hand and that you’d do anything for him. You proved that is all. You should be proud of yourself, and of him for believing in you, like we all are.”

Shiro let out the air he’d been holding in, the breath felt like a rubber band snapping, any residual weight from guilt evaporating as if it’d never been there.

“Th-thank you, Allura.”

She smiled at him fondly, her hand cuping his face before moving to his shoulder and guiding him back to the table to assist in separating Keith from his under suit.

The three of them and Pidge all taking a wound, Lance and Hunk fishing them tools and cleaning away the debris they uncovered. Pidge’s tiny fingers proved more than useful when it came to the ridiculously precise bits.

Everyone was exhausted by the time his singed skin was free of all melted fabric.

“Good work back there guys, seriously,” Shiro directed his statement at Lance and Pidge once they’d gotten Keith in a pod and settled in for the long night, everyone pretty much refusing to leave his side for the foreseeable future.

“We would’ve been in some deep shit if you hadn’t taken over...”

Shiro leaned his head back against the door of the cryopod next to Keith’s, Pidge settled in his lap like a cat, her legs wrapped around Lance who was leaned heavily against an already half asleep Hunk.

“Well you’d stolen Pidge’s gig when you went all McGyver mode, but turns out she can hold her own just fine as the interim front line of voltron, who knew?—Owwh!”

“If anyone wants to congratulate me for withholding my vomit until after Shiro was done cauterizing Keith’s wounds,” Hunk yawned with a stretch, “I won’t stop you!”

“You did great Hunk, you orchestrated the entire rescue while I tried to play diplomat. Sometimes I forget whose supposed to be leading who sometimes.”

“We all learn from each other everyday we’re up here,” Allura mused as she draped several blankets over the bunch, tucking one in around Pidge and wrapping another over Shiro’s shoulders.

“Yeah, and you’re just the one we keep around because you have a valid license in case anyone asks—AHA, stop! I’m gonna cry, stop tickling me!”

Shiro eventually stopped, but only after she got the hiccoughs from laughing too aggressively.

The group fell asleep in a heap of blankets that night and returned to said heap the next night and the night after that. Shiro was the only one awake when Keith’s pod whooshed open early in the morning on the third day.

Coran couldn’t estimate when he’d pop out once it passed the time it suggested he’d needed for the internal stuff, staying in for 9 more hours to fully repair the burns and replenish his blood count.

He’d said he would probably be drained when he got out so Shiro being there was the only reason he hadn’t fallen straight to his face.

“Finally,” he laughed as he brought them both to the ground.

“Lance wouldn’t stop going on about how you’d chosen now of all times to listen to him about getting ‘proper beauty sleep’.”

Keith smiled tiredly, his eyes barely cracked open, heavy with exhaustion now rather than pain.

“Thanks for doing that back there... didn’t feel too great at the time—ha, but it was very needed.”

“Well someone’s gotta keep you idiots alive.”

“Glad it’s you, Shiro... hey... can-can I sleep now? M’really tired...”

“Yeah, you can sleep. I’ve gotcha, buddy. I’ve always got you.”

#keith whump #whumpee #vld #whump scenario #voltron legendary disaster #voltron whump #voltron fic #takashi shirogane #shiro/keith

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lukashomeros · 3 years

Text

Adimos Tapes: Chapter 1

Present - Virgil

7 years ago, Virgil decides to spend the weekend at a cabin with his boyfriend at the time Patton. When he returns home two days later, he finds his mother brutally murdered and his twin brother Janus missing, but that was 7 years ago. He had all but given up ever seeing his brother again, so Virgil moved on with his life and married his high school sweetheart.

Now his brother is home, and he won't tell anyone what happened. Though one thing is clear, Janus is convinced his captors will return for him.

I'm getting used to using tumblr, so if I need to add any tags please let me know!

Out of all the things Virgil expected of the day, he would have never guessed this. Not in a million years. He couldn’t comprehend the words the officers in front of him said and barely registered the comforting hand of his husband on his shoulder. At some point, he was guided to the living room and sat down.

“Come in,” Patton called after the two officers who followed inside, sitting across from Virgil. “Here, love.” A cool glass of water was placed in his hands and Virgil sipped from it. Questions swarmed his mind, but not a single one made it past his lips as the officers continued.

“We found him a month ago, but he was in intensive care and refused to speak, so it was almost impossible to ID him at the time.” One officer spoke, sitting up straight and maintaining eye contact with Virgil. Meanwhile, the other kept his gaze down but maintained good posture. “He’s still…” The officer pondered an appropriate word, biting his bottom lip. “Scarred, and he won’t speak, but we’re certain it’s him.”

“I want to see him, I have to see him,” Virgil blurted out, gripping the glass tightly with shaking shoulders as he fought back tears. As he fought back images of the video the bastards who took his twin brother sent him. It was no use though, fighting anything. “He must be so scared,” Hot tears spilled down his cheeks while images of his brother flashed in his head. The pure panic as Janus realized it wasn’t Virgil in the kitchen, the thud of his body falling on the hard tile after turning too fast to run away, the scream of the man-

“Virgil, breathe for me, please.” Patton cut through the memories and wrapped his arms around his husband, holding him close as he sobbed. They remained like that for some time, before he managed to calm down.

“How did…did you find the son of a bitch who took him?” Virgil asked softly, still clinging to Patton who kissed his head. The officer’s words made both visibly tense, even Patton who appeared to remain completely calm otherwise.

“No, and I won’t lie to you,” Said officer sighed and leaned forward, head bowed slightly, “the only reason we found Janus is because they allowed us to.”

“What do you mean?”

“The FBI followed a trail of breadcrumbs they left, videos and notes, to a home. At that home, they found a closet full of VHS tapes, costumes, and in one of the front rooms a large box. In that box we found your brother, he had been left for us to find.” His voice betrayed the stoic composure he had been attempting to maintain. What he neglected to tell Virgil was that Janus had been left in a costume of his own, as if on display. A short dress with a mask over his head. He had been assumed dead at first, but after checking for a pulse, the FBI quickly brought in paramedics. Virgil did not need to hear that right now, though. “You need to prepare yourself when you see him, alright?” Virgil nodded, gulping down the rest of the water to try and quell the dryness in his mouth.

The drive towards the hospital was painstakingly slow, and without the background noise of the radio it about drove Virgil insane. For obvious reasons, Patton had refused to allow his already upset husband to drive. Although, despite the gut-wrenching silence, neither spoke nor turned on the radio. They simply resigned to their thoughts for the 30-minute drive, Virgil’s mind drifting off to a better time.

While the twins played Mario Kart together-including Janus’ pet snake, currently hanging on his shoulders-Janus gave his iconic grin and cheer after winning a race, 1st place. A smile that was contagious, even if Virgil barely made 6th place. Life had been so carefree, not a single worry. Their parents accepted that both of them were gay and loved them unconditionally despite the two being quite the handful at times. Virgil’s chest tightened as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks once more. Would Janus ever go back to be the gleeful kid he was before, he doubted it. After all, 7 years in what Virgil could only assume was a literal hell had to have damaged him irreparably.

He unconsciously reached for his husbands’ arm, tugging lightly on his sleeve, lest he delved back into a panic attack. As a result, Patton hummed and held Virgil’s hand, intertwining their fingers while driving with his other. How had Janus changed? The question struck fear in his heart.

When they arrived at the hospital, they still had not shared a single word between them, but their hands remained interlocked. Although, they had to break apart to step out of the car, but only for a moment. They walked together to a secluded wing of the hospital, two police officers standing outside a door. Janus’ room, it had to be. Virgil’s breath caught in his throat as the officers focused on them.

“I’m…I’m here to see my brother.” He said as one officer stepped over to him.

“I’ll need to see ID,” Virgil nodded and reached with shaky hands for his wallet in his back pocket. Patton mirrored him, pulling out his own ID. The guard examined both, before speaking again, “Only family is allowed inside for now, Doctor’s orders.” He led Virgil inside the room, leaving Patton waiting outside with a solemn expression and arms held behind his back.

“Janus?” Virgil softly called out to his twin who stared blankly up at the ceiling. As the words left his mouth though, Janus’ expression twisted to pain for a split second before becoming neutral.

“Janus, this is your brother Virgil,” A doctor who had been sitting next to him, clipboard in hand, stood and slowly walked over to Virgil. “I’m Dr. Picani, a psychologist here.” Virgil vaguely recognized the handheld out for him, which he shook without sparing the doctor a glance. Rather than acknowledge Dr. Picani, Virgil looked his brother over. Before Janus had been pudgy, not fat, but he had weight on him, whereas the Janus in front of him had sunken in cheeks, thin and bony arms, and, as much as Virgil wanted to deny it, he assumed his legs were in the same condition despite the hospital blanket covering them. The most damning though was the left side of his face, multiple faint scars most likely from cuts. They stayed strictly on the left side where the only difference between the twins lay. His eyes, specifically, Janus’ once-vibrant golden colored eye, now dimmed with the horrors he endured.

Something else Virgil noted.

“Look, at me, Janus, please,” Virgil’s voice cracked. In spite of the pleading in Virgil’s voice, Janus kept his gaze down, staring at his lap albeit shifting uncomfortably under his stare. So as to prevent either from becoming too upset or setting Janus off, Picani in a hushed whisper scolded him.

“Do not get angry with him,” He held his wrist tightly, “The men who held him beat him into submission. Avoiding eye contact is the least of his worries, right now.” With that, Virgil completely deflated.

“Please, just say something to me, Janus. Let me hear your voice again”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want me to say.” Virgil about melted at his voice, it was barely audible, almost as if Janus was afraid. No terrified, he noted as Janus began rubbing the side of his leg, which was almost a bit of a relief. It was a nervous tick that Janus had before he had been taken, something those monsters neglected to take from him. Although, as soon as Virgil took notice the action ceased immediately and Janus began opening and closing his mouth attempting to speak, but nothing came out. Dr. Picani went to his side in a slow, but clear stride.

“It’s alright, Janus, you can say whatever you want,” He gently held his hand and the two shared a silent moment before Janus spoke again.

“What…I’m…I’m not sure,” Janus laughed dryly, and tears clung to his eyes while his body began to tremble. “Not sure what you want me to say…” He repeated that every so often and each time more heartbreaking than the last, Virgil couldn’t take it. He stepped closer to the bed and in a stern voice, demanded.

“Who took you?”

“Who took me, who took me,” Janus’ eyes glazed over, “the masters, they’re coming to get me right?” He gripped the doctor’s arm and met his gaze again, panic setting in his face. “They have to come to get me, I know I was bad, but they wouldn’t abandon me…” He mouthed the words ‘they love me,’ and Virgil’s stomach twisted.

“Excuse me,” He rushed to the bathroom in the hospital room, hunching over the toilet and proceeded to throw up his breakfast, not noticing a reassuring hand on his back.

“You have to be strong for him, I know this is hard, but you cannot lose it in front of Janus.” Dr. Picani said, sitting on the floor next to him and rubbing circles on his back as Virgil continued to dry heave. How could Virgil remain calm? His brother’s spirit was completely crushed, this wasn’t the sarcastic, witty twin he grew up with. This was a pathetic, beaten boy who had fallen for his captors.

“He’s not Janus, what could they…” The question died on his lips. What could they have done to shatter him like this?

“He is Janus and he needs you now more than ever,” Picani shifted to stand and pulled his hand away, “he spent 7 years under their control, he needs understanding and reassurance to make a full recovery.” Virgil stood on his shaky legs and wiped his mouth. “If you truly cannot take him in then- “

“No, there’s no one else who can take him in, but you’re right, Dr.” Virgil straightened himself up. “I have to be strong for him.”

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wri0thesley · 4 years

Note

number 11 with Melone?

“So…do you want your underwear back?”

warnings for: obsessive behaviour, stalking. neutral reader and pronouns although reader DOES wear sexy underwear.

It's the third pair of underwear that's gone missing this week - and you really liked this pair, dammit! You're tired of going out to the cheapest clothes store you can get to with a shit assassin's wage (what kind of asshole pays their assassins this badly? Your boss, apparently), and having to choose ugly pieces that are on sale and not at all your personal style.

And, unfortunately, you know exactly what's happening to them.

You avoid Melone as much as possible. The rest of the team have not been at all coy about telling you you're doing the right thing; making vague references about how Melone treats possible lovers, or about how he can't be trusted, or about how he's just creepy. You've never been assigned to work with him on a mission - by all accounts, Melone works well alone, and Risotto is glad of that. But this is getting ridiculous.

You know it's none of the other guys. For one thing, they don't seem the type - and for another, most of them have shrugged and admitted they're keeping lovers on the side in safehouses and the like. Trying to keep their loved ones safe in the only ways they can. But Melone . . .

Well.

He's got nobody to come home to, if the boys in the squad are right. And from the hungry way he's always looking at you, eyes travelling the length of your body, hunger radiating off every lithe, panther-like inch of him, he's not particularly interested in keeping a lover off-base. He wants his lover somewhere a little closer to home.

It's not that he isn't handsome - he is handsome. It's just that he's so . . . intense. His eyes focused on you, gloved fingers flying over keyboard keys, low hum of acknowledgement in the back of his throat when somebody speaks to him. Utter focus. The cold, clinical way you've heard him talk about both his marks and his Baby Face mothers. Something about him just gives you shivers and shakes. Sorbet and Gelato are terrifying, sure, but they're terrifying in a way where you know what you're getting if you get on their bad side. Melone seems like he could snap at any moment.

You're not doing any good pontificating. You get up from your bed, slamming the drawer shut - your favourite pair of pale blue satin underwear with lacy rose appliques isn't going to retrieve itself from Melone's room on its own, you guess - and neither are all of the other nice pairs you've had to replace with sale rack rejects in leopard print and hot pink. You're sure Melone would appreciate them - he seems like the kind of guy who'd appreciate that kind of performance - but they're not very you.

You try and be quiet as you pad along the hallway. Melone's out on a mark, so you know he's not going to be around to catch you (the schedules of La Squadra members are easy to pick up on if you listen, or if you sweet-talk Illuso and bring him some of that hair conditioner he likes), but you still don't want anyone reporting back to Melone that you've been snooping about his room. Ugh. You wrinkle your nose, stopping outside his door. You can't believe you're going to go in there out of choice.

You hope it's not going to be like a weird fetish porn studio. You can barely look at the way Melone dresses without flushing red - most of La Squadra dress like they're in an erotic movie, but Melone is the utter worst for it. You pause, and take a deep breath. Alright. You can do this.

You push his door open--

And it's normal.

A perfectly ordinary, serviceable bedroom, much like how yours had looked when you'd first moved into the hideout. Yours is possibly a little more lived-in - you have nice coloured blankets and knick-knacks. Melone's bedroom is bare; a laptop on his desk, some biology and astrology books on a shelf, a tarot deck (you shouldn't be surprised about it, based on how much store he puts in where the planets where on nights people were born) - one decorative throw pillow. It's almost sad, how quickly Melone could probably pack his things up and just leave the squad entirely.

You almost feel bad for him, before you remember why it is you're in his room in the first place.

You're pretty sure Melone is stealing your underwear. Your used underwear, to make it even worse! Right out of your laundry hamper! (Melone, coincidentally, doesn't seem to have a laundry hamper. You wonder if his wardrobe is just full of the exact same suit and snort to yourself before you lean down by his bed and open a drawer).

Boring clothes. Civvies; plain shirts and jeans, that Melone almost never wears because his stand means he can work remotely. Clicking your tongue, you rifle through them - and your fingers catch on a hard edge. You push the fabric to one side and pull out . . . a photo album?

Is he secretly soft-hearted? Sentimental in private? There's a small smile on your face as you flick open the photo album, that falters when you realise the polaroids slipped within the clear casings all have one thing in common.

All of them are of you.

You, smiling as you talk to Formaggio. Your head thrown back in laughter on the sofa downstairs in the living room. Concentrating on a mark on a mission you'd been sent on with Prosciutto - your face falls as you rifle through them.

Not just you as a member of La Squadra.

You as a civilian.

A picture of you before you'd gotten caught up in this business. A picture of you and your family. Your graduating class--

Your heart begins to beat hard in your chest, as you drop the photo album and wrench open the second drawer.

A half-empty bottle of your perfume, that you thought you'd accidentally thrown away. Post, addressed to your old apartment before you'd moved in here. A napkin with a kiss mark pressed against it, lipstick in a colour you haven't worn for over a year.

Your guts feel like they're dropping through the floor as your shaking hands pull open the bottom drawer. This time, Melone's made no attempt to hide things from you.

Your underwear, neatly laid out beside one another, gussets showing. They're stained with something you know isn't from you. A sex toy that you'd bought and only used once because Pesci had knocked on your door whilst you were using it to check you were okay, and you'd bundled it away in your own bottom drawer so you didn't have to look at it and remember the sheer embarrassment of Pesci maybe overhearing you touching yourself--

Three more polaroids. You, undressing in the shower, bent over to fold your clothes. You, hands buried inside your shorts on your bed. You, getting dressed in a morning, bare in the light filtering through the curtains--

Your face burns at how open and vulnerable your naked body is in them.

How did he get these?

Your hands are shaking, your mouth dry. You want to take your underwear back, but also - what might Melone do if he finds out you've found his creepy little shrine?

"Enjoying yourself?"

The voice is soft, the cadences gentle - but you still start, falling to one side, your head turning to stare at Melone through wide, frightened deer in the headlight eyes. He sees the fear on your face and smiles, cold and clinical, and you wonder if perhaps he's just going to kill you right here. He shrugs his elegant shoulders.

"I've been watching you for a while," he says, unhurried as he crosses the room, kneeling beside you on the floor like you aren't trembling viciously. He drags a gloved finger over your face in one of the polaroids, his small smile not faltering for a moment. "I had to bide my time, didn't I? But once you find such a perfect match, you don't want to let them go so easily . . ."

"Y-you're sick," you manage to spit out, heart beating like a drum. Melone tips his head to one side, considering.

"Healthy as a horse," he says, after a moment. He winks at you. "Hung like one too, if you want to find out."

Your fingers cling at his stupid, plain, characterless bedspread as you pull yourself onto your shaking legs.

"I'll tell Risotto," you whisper, your heart seizing in your chest. Your voice is coming out so dry.

"And who do you think he'd prefer to lose, cara?" Melone says. He doesn't sound mean, or patronising, or smug - he sounds like it's a fact of life. "The new recruit, or me? Someone who's never failed on a mission? Who doesn't need a babysitter on jobs?"

"I--" your voice peters away. He's right.

"Besides," he says, motioning at the array of items he's collected. "Do you think I got these myself? Do you think nobody noticed? You're not the only one who can bribe Illuso with hair care products, you know." That same curious, simple smile on his face, he continues; "We share the same favourite brand."

"I . . . This is . . ."

Melone reaches over and he touches your face, griping your cheekbone in his fingers so you can't pull away. Your flesh feels like angry fire every place he skims, sickness rolling in your stomach.

"Oh, you're so pretty," he says, sing-song tone leaking into his voice. "You're going to be so perfect, tesoro."

The spell breaks, and you wrench yourself away. Fuck your underwear. Fuck all of your stuff. You stumble away from him, across the room, heading out of his door on unsteady legs that are at least managing to be fast. You hear Melone's voice, an echoing laugh as you head towards your own room to pack immediately and get the fuck out of here--

"So I'll take it you don't want your underwear back?"

#jjba #yandere melone #not sfw tag #writing #yandere tag #obsessive behaviour #dark content #melone #iwantafreashlybackedbread

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alexandermanes · 3 years

Text

i couldn’t fucking sleep so here’s some deancas fan fiction

honestly the amount of space cas’s speech has taken in my brain (rent fre!!!) is apalling, so jere, have a snippet of what is going on inside my brain

ao3

There’s a door.

And Dean wonders absent-mindedly why the hell does the Empty, the one that engulfed Cas in nothing but darkness and wrenched him away, have a door that leads you to it?

Nevertheless, he studies it with the kind of cautiousness that is ignited by dread, the kind that you feel pricking under your skin, after all, he has no clue what to expect from the other side. It’s temporary, move, he thinks. His hand falls over the knob, the door, lush and dark, a velvety aspect to it, is nothing but menacing. He twists the knob and pushes it slowly, and there right in front of his eyes is nothing but darkness. It’s not that the place is dim or poorly lit, it’s just... dark. The floor is black and glossy, but no shadows or reflections are cast over it, it’s eerie. Despite his initial fears, he can’t help the urgency bubbling up inside, the tremble in his hands and his shortness of breath, he is here for one reason and one reason only: Cas. The thought sparks something akin to desperation, he succumbs to it.

“Cas?”, he shouts and despite of its width, there’s no echo following suit

“Cas?!”, he shouts again, fight instead or flight kicking in

I’m running out of time, Dean reminds himself

He scours the place, but how can you scour a place that’s emptiness itself? He walks and walks and walks and sees nothing. Hears nothing. Nothing at all and it’s terrifying. He feels the last thread of his sanity slipping away. Desperation, ugly, needy, clawing its way up his throat and for a split second he isn’t breathing.

I’m running out of time

Surrounding him, darkness. And the thing about the dark that surrounds him that is so different from the white that encircled him during his short-lived experience in a mental institution is that instead of feeling psychotic, feeling the walls moving, closing in, it feels like the Empty is spreading. It expands, larger and larger like a rapidly growing cancer, deadly. His eyes dart all across his vicinity, dizziness settling in quickly, he’s hyperventilating he’s sure of it. So he closes his eyes. After striding around, feeling like he was merely pacing back and forth, he allows the only darkness surrounding him to come from within, so he shuts his eyes and takes a steadying breath.

The spell ain’t gonna hold me here forever

With his vision being obstructed, he thinks of Castiel. Images flood him, threatening to drown him. He sees him; self-sacrificial, selfless, dumb fucking martyr Castiel. Castiel that in a heartbeat put himself in the frontline of fire and kept Dean behind him once more. Castiel who he is utterly unworthy of. Castiel who saved him again. Castiel who he is in love with, and who, against all odds, loves him out of seven billion humans, uncountable creatures and a few angels. Cas whose ability to love is immense, Cas who the world doesn’t deserve and neither does he. A single tear streams down his face before he can even acknowledge it at all. He closes his eyes impossibly tight and he prays.

He’s done it before, be it out of desperation or sheer longing, but somehow it feels different, since this isn’t a prayer at all, it’s a plea. A plea for Cas to wake up, snap out of it. A plea for him to hear him, to awoke, to come to him. He never yearned to hear his name in Cas’s voice as he does right now. The plea is embedded in please, Cas and I love you. He sobs, all snot and incessant tears and when he finally feels ready he opens his eyes and, as land to a drifter at sea, he sees him, even though he seems to be miles away.

So Dean runs. He sees the beige form from afar and the closer he gets it shapes itself more and more like his estranged angel. Once there are mere inches between his boots and the unmoving body, Dean, like a devoted christian would before such angelic creature, drops to his knees and falls to the ground with a thump. And for a minute there finds himself too stunned to move, until he breaks out of his stupor and places Castiel’s head over his thighs, wavering hands carding through his hair with immense relief and gut-wrenching despair. With tears still falling and dripping onto his angel’s cheeks he finally speaks:

“I’m so sorry”, voice wobbly and desperate, “I’m so, so sorry, Cas”, he sniffles, drying his face in the crook of his elbow aggressively, “I didn’t even see it, I should’ve seen it - your deal - I should’ve saved you, I should’ve have done something, anything. Fuck, I’m so sorry. About everything else too. Please come back to me. I know I don’t deserve you”, he laughs, wet and bitter, “I know I fuck up everything I touch. But you- You make me better. All the shit, the bad stuff, you make it better. I need you, Cas. Please. I lo-“, God he can’t even bring himself to say it, he’s such a fucking pussy. Looking at Castiel’s lifeless face, closed eyes though it’s not peace that it entails, it’s pain, the angel is frowning and on everything Dean is, all he has, which isn’t much, he wishes he could turn back time. He wishes it was him, him that succumbed to the Nothingness. Him frowning and lifeless, not Cas.

Losing him again is something Dean could’ve never foretell and yet here he is. Cas will always be ripped away from him, regardless of God or any entity whatsoever. Regardless of what Dean needs; even seeing Cas performing the utmost selfless act a person could ever subject themselves to and now staring at his still body, Dean is pondering what he needs because he is selfish. And what he ever needed since Cas said he saved him from an endless torture in Hell, no what he needs is for Cas to stay. He needs Cas to stay by his side and never, ever leave because the thing is whether alive or dead, Cas isn’t the oxygen he breathes, in a rational level he acknowledges he doesn’t need Cas to survive. But he wants to, he wants to like the need of breathing. He loves Castiel and it pours all over him at this very moment because like his angel, he allows himself to. Because happiness isn’t in having, is in saying it. So he says it like those words could ever covey what he feels, as they could extend to the grandiosity that is his love for Castiel, as though they stretch through the Empty, further into Heaven and Hell, and engulf the whole Universe; he says it like he and Castiel are the atoms that kick-start the Universe.

He says: “I love you”

And Castiel opens his eyes

#supernatural #spn #spn spoilers #deancas #fan fiction #dean winchester #castiel

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nathalie-sancoeur-assistant · 4 years

Text

Chat Blanc

I’m finally ready to post my Chat Blanc analysis now that I’ve my thoughts sorted out. Beware, there are going to be spoilers below and probably a lot of speculation on the Agreste family (and when I say “Agreste Family” that includes Nathalie and possibly Gorilla). I’m going to be using screenshots from youtube w/ english subs.

First off we have this

This further cements the idea that I’ve said before- that Gabriel doesn’t just want to bring Emilie back, but fix something that happened. Granted the mistake they made is likely the exact thing that sent Emilie comatose, but the fact still stands that he’s not just looking to wake her up. He’s looking to change the past so that she never fell ill to begin with.

Now we have that cute scene with the girls hyping up Marinette, Nathalie denying Marinette’s present, and Ladybug busting in. Which....idk that just seems really stupid. I get it, she’s 14 but she’s also proven she has critical thinking skills. She could have waited till the next day, or outside the Agreste gates until the car came up (Adrien would have rolled down his window for her), there were other solutions but I guess Marinette hasn’t always gotten an A+ for patience. But this girl, she takes it to far and all I can do is shake my head

The only reason you get a pass for this is cause you’re still learning what’s appropriate and not.

And I don’t think I have to explain why this is sad. He just wants his dad to be even a little proud, but he never gets to see his reaction or receive the praise he needs because his dad is “busy”. Can’t even spare a solid thirty seconds for Adrien to pop his head in and say “Father I won!” “That’s great son!”

Then cut to Marinette stuffing her face in Adrien’s pillow and I just I can’t. Sigh.

And props to Adrien for being smarter than we gave him credit for. And then we get to this scene...

Where we first see Chat Blanc and you can tell....he’s clearly unstable. You can just tell, from the moment he’s on screen singing to himself that there is something off and Adrien Agreste has left the building. I think that speaks numbers about the psychological trauma he’s been through regarding what went down in this episode. They displayed it perfectly in the most gut-wrenching way. You’re already fearful for Chat/Adrien just due to how he’s acting because you can tell by that alone, akuma or no, that something went terribly awry.

And now he wants her miraculous

Not because of his dad’s influence, though the initial goal of the akuma is probably terribly overwhelming. How long has he actually been there in this wasteland by himself? It’s practically clad in white and almost looks frozen. You can tell Chat Blanc brought on all of this from the beginning (obviously) but my point is that it even has a signature mark on it by the color scheme being off. It genuinely feels like an altered version of reality, or a separate universe (which it can’t be can it? Since Chat Blanc was going to destroy the whole universe, making Bunnyx panic. Does that mean there really is only one universe? Because I feel like in a world with multiple timelines that could occur that there would be more of a multiverse. Anyway...

This poor child...

He’s being torn between two different worlds in every way. And he doesn’t deserve it. We get to see glimpses of Adrien in between Chat Blanc. THIS is Adrien asking her to save him. But then Chat Blanc is back in the next scene.

I genuinely thought that perhaps Hawkmoth had sent his akuma into Chat/Adrien’s heart. But it was more symbolically than literally. Imagine how messed up that could be, if he could akumatize someone by the heart. How would they get the akuma out then? It would be a matter of actually being able to convince the person to let the akuma go. But Chat/Adrien has had so much happen that his emotions were already so high and intense, imagine how intense it must be now? It’s literally pushed him to the brink of insanity! Thinking about it though,.insanity at this point is likely the only survival tactic he has. How else could be handle being alone, completely and utterly alone? And for how long? How long would he had to have had to mull this over from where he started out as Chat Blanc, being able to fight against the akuma even a bit so that he didn’t directly harm Ladybug/Marinette. How long would he have needed to come up with “This is Chat Blanc. Chat Blanc did this, not me, Adrien, Chat Noir- it was Chat Blanc using my hands to destroy Paris” and develop this outlook so that he didn’t just completely give up. How long has he been fighting? The torture that came with that akuma likely isn’t going to go away once he forgets it. It’s just...this poor kid. He’s trying his best.

And here I think I appreciated Marinette’s hair being down just as much as the next person but I’m kinda curious as to why? It was in pigtails just moments before so why is it suddenly down- what prompted her to take it down and just keep it down? I feel like it represents the change in the timelines. Especially since we don’t see her with pigtails again in that universe.

“I finally understand that you’re not just a friend. I always felt that there was something more...” so in other words- he loves both sides of Ladybug completely. He would love Marinette without Ladybug. He has always had this underlying affection for Marinette that is completely unlike the feelings he has for his other friends but he’s suppressing it in order to not feel unfaithful or something in regards to his feelings for Ladybug. He wants to be genuine, and now that he knows that his feelings aren’t going to cause him any kind of discourse (when it comes to Marinette VS Ladybug) he can openly express and acknowledge his feelings for Marinette and Ladybug alike.

Please appriciate that Marinette has to stand on her tiptoes because her boyfriend is a tol smol.

And THAT is why Chat Blanc wants her miraculous. He isn’t thinking straight- he’s not able to think “if I give up the akuma Ladybug can use her Lucky Charm to fix everything” because he’s still swallowed up with the akuma, the command from his father to get her miraculous. And at this point he’s to tired to resist fighting her.

Yikes, someone’s getting jealous. Also, appriciate the fact that Marinette, in that scene, literally leaps into his arms. How long have they been dating at this point? This is likely only a few days after, once enough time has gone by for word to spread.

Luka says “Adrinette rights”.

I feel like some more time has been passing between these scenes. Not a ton, but a significant amount. After all, Adrien would hardly have enough to go on an icecream date and dance with his girlfriend at a friend’s place in the same week, wouldn’t he?

“It was so amazing, until Hawkmoth found out everything”- really. They seem euphoric. And Adrien finally has something that is making him genuinely happy and helping him get through everything he’s already had to go through. Then we get hit with this...

Side note- Nathalie is tol, Sabine is smol. Back on track- what the actual- are you actually serious? Gabriel is....he’s actually doing that? Perhaps it wouldn’t be QUITE so bad if it was him simply being an over protective dad, if Marinette weren’t a well-behaved aspiring fashion designer that could benefit both him and her in the future, you know, something bad was actually going on but no...Gabriel is just making her end the relationship....for an akuma. He is bullying and forcing a 14 year old girl totally head-over-heels and love-struck with his son m, someone who is actually giving Adrien a happy place....does he not already know what it’s like to be forcibly separated from the person you hold dear? He lost his wife so now Adrien has to lose his girlfriend because “it’ll save your mother” or some ish- no! There are other ways to get powerful akumas!!! You don’t have to be so selfish as to put your own son through something similar to your own heartbreak (I mean Marinette is up and healthy and everything but it’s still forcibly removing them from each other’s grasp and selfishly taking away his son’s love interest to revive his own). You want to manufacture an akuma? Fine. Get Lila. Or target literally anyone else besides your son’s girlfriend and her family. Your son has found a way to be happy and move on without his mother being by his side every day. Either you learn how to do that too or you don’t uproot the happiness he has found to “replace” it . Because you CAN’T replace what he’s found You can add to it, if his mother really can come back without harming him or someone else he loves. But not at the expense of what he’s made for himself. That is cruel, and I genuinely thought better of you. I’m deeply disappointed. Again, if this was because Adrien’s judgement was actually questionable and Marinette had a bad record, I could understand it more. But it isn’t because hes looking out for him, it’s purely for an akuma, no regard for Adrien. And I dunno exactly how willing Nathalie was in this situation but that’s a whole other post I made a day or so ago. We can’t judge her based on the few clips we’ve seen of the future, but we can judge Gabriel because there is no good excuse for it.

She sounds so heartbroken when he tells her to break up with him too. Because she really hasn’t done anything wrong. If this is the case, then she never actually had a real chance with Adrien because his father wouldn’t have allowed it regardless of how much they liked each other. And once again he used the threat of taking him out of school, something incredibly important to Adrien, to manipulate someone who genuinely cares about him to be selfless enough to comply with him. He’s counting on other people caring about Adrien more than him to get his way. This is not only emotionally abusing Adrien, but Marinette as well. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it outside of Gabriel himself.

And this heartbreak is so different from that act when Chat rejected her. That probably adds fuel to the fire with her parent’s. They can tell from her reaction that Chat was probably just a phase she was having but with Adrien, she genuinely loves and cares for him. She just wants to be with him and make him happy. You can tell that she already knows what she’s going to do simply because of how heartbroken and hopeless her cry sounds. There is NO justifiable reason for this.

And this is part of the reason why I want to know how long they’ve been together at this point. I can see current Gabriel doing this, but if he hadn’t done what he does later on (which feels very out of character as I’ve addressed in a previous post I believe) then something else would have happened to tell him that maybe perhaps he did go to far and needs to apologize. If only he hadn’t taken it to the extent further down, this could have all been resolved. (Also, you can’t tell me that the news reporting that Gabriel made Adrien and Marinette break up after having reported about how star-struck they were wouldn’t put more damage on the company than Marinette leaping into Adrien’s arms in public...)

Nathalie and the Gorilla aren’t much help in this scenario either. I mean, think about it.

They both very obviously care about Adrien, and they have both done things for Adrien to make his life easier, help him be happy. They both seem to see him as a son to themselves as well. But they both get to see how Adrien is treated day in and day out. There are cameras all over that house, I can only assume- so there would be plenty of evidence of the neglect going down.

So...why, pray tell, have neither of them done anything? Oh Nathalie we know why, but what’s stopping the Gorilla? Don’t tell me he actually thinks that Adrien is better off in this environment? He sees what happens every day- if he’s mute, does he not know sign language? Or how to write? If he actually can’t talk then he could still write out a letter to the authorities. Is it because he doesn’t want Adrien to go into some kind of foster care system, be taken away from him, or have to go live with Felix? Tell me there’s something more going on preventing the Gorilla/Nathalie from actually taking action and doing something besides their jobs and not wanting to separate Adrien and Gabriel.

She doesn’t even question her feelings for him even after finding out he’s Chat. And she probably knows that he knows that what she just said about not loving him was bogus, but I don’t think he ever figured out why she did it.

And look at this.

Here, Nathalie looks sad, heartbroken and almost shocked, while Gabriel is harshly calling for her from the phone.

And here her expression changes, only slightly. The first one, she saw Chat Noir and Adrien as one and was shocked that he that they were one in the same, and sad likely about the fact that he was fighting against his father. This one, is the moment of realization. Her eyes got wider, that look of dread really set in. This is where she realizes that not only is he fighting against his own father, but realizing what he’s fighting against, how many times he almost got killed because of it all (outside of the times Adrien has been the direct target of an akuma) and how she herself has fought against him in hand-to-hand combat and tried to hurt him. That is a look of pure regret. It’s all in her eyes.

And even here, her eyes shift ever so slightly, and she looks like she’s not even looking at anything anymore and trying to process that she has been actively hurting Adrien in her attempt to bring his family back together. Physically.

Then when she really tells Gabriel, she doesn’t seem quite hesitant per se, but she sounds like she has to actually say it to believe it and thinks that if Gabriel knows, something might change. I doubt she actually thinks he’ll totally stop trying to get the miraculous (because we don’t know how much time has passed here and it seems he gets more and more desperate and with each passing day and less likely to quit as time goes on) but I do definitely think that her intentions with telling Gabriel this, like all others, were good. She wasn’t trying to hurt Adrien further. She was doing what she thought was best because I think that she thought that if Gabriel knew he was fighting his own son he’d question himself again, stop fighting him and actively physically hurting him, just do something other than what he actually does. She sees good in Gabriel otherwise she wouldn’t be in love with him. Heck I’m not in love with him and I saw good in him. Never in my wildest dreams did I actually suspect he would have reacted the way he did- especially with how he acted in Gorizilla! Sure in that episode he was still pretty awful, I mean who tosses their son off a building, but at least he actually seemed to care, he seemed like he’d be emotionally torn if Adrien had actually transformed- which is why I think that Gabriel isn’t necessarily entirely there anymore. I mean...look at this. Really look at it.

There is a shock factor there, for a moment it actually seems as if Gabriel might be about to reconsider...

What the frick happened

I don’t recall seeing him smile quite like that previously. His reaction is “Chat is my son? Well then I’ll take his miraculous!” and it’s nothing like what we see in Gorizilla. Something here has changed- something changed in Gabriel, the household. It just doesn’t seem right. Where is the Gabriel from before? Where are the nose holes for his mask? Why does he not have any nose holes, does he mouth-breath? Man Hawkmoth really is evil if he mouth breaths. I’m getting off topic- but this is why I want to know how long Marinette and Adrien were together before this. Something had to have happened to make him unstable didn’t it? I just can’t see how that is Gabriel. I can’t see how that would be his true reaction. Perhaps my perception of him is just severely muddled. Maybe I had more faith in him than I should have.

...wow. He really did accidentally kill them. Two people he loves, obliterated because one doesn’t know when to stop.

Now here is an interesting scene. They fell directly from above, which tells me that Hawkmoth’s lair is directly above Emilie’s coffin room. Which must then mean that his office is above both on them? How very interesting. Now- how did they know where to find Hawkmoth. Watch that entire scene, you are given no hints....

Unless we are.

Mayura/Nathalie isn’t there. It’s very out of character for her to not help Gabriel, isn’t it? How much later is this from when Hawkmoth found Chat’s identity? I’ll say a week? A few days? I can’t see how Nathalie would be able to actively fight against Ladybug and Chat Noir knowing who Chat was. Her and Gabriel definitely spoke about it if it is a day or so after. After being told he was going to continue, I don’t think she reacted very happily. She isn’t fighting against Adrien.

That being said they’re also in the Agreste house. They already ruled Gabriel out of being Hawkmoth long ago, so why would they suspect him again? What could have given it away? Sure. she’s calling him Hawkmoth, but why would she respectfully call him “Mr. Agreste” or awkwardly call him “Gabriel”? Hawkmoth is much easier considering that’s who he is. If he wasn’t willing to stop or at least tone it all down for Adrien’s sake, then he was obviously doing all this for his own selfish purposes and was never out to help his family. No good could come of it, so I think it’s just barely possible that perhaps Nathalie decided it wasn’t worth it and found some way to contact Ladybug or tell Chat Noir/Adrien where Hawkmoth could be found. If it isn’t a few days after, then Nathalie hearing how Gabriel reacted, maybe she ran out through the front doors to tell them. All I know here is that there is a time skip of undetermined length and Mayura isn’t present in this episode at all.

This look of utter delight....if Nathalie did tell them where Hawkmoth was, she obviously said nothing about him knowing Chat’s identity or why Gabriel was doing it. Perhaps she knew that would make it harder to stop him for Adrien, if he knew what was going on? She can’t predict the future- But it comes as such a shock. I do believe they know that Gabriel is Hawkmoth and who they’re fighting against in this scene simply because how could you be inside the house of a world-famous fashion designer and not recognize that while you’re going in? How would they have found him otherwise? There has been no evidence to my knowledge that would have backed up them going after him and suspecting him again to the point they actually go inside his house. Why were we not told how they found out? Was the puzzle just to long or are we supposed to continue seeing a certain character in a grey light? We were NEVER told how they found out who he is or where his lair is! He’s able to use his knowledge of who Chat is though, to shock him long enough to press the “reveal my wife” button. When he says “Dear Adrien”, Chat doesn’t ask “Father?!” he asks “How did you know?!”. then he sees his mom

He doesn’t ask if Hawkmoth is Gabriel. He makes no move to seem to try to figure out “Why does Hawkmoth have my mom in his basement”. Sure, it’d be pretty obvious to anyone but he doesn’t even hardly have time to think “If my mom is here then this must be my father”. No, he just never suspected that his mother would be so close.

“I’m doing this all for her Adrien”

And Adrien then proceeds not to ask anything about his dad. He knows that’s him. He just asks “Why” over and over. He’s in so much emotional turmoil from this alone that he almost seems to cataclysm his dad, but I don’t think he even actually had that intention.

what

WHAT

WHAT THE HECK?!

HOW IS THAT ALLOWED IN A TV-Y7 SHOW?!

deep breaths, deep breaths, calm yourself, Self.

Then the next scene, Chat is fearfully crawling away from his own father. In actual fear. Gabriel is actually completely okay with what he’s doing, justifying it by saying “this is for us” but it isn’t. Not once he’s gone that far. If you have to beat your child into submission, it’s not for their own good. I hope it never actually goes that far, but let’s continue.

What he’s saying is basically telling Adrien that he’s been fighting against bringing his own mother back, he doesn’t want to hear that him and his lady are capable, have BEEN capable, of bringing his mother back to him. This goes to prove that IF Emilie is bad, Adrien wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would put a similar psychological torture on him as this did and idk about you but I don’t think Gabenath is worth Adrien’s mental health (I still very much ship Gabenath don’t get me wrong but if Adrien is going to suffer like that to make it happen then I’m not so sure it’s worth it.). The amount of emotional manipulation in these couple of minutes is too disgusting to put into words.

“If she loved you as much as she says she’d save your mother”- does that mean he’s now also aware that Marinette is Ladybug? Seriously, what happened during this time skip?? Did Ladybug and Chat Noir start openly dating so they could still be together as heroes even if they weren’t together as civilians?

It gets to the point where the boy can’t stand it. He needs to be left alone. He needs to process everything- how is he supposed to know what’s right and wrong when he has two people he loves dearly telling him to do two very different things? Does he save his mother and join his father? Does he listen to ladybug, spare someone else the price of Emilie and follow her into their future?

The delight on Gabriel’s face as he sends his akuma into Chat is just....it’s unthinkable. How can he be enjoying this when it seemed to hurt him so much to toss him from a roof? I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense! The only way I can make any sense of it would be if Gabriel had just completely lost his mind! He feels so OOC! Something had to have happened to make him go this far. He has to be severely emotionally unwell and distanced from Adrien if he’s actually okay with this- and if he doesn’t have the critical thinking skills to think “Hey, maybe someone who’s this traumatized shouldn’t have the power of unlimited destruction. Maybe just be able to use his power multiple times.” then idk he’s a complete fool. At least this version is anyway. I can’t believe him.

This is not okay.

How can he stand there and watch his own son, in pain, struggling because he doesn’t understand what he needs to do anymore and just grin??

“Obey me!”

I’ve had my parents tell me to listen to them, to do as they say, quote the 5th commandment at me and things like that, but obey? In such a harsh tone? To obey could almost be interpreted as having to listen because they are your master. Slaves obey.

How they do the facial expressions so well...is just artful, I must admit. Even if they do tear my heart out piece by piece.

And perhaps Chat Blanc taking the blow for himself did something to damage his psyche even more than it already was. Perhaps that helped to paint the unstable Chat Blanc we’re introduced to.

“It wasn’t my fault”

That’s right baby, it wasn’t. You’re a victim of cruel circumstance. You’re completely innocent and I hope you genuinely believe that.

But seriously, Hawkmoth’s lack of understanding of what emotional turmoil can do and giving a distressed child the power of total destruction...yeah. Imagine being single-handedly the reason the entire freaking universe got wiped out.

---

What makes everything even worse is that now Marinette thinks she can’t trust Adrien with her secret. She thinks he blabbed and Chat found out her identity (still not piecing together that Chat is Adrien). That must be a rather hard potential truth to take. When in reality, he never said anything and she could trust him completely. And her erasing the signature

means the Chat Blanc Timeline never happened. Which puts everything back at square one. All that abuse...it never actually happened. It was a potential outcome of the future and it never actually occurred because it was fixed. We got to see a potential result of the identity reveal, we got to see the way Future Hawkmoth would have reacted- but what about current Gabriel? It feels like all that happened a decent way into the future, at least long enough for something to happen for Gabriel to go further down his rabbit hole. How different are the potential versions of Gabriel and the current Gabriel? I still want to hold out hope that he can change for the better. Adrien has been through enough as it is, he doesn’t need his father to hit him, emotionally manipulate and traumatize him.

This episode i feel like simultaneously showed a worst case scenario, why a reveal would be dangerous, why Adrinette probably wouldn’t happen even if Adrien liked Marinette like that, and how far things could go downhill if the reveal happened in the wrong place, at the wrong time. In this case it just absolutely obliterated the chances of Adrien having a loving family again, unless part of Gabriel’s wish erased what he had just done to Adrien. With the erasure of the Chat Blanc future, there is potential for Gabriel, I think, since Chat Blanc never happened. Since he never actually did it, I don’t know how to feel. On one hand he never did it and therefore could have potential to turn around, but on the other, that timeline showed what he could be capable of in the right situation.

I’m walking a thin line on a lonely road when it comes to Gabriel Agreste. I’m skipping rope with the line. And one last thing...

Alix is going to do something to prove herself in the future. You can tell by this scene. I wonder what it is?

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carl-grimxz · 4 years

Text

Confused Feelings- Part 4

Carl Grimes x Reader

Part 4

Summary: The group move into the farm and plan to settle in and relax for the night, but when something happens that puts them in danger, Y/N’s feelings are seriously put into perspective.

Word Count: 3,654

Warnings: Possibly near death???

A/N: Things get serious in this one guys, real talk... emotions are heightened and this was a fun one to write! I’m glad to see a few people are liking this series, I may have to carry on doing even more in the future, depending on how these next couple go!!! Enjoy :D

It was dark now which made it hard to know exactly what the farm looked like, but it seemed cool. I’m just happy that we’re gonna be relatively safe for the night. Especially with that fence up.

It was a small farm, well… it looked more like a large-ish house that happened to have a field and stables. Somehow I have a good feeling about this place though. We all walked up the steps and through the porch that appeared to run the length of the house and entered through the white painted front door.

Before long, we had lit some torches and had enough light to see more clearly. We had entered into a large living room, complete with couches, a bookshelf, an old TV that obviously wouldn’t work and other usual stuff that you’d find in a room like this. I looked around and realised most of the ground floor was open plan. An average sized kitchen right off of the living area.

“Looks pretty decent” Michonne acknowledged.

We were all exhausted and so didn’t say much before we moved straight to settling in. Very quickly, Carol had some canned food ready to eat and we were all sat around on the couches eating. Well, actually there’s too many of us to all fit on the couches so Carl, Rosita, Sasha, Glenn and I sat on the floor to eat. We didn’t mind though. The atmosphere was really relaxing.

There was quiet conversation as we ate, and I decided to see what Carl thought of this place so far. I always value his opinion.

“So…” I spoke up, nudging him “You like it here?”

He glanced at me and then back to his can to load some more tomatoes in his mouth.

“Well I mean, we’ve been here less than an hour…” He smirked

I rolled my eyes. He knew what I meant.

“…But yeah. I like it so far.” He smiled. “I get a good feeling about this place”.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Rick cut in, addressing the whole group.

“I know it’s been tough recently…” He sighed. We all felt that. “Really tough. But I’m proud of every single one of you for staying strong and pushing through. It’s hard, I get it. But I want you to know that we will make it. We’re a family. We always will be”.

Everyone was deep in thought. No doubt thinking over everything we’ve had to endure to get here. Carl turned to me and gave me a knowing smile. I returned it.

“Your dad’s right” It was near a whisper that left my mouth.

“I know”, he nodded his head in thought.

Our eyes were back on Rick.

“I think this could be the place. The one we’ve been looking for. Somewhere we can call home and not only survive… but thrive” Rick had a grin on his face. Almost getting emotional over what could be.

“It can be”, Michonne added. She always supported him, it was very sweet.

“Amen to that” Abraham cheered, lifting his glass of wine that they were pleased to find in the kitchen.

All of a sudden there was a low grumble that could be heard. It was faint, but there was no doubt on anyones minds what it could be.

Walkers.

We looked around at each other. Slight panic in our faces, we were caught off gaurd, trying to decide our next move. The mood had changed in an instant.

“That’s outside” Carol directed at Rick “Doesn’t sound that far away!”

Rick rushed to the undrawn windows and peaked outside. A faint look of fear emerged on his face.

“Oh my god” Glenn gasped, standing at another window. “There’s loads of them! Where did they come from?”

Carl and I exchanged glances. I could tell he was slightly scared and so was I. He seemed to edge closer to me, making me feel a little better. We all had our weapons drawn.

“We’re gonna have to face them head on. Can’t let them get too close”, Rick acknowledged while pacing.

He marched towards Carl and I.

“Tyreese has got Judith-“

“Dad don’t tell us to stay in here. We’re gonna help fight!” Carl looked at me for support. We’ve always wanted Rick to trust us more with this kind of thing. I nodded quickly, knowing we didn’t have much time for persuasion.

Rick looked between the both of us, reading our faces. I could tell he was trying to make up his mind.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” I answered matter of factly, while checking how many bullets I had in my gun.

Now Carl nodded.

“Ok c’mon then”

Rick led us all outside. The walkers got louder once they saw us, close to tearing down the fences.

“Stay in formation. Don’t let them get too close and use knives if you can. We don’t wanna draw any more in”, we all starting to spread out when Rick grabbed our attention again “Hey… Be careful.”

With that we all headed towards the snarling monsters. I thought I’d be a lot more afraid than I actually feel. What with what happened before. But now I’m here and it matters. I know I’ll be ok.

I looked at Carl as we strode towards them and he nodded. That was all I needed.

There were loads of them. At least thirty. This would be tough but we can manage.

I lost sight of everyone else. Even Carl. I knew they were there, fighting the fight with me. But I was focused on the task at hand.

I neared a walker and raised my arm at the ready, knife in hand. At this point I grew weary realising that the thing coming towards me was actually extremely tall. Much taller than me. It would be hard to get its head while it’s still upright, so I thought quickly. I took a slight run up and kicked its right knee cap. With a struggle it fell to the floor and began crawling at me instead, hands fighting to grab me. Without a second thought I plunged my knife in and out of it’s skull with force and it ceased all movement instantly.

I had managed to kill a good three or four when I heard gunshots and a struggle to my left. There weren’t many walkers left at this point and I thought it was going quite well. That is until I saw what the commotion was about.

At the other end of the field. There was Carl, underneath a walker.

He was struggling to keep it from sinking its teeth into his flesh. Carl had both hands holding the walker up and I couldn’t see his gun or knife. The others were busy with their own walkers and couldn’t help, but I had already made the decision.

I started running as fast as my legs could carry me, like this was the only thing that mattered. It was. I was panicking, more than I ever have before. Even above the time that it was me in Carls position. That was nothing compared to how I felt right now. If his hands slip… If he loses strength for even a split second… he’d be gone. I couldn’t bare it.

“Hang on!” I screamed at the top of my lungs

In my hurry I run straight into another walker of my own. No time for this. No time for knives. I knew Rick would judge me for using my gun but being quiet was not my highest priority. I sent a bullet straight through the walkers skull and pushed it away as it fell towards me.

I tripped slightly, either over my own feet or the walker. I fought not to fall, trying to be quick, and remained upright still trying to get to Carl as fast as I could. I should have stayed by his side. Idiot. Why did he have to be so far away?

“Hang on Carl!” I became fearful, shooting another walker that was nearing him. Nearly there.

I was so close now.

I see the walkers teeth. They sink into Carls shirt right at his neck.

“CARL!!” I screamed a gut-wrenching scream in complete and utter horror.

I wasn’t quick enough.

He still fought with the thing that had proved just too strong for him. He was bit. He must have been. I could feel myself falling apart. Legs turning to jelly as I neared him.

Carl pushed back with all his might, only making the monster more aggressive. My heart was pounding in my chest and in my throat, everywhere. It felt like it was being ripped from my body. Struggling to fight back tears, I carried on. I had to get to him.

I was there.

At great force from the speed at which I was travelling I kicked the monster off of him. Taking all of my anger out on it. Off of the boy that I now knew for sure meant more to me than anything. It rolled over unwillingly, attempting to get back up. All of the other walkers were dead now. In the corner of my eyes I could see everyone make their way over, trying to work out what was happening from behind me. I was overcome by a rage that I had never felt before.

I wasn’t going to let this thing get back up. One shot in the chest, and another and another, continually until Sasha tried to pull me back, I fought her off to send one final bullet through the centre of the beasts head. Tears were now streaming down my face.

I escaped Sashas arms, ignoring her completely. I stumbled and fell to the floor, landing beside Carl.

“It bit you!” I cried in disbelief as I pulled at his shirt collar trying to examine him as he laid there.

“No Y/N, I’m fine!” His eyes were wide grabbing at my wrists, restraining me “I’m ok! It didn’t get me! It just got my shirt” He tried desperately to calm me, out of breath himself from trying to fight the thing off.

He’s ok? He wasn’t bit.

“You’re ok?” I whimpered as if I needed him to say it again, to convince me. I was so sure that he was gone. I was truly sobbing now. Everyone was silent as they observed, and Carl had a look on his face that I had never seen before. He was shocked by my reaction.

“Yes” he exhaled, relieved, still attempting to calm me. “Yeah, I’m fine!” He sat up slightly and his arms traveled up to grip my shoulders. My eyes scanned over his body for any sign of a bite. No blood. Nothing, except a scratch across his face. He will be ok.

“Oh my-“ I spluttered, not even able to get my words out. I have never cried this hard. Ever. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breath. He was so close to being gone forever.

He pulled me into his chest hard and I clung to him for dear life, scared to let go. He held me firmly, as close to him as physically possible and my face sank into his neck.

“Carl I-“ I still struggled to get any words out while I bawled, tears soaking the flannel covering his shoulder. My chin trembled as if I was a child.

“It’s ok. I’m right here, I’m alright”. Carl spoke tenderly attempting to pacify me.

I honestly didn’t remember much of what took place next. I know we made our way inside, but it was all a bit of a blur. Something had come over me out there. When I thought I’d lost him… something in me broke. Now it was like my mind was working double time to try and fix the pieces back together again.

But now I know… It took almost losing Carl to realise.

I’m already in love with him.

All this time I’ve spent trying to suppress my feelings before they got too strong. It was pointless, because it’s too late. They already exist, and I can’t do anything about them. He never leaves my mind, he’s always there. Carl Grimes is my one steady force, my one stability in a world filled with chaos and death and darkness. I so desperately need him in my life. I can’t believe I’m only now realising it… But I’m still afraid. Too afraid.

Nobody even mentioned my outburst of emotion that took place outside. I think they found it easier on all of us to carry on as normal. Most of the group were in the living area downstairs as they talked about what to do next, with the dead walkers and the damaged fence, that kind of thing. I sensed that they were trying to give Carl and I some space after it all. I hadn’t left his side.

We were in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. There were quite a few bedrooms actually, enough to fit us all at least. Carol was seeing to the scratch on his cheek that he had obtained from the fight. They were sat on the bed, while I was in a chair in the corner of the room, watching her tend to the wound.

I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In all honesty I felt like a coward right now. At this point everyone must know how I feel about him, including Carl, but I’m sat here now too frightened to even sit with him.

“Ok”, Carol stood up still looking at Carl, “I’ve cleaned it and it’s not so bad. I don’t think you need anything on it, just leave it to heal and it’ll be fine Carl”, she smiled at him.

“Thanks” I couldn’t see his face. He had his back to me.

“No problem, I’m just glad you’re ok” Carol walked towards the door a little. “I’ll um… give you two some space… some time to talk” She looked at me now, smiling only slightly, and giving me a knowing look. Like she felt for me or something. Then she was gone, closing the door gently behind her.

Carl turned around to face me, hoping for me to say something I think. His face was expressionless, but my heart sank a little to see the scratch on his face that ran a couple of inches down from his cheek bone.

I anxiously stood up and closed the gap between us, taking a seat on the bed next to him. We exchanged looks of sadness, and my hand went up to rest on his injured cheek carefully. He looked me in the eyes while I examined the space under my fingers, being careful not to touch the actual scratch itself. I didn’t want to hurt him.

“Does it hurt?” I asked quietly as my hand went back down to my lap.

“No it’s fine. I can barely feel it” It sounded like he was trying hard to convince me, not wanting me to worry.

I nodded. “Carl I’m so glad you’re ok” my voice trembled and I could feel my whole face battling to let out more tears. I composed myself and managed to fight them back down, before they escaped.

“I know, me too” he nodded and leant over to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I looked him straight in the eyes, trying desperately to work out what he was thinking… what he was feeling. We hadn’t spoken at all since coming back inside.

“Y/N I can’t…” He sighed “We have to stop this. I can’t do it anymore” Carl sighed again and dropped his head down in his hands briefly in frustration.

“What?” I couldn’t say it.

“We both know…” He urged me to help him out but I couldn’t. I just can’t say it out loud.

I shook my head, avoiding eye contact all together.

Carl took hold of both of my hands and so I had to look at him.

“You know it, and so do I.” He was starting to sound desperate in his attempts to get me to admit to him what he clearly already knows. He put my hands down and gathered his thoughts. “There is something- I don’t know what but me and you… We aren’t just friends and you know it. I know it isn’t all just in my head”.

Carl wanted me to confess, but I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Y/N say something. Tell me you feel the same way.” He looked at me earnestly, waiting.

It broke my heart. I wish I could give in but right now my fear of the possibility of losing him somewhere along the line is greater than my hankering to be with him. It hurts but I can’t.

I picked up his left hand and gave it a tight squeeze with the both of mine. I smiled looking into his beautiful blue eyes and a couple of tears finally broke loose. “I’m sorry” I said, and I meant it.

“Carl I’m sorry… but I just… I can’t” It took everything in me to tear myself away from him but I did. I let go of his hand, stood up and left the room.

As soon as I had shut the door behind me, I stood still for a second and let out a silent sob. I had my hands to my mouth so nobody would hear, and all the tears that I had been holding in for the past few minutes came pouring out, like a dam that had burst it’s banks. I saw Sasha watching from the bottom of the stairs but I couldn’t face anyone, not even her. Not right now. I wiped away the tears and moved across the hallway to another random bedroom and shut myself inside. I wanted to be alone.

I only cried for a few more minutes before I willed myself to pull it together. I don’t usually cry much but I’ve been doing an awful lot of it today. It hurt though, wanting something so bad but not being able to allow myself to have it. Besides, being with him will only cause me more pain in the long term.

As I lay on the bed stuck in my own thoughts, I hear a door open and shut, and then footsteps going downstairs. That must be Carl. I’m glad he didn’t come after me. I wouldn’t know what else to say to him.

Around a half hour later and I heard more footsteps coming up the stairs… and then a knock at the door. I’m nervous to find out who it is.

“Y/N it’s me”

Sasha.

“Can I come in please?”

I decided maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to speak to Sasha. She’s my friend and if I’m honest, I could really use one of those right now. I get up and let her in. I immediately notice the enquiring look upon her face. There’s a hint of pity too, like she’s worried for me. She has sad eyes as she focuses on mine.

“Hey, sorry I just… I’m really tired” I don’t know why I bother, she always seems to see right through me.

“Yeah I figured” She smiled empathetically.

“Listen if you wanna be alone that’s fine, I’ll leave but… I can stay and we can talk if you want?” She’s always been so kind to me.

“Come in” I shut the door behind her and we sat together on the bed.

She spoke up, “You’ve been crying haven’t you” It wasn’t a question, she knew I had.

“You mean since out there?” I pointed behind me to the window “Yeah a little”. There was a tiny hint of sarcasm in my voice. I figured I might as well make a joke out of it, or I’ll likely start crying again. This hasn’t been an easy night.

She sighed “Wanna tell me why?” She cares about me I know but she’s always asking me questions about how I feel. It’s exhausting.

“You know why” I spoke softer with a more serious tone now.

“I don’t. I mean I’m gonna hazard a guess and say that it has something to do with Carl but that’s all I got.”

I didn’t say anything.

“He looked really upset when he came downstairs Y/N. He told everyone he was fine and that you went to sleep cause you were tired, but there’s more to it than that.” She pressed.

“You should have been a detective before, not a firefighter” I chuckled, although I didn’t actually find any of it funny. In fact it breaks my heart to know I’ve hurt him. I never wanted that. He even covered for me telling them I was tired and went to bed early. He was far too sweet for this world.

“I’m serious! Cut the bullshit and tell me what’s wrong. You’re not ok. Now tell me the truth.” Sasha sounded frustrated now. I don’t blame her honestly.

“Ok fine” I sighed. “He told me- well he hinted that he liked me… as more than a friend-“

“Well that’s great, what’s wrong with tha-”

“No it’s not. I don’t… want that”

“Y/N who are you trying to kid?!” She stood up looking in shock.

“Urghh, fine I like him Sasha, but I don’t want to like him like that. I can’t be with him in that way” I laid down, rolling over to face the wall.

I let out a sigh.

She did something I didn’t expect. Sasha leant over and kissed me on the head. “I just care about you.” She sighed too, headed for the door.

“I know. I care about you too Sasha, but I’m tired of talking about it now” I really do care about her. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight Y/N”

#carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes one shot #chandler riggs #chandler riggs imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd imagine #carl #carl grimes x reader

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

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Eleutheromania- Monsters chapter 1

Pairing: Liam x Olivia

Word count: 1,581 Warnings: character death, mentions of child abuse, knife violence, blood, Evil Liam, Evil Olivia, dark fic Summary: An expected death offers Liam and Olivia an escape from their past A/N: More evil Liam. This one is severely twisted. This is a collaboration with @sirbeepsalot, so hang onto your seats.

Series warnings: Evil Liam, Evil Olivia, child abuse, character death, abuse, knife violence, blood, unhealthy sexual situations, NSFW content to come. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let one of us know if you want on or off the taglist.

Disclaimer: We only own our OC’s, the rest we are just borrowing from PB.

Eleutheromania- (n) a great desire for or obsession with freedom

Liam didn’t shed a tear for his father the day he was placed in the cold, damp earth. Those around him thought it was simply a stoic facade, a way for the young king to stay strong in a time of grief.

Those closest to him knew the truth. There was never any love between Liam and his father. Maybe when he was a small boy he had loved his father, but he soon found it impossible to feel any love for the man he quickly learned was his father in name only.

A perfectly manicured hand slipped into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “He got what he deserved.” No sadness or love was in her cold, calm voice.

Liam clenched his fists. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Lung cancer. The words instilled more anger in him than he ever felt possible.

He never expected that one day he would be king. Ever since he became crown prince the thought that he would gain his new title due to disease never once crossed his mind. No, this isn’t how I become king.

Not this, not this time. He would take control over the years he’d been powerless to the things that happened to him. He would become king on his terms. His father didn’t get to go out after a ‘brave’ battle with cancer. He didn’t get to grow a single day older. He wouldn’t get sicker. This would be done for them. The only bit of justice they would ever get for the horrors they experienced at the hands of the man who called himself his father.

He quietly crept into Constantine’s quarters; he didn’t want to alert him yet. One thing he could be thankful for was that the disease made him sleep more, making it easier to catch him off guard.

This would be far from painless for his father.

He tightened his grip on his borrowed dagger. He knew she would be upset she missed this, but he needed to be the one to do this. She would have taken the lead. No, this was his time. It was for them both, but it would be by his hands.

A sinister smile spread upon his lips as he stood above his father. He contemplated burying the blade in his father’s side while he slept, but that would far too kind to the monster before him. Liam raised the dagger, slamming the jeweled hilt into his father’s sternum.

Constantine woke with a start, gasping in pain, his sapphire eyes wide with shock, shifting to anger and then fear as he saw his son standing above him, weapon in hand. He opened his mouth to speak.

“No!” Liam hissed. “You don’t get to plead. I pleaded with you over and over and you never stopped. Olivia pleaded and you only hit her harder. It stops now!” He plunged the dagger into his father’s side, just below the ribs, the blade angled upwards to puncture his lung. He smiled as Constantine let out a pained gasp, a wheezing sound coming with each labored breath. He pulled out the blade and plunged it back into his father’s chest with force as he twisted the blade. He held the knife steady as he watched the life fade from his father’s eyes.

He slowly pulled the dagger from the former King’s chest, his smile growing into a broad grin. He wiped the dagger clean of blood before stashing it where it wouldn’t be found. Livvy would kill me if I lost one of her daggers. He thought of all the pain he’d felt at his father’s hands as he tried to draw up an ounce of believable emotion before he pulled his father’s lifeless body into his arms. He needed this to look believable. He needed to be covered in his father’s blood.

“Father! Someone help! Guards!”

The corners of his lips twitched upwards as he heard the pounding of feet coming down the marble corridor. He gave the best performance of his life: a distraught son, coming to visit his dying father to find him murdered in his own bed. The doctor came and declared him dead. He ordered that the king’s chambers be gutted and rebuilt; any reminder of his father in the room would only add to his grief.

Unknown to them, he was talking about a different type of grief. He bit into his tongue to keep from smiling. They were finally free.

Liam shook his head, his words spitting like venom. “No Livvy, he didn’t get anywhere near what he deserved for what he did to us and you know it.”

Olivia nodded. She knew he was right; death for Constantine was a gift he didn’t deserve. While they agreed that death was far too kind for him, they also knew that he couldn’t be allowed to breathe after all he’d done to make their childhoods a living hell. They needed him gone more than they needed justice.

Justice was something they knew they’d never get. Years of abuse and terror and only two people had ever believed them. They both ended up dead. Only three people other than Constantine knew the truth behind their deaths and they would never be believed. Liam and Olivia had no other choice; they had to take matters into their own hands.

Liam took Olivia’s small hand in his. “It’s okay Livvy, I’ve got you. He won’t hurt you anymore, neither of them will.”

Olivia looked up at him with tear-filled emerald eyes. “You can’t stop him, Liam. You can’t stop either of them,” she croaked, her voice hoarse from each harsh scream he had wrenched from her lungs.

Liam looked down at the floor. He knew she was right; there was no way to stop his father from hurting either of them. They’d tried to get help countless times and they were always told that they had gruesome imaginations.

On the outside, it appeared that they had everything any child could ever want. They lived in a lavish palace in a small country located in the Mediterranean Sea. Their life should have been one that was made of dreams; instead, they lived in a nightmare. They were both on their own until they learned each other's darkest secrets. Now, they vowed they’d always have each other.

They vowed to do what they could to take control of their lives. It would be them against the world.

“Maybe we should have waited until after the social season. You know Regina will try harder to push Madeleine on you.”

Liam glanced at her, his chestnut eyes telling her more than words. “It doesn’t matter; either way they would push for Madeleine.” He squeezed her hand. “I won’t agree to it. Regina can respect my wishes as her king or we can deal with her.”

Olivia nodded her even and calm face. She would give anything to teach the Bad Egg lesson but knew she needed to wait. “Aren’t you worried about the council?”

“They won’t be easily swayed by her. I’ll play the grieving son card and they shall keep things as planned.”

“When did the Bad Egg call for the meeting?”

“Later today. Don’t worry, we will be on our way to New York by morning.”

The council sat around the large oak table to discuss moving forward in the wake of King Constantine's death. The social season had already been planned, but his death meant that Liam’s marriage and coronation needed to happen sooner than initially anticipated. Liam frowned as he picked at a scone. Of course she’d try to push the date up to be as soon as possible so I won't have time to prepare. He took a sip of coffee as debated the issue with Duke Comvallier. It doesn’t matter what the Bad Egg says, the result will remain: Madeleine will not be my queen.

“Liam needs to be engaged. That’s how it’s always been done.” Regina calmly stated. She turned her gaze to Liam, her brown eyes narrowing. “Just get it done with and propose to Madeleine. She’s the best choice for you and the country. She’s who Leo chose.”

Liam’s jaw clenched. He would not be choosing Madeleine, ever. “Father’s passing was unexpected. I’m sure the council can make an exception this once. The social season is just two weeks away and we have women coming from some of Cordonia’s finest houses.”

Duke Domvallier tapped his fingers against the smooth polished oak. “King Liam is correct.” He nodded to the former queen. “As are you, ma’am. This is highly unorthodox but unexpected events, such as the death of the reigning monarch, will cause things to never go as planned. We will continue with the social season as planned. Whoever the King chooses at the end shall be queen.”

Regina seethed. She was positive that Liam had something to do with her husband’s death but she couldn’t prove it. She would find a way to make him accept Madeleine as his queen.

Liam nodded; he would have two weeks to find someone suitable. “Thank you, Demetrius.” He allowed his stoic façade to slip, a ‘sadness’ falling over his face. “Olivia and I will be traveling to New York. It’s too difficult to be here without Father under these circumstances.”

Demetrius nodded. “Of course.”

Liam had two weeks to find the perfect queen.

Feedback fuels us, please like, comment or reblog to let us know how much you like it. We can handle the screams, so scream away.

Masterlist can be found in our bio’s.

Taglist will be reblogged.

#liam x olivia #the royal romance #the royal romance au #choices the royal romance #trr au #evil liam #evil olivia #dark!fic #monsters #eleutheromania: monsters #chapter 1 #tw character death #tw knife violence #tw blood #tw child abuse #collaberation #seriously dark and truly twisted #long post #read more

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papa-nikki-writes · 3 years

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Rowvember day 10- Belief

Definition

1. An acceptance that something exists or is true, especially one without proof.

2. Trust, faith, or confidence in (someone or something).

Summary

After getting back from the hospital turned Charnel-house, Johnny starts hearing the Saints talking. Apparently The Boss had been very, very busy while he was laid out. Wrangling with the beliefs he held before he got taken out, he decides he needs to talk to Boss herself to make sense of it.

Words: 2, 248

“So Julius was the one that blew Boss up.”

“Wasn’t he Boss’ Boss?”

“Yeah, decided to take her out.”

“Is that why she burned down the church?”

“No that was coz of Dex.”

“Dex wants to kill her now?! Who needs friends right?

Johnny stood, frozen at the top of the stairs, hand gripping the banister tight, his knuckles turning white as his head span, and Johnny didn’t know if it was from what he’d just heard or whether he was still suffering from the after-effects of being out for so long. He blinked and shook his head, heaving his bad leg into movement. Laying flat on his back had left it stiff and painful, another thing to add to his already sour mood. Shea hadn’t mentioned any of this at the hospital, was she even gonna tell him? He was the second in command, he’d have thought she’d known he’d like to be bothered with things like this.

He grimaced as he felt pain knife up both his leg and his side and he doubled over, clutching at both his newest and his oldest war wound, white spotting in his vision. It passed soon enough, and Johnny could hear the Saints speak again.

“I wonder why she let Troy live though?” one mused, and Johnny looked up, his blood boiling. She had a chance at Troy and didn’t take it? Had he wormed his way out of his mess again?

“Yeah you’d have thought she’d want rid of the chief of police-”

“Oi dickhead, do you have any idea how hard they woulda came down on us if she busted Troy Bradshaw?! Boss did the right thing.”

“Well I thought she was scared of nothing and no man.” one huffed, and Johnny’s boiling blood continued to simmer as he dragged himself down the stairs, great, now people were questioning her. Fantastic.

“Only an idiot fears nothing Josh, you should be glad, since we’re following her.”

“I was supposed to be following a badass Ryan.” Josh replied, and Johnny had him in his sights, yeah she might have let Troy go but that didn’t make her any less of the badass she was. Ryan noticed Johnny approaching them, his face turning pale as he tried to communicate to Josh to shut up. However Josh did not shut up. “Y’hear all these stories of a tough motherfucker, killed Victor fucking Rodriguez, fought for two hours after a shot to the chest, three shots to the shoulder in the siege of Prawn court and still kept comin’-?”

“I can tell you right fuckin’ now that the stories are all true, I was there.” Johnny snarled, and Josh turned in his seat and froze.

“I-I-I-” he stammered and Johnny raised an eyebrow,

“Now if you have complaints about how she’s leadin;, fine, but you tell it to her face, not do-whatever the fuck this is. Can’t criticise her lack of balls when yours seem to have shrivelled entirely.” he said, waving a hand, and Josh made to speak, his voice coming out in a squeak before he coughed.

“She let Bradshaw go.”

“And she’ll have her reasons, I just woke up and I know this,” Johnny explained as though the man was five,

“I was just talking-”

“Then talk, but my previous statement still stands- you-” he said to Ryan instead, “Where did she get to?”

“She took Pierce to help her clear out some of the last Samedi.” Ryan said, taking a drink from his beer before lowering it, “You won’t have heard man- The General’s dead, the Samedi are done.”he added, and his face split into a grin. “First gang down! Isn’t that great?!”

Yeah it was downright fantastic, one of the main lieutenants of the Ronin down along with The Samedi in a matter of weeks? Shea was really tearing the city apart.

“Someone’s been busy.” he mused, though when he had woken in the hospital, and looked across to see Shea knocked out at his bedside, he’d seen it, how tired she looked even when she ‘rested’. He wondered if she’d even slept outside of just picking somewhere to collapse.

“It’s damn good to see you back though Gat, you had us worried for a bit.”

“It’s damn good to be back.” he nodded, and he meant it-which surprised him, not one to miss out on when dirt needed doing after all but he hadn’t processed everythin just yet, and finding all this out second hand knocked him for six. Was he, Shea and E’esh the only real things in that whole fucking gang back then?

It felt real at the time, his faith in Julius was unshakeable at the beginning, but when Lin was murdered and Shea almost along with her, when he was taken by the Vice Kings and he only sent an injured Shea in against Tony Green? He began to question if the man could have it all handled when he was holed up in the Church all day. He wondered if Julius was slowly breaking under the pressure, but to be the one to blow up that boat and destroy everything they’d all been fighting for in one swoop?

He couldn’t forgive that, would never. It wasn’t all Julius’ fault, not for everything, but he certainly set the chain of events in motion that led them here, with E’esh dead and his guts threatening to spill out of his body at any moment, it was hard not to hate him.

Voices brought his attention to the top of the stairs, a group of voices laughing, Pierce, Shea and Tobias, well that was a nice surprise. They all stopped on the stairs when they realised that Johnny was stood there, Tobias’ face not breaking into any kind of emotion as he said.

“Gat! Good to see you man!” in that weird monotone voice that, as quiet as it was still carried to where he stood, and Johnny nodded in acknowledgement with a smile.

“Likewise, been keeping well?”

“Yeah,” he answered, raising his arms and stretching, “Had restless trigger fingers, you know how it is.” he said as he walked over and hugged him, clapping him on the back, his tone pointed. “Now you need anythin’, you let me and Laura know.” he said, and Johnny’s heart wrenched as he remembered Aisha wasn’t on this Earth anymore. He still refused to believe it, couldn’t believe it.

“Thanks.” he said, tone clipped, he didn’t mean for it to sound cold, but Tobias didn’t seem to take any offence from it. Tobias moved away for Pierce to come forward and grasp Johnny’s hand before clapping him on the back too, nodding in respect, and Johnny nodded back before turning to Shea.

“I need to talk to you.” he said in a low voice, and she tilted her head to one side, eyes sweeping him for a moment before she nodded.

“I thought you might.” she answered, her face and tone serious, so she knew exactly what it was about, “office is free, or we could go back to the room I put you in?”

“Whatever.” he shrugged, and Shea nodded, swallowing hard before turning to Pierce and Tobias. “I’ll be back, just gotta take care of business.”

“It’s cool Boss, we got you both.” Pierce replied, and Shea smiled slightly before turning to Johnny and beckoning him to follow her, he did so, and he found she was heading back upstairs, it was alright with him. He had to get used to moving sometime. He followed her into the room and no sooner had he sat on the bed and she had shut the door that she whirled round.

“You need to take it easy.” she said.

“I feel fine.”

“You passed out while we were being shot at and you passed out again when I got you in the helicoptor, please pace yourself, you are not at a hundred percent yet.”

“Well that makes two of us don’t it? I’ve heard about everythin’ you’ve done since I got laid out, the church Shea? Julius? Dex? Troy? The Samedi, you’ve been a one woman fuckin’ wreckin’ ball!”

“Shit.” she replied, rubbing her eyes before placing her hands on her hips, “That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up,” she shook her head and looked at him, “It should always have come from me, I’m sorry.”

Johnny sighed and shook his head, making her feel bad wasn’t his intention for this conversation.

“It’s...not your fault, it’s fully fucked my head up, fuck knows how you’re dealin’.” Johnny clutched at his head and shook again, like his brain was an etcher-sketch he had to clear, and she shrugged.

“I drank a lot and shot a lot more people.” she said, so plainly Johnny chuckled despite himself, despite the subject matter.

“Ay, we sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t we?” he said, and Shea, again smiled a small smile.

“I really thought we did something back then.” she said, wistful as she stepped forwards and sat next to him, hands clasped in her lap as she stared at the walls, and he reached behind her and rubbed her back before folding his arms, sighing.

“Me too.”

“And I thought you’d be mad.” she said, looking round at him, and he raised an eyebrow. At first, on hearing that Troy got away, yeah he was mad, but now that he was sat here, saw her face to face, he couldn’t be. He’d lost one of his girls, he wasn’t going to spend his time being mad at the other when she was trying her best.

“I’m not mad at you.” he replied, shaking his head, “you had to go out and handle business, and you did. Can’t expect more of you than that.”

“Thanks man.” she smiled, then promptly looked down at the floor, smiling, and he found it both endearing and hilarious that she she still looked for his approval, in his mind she had surpassed the need for it years ago.

“So uh-why did you burn the church down?” he asked, and her head shot up.

“To piss off and keep Ultor busy of course.” she smirked, before her face fell and she leaned forward on her lap, “we need some room to breathe and we can’t do that with Ultor on our arse.”

“So the Samedi-”

“Got absolutely fucking annihilated.” she replied, “if I was playing before, I’m not now. Too much is at stake and we lost too much already,” she shook her head, “I can’t do it. I can’t fuck about.”

“But then what about Troy? Why’d you let him go if you’re not fucking around?”

“Troy?” she asked with a sigh, “cards on the table Johnny I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t. I heard the wiretaps, he didn’t know about the boat-and he kept me alive when everyone was telling him to pull the plug. He’s a liar but I honestly don’t think he’s an enemy.” she explained, and Johnny felt annoyance burn at the pit of his stomach, he didn’t agree with that particular decision, but he could respect it.

“Fine. If you vouch for him? Fine.” he said, and she leaned back, narrowing her eyes.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t be followin’ you if I didn’t think your judgement was sound.” he said, and her eyes narrowed even further, “What?” he asked, “If it goes south, you’ll deal with it, I know you will.” he shrugged, and she nodded once.

“You bet.”

“Then I ain’t worried.” he replied, and that was that. She smiled and tapped him once on the shoulder as she got to her feet, crossing the room to the door, before she bit her lip, looking around at the walls before she took her hand off the door handle.

“I uh, took everything not nailed down from the house and put it in storage, when you feel up to it we can sort through what you want.” she said, and the change in his face must have registered, as she looked down at her feet, “I’m sorry if I was overstepping, I just didn’t want you to worry about anything when you should be healing.”

There it was, the sinking feeling, the blood chilled in his veins as he once again had to be reminded that this was really, really it.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” he said, again hearing himself angrier than he’d meant, “you’re right. I don’t think I ever wanna go back there.” he added, and she nodded.

“If you need me, I’m about here 24/7 right now, I’m getting my new penthouse renovated in The Row and it’s gonna take a few months so-” she shrugged, “-just give me a shout.”

He nodded and she left, and he was both grateful and anxious. He wanted to be on his own for a bit, to sort through...everything but his brain was telling him to keep everyone in sight at all times, it was stupid really, Boss was the toughest he’d known and Purgatory was safe. But still his mind kept asking what ifs and playing out the fight with Jyunichi in different horrifying ways, kept making him imagine the Ronin storming Purgatory and slaughtering everyone, and him with his side couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was maddening what his own brain was torturing him with. All he had now was the Saints, and nothing and nobody was gonna take that from him.

#Saints Row #rowvember2020 #Johnny Gat #slight Bossgat if you squint #nothing romantic in here they would just literally do anything for eachother and I love that #platonic or romantic they just work

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