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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 3 years

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Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

#omg #I don't even know if this makes sense #this took way too long to write #j2 #cockles #long post #spn family #so glad you see you back again my dear #welcome to hell #it's hotter now

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whythinktoomuch · 3 years

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attempt #37

This was the 52nd formula that Lena had come up with, the 45th solution that she had to wait several hours to synthesize, but only the 37th time she was injecting her shoulder with the resulting concoction.

It was bright green this time, which only made it seem all the more promising.

There’s a rush and some mild nausea that Lena had come to expect with the experiments, but everything else felt the same. For now. Setting the syringe aside, Lena called out, “Hope, think of a number between one and a million.”

Then, for the 37th time, Lena tried. She cleared her own mind, practiced the meditative mantras, stared intently into Eve’s eyes, bright blue yet blank with Hope’s quiet disinterest, and... nothing. Not a single digit came to mind.

No matter how hard Lena tried, the only thoughts in her head were her own.

With an exasperated sigh, Lena rolled her sleeve back down and directed Hope to log their latest attempt as yet another failure before storming off to start her day.

Lena emerged from the laboratory with wrinkled clothes and dark circles sunken around her eyes, which was probably why the first thing she heard as she stepped out of the elevator was her personal assistant’s hushed commentary of, Oh sweet Jesus, she looks tired.

“Oh, I’m well aware, Hector,” Lena said, lofty and without much malice. “Nothing a little coffee can’t fix though.”

Hector stared at her blankly. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor?”

“Never mind,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. She took the outstretched coffee in question as she walked by the assistant’s desk. “Just hold all my calls until the afternoon, please.”

This time, when Hector grumbled under his breath about wow, she must be grumpy too, Lena ignored it. There were better things for the CEO to tackle, after all; as for example, some fitful sleep on her couch, perhaps?

Hours later, Lena was relatively well-rested, so she pored over her notes again, trying to pinpoint the exact variable she must have overlooked in her carelessness. Because by all accounts, the formula should have worked—Lena had been certain of it. But then again, she’d admittedly thought that of almost every attempt thus far.

When Hector walked into her office at some point in the late afternoon with a handful of contracts to be signed, Lena felt no closer to the solution and a slight headache coming on.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Another coffee would be great,” Lena said, as she sifted through the documents.

“Oh my God, if she takes in any more caffeine, her heart’s going to literally explode...” Hector muttered to himself. “Well, maybe she won’t notice if I get her decaf instead...?”

Lena dropped the papers onto her desk with a scoff. “You know I can hear you, right?”

Hector appeared startled, which seemed rather appropriate until he slowly said, “So... was that a yes on the espresso?”

“What?”

Hector maintained his slow cadence, carefully enunciating every syllable as if he were repeating himself, “Did you want to stick with your usual order... or maybe go with an espresso... because it’s a little stronger?”

But in a normal cadence, also in Hector’s voice and somehow clear as a bell in Lena’s head came, “If this woman doesn’t get another nap in pronto, she is going to drop dead, and everyone’s going to think I poisoned her coffee, because she’s always in—”

Absolutely stunned, Lena continued to stare up at Hector in silence, eyes narrowing as the assistant’s slightly panicked voice droned on and on in her head. Until a louder remark broke through the reverie.

“Whoa, did she just fall asleep with her eyes open?”

Lena blinked quite obviously, and her mild shock was accompanied with a loud and clear, yet unspoken Oh, thank God! from Hector.

But the Hector standing before her hadn’t moved his lips once, only watching the bewilderment play out on Lena’s face with some polite concern.

“The usual’s fine,” Lena interjected before her assistant could press again. “Or the espresso, or whatever. I don’t care, as long as it’s still hot and caffeinated.”

“You got it,” Hector said.

“Definitely getting her decaf,” Hector thought as he turned to leave, but Lena hardly minded. She was too busy restructuring the rest of her day around this most exciting realization.

After some quick bit of arithmetic in her head, Lena set a timer on her watch for five hours, which was presumably the amount of time it would take for her body to break down the serum and render it useless. Then she logged on to her private interface and happily directed Hope to re-record attempt #37 as a success.

The ability to read minds was, quite simply, quite the advantage.

Though it wasn’t so much “mind-reading,” as mind-receiving. The serum seemed to have granted Lena access to the loud and active thought processes of everyone around her—their inner monologue, if you will, everything put into words but left unsaid.

Lena had been hoping for more, to be able to break into other people’s minds so as to hack secrets, determine why supposed close friends would ever betray her, and the like. Maybe that would come with time and practice.

But as it turned out, there was rather plenty to be gleaned from the forefront of someone’s mind, as people often thought about the things they weren’t supposed to say before choosing more palatable means of expression. Which made the rest of Lena’s workday somewhat informative, if not a little fun.

For one thing, Lena found out that a lot more of her employees enjoyed working for her than she had thought. All of them respected her, several feared her, and quite a fair few entertained invasive thoughts about her décolletage before swiftly directing their attention elsewhere.

She also found out there was one board member in particular who liked to fudge the numbers during meetings, and that his face took on a very unappealing shade of off-white when Lena could inexplicably confront him with the actual results of his findings.

But most importantly of all, what Lena found out was that... she actually enjoyed this heretofore inaccessible sense of control this ability afforded her. She had taken on the experiments for a very specific purpose, but now, it was difficult to even imagine going back to how things were, even after the fact.

Lena walked into the DEO, and for the first time, the outpouring of distrust attached to the Luthor name was all but imagined. The disparaging thoughts followed her, even as the people who had them smiled or averted their eyes as she passed.

Nothing she wasn’t used to though.

Alex’s voice slid into Lena’s head in a whisper—... the hell?—one whole minute before she actually greeted her, “Lena, hey... Well, can’t say that I was expecting you.”

“Yes, that’s what it sounds like,” Lena mused, and Alex gave her a slight frown.

“So, did you need something?”

“Where’s Kara? I want to talk to her.”

Alex’s carefully composed face betrayed no emotion, but her thoughts sighed heavily, “Of course...” before ebbing away into something entirely indistinct and indecipherable.

Lena blinked. She hadn’t encountered anyone whose thoughts weren’t immediately accessible to her before. But here Alex was, giving directions to Kara’s current whereabouts, all the while muttering some underlying commentary in tones so hushed that Lena couldn’t quite make out any of it.

“... Is there something on my face?” Alex swiped her sleeve across her forehead. “What are you looking at?”

“What? No, nothing,” Lena said brusquely. “Thank you for telling me where Kara is. Bye.” She turned on her heel, headed for the hallway that would eventually lead to the training room.

“Well, that was weird...” Alex’s voice drifted after her, a literal afterthought. “But I mean, I guess she has a nice ass, so—”

Lena shot a dirty look over her shoulder, but Alex was already back on her computer, mind rattling off coordinates and running through tactical drills like a well-oiled machine.

Kara was wearing short shorts and a sports bra, panting, and absolutely drenched in sweat when Lena stepped foot into the training room. She looked over at Lena, her skin glistening against the dimmed green of the kryptonite-lined walls, and smiled wide.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?” Kara asked, giving the punching bag one last jab before tugging her gloves off. "Did something happen or...? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” She flashed Lena another bright grin before pressing a towel to her face and neck and chest.

It was enough to stop Lena in her tracks, and almost enough to put a damper on her plans. Almost.

“I need to talk to you,” Lena said evenly, eyes glued firmly to Kara’s forehead.

“Yeah, sure! Jeez... I’d give you a hug, but I’m like sweating in places I didn’t even know existed. Alex says that this is the only way to learn proper form and all, but wow. I can’t believe there are humans who actually do this for fun—”

“Kara,” Lena cut in, lips pursing in exasperation. “I’m serious. We need to talk right now.”

Kara blinked, then slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, let’s talk... You wanna sit down?”

“I prefer to be standing.”

“Okay.” Kara remained standing as well, towel now crumpled in her hands. “So, what’s going on?”

Lena took a deep breath, quickly running through the meditative techniques meant to keep her mind clear and open, then asked, “Why did it take you so long to tell me that you’re Supergirl?”

Kara’s shoulders slumped. “Lena, I...”

“No, why did it take three years? Why didn’t you trust me?” Lena continued, her pace steady and firm just like she had practiced. “I trusted you. I trusted you with every part of me, which is extremely difficult for me to do, and you just... didn’t care, I guess.”

“Of course, I care. Lena... I never meant to hurt you,” Kara said insistently. Her voice was loud, emphatic, and at the moment, the only thing Lena could hear.

“Don’t!” Lena snapped when Kara started to approach her. “Don’t come any closer. And stop talking! Just listen.”

Kara exhaled sharply through her nose and raised her hands in tentative surrender in absolute, utter silence. Lena even paused for a beat or two, just to see if any of Kara’s thoughts would breach the surface, but none did.

“Why couldn’t you just trust me, Kara?” Lena asked, and regrettably her voice trembled on the last syllable. “Why did I have to hear it from Lex?”

Kara’s eyes widened. “Lex? Lex told you before I did?”

“Shut up. Do not talk,” Lena hissed out, waiting for Kara to snap her jaw shut before continuing with a bitter laugh, “Do you, do you even trust me now...?” Kara stared, gaze hardening. “And how do you expect me to trust anything you have to say for yourself now?”

Lena’s questions—all of the above and beyond—were met with silence, strained only by the sound of Kara’s heavy breath and Lena’s own thoughts.

Scoffing, Lena threw up her hands. “Do you even care that you hurt me?”

“... Can I talk now?” Kara demanded, seething like she had any right to it. But when Lena shook her head furiously, she held her tongue and apparently everything else as well, because Lena couldn’t hear a single damn thing.

When the alarm on her watch went off, Lena left, slamming the door on her way out. She contacted Hope through their private channel and had her re-log attempt #37 as just another failure.

Back to the fucking drawing board.

(next part here)

#who's ready for attempt 38 n' 39?#and did i honestly start another ficlet series when i already have so many ongoing?#WACK!#also wtf; why is this 2k words...?#my words.

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salemorbit · 3 years

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Do-Over

[Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro Hero!Reader]

warnings: angst y'all i'm feeling angsty; ends with fluff hehe; it's a LONG one boys!!

~~~~~~~

in which you and bakugou hit a speed bump in your relationship

~~~~~~~

You dropped your keys on the table next to your door, slamming it shut with a sigh. You grimaced as you turned awkwardly to strip off your jacket, your shoulder twinging with pain from a minor injury during your recent scuffle.

The apartment was dark, not a soul around to greet you or wait up for you at such an hour. And that was fine, that was how you lived. But deep down inside, at this moment, you felt a pang in your chest that took the shape of a specific blond haired fireball.

Slipping your phone out of your back pocket, you unlocked it and let your thumb glide instinctively to the contact that you talked to the most. You pressed the call button and held the phone to your ear, slipping off your shoes gratefully.

It went to voicemail. Not even his mailbox was set up, just the automated number played in your ear. You let the robotic voice run through its mantra before leaving a message at the tone.

"Hey, it's me. I just got home. I...just wanted to make sure you were okay." You fiddled with your belt. "Call me when you get this."

You clicked end and slid your phone on the counter, leaving it be while you undressed from your work clothes. You cradled your whining shoulder as you slid off your shirt and tossed it aside, mentally making a note to do laundry later.

The past few days at your hero agency had been hard. There were so many hoodlums and villains clogging up your to-do list that you barely had time to call your boyfriend and make sure he was doing all right. It was radio silence from him nearly all week.

But you two had been busy. For some reason, this week was the one time that every baddie wanted to cause chaos. Or at least it felt like it. You slumped down on your dingy couch and stared at the ceiling. Hero work was exhausting, and you didn't even know if it paid off in the long run.

And just a few hours ago you were dealing with a messy explosion of villainy in the middle of your district. It was hard to keep the destruction in check, and you had gotten minorly injured in the process. Your sore shoulder was a scar to boot.

Katsuki had been there, in fact a few of his co-workers had been, too. But he didn't pay you any special attention. You didn't know if that bothered you or not.

Yes, you were both on the job and vowed not to let your relationship get in the way of your hero work as much as possible. On the other hand, you hadn't seen or spoken to Katsuki in a whole week, and the first time you had and he didn't even nod a greeting. What was his issue? It wasn't like you had gotten into an argument or anything.

Shuddering out of thought, you heard your phone buzz once on the counter. You got up and checked it, half expecting it to just be a junk mail message. You were surprised to see that it was a message from Katsuki himself.

I'm home. Goodnight.

You frowned. That was it? You called and left a message, he hadn't spoken to you all week, and all he sent was a three word text?

You didn't know what overcame you, but the frustration inside bubbled up and spilled over in an instant. You turned and activated your quirk out of pure adrenaline, chucking your phone across the room and sending it straight through the apartment wall and soaring into the street below.

That calmed you down quickly. You ran over to your window and threw up the sash, looking down and around for your shattered piece of a phone. But it was gone. You sighed heavily and shut the window, storming into your bedroom and falling into your sheets with a huff.

Now you needed a new phone and, quite possibly, a new boyfriend.

•••

The next day you were off of work, so you took a pain reliever for your shoulder and headed to the nearest phone store to get a new phone. After awkwardly explaining the situation to the clerk, you received a new model and decided to pay a visit to the one man who had gotten you so riled up in the first place.

Katsuki would've been lying if he said he wasn't relieved to see you on the other side of his door that afternoon. He'd had a tiring week, and honestly all he wanted to do was spend time with you and recharge for the most part before doing it all over again.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was the frown on your face and the angry tapping of your foot as you stood in his doorway.

"You seem unbothered," you said shortly. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows and let himself get shoved aside as you bustled into his apartment.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" Katsuki muttered as he shut the door. You grit your teeth and crossed your arms, obviously unhappy, though Katsuki couldn't figure out why.

"Go look in the mirror and take a guess," you glowered. "What's your issue? Why haven't you returned any of my messages this week?"

"I've been busy, you know that," Katsuki crossed his arms as well, not allowing you to have an intimidation factor in this conversation. "This week was hell."

"It was busy for me, too, but I still made the time."

"What are you going on about, dunceface?"

"Your inability to communicate!" You threw your hands in the air. "I've been trying to check in on you this week, but you haven't responded, if at all. And you didn't call me back last night! Just a text? One? I wanted to make sure you were okay after that fight, and you didn't even humor me."

"So? I'm fine."

"I didn't know that," you stressed. Katsuki let out a breath, still not getting it, and this made you even more angry.

"I don't know where this sudden clinginess is coming from-"

"It's not being clingy!" You erupted. "Are you so dense that you haven't realized how checked-out you've been recently? I've given you multiple opportunities to pick up the slack. I've excused your behaviours, given you space, and respected your silence this entire time. You haven't given me anything to work with. It's called being concerned and trying to keep our relationship going, which you don't seem the least bit interested in doing."

"And what if I'm not?" Katsuki growled, just plain upset you were accusing him of things he wasn't doing, at least in his mind. "What would you do if I didn't want to keep this schtick up, huh?"

"Then I'd be wasting my time standing here," you snapped. "And I'd have wasted the last two years on you."

Katsuki felt something in his chest cry, shattering and splitting through the floor below his feet. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, trying his best not to set his living room on fire.

You were there. You were right there, somewhere you hadn't been for the last week. And yeah, he'll admit that maybe he's been a bit distant lately, and the sudden influx in hero-work definitely wasn't helping the situation either. But he was trying to deal with things he hadn't quite felt before, one of those things being his feelings for you.

As of recent, something had shifted in his gut. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and it wasn't like he was going to consult Kirishima or Kaminari about this. God knows they'd just make fun of him for worrying about your relationship.

Did he feel ashamed? Was it embarrassing him that he felt like this for someone? Katsuki Bakugou didn't get embarrassed, so what was this?

"I think we're done here," you muttered, looking down to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. You slid around Katsuki to reach the door, but you were stopped by Katsuki grabbing your arm gently.

You jerked your arm from his grasp, turning to look at him with your chin held high, keeping your trembling lip from showing itself. Katsuki had something in his eyes that had never been there before, and you hated it. You hated that you couldn't read him anymore.

"I don't know you like I thought I did, Bakugou." He flinched at that one. "This was obviously a mistake. I'll see you around."

And you were out the door and out of his range, leaving Katsuki Bakugou to stand in his living room at a loss for words. Something he hadn't been ever since he first met you.

•••

You took the breakup terribly, to say the least.

Yes, you were technically the one who broke it off, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to do it. You didn't want to shut things down like that, but Katsuki had left you no choice. He wasn't getting it, and it felt like he was going to continue to not get it. You just couldn't spend your energy like that anymore.

Mina and Momo were there for you from the second you broke down at a bus stop and called them to pick you up. They were there in a split second, not pressuring you for information until you wanted to tell them.

They were more disappointed in Katsuki than mad. They didn't like how he hadn't been communicating things with you about how he felt or why he had been distant. You broke and told them how it had been going on like this for almost a month now, and this last week was just the tipping point. They backed your decision and got you anything you needed for the next few days, until you were able to be on your own and process the emotions you felt.

Katsuki hadn't tried to call you at all. No texts, emails, voicemails. Your phone was a dry desert, except for the concerned text Midoriya sent you after you assumed Mina and Momo had told him about the debacle. He offered to talk to Katsuki about it, but you declined. It was best to just let it be, let it sink in that Katsuki had messed up royally.

Meanwhile, the man in question was quiet for the next few days. His coworkers noticed his lack of remarks, his friends noticed his distant appearances. All Katuski had been doing since you walked out that door was think. He was thinking long and hard about what he wanted, where you fit into his life, and the way he had acted as of recent. This was quite possibly the most Katsuki had ever thought about anything; typically he was so sure on the get-go that he needn't time to stop and reflect.

But this was different. You were different.

It wasn't until the next Saturday after your breakup that Katsuki found himself on the other side of your apartment door, hand poised to knock. He decided he didn't want to do something like this over the phone; it was just too impersonal. So he mustered up the courage to face you again, and prayed you wouldn't throw him out of your four-story high window in the process.

He knocked, waited. No answer. Getting slightly annoyed, he knocked again, louder. Still no answer.

Katuski was now incredibly annoyed, and bent down to take the key from under your doormat and just unlock the damn thing himself. As he lifted the mat, he saw a slip of paper taped to the floor where the key should've been:

Don't try to break in. Calling the police is not below me.

Katsuki huffed, standing up and going to knock on the door again when he was interrupted by the rustling of paper bags. He turned over his shoulder and saw you standing on the opposite end of the hallway, holding some grocery bags in your arms and staring right at the blond standing on your doormat.

There was a tense few moments of silence before you broke it, audibly frustrated.

"Can you get out of the way so I can put these inside?" You frowned. Katsuki blinked, then moved aside to let you fumble your key in the lock dumbly.

"I can-"

"Shut up," was all you said before opening the door and letting it bang against the inside wall. Katuski stood on the threshold, unsure of if he should just walk in or not, before inviting himself in as soon as he figured you wouldn't give him the time of day. He watched from your counter as you passive aggressively slammed things on the counter or into their place in your kitchen.

"Care telling me why you're here?" You asked, flat-toned and not looking at Katsuki in the slightest.

"I wanted to talk."

"About?"

He rolled his eyes. "Us, dimwit."

You stopped and let your head hang, propping yourself on the counter with your hands spread flat. You still didn't look up at him, which was greatly pissing him off.

"We already did. Last week," you said.

"That wasn't a conversation," Katsuki ground out. "That was you coming to me and exploding out of nowhere. I didn't even have the chance to-"

"It wasn't out of nowhere," you interjected.

"Stop interrupting me, damn it, and just let me talk!" Katsuki spat. You looked up at him with a withered look, making his fire simmer down immediately.

"Fine," you said, voice wavering slightly. Katsuki cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" He smiled slightly, bittersweet. You didn't react, so he went on.

"You're an idiot because you've got terrible tunnel vision," he said, glancing at the living room that looked like you had been sleeping in. You had a perfectly tangible bed in the next room, but there were just too many memories in there for you to spend the night in again.

"I can see fine," you grumbled.

"No, you can't," Katsuki looked back at you. "You haven't been able to see how hard I've been trying these last few weeks to figure things out. Figure us out."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to know that if you don't tell me anything?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from rising. The last thing you needed was a fight. You were just too tired.

"That's...something I need to work on," Katsuki muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "And I will admit that. Don't make fun of me for it."

"I never said I would."

"Great, because I gotta whole lotta other things to admit to." His eyes narrowed. "I don't wanna hear shit from you for the next five minutes, got it?"

You sighed, miming zipping your mouth shut as you went back to putting away your groceries. You might as well let him talk, since you knew his stubbornness wouldn't let him leave your kitchen so soon without him getting in his two cents.

"I've been thinking long and hard lately," he began. "On my own. Nothin' from anyone else except my own thoughts. So this is one hundred percent me.

"I screwed up. I did. And it took me a minute to realize it because I was so much in my head about things. I was so focused on trying not to mess us up that I went and did that shit anyway. And all you've been is supportive and caring, and quite honestly I don't know how to handle that since I haven't really been with anyone like that."

He was being honest, you knew from his tone of voice. It was a tone you had heard only a few times before this moment: when he told you he loved you. And you believed it.

Katsuki took in a breath: "So I'm here. And I'm sorry. At first I was mad at you for marchin' into my house the other day and spewing things I knew nothing about, but then I realized that you were spewing those things because you knew nothing about me and where I was at. And that was frustrating for you because you got that whole communication thing you like to do, or whatever."

"Or whatever," you mumbled to yourself, smiling slightly. He picked up on that, his spirits lifting a bit as well.

"I've just been thinking about things and where you are and who I want you to be to me as we live our lives. And I screwed it up by not talking to you about that either. It's a conversation we both should have. So," he sighed, "I'm sorry. And I'll continue to be sorry because you don't deserve to be left in the dark. I love you, and I want to be better."

He finished his little speech and the two of you were quiet. You had paused putting things away about halfway through, really listening to him and what he had to say. He deserved that from you in the least.

You looked up at him and saw that he had already been staring at you, an intent look in his eyes. It was your turn now. He wanted a response to his being vulnerable. You knew it wasn't easy for him to open up like that, despite the last two years of helping him get comfortable, so you didn't torture him with the suspense.

"We'll see," you said. Katsuki did a double take, eyebrows furrowing.

"We'll see?" He repeated. You nodded rounding your counter to stand in front of him.

"If we want to keep doing this for however many more years we keep doing this," the corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk, "then we'll just have to see."

"Great," Katsuki rolled his eyes and sent a seething glare out the window. "I totally lay myself on the train tracks and you just run me over like that. Thanks."

"But," you continued, trying to catch his eye, "I appreciate you coming to me. And I appreciate the apology. However, I won't know if I can accept it until I know you'll actually go through with it."

"Understandable," Katsuki sighed, comprehending this. "I deserve that one."

"Are you ready for a do-over?" You asked, catching his hands in yours. He couldn't help but notice a weight in his chest lift at the presence of your touch after weeks of barely anything. Katsuki still had some work to do, but it was worth it if he could keep you around.

"Always," he kissed you on the forehead and you smiled giddily.

"Awesome because we now have two weekends of cuddle-time to make up for, and my bedroom hasn't been used in a week," you led him to your door.

"Oh no," Katsuki complained sarcastically, "however will we make up for such lost time?"

"Shut up, you big doofus," you grinned. "You know you love me."

"That I do."

~~~~~~~

a teensy tiny bit of OOC bakugou near the end there but like. he'd be a sucker for that and totally willing if it was just the two of you around HAHA

anyways this was cute and i....am forever still in love w bakugou :))))

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

Text

Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone.

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself.

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours.

He almost laughed at himself.

The Creed was all he had.

Until…. Until the kid had come along.

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed.

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones.

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window.

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable.

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety.

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that.

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it.

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services.

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family.

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues.

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship.

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her.

A survivor’s look.

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore.

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired.

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan.

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park.

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you.

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him.

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him.

But… this felt.. different.

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took.

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you.

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up. He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs.

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like.

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there.

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained.

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle.

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step.

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away.

Help her.

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve.

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere.

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all.

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs.

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for.

He was hunter. You were prey.

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit.

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone.

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped.

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship.

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon.

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning.

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours.

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two.

That’s the way it was meant to happen.

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up.

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it.

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more.

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name.

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said.

And that’s when it went wrong.

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence.

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts.

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body.

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower.

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep.

He left himself open to attack.

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you.

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu.

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you.

Beautiful.

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant.

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head.

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you.

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you.

And that was his second fuck up of the night.

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you.

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him.

He couldn’t save you.

He was going to watch you die defending him.

Just like his parents.

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips.

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest.

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh.

An opening, that’s all he had to do.

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back.

You took your opening.

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck.

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars.

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to.

This was it then.

The way he would go.

Nothing noble, or heroic.

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough.

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that.

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek.

No. No.

What were you doing??

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run.

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant.

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun.

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle.

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him.

Gazing right into his eyes.

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go.

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something.

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish.

He put his life in your hands.

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children.

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into.

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them.

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes.

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara.

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself.

They were the options.

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes.

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you.

Only it was too late.

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could.

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the force #star wars #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years

Text

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

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suganovakawa · 4 years

Note

i hope requests are still open, if not, you can just ignore this since u may be busy. i LOVE your s'mores headcanons with the karasuno boys, it's ! so ! cute ! may i request protective! captain as dads ( you could pick anyone you're comfortable with writing! ) and their only daughter started liking a boy ( bonus if it's the son of their old/current teamates if they played professional. ) thank you again if u ever decided to do this 💙

i’m slowly going to be going through requests again but THIS IS SO CUTE IM DYING PLS

this request is so old i know , i’m sorry for the wait anonnie pls forgive me fjjsnfmd

a loving father.

— kuroo, daichi, ushijima, oikawa, and bokuto’s only daughter ( separately ) falls for a boy.

gen masterlist.

taglist ( open ) ༉‧ @yams046 @janellion @avylee

— a/n : new layout! figured i’d try it, i always thought my previous layout was too tedious and spaced out, this new one is something more simple. enjoy!

— also, this is fem!reader!

tetsurou kuroo.

✧｡ the first time he hears of his babygirl catching the feels™ for someone, immediately he goes into protective dad mode

✧｡ in the past he had always joked about him being the only man his daughter needed in her life, and daddy’s little girl would always comply because kuroo def is one of the best dads around, don’t @ me

✧｡ but boy oh boy he’s ready to wage war once he hears about this boy, and he doesn’t even know who the guy is

✧｡ he wasn’t supposed to hear about his daughter’s crush, you and your daughter were having some girl talk, and you actually had to pry it out of her system or else she would’ve just kept it secret

✧｡ he was 100% eavesdropping on the two of you, he always feels so left out when it’s girl talk time— he’s tried convincing the both of you to let him in on the girl time, but all of his attempts have failed

✧｡ both you and your daughter hear a “WHAT?!?” from outside your bedroom door, and the two of you run out to see kuroo literally pressed against the door with a scowl on his face

✧｡ oh boy, your daughter’s really gonna get it now

✧｡ “tetsurou! you know better than to eavesdrop on us like that! you know that girl time is for us only! no boys allowed!” ofc, if y’all want a son...

✧｡ JDJDJFJFJ HE’S IN HYSTERICS

✧｡ we love a good drama queen, he’s sprawled on the floor, pretending to sob in his hands as your daughter is trying ( and failing ) to hide her embarrassment that her dad happened to listen in on what she wanted to keep secret

✧｡ “noooo our babygirl is growing up too quickly! what happened to me being the only man in her life, huh? she’s leaving the nest too quickly, stay with meeeee! be my little princess forever!”

✧｡ proceeds to become the embodiment of 🥺

✧｡ “dad, it’s just a crush...”

✧｡ “i had a crush on your mother back in the day, look at how we are now!”

✧｡ “tetsurou...”

✧｡ kuroo looks to you and takes you by your shoulders, his lip quivering as he points to your guys’ child “how are you so calm about this? this is our daughter we’re talking about here! take me a little more seriously, y/n!”

✧｡ you’re cracking up at the sight of kuroo, wiping tears from your eyes as you cross your arms, an evil glint shining in those eyes of yours

✧｡ “you’ll never guess who she does have a crush on, sweetheart.”

✧｡ “what?”

✧｡ your daughter is trying oh so hard to give you a signal of no no no no no no no no no mom please spare me but you’re just ignoring it, “go on, sweetie. tell your father who this special boy of yours is.”

✧｡ “... lev’s son...”

✧｡ RIP tetsurou kuroo, gone too soon.

daichi sawamura.

✧｡ now, daichi takes the news far better than how kuroo does, but you can tell he’s just a wee bit protective

✧｡ you can see it in the way he scrunches his nose every time your daughter brings up this boy— it’s subtle, but definitely noticeable

✧｡ he finds about his daughter’s crush while he picks her up from school, he spots her chatting up a storm with a classmate of hers

✧｡ “is that a friend of yours, sweetheart?” she’s in high spirits as daichi takes her home, which he’s happy with. he wants nothing more than to see his little bundle of joy happy as can be

✧｡ “silly daddy! that’s my boyfriend! he asked me out today while we were both at the swings, and i said yes!”

✧｡ JDJSJJF HE ALMOST SWERVED THE CAR BUT CAUGHT HIMSELF JUST IN TIME, KEEP DRIVING MR. SAWAMURA YOURE ALMOST HOME

✧｡ “b-boyfriend, you say?”

✧｡ “mhm! i’ve had a crush on him for a while, and he likes me back! so when he asked me to be his girlfriend, i said yes and we hugged!”

✧｡ by the looks of his face when he and your child came home, you knew exactly what had happened between your husband and your daughter on the way back— you were suppressing your laughter as much as possible, but a snicker escaped your lips as you greeted your daughter and let her inside

✧｡ “you knew about this, didn’t you, y/n?” daichi mumbled as he greeted you with a kiss on the forehead, clearly bothered by the news

✧｡ “she’d always fill me in on her adventures with her crush, telling me how she knows deep within her heart that they belong together.” you had turned to your daughter, who finished putting her bag down and you picked her up in her arms, “did he ask you out today, sweetie? were your predictions correct?”

✧｡ “yes! we’re dating now!” just hearing those words made daichi’s heart clench, but he had to just smile through the pain

✧｡ “that’s... lovely, sweetheart...” had he bothered to say anything more, he was going to pass out

✧｡ “wait, daddy doesn’t know who your boyfriend is, huh?” you smirked, causing daichi’s face to pale, “why don’t you tell him who your special someone is, dear?”

✧｡ your daughter grinned, “you know his dad, daddy! mr. nishinoya!”

✧｡ daichi proceeded to stare a wall blankly for the next half hour, repeating the words “oh my god, noya has a son” like a mantra.

✧｡ “mommy, what’s wrong with daddy?”

✧｡ “just give him some time, he’ll process it soon.”

wakatoshi ushijima.

✧｡ the first time he heard of his daughter having a crush on someone, it went completely over his head and thought nothing of it

✧｡ “daddy! i have a crush on that boy over there!”

✧｡ “oh. that’s nice, dear.”

✧｡ you were initially surprised when you heard his reaction, you weren’t expecting ushi to be so nonchalant— he was very overprotective of your only child, even if he didn’t show it

✧｡ turns out, he doesn’t know what a crush IS

✧｡ he thought it was just some childhood slang for classmate, and proceeded to carry on with his day— his daughter didn’t explain to him what having a crush meant, either

✧｡ oh sweet mother of jesus, you’ve married a complete dunce

✧｡ “toshi... you’re okay with her having a crush on a boy, right? you don’t mind?” you had to know for yourself, you asked ushijima about it when he came home from adlers practice; you let him wash up and both of you had put your child down for the night, you were busy making a late night meal for him since you know he can get hungry after working so hard

✧｡ “why wouldn’t i be okay with it? doesn’t she have many crushes?”

✧｡ you pressed your fingers against your temples and sighed loudly, shaking your head in disbelief. “do you even know what crushes are?”

✧｡ “classmates...?” seeing the shock on your face, he raised an eyebrow slightly, confused with your exasperation. “is it not youth slang for classmates?”

✧｡ “toshi— no. just, no.” you sat down in a chair next to him, and proceeded to explain that crushes are not slang for classmates, and to explain what your daughter was going through

✧｡ uh, i think you broke him

✧｡ after a whole five minutes of silence, all you got in return was “... oh. that’s what crushes are.”

✧｡ his face was completely blank, you weren’t sure if it was him realizing that he did not like that, or if he still was completely confused to his daughter having feelings for a boy

✧｡ “... well, i don’t see the harm in it.” you turned in surprise— his face was still stoic and unreadable, but he had shrugged slightly as it was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “a harmless crush on a boy isn’t too bad. and besides,” you could see a ghost of a smirk appear on his lips, “i had a crush on you, and we turned out like this.”

✧｡ sir that is illegal wtf go back to being a dunce

✧｡ you scoffed and hid your blush in your hands, rolling your eyes a bit, “do you even know who the boy is, toshi?”

✧｡ “am i supposed to know?”

✧｡ “ask your friend hoshiumi tomorrow at pracrice, i think he’ll be able to fill you in on it.”

✧｡ wakatoshi had many, many questions for his daughter the next evening when he came back from practice, oh boy.

tooru oikawa.

✧｡ honestly, i think tooru would take the news the best out of everyone here JFJSJJD probably because he’s so experienced in having people fawn and gawk over him, oops

✧｡ but obviously he’s still gonna be a little diva about it; after all, it’s HIS perfect princess we’re talking about here

✧｡ he came back home at the sight of your daughter daydreaming to you about her day at school, anyone with common sense could see how whipped and smitten over whoever this person was

✧｡ “we held hands during recess today! i almost didn’t want to wash my hands when we went inside today— hi daddy!”

✧｡ oikawa scooped her up in her arms and chuckled, ruffling her hair slightly, “hey there sweetheart, who did you hold hands with today?”

✧｡ the little girl blushed, lowering her voice shyly as she twiddled her thumbs, “it’s this boy in my class who i really like...”

✧｡ you couldn’t help but laugh at tooru’s initial reaction; his eyebrows flew upwards as his jaw parted slightly, processing the fact that his babygirl had developed a crush™ on a classmate

✧｡ tooru wasn’t too bothered by it, he was just in shock— immediately after he simply kissed her hair and smiled brightly at your daughter, “that’s real sweet, princess. anyone would be lucky to have someone as adorable as you liking them.”

✧｡ “you’re just saying that because i’m your daughter, daddy.”

✧｡ “no! i am just saying the truth!”

✧｡ he huffed, “besides, you better not get married so soon! you’re still MY baby, he can’t take you from me just yet! i’m still number one in your heart, right?”

✧｡ “tooru...”

✧｡ “y/n, how can you be so content with her having a crush already? she’ll be gone from us so soon from the power of love! not yet not yet, i’m not ready to say goodbye!”

✧｡ embodiment of 🥺, part two

✧｡ “of course you’re still number one daddy, i just like him a little bit, that’s all!” your daughter pouted a bit, causing the brunet to chuckle and kiss her forehead next

✧｡ “i’m joking, princess. having a crush is so adorable, i remember when your mom still had a crush on me.”

✧｡ “you had a crush on me first, tooru.”

✧｡ “BESIDES THE POINT, who’s the lucky guy?”

✧｡ you laughed at his question, your lips quivering as your suppressed your laugh but not fully, a hand covering your mouth but the laughter evidently there, tooru looked at you weirdly

✧｡ “what’s so funny?”

✧｡ you turned to your daughter, “tell him, sweetie.”

✧｡ a bright grin, followed by, “kyoutani!”

✧｡ holy mother of goodness oikawa almost dropped her from the name, a loud gasp filling the room as his face turned completely white

✧｡ “y/n, please tell me i heard her wrong. PLEASE TELL ME I DIDN’T JUST HEAR THAT.”

✧｡ “our daughter crushing on mad dog’s son? no, you heard that perfectly clear, darling.”

koutarou bokuto.

✧｡ bokuto will take it personally and will see to it that he will win this one-sided war for your daughter’s affection

✧｡ same way kuroo found out, he was def eavesdropping on you and your daughter’s girl time; there was no escaping him the moment he opened the door

✧｡ “b-but what do you mean you like a boy at your school?” emo mode is a go

✧｡ “i just like him, daddy! it’s not like i’m gonna marry him!” she paused, “... yet.”

✧｡ “Y/NNNNNNN OUR BABY IS GROWING UP SO QUICKLY DO SOMETHING!”

✧｡ “kou, it’s just a crush...”

✧｡ “do you not remember how it was when i had a crush on you?”

✧｡ you sighed, running a hand through his hair to calm him down— which worked, a little bit— “you, koutarou, are a special breed.” you kissed his forehead, sighing at how his hair depleted

✧｡ “you are still my princess! my babygirl! i should talk to this fellow, because i will not be second best to my daughter’s heart.” he huffed, puffing out his chest with pride

✧｡ she, on the other hand, is completely embarrassed by this, “daddy, no...”

✧｡ “what? why not?”

✧｡ “actually, you should let him do just that, sweetheart.” you crossed your arms and smiled, much to your daughter’s dismay. “i think akaashi will find entertainment in seeing this for himself.”

✧｡ “akaashi? what does he have to do with this?”

✧｡ too late, you’re already calling the other fukurodani alumni, chuckling as both bokuto and your daughter are giving you the same exact confused look— like father, like daughter

✧｡ “akaashi will be here in about 10 minutes. i told him to bring his child, here, too.”

✧｡ “baby, what are you talking about—”

✧｡ meanwhile, your daughter was in a frenzy, running around the house as she screamed about getting ready and looking nice for the guests— bokuto was still plopped one the floor, looking up at you like a lost puppy

✧｡ akaashi walks through the door with a grin on his lips, holding his son’s hand as you greeted both of them at the door, “akaashi! wonderful to have you here! your son is looking so handsome.”

✧｡ “akaashi? why are you here?” kou blinks in confusion, scratching the side of his head before he notices how his own daughter is reacting— she looks like she’s about to explode, hiding behind his leg with a whole face of blush

✧｡ “y/n said you wanted to talk to my son about something, so i figured why not? i’ve got a day off.” akaashi chuckled and waved to your daughter, who shyly waved back but hid again before the other guest in the house could get a good look at her

✧｡ “WAIT. YOUR SON IS—”

✧｡ you left the room, you were laughing so loudly— akaashi found this quite humorous as well; bokuto looked down at his daughter, clinging onto his leg and smiling softly to herself. she had gotten the courage to wave at akaashi’s son, who smiled brightly at her and blushed as well

✧｡ “... oh my god.” he felt like an idiot, yes— but akaashi’s kid being the lucky guy? “ARRANGE THE MARRIAGE!”

✧｡ “koutarou, NO.”

✧｡ “bokuto-san, no.”

✧｡ “DADDY, NOOOOOO!”

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hiswhiteknight · 3 years

Text

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 9

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1900

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

You heard Jamie’s word after he left, ‘You should go up and spend some time with the clan, it might be worth learning a bit more.’ He wasn’t wrong, though it was hard for you to admit it. You took a deep sigh, fixed your hair, and went back up the stairs. You found Mrs. Fitz, who passed you a drink. “Lovely you joined us again Y/N. Everything prepped for the hunt?”

“Sure is, Mrs. Fitz, sure is, which means I can drink and be merry,” you watched as the line started to dwindle down as the men took their oaths to Colum. “Anything happen after the oath taking, like that musician, will he be playing today. Love that guy,” you smile down at her.

She looked at you bemused and shook her head, “No, he won’t be playing this evening. There will be dancing later, I’m sure quite a few men would be interested in dancing with you.”

You shook your head at her, “You are not a match maker Mrs. Fitz. I would not dare to go out on that floor. I would insult the good Mackenzie clan with my lack of grace.” A man tripped over his feet in front of you and stumbled on to find his friends.

“Grace is nothing you need to worry about here dear,” she grinned at you. “Not too difficult to figure out, I’ll have Laoghaire show you later,” she tapped you. Laoghaire stood next to her, giving you a strange look, you were sure you didn’t warrant. Suddenly the room grew quiet and you looked up towards the entrance of the hall. Jamie was weaving through the crowd slowly. He had changed and making his way towards the oath taking line. And every eye was on him, except when you turned to observe everyone’s reaction Murtagh was looking at you. You gripped Mrs. Fitz’s arm and pushed towards Murtagh, there was no way you were taking credit for this.

When you made yourself up to him, he was towards the back of the room with his hand gripping the top of his sword, “Why do I have a feeling this involves you?”

“I didn’t do it,” you whispered harshly to him, sounding like a child defending their lack of innocence. He tipped his head over not believing you for a second, “I didn’t do it on purpose, and he told me he could get back just fine.”

“You don’t understand what you just did to him. You signed his death sentence,” he pulled you back further. Murtagh caught you up in the severity of Jamie’s predicament. With every word, you grew more worrisome and filled with guilt. The thought of not having Jamie to rely on as a friend tousled around in your head. You tried to find a way to free Jamie from this situation and the only thought you could manage was start a fire or faint and you didn’t believe either of those situations would help him out of this.

It was Jamie’s turn next and you didn’t acknowledge that you started to hold your breath. Suddenly without reason or thought, you grabbed Murtagh’s forearm. And without much thought, Jamie diplomatically got himself out of the situation looking like a leader. You cursed under your breath, before dusting off the front of your dress, “And you were worried Murtagh. See Jamie came out looking like a,” you paused not being able to come up with a metaphor that would make sense in the 18th century, “I don’t know. He is just fine. Now you can’t be mad at me.”

Murtagh rolled his eyes as Jamie walked up to him, “Couldn’t stay away from trouble, aye?”

Jamie looked towards you, his face grew a knowing smile I didn’t quite understand, “Sometimes trouble finds me than I’m like a moth to flame. Y/N, I see you decided to join the gathering again.”

“You made it sound so exciting and here you were not wrong. Though it doesn’t bode well that you got caught. And now Murtagh here is blaming me for your lack of discretion,” you use your thumb to point back at Murtagh, “And I was starting to win him over.”

Scratching the back of his neck, leaning in to whisper, “Not everyone can be sneaky as you and not get caught.”

“Tis right there sir,” you shoot back at him.

Hearing a big sigh come from his partner in crime, Murtagh gave Jamie an eye roll and pulled him out of the hall, “You’ve had enough of trouble this evening, let’s go.”

“Enjoy your evening, Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting back a snarky comment. You could throttle the man for making everything seem so suave and charming. As Jamie and Murtagh rounded the hall entrance, the phrase you repeated to yourself, ‘your charm doesn’t work on me Jamie.’ It was slowly hitting you that, that mantra might not be as strong as you needed it to be. You looked around, feeling someone starring at you and caught eye contact with Laoghaire. And suddenly she was storming out of your eyesight. The dancing had started and you watched the mesmerizing dance of the culture. Everyone’s laughter put you at ease for a moment. Then suddenly, you were in your head missing your home and brother. You weren’t meant to be here, everything you are is fake or reserved. You couldn’t live like this and the bought of hopelessness took over your soul. In this moment, something inside you became a little toxic.

The next morning, you were up early for the hunt. The way the night ended with the uneasiness sat on your chests as you dressed for the day. This wasn’t your place, this wasn’t your job, and it started to bother you how different the times are. You would never be respected as a woman, an unmarried woman. You tossed your hair in two French braids, per usual fashion when having a busy day. You dropped your hair piece under the bed and you ducked down to grab it to suddenly find a strange bundle. You finished with your hair and brought the bundle down to the kitchen.

You grabbed some bread and sat the bundle on the table, “Dear what are you bringing that into this kitchen,” Mrs. Fitz yelled catching you off guard and causing you to stumble backwards.

“I,” you paused to comprehend the situation, “I, I found it in my room, under my bed and I was going to ask it was some weird potpourri thing. What is it?”

“It’s an ill-wish, a witch’s making,” she tossed it into the fire.

“An ill-wish, what?”

“Someone be wishing to bring you harm dear, what have you gotten into,” she put both her hands on your face, “Try staying out of trouble, someone has an eye to hurt you.”

“I didn’t do anything, literally I have been making myself small at possible Mrs. Fitz,” your voice started to raise. You have done everything in your power to win people over, treat people with kindness, not start a stir when you found injustice to your gender and status. You didn’t believe in witchcraft, though it should cause you to question since you are living the 18th century, which is something you would never believe in.

“All due respect, Mrs. Fitz, but someone is going to get their ass beat hard,” you shot catching everyone’s attention.

“Lass, mind your tongue. That is not the language a lady speaks,” Mrs. Fitz tried to sooth you.

You pull away from her, “No,” you start to gather your things feeling the heat of this betrayal crumble the wall you built around your true self to keep you protected from these people. Every comment, action, and lie you’ve told to keep yourself from being killed, shunned, raped, or imprisoned is bubbling out of your pours. You have reached you limit, “I am not a lady Mrs. Fitz. I do not belong here. I wear pants damn it, I swear, and I could probably kick the ass of half the men here,” you paused, “At the same time,” you paused again, “Maybe not, but I sure would die trying. I do not belong here. Look at how everyone looks at me, treats me, I’m the enemy because I’m different. I’m not part of the clans, I’m an imposter. And rather than whisper about their hatred, someone wants to cause me actual pain with this bullshit. Fuck that. I’m sorry Mrs. Fitz and pardon me, but fuck that.” Your packs were hanging from my shoulder, “Let this spread around the village, anyone that can guarantee me the name of the person who put this under my bed gets all the money I have earned over the time I’ve been here.”

“Y/N,” Mrs. Fitz called after you. She clearly was not offended by your lewdness, but more she was concerned about what you were about to cause with your burst of feelings of revenge and anger.

You stomped up to Angus, “Where the necklace man, I didn’t escape or leave, now give the piece back?”

“Don’t speak to me like that lassie,” he started to feel around his body for the necklace you gave him the night before. With every pat, your already boiling anger grew. That was the only piece from your family you owned. “Might of lost-,” he started to say.

With the beginning of his sentence, you went for your dagger lying on your waistband. Before you could pull it out, Rupert pushed your hand down holding the handle down, “Settle down Y/N, Angus gave me the necklace to watch over. He noted he would lose it.” He pushed the charm in your hand, “If that would have came out, Angus would have gutted you. Does the hunt have you on edge lass?”

“Stupidity has me on edge Rupert and it’s not much of your business,” you stormed away to find your horse. Something had changed in you and you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You struggled to get on your horse, when someone came up and offered you an extra push. Jamie stood in front of you and your horse, “Mrs. Fitz asked me to check on you. She shared you were upset and threatening people. I heard you tried to pull a knife on Angus, what has gotten into you woman.”

This time you didn’t make eye contact with Jamie, “Mind your business Mister MacTavish. If I want to fight or punish someone for their actions against me, then I’ll see fit to do it. Now get out of my way, there is a boar to chase down and murdered.”

Jamie didn’t move, keeping your horse in place, “You going to get yourself killed and as your friend, that does in fact concern me. You shouldn’t be going on the hunt like this.”

You pushed forward with the horse causing Jamie to back up quickly, “I’ve seen Old Yeller, I get the dangers that come from a boar. Right now, you should be worried about the clansmen Mackenzie. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you started to move towards the field.

You were fully aware he would not get the reference from the 21st century, but you did not care. The thought of taking the horse and charging out of the village to the stones drifted to your mind. But you still cared to get back to your brother at the moment and that meant you had to have a chance to survive, “Y/N,” Jamie yelled after you.

“Leave me alone, Mister MacTavish, I have business to attend to,” you shouted back.

Part 10

Taglist: @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey

#Outlander #fanfiction #outlander fanfiction #outlander imagine #Jamie Fraser #jamie fraser imagine #jamie fraser imagines #jamie fraser x reader #jamie frazier x reader

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taliaquinn · 3 years

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Hamilton AU Part 2

lthI’m really glad to see that you guys loved the Hamilton AU. I really enjoyed seeing all the comments. Sorry for the inactivity I was super busy with getting readjusted and getting the proper amount of sleep. I hope I tagged Everyone if I didn't please feel free to comment here or direct message me. Here is the part two with a bigger presence of the Batfam. :)

“ItwasanecessarysacrificeitwasnecessaryItwasneededtosavemyreputationitwas-” repeating that mantra, Adrien slowly lifted his head from his hands to look over the newspapers, splattered all around his desk. All the headlines glaring at him in bold black print.

SHOCKING: Details Of Adrien Agreste’s Affair Revealed

FASHION INDUSTRY IN CHAOS FOLLOWING ADRIEN AGRESTE ADMITTING AN AFFAIR WITH BRULER INDUSTRIES SECRETARY LILA ROSSI

‘OH YES HE WOULD STAY WHENEVER HE COULD ESCAPE HIS WIFE” ALLEGED MISTRESS LILA ROSSI STATES

MARINETTE AGRESTE IN TATTERS FOLLOWING BOMBSHELL AFFAIR ALLEGATIONS

Adrien couldn’t help but flinch at that specific headline.

Marinette would forgive him. She was head-over-heels in love with him plus she had to forgive him for the sake of Emma, Louis, and Hugo.

He quickly turned and focused on the only headline that mattered.

ADRIEN AGRESTE CLEARED OF ANY FINANCIAL WRONGDOING BY FRENCH INVESTIGATORS

Oh god, he couldn't believe he had let it get that far. He should’ve released the video much earlier before any charges were made public.

How dare they try to frame him. Everyone knew he always did everything in his life perfectly, efficiently, and legally.

That lowly Bruler Board Member trying to extort him of all people. Then have the nerve to accuse him of embezzlement just so they could avoid jail time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the big framed picture of his and Marinette's wedding. Marinette beaming with joy, her arm wrapped around Adrien's.

She looked beautiful that day. No matter what, seeing that picture of her in her wedding dress always managed to take his breath away.

She’ll forgive him. Especially once she knows why Adrien had to take extreme measures.

He threw most of the Newspapers away keeping only that one that cleared him on any legal wrongdoing.

He sat down actively trying to ignore the pings from his cellphone. Before finally reaching over and shutting it off.

He leaned back and thought back to that fateful day that changed everything.

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

Adrien was just walking out of a meeting with the CEO of Bruler Industries when he felt hands wrap around his arm. He shifted to politely ask them to let him go before he was staring at familiar green eyes.

”Oh!?” Adrien is that you?” Lila squealed. Grasping his arm even tighter.

“Lila? It's been so long since I last saw you” he exclaimed awkwardly trying to get his arm released from the Italian grip.

“Far too Long” Lila cried wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He quickly returned the hug. finally breaking it off, after an oddly long time, before walking towards the elevator together

” What are you doing here? Are you working on a Charity collaboration with Bruler Industries?” He asked, he couldn't help but notice Lilas employee id.

“Huh- OH UHM no actually I work here now” She let out quickly taking off her ID and stashing it into her pocket “I got offered a job here once they saw the way I ran one of my charities, They practically begged me to come work for them as a secretary and help them with Organizing”

“Wow, that's amazing” He breathed out stepping onto the elevator with her following closely behind “What a coincidence that we managed to run into each other”

“Sure is” Ha. As if.

Lila had been seeing the Articles written about the “power couple”. Adrien and Marinette. She seethed with jealousy every time an article would appear, praising her work, her charity, and her kindness.

That should’ve been Lila, she should've been the other half of the power couple. She should’ve been the “beloved beautiful Mrs.Agreste.”

This is why she was ecstatic and thrilled when she saw Adrien scheduled for a Meeting with Bruler Industries CEO on the schedule that Assistant Secretaries received each day. She could barely manage to qualify for her job as an assistant secretary to a lower executive, she could only dream of being the CEO’s secretary.

Reading articles and watching videos Lila realized that she wasn’t the only one Jealous of Marinette. Adrien was too. Through the quick glances thrown in his wife's direction or the flickers of annoyance on his face every time Marinette's fans approached her on the streets, who would practically ignore Adrien.

Lila knew it was jealousy. She after all felt it too.

The baker girl surpassed Lila. That enraged her to no end. She was determined to change all of that.

This is why she had to sneak her way onto the top floor barely in time so she could “run” into Adrien. Which was successful.

Shaking back to reality Lila couldn't help but give a quick glance at Adrien next to her in the Elevator, she realized that she had stumbled upon a crucial piece of knowledge that would give her everything she wanted.

There was no way she could let Adrien leave….at least without her.

Lila practically dragged Adrien towards a “close” cafe that just so happened to have an intimate theme. Lila ordered coffee for them both and quickly delved into all her “adventures” she “had” since leaving lycee. Totally false but attention-grabbing as apparent by Adrien's intense concentration on Lila and her adventures.

Lila knew that she didn’t have to worry about Marinette interrupting their little meet-up. She was away. Lila knew this. She saw the news report about Marinette and Her kids landing in Gotham in a private jet.

Adrien was obviously unhappy at the fact that his family was in the States without him for all of the summer. They had to stay in the States for all of the summer because of Marinette. She was a Wayne so she was required to go to the annual Wayne Gala.

Meanwhile, he stayed behind to take care of the Agreste company, fighting to make it even greater, Maintain the image of perfection. He even had the hope that someday it would be able to join Wayne corporations. Until then the Agreste Mansión was empty.

For now.

Lila wasn’t blind she could see the jealousy written on Adrien's face when the topic shifted to his wife. Marinette Wayne-Agreste. beautiful, talented, intelligent, business owner and mother of three.

Plus her parents were Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Corporations, along with Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain who were world-renowned bakers.

Marinette was the envy of all, including her husband.

She reached out and took Adrien's hands into her own. “Oh Adrien just know that you are sooo kind,” putting on a mask of fake worry she continued “I could only wonder how much you worry about her cheating on you, I mean Marinette does go on abroad trips on a daily basis and men practically trip over themselves to talk to her, who knows what goes on when you're not around”

She felt Adrien's hands tighten their grip around her. Lila flashed a triumphant smile before quickly placing a mask of concern over it. If everything went on according to plan soon she might find herself as the new Mrs.Agreste. Soon they both stood up and Adrien offered to walk her home and pay. “ Adrien you are too kind” Lila giggled out.

Oh, Adrien was feeling pleased with being the center of attention, and Lila didn’t even have to milk it that much. After all, He offered to walk her home she didn't even need to ask.

“Oh Adrien it was so much fun talking and chatting again” Lila cooed, batting her eyelashes at him while clutching at his arm. Very reminiscent of their highschool days. Far too soon for Lilas liking they arrived at her hotel.

“Well I should head back home,” He said sheepishly standing inside the hotel lobby.

Lila knew she had one shot. Quickly she flung at Adrien and clasped her hands around her upper arm. “Stay” She pleaded “We haven’t talked in so long, it's too soon for you to go”.

Adrien let out a sigh and saw the hopeful and pleading look in her eyes. Marinette's smiling face flashed in front of him for a sec. But he quickly brushed it aside. Talking to Lila had been such an eye-opening, refreshing experience. Marinette's face flashed once again before Adrien angrily pushed away from the image.

Like Lila said, who knew what Marinette was up to on her trips abroad in Gotham? She probably stayed in her friend's hotel room all the time to talk. Plus He was weak and tired from the long weekend; it surely wouldn’t hurt to stay and chat for a few hours with Lila.

Making up his mind He allowed himself to be led up the hotel stairs.

Lila Quickly led him to her hotel room and opened the door. Adrien without batting an eyelash stepped inside. The door shutting behind him

Unbeknownst to a happy Marinette in Gotham surrounded by her brothers, sister, father, and children the perfect storm has just been created and its name was Lila Rossi

Anyways that's a wrap. I used the tax Evasion accusation since thats similar to what Alexander Hamilton was accused of. Wonder what's coming next >:)

Don't forget to like, reblog and comment, I really look forward to reading your comments since they bring me so much joy. Also if I missed tagging you please just comment again. Apologies :)

Stay Safe and Healthy

S/o to @mikantsume for noticing the Custody thing. Hope this answers your question.

Don’t forget to Like, Reblog and Comment <3

Taglist:

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601 @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34 @thecrazyfantrolls @iamablinkmarvelarmy @boldlydecadentkitty @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @blackmagicforever @blueboobutterfly @sharingiscaringapparently @starlightshield @mikantsume

#miraculous ladybug #hamilton #hamiltonau #BatFam #damian wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #adrien salt #adrien agreste #lila salt

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greatqueenanna · 3 years

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Delving deeper into Agnarr and Iduna's story.

Ever since I wrote the first part of this analysis, I’ve gotten a pretty positive response for it - most fans recognize that, while reckless, the choice of separating and isolating the girls was the only choice Agnarr and Iduna had with this unique situation. Tragic in every way, but necessary.

However, one of the things that are still being discussed to this day is whether or not Frozen 2 addressed the separation and isolation properly - that is, if the more subtle approach and scattering it across multiple installments was enough to really delve into the complexity of the separation and the trauma the girls faced.

The main content that addresses this element was Frozen 2 (obviously), Forest of Shadows, Dangerous Secrets, and True Treasure. Given that not everyone has access to or is not aware of a lot of the side books, it makes it difficult for everyone to get the full story. Because of this, I want to explore the full story of Agnarr and Iduna and go over how each of these installments, including the film itself, addressed the separation.

Part 1: Frozen 2

While Frozen 2 left out a lot of complexities when it came to the separation, there were indeed two scenes in particular that really delved into this element - particularly for Elsa.

When the sisters find the ship is the first of these scenes. Here is where Anna and Elsa witness what their parents were willing to do in order to give Elsa a better life.

"Ahtohallan is the source of the magic - We keep going. For Elsa..."

Here, we clearly see that while it wasn't directly stated, Iduna and Agnarr realized that the separation wasn't working and that they were willing to fight the storm if it meant that they could fix their mistakes.

Elsa: This is my fault, they were looking for answers about me.

Anna: You are not responsible for their choices -

Elsa: No, just their deaths.

Anna: Stop. No. Yelana asks why would the spirit reward Arendelle with a magical queen? Because our mother saved our father. She saved her enemy. Her good deed was rewarded - With you - You are a gift.

In this conversation, we see Elsa recognizing that her parents wanted to find answers for her in order to give her a better life. Thank goodness Anna is there to redirect the conversation and explain that they made this choice on their own and that Elsa is not to blame for it. She then helps explain to Elsa that she is a gift, not a bad omen that caused misery to others.

It is through this scene that Elsa (and Anna) see that their parents wanted to try and find answers, to give them a better life. This is the sisters witnessing the parents agree that their situation needed to change and that their choices were not working.

The second scene that explores this is Show Yourself. This entire scene is Elsa finally realizing that she is allowed to be herself.

Throughout Elsa's childhood, the parents thought that Elsa should hide her emotions with her gloves in order to conceal the magic (due to their own traumas that we will explore more in part 2). Elsa felt that she wasn't allowed to be herself as it would lead to someone being hurt.

In this scene, Iduna confirms to Elsa that she is indeed allowed to be herself, directly contradicting and going against whatever fears they themselves gave her or what Elsa may have instilled into herself during the separation.

"Show Yourself. Step into your power. Grow yourself into something new. You are the one you've been waiting for all of your life."

Here we see Iduna letting Elsa know that she can be herself, and no longer needs to apologize for her powers. This leads to Elsa's full self-fulfillment because not only does she have the love of her sister and the respect from her people, but also the approval from her parents that she is ok.

Part 2: Dangerous Secrets

In this novel, we get more explanation as to why Iduna and Agnarr thought that giving Elsa the gloves to conceal her emotions was an acceptable plan. In my original post, I argued that Agnarr never intended for Elsa to hide her emotions. However, this was proven to be false in Dangerous Secrets, as we are given the origin of this mantra.

Agnarr was taught this from Lord Peterssen, his father's advisor. Because the young boy was scared to be King at such a young age and thought that his emotions would be a weakness, Petersen told him that he needs to "Conceal, don't feel" in order to appear stronger. Given that this was the only way he was taught to deal with emotions, both from this man that acted as a guardian to him and his own father, Aganrr thought that it was appropriate to teach Elsa as well.

Iduna was taught the same thing from Peterssen, but for a different reason. As Iduna was Northuldra, she had to hide her true self from the Arendellians in order to stay safe - something that was further pushed by Petersen when she wanted to tell Aganrr the truth of her origins before their marriage.

Later on, we see Iduna especially, given how she relates to hiding her true heritage to Elsa's struggles, realizes how wrong this thought process was.

"Since then (the accident), Agnarr had tried to help her (Elsa) do just that - control her emotions, control her magic(....)It hadn't worked, In fact, things had only gotten worse. "

I cringed at the idea of the coming explosion, which at this point seemed unavoidable. It could be devastating not only to her, but perhaps to the entire kingdom. That was why we had her here, tucked away, I tried to remind myself. But all the rationality in the world couldn't quash the guilt. The kind of thing villains did in the storybooks - not heroes."

"My whole life I was told to hide," I said after a pause. "I don't want Elsa to have to grow up doing the same."

We also see Iduna telling Elsa directly that hiding her emotions was not a good way to control her magic, and would only make her feel worse.

"I know that's what your father has told you," I said, slowly. "And maybe it does help, for a time. But squashing down your emotions can only work for so long. Before you feel like a powder keg. Ready to explode."

Iduna later confronts Aganrr about this, convincing him that they needed to find a better solution. Agnarr agrees, setting the expedition himself to Ahtohallan.

Part 3: Forest of Shadows

Many people put forward that Anna's trauma from the separation was not addressed. Frozen 2 focused more on Anna's dependency on her loved ones for validation. She had to lose everything in order to depend on herself. It was written very well, but there was still an element that seemed missing from Anna's development - Anna's feelings of low self-worth that stemmed from the separation. This is where Forest of Shadows comes in.

While I feel that Anna did not need the validation from her parents as much as Elsa did, given that her relationship with her parents was not as strained, it would still be nice if the story acknowledged where these feelings came from in the first place.

This book covers Anna's feelings about herself, and whether or not she can be trusted with important information and tasks. The book has Anna directly relate this fear to her parents hiding Elsa's powers from her.

"Something scraped in Anna, like a rough crumb caught in her throat. Because...well, her family's burdens and secrets hadn't been for everyone. Or at least, they hadn't been for Anna. Her father had let a mountain troll bundle away Anna's memories of Elsa's ice magic, and he, her mother, and Elsa had all worked together to keep it a secret from Anna."

This is important because it shows that Anna realizes the root of her feelings of inadequacy comes from - not from anything she herself has done but from how her family chose to approach the situation.

Throughout the story, Anna struggles with the idea if she is capable of handling important and serious situations. Anna finally gets her answer when she sees that Elsa was planning on leaving Anna in Arendelle while she went on a grand tour. Anna wanted to go with Elsa but felt that she didn't want her to go because she didn't feel Anna was capable enough. However, we come to find out that this is not true.

"I, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, do hereby proclaim my sister, Anna of Arendelle, Keeper of the Kingdom while I sail on the grand tour. She is kind, thoughtful, and loves Arendelle with the whole of her heart. There is none better than her to watch over the kingdom while I am away."

Anna realizes that the only person that felt she was incapable was herself, not Elsa or anyone.

Of course, this is nice but wouldn't it have been wonderful for Anna to hear it from her parents as well? I agree, and this is one of the many reasons why Anna fans were upset that this deleted scene was removed. While the feelings of the parents in this scene were made canon by Dangerous Secrets, Anna still never got to hear it directly from them.

We can have some comfort, however, in the next part.

Part 4: True Treasure

Psst, you all can read the full story here. After you read, please support the writer and artist by purchasing the comic when you are able to.

True Treasure is unique in that it is a comic book that explores the sister's relationship with Iduna during the separation years. The sisters later find out that Iduna had set up a treasure hunt for them, and the girls use their memories of different events to discover the prize.

However, what is especially amazing about this book, is that it has Iduna (and Agnarr) directly apologizing to the sisters for separating them.

Later, Elsa and Anna say that they are ready to move forward and make their own futures together.

Conclusion

Thus, from all these sources, we see that the separation and the trauma it caused to the sisters were indeed addressed. Given that it was done in multiple installments, it might be difficult for everyone to see the full story. So, I wanted to provide it all for you here, so we all can know the parent's full story.

Iduna and Agnarr were taught their whole lives that they needed to conceal their emotions and true selves in order to stay safe or appear stronger. Wanting to keep both their daughters safe, and Arendelle, they thought that separating the girls and isolating Elsa would be the best choice. This was never meant to be permanent, as they both wanted their daughters to be together again. While Agnarr worked directly with Elsa to help with her magic, Iduna worked behind the scenes doing expensive research.

As the years went by, Iduna started to feel incredibly guilty about the separation and confronted Agnarr about it, who had actually come to feel the same way. They both realized that what they were taught and teaching Elsa was wrong, and the only thing it did was make Elsa's fear that she already had even worse. After creating the Treasure Hunt in hopes that the girls would be together again, the parents went to Ahtohallan to find answers for Elsa's magic, and finally, end the curse of fear that was plaguing their family.

Unfortunately, they were never able to see their daughters together again. Agnarr and Iduna are very tragic figures and knowing everything that happened only gives their story more meaning.

#greatqueenanna/analysis #Agnarr #Iduna #Agduna #pro-agduna #Frozen #Frozen 2 #Frozen 2: Dangerous Secrets #Frozen 2: Forest of Shadows #Frozen: True Treasure

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hacawijo · 3 years

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TarGwyn - My MOST Left Field Theory

Okay so, Tarquin and Gwyn have not interacted at all, have not even been mentioned in the same chapter, like... I am very aware that this is a huge stretch and is most likely me just reading into some pretty writing lol but I can’t quite let go of it! I have like, three very small tiers to this theory. The theory being that Tarquin and Gwyn may be mates, or at least destined for each other.

Please don’t come for me, it’s just been stuck in my head, I’m not trying to put down Gwynriel! I just kinda like the idea of it, because I love both characters very much.

Tier One - A Good Male and The Rock Against Which the Surf Crashes

My biggest point, when I think about it, is that both Gwyn and Tarquin are truly charming and wonderful. Tarquin and Gwyn are both warm and compassionate and honest, optimistic and earnest, but with mighty resolve and courage. Tarquin wants to see a more irreverent, accepting world - and Gwyn has embodied those values time and again in ACOSF. Not to mention the fact that Gwyn is part-nymph, and I do believe that a high lord with ideals being mated to someone who is not full-high fae would help to create the world that Tarquin wants to build.

TARQUIN CHARACTER EVIDENCE:

“I would like to one day see a Prythian in which they [lesser Faeries] have a voice, both in my home and in the world beyond it.” (Tarquin to Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 33)

…that might destroy this place— and a High Lord who might very well overturn the order of things. (Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 34)

Tarquin studied me. “I’d say I’m looking at the most valuable thing in here.”

I didn’t fake the blush. “You’re very kind.” His smile was soft. As if his position had not yet broken the compassion in him. I hoped it never did. (Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 34)

I supposed it was the least of my worries. Tarquin frowned at the map one last time and declared, “We’ll find a way to face this.” (Feyre ACOWAR Chapter 62) [an example of Tarquin’s strong and positive will]

GWYN CHARACTER EVIDENCE:

“Tell yourself, I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Your thoughts are the surf. Let them crash over you.” (Gwyn doing the mind-stilling with Nesta ACOSF Chapter 39) [this is obviously in general a Valkyrie mantra, but when reading the book it definitely feels like it belongs to Gwyn the most]

She’d expected to have to coax her friend, but once Gwyn overcame her initial trepidation, she was a willing participant, and a merry companion. The priestess laughed at her own mistakes, and did not bristle at corrections from Cassian. (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 25)

“Because I don’t ever want to feel powerless again,” Gwyn said softly, and all those easy smiles and bright laughs were gone. Only stark, pained honesty shone in her remarkable eyes. (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 25)

Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.” (ACOSF Chapter 56)

I could go on and on about Gwyn, but....

Tier Two - Summer and Sea descriptive language

We associate sun and light more with the Day Court and the Dawn Court, and so the only things I’ve ever really noticed as signature Summer Court are the Sea and Heat. SJM, surprisingly, doesn’t actually use a lot of ocean/sea language to describe anyone’s physical appearance in this series, I’ve really only noticed it prominently with Tarquin and Gwyn.

“Tarquin’s eyes—so like the sea beyond us—slid to me. “How do they compare to the ones you have seen?” Such a carefully crafted question.” (ACOMAF Chapter 32)

Gwyn’s eyes shone, like the sunlight on a warm sea. (ACOSF Chapter 51)

And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea, she only extended her battered hand to Azriel. (ACOSF Chapter 60)

“My grandmother was a river-nymph who seduced a High Fae male from the Autumn Court. So I’m a quarter nymph, but it’s enough for this.” Gwyn gestured to her large eyes—blue so clear it could have been the shallow sea—and her lithe body. “My bones are slightly more pliant than ordinary High Fae’s, but who cares about that?” (Gwyn/Nesta ACOSF Chapter 29)

Gwyn, however, stilled, those large teal eyes looking even more unearthly as they widened. No fear tinged her scent, but rather something like surprise—awe. (ACOSF Chapter 28) [Here, my only point is that Unearthly can be interpreted as Sea-ly - what is not earth is sea!]

Also, there’s a quote where Gwyn is compared to a summer storm in ACOSF (in the whole series, the only other non-Tarquin person who has been described with the word summer is Elain, and that was in reference to her similarity to a warm sunset), and a quote from ACOMAF where Feyre talks about the sea singing to her:

Quiet settled around her, as if Gwyn had been a summer storm that blew in and evaporated within a moment. (ACOSF Chapter 9)

The salt and the sea and the breeze tugged on me, sang to me. (ACOMAF Chapter 33)

Tier Three - The Significance of Colors

I think that we can all agree SJM wields color in a specific way a lot of the time - for example with Azriel and Cassian’s siphons or Mor and Amren’s signature colors. I noticed a ton of similarities in the colors associated with Tarquin and the Summer Court and those associated with Gwyn.

Tarquin and Summer

High Lord of Summer had rich brown skin, white hair, and eyes of crushing, turquoise blue. (Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 32)

She looked over Tarquin, tall and muscled, his clothes of sea-green and blue and gold, (Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 32)

Tarquin’s pewter tunic was accented with the same shade of seafoam green as my clothes. We might as well have been a matching set. I supposed with my brown-gold hair and pale skin, I was his mirror opposite. (Feyre ACOMAF Chapter 34) [Gwyn and Feyre have virtually the same coloring for the purposes of this contrast]

silver-and-blue armor of Tarquin’s court (Feyre ACOWAR Chapter 36)

Gwyn

Her large teal eyes were as clear and depthless as the stone usually atop a priestess’s hood (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 9)

Gwyn reached into the pocket of her pale robe and pulled out the blue stone of the priestesses. It fluttered with light, like the sun on a shallow sea. (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 15)

In the sunlight, the color of her hair was extraordinary, strands of gold glinting, and her teal eyes were a near-perfect match to the stones the other priestesses wore. (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 25)

Nesta refrained from snickering and selected colors for Gwyn: blue, white, and teal. (Nesta ACOSF Chapter 59)

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. (Azriel ACOSF Bonus Chapter)

Also, Varian is literally always at the Night Court, so Summer Court is also low-key always in play :P

#targwyn #tarquin #gwyn acosf #summer court #acotar #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acotar theory #wild theory #I know this is almost certainly not true #but it's fun

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years

Text

Guess I Misunderstood

Part 2 of Not the One series.

Summary: Kurt's trying a find a way to end things with Adam and Blaine Anderson is one of the reasons why.

Notes: Open for more prompts in this 'verse but I only intended it to be 2 parts of a two-sided story. I hope you enjoy.

Read Part 1 here

AO3

The first time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson, he was spying on the bulletin boards. He, like every other Apple, was worried about how many freshmen they could pull this semester. With a majority of the current Adam’s Apples being seniors, they needed to fill those spots with freshmen. Better to round them up this year so they’ll already have a year of acapella under their belts.

He's just standing there reading all the flyers. Kurt’s trying to look busy with his phone to not draw attention. But he can’t help but access this man.

Firstly, Kurt doesn't recognize him so he assumes this is a freshman, exactly the demographic their flyers are trying to bring in. The second thing that makes this man stand out among the others Kurt’s observed thus far is how nicely dressed he is. It is the first day of school so one would think a little effort would be put in but some boys their age won’t even put on a stain-free shirt to come to school. Luckily, most NYADA students care about their appearances, this freshman is no exception.

He’s wearing tightly fitted, dark green, capri pants and a crisp, white, collared polo.

Then his hand is reaching up to the green flyer Kurt designed.

He takes it.

YES!

Kurt tries to collect himself when he walks over to the boards. Don’t scare him away is his new mantra.

“The Apples?” He asks.

The freshman was shy at first probably because he didn’t expect to be approached. Before he answers Kurt, he does manage to meet his eyes.

Well, Kurt thought, if he sings as well as he looks the Apples could make Nationals.

In the past, Kurt would’ve berated himself for checking out guys while being in a relationship but he’s becoming less sure about Adam lately. His boyfriend is becoming a bit pushy about things like this. But Kurt isn’t about to stop doing it. If Adam really trusted him, he could see all of this was harmless.

The guy was gorgeous, no one should really blame Kurt for staring. His bowtie added a dash of adorableness, which would only draw Kurt in closer if he was single. Which he is decidedly not.

“I love to sing.”

Kurt could certainly relate. That’s how he got involved with glee clubs in the first place. Hell, that’s what got him to New York.

“Me too,” he said, “I’ll see you at auditions, break a leg.”

Only while he was walking away did Kurt curse himself for not catching the man’s name.

Before he knew it, they reached the point in the school year—day two—where Rachel was would start harassing him about “getting his name out there” and listing off all the auditions she had lined up. The only way Kurt could hear another word of this was over coffee so he dragged Rachel there before his class. This meant she had exactly 35 minutes to talk at him about it until he inevitably came home for the night and had to share the loft with her. Halfway through the conversation, he notices a finely dressed young man in line.

He’s not ashamed to admit the man’s best asset drew his attention. Though it wasn’t a difficult feat considering Power-Hungry Rachel was his other option.

Thankfully, her time was running out, “Rach, I’ll see you at home, I have Tibideaux.”

With one last look at the man, Kurt rushes off to class.

When Adam’s Apples auditions are up and running, Kurt is fuming. His boyfriend thought the perfect time to discuss their future as a couple was directly before they had to sit on their asses for 3 hours listening to a bunch of freshmen sing their hearts out.

Of course, they fought over it. Kurt was pissed about the timing, Adam thought he was being careless about their future plans because he refused to talk about it.

“I’m refusing to do it publicly when we have obligations!” Kurt had told him.

He had stormed into the empty auditorium at that point, casting aside Adam’s idea to move away after graduation for the moment, and sat in the third row. Unable to take a hint, Adam sat beside him.

Kurt was barely able to pay attention to the singers until Blaine. Once again, the man was pleasantly dressed. This time in bright yellow capris and a lovely yellow and blue bowtie. Kurt wondered if he had an affinity for them.

Adam coughed next to him, Kurt reverted his eyes. For the rest of the song, he was trying not to stare because Adam didn’t need another reason to blame Kurt for their relationship problems. When Blaine was finished, they clapped, Adam leaned in, “I’m sorry, you’re right.” In reply, Kurt kissed his cheek.

Knowing a simple kiss could smooth things over for now. They obviously had a lot to discuss.

As school picked up, Kurt mostly forgot about his little soft spot for Blaine until he was pulling a tipsy Adam off of the Lion’s Den dance floor Saturday night.

They knew their potential new recruits would be at Callbacks, Kurt wanted none of that. If they were going to celebrate the first week of classes as a couple, he wasn’t about to be interrupted by a drunk NYADA student begging to know how their glee audition went. So he was here and apparently so was Blaine.

He almost turned right around wanting to ignore the man. This is the exact situation he was trying to avoid. But Adam pulled him forward, slurring “bar’s this way.”

Kurt tried to catch his eye from across the bar but instead watched as Blaine slung his drink back and paid his tab. By the time Adam was finished ordering, Blaine was gone.

The fourth time Kurt thought he’d see Blaine never came.

Kurt had posted the Adam’s Apples list of new recruits himself. Blaine Anderson was at the top. Alphabetically speaking. Yet, he never showed up to their first rehearsal. Everyone else had come. It was difficult to listen to Adam’s introductory speech when he kept waiting for Blaine to walk through the auditorium doors.

He never did. Did Tuesdays at 7 not work for his schedule?

They sat in a circle on stage playing ice breakers, learning each other’s names and special interests in regards to their studies at NYADA.

When rehearsal ends, Adam tapped his shoulder, “you seem distracted, what’s up?”

Kurt remembers what Drunk Adam told him on Saturday and lies, “nothing, I’m fine. Just something Rachel said.”

“Well,” Adam helped him up, “don’t worry too much about her. Before you know it, you and I will be taking on the West End.”

He smiles until Adam turns away.

When Adam had first said they should move, Kurt thought he meant out of the heart of the city. Which was something he could understand. If Kurt’s dreams of starting a family someday were to be met, he saw the appeal of a move. It never crossed his mind that Adam meant to move across the ocean.

When they first started talking, Kurt loved the allure of an older man. Being a freshman at the time, Kurt had been desperate to fit in in ways he never could at McKinley. So when Adam took him under his wing, showed him the ropes of NYADA and New York, it was only a matter of time before Kurt had a crush on him. Initially, Adam was too busy for a relationship, he had told Kurt as much so Kurt keep the crush to himself...and Rachel.

When NYADA’s spring formal rolled around, Kurt was already planning on going with his roommate. Rachel had been trying him to match in a terrible shade of pink. It didn’t go well with either of their complexions. The text came in mid-argument about their outfits.

Adam: wanna go to formal?

Kurt dropped his phone. Luckily, he was sitting on the couch and it fell onto the cushion. Rachel, of course, knew something was wrong because Kurt paused in the middle of yelling at her about the tackiness of matching when they could complement each other instead.

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning in to glance at his phone, “it’s not your dad, right?”

“No, no, no,” Kurt assured her, tilting his screen so she could read the message.

“OH!” she squealed, jumping up. “Tell him yes!”

“He probably isn’t asking me, just wants to know if I’ll be there.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “don’t stupid, Kurt.”

Ignoring her, Kurt texted back and slumped down.

Kurt: Rachel and I are going to go together, yes

Instantly, another text came in.

Adam: Would Rachel be upset if I took you instead?

Rachel was biting her lip excitedly. Practically dancing as she sat on the couch next to him.

Kurt: I think she’d be delighted. As would I.

The two of them did some jumping up and down together before Kurt settled back onto the couch, holding his phone to his chest.

“Guess that means I can wear pink if I want to,” Rachel said before disappearing into her bedroom.

But that was then. It had been a long time since Kurt felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought about Adam. He never thought they’d completely disappear but these last few months he felt stagnant. When he expressed these concerns to his boyfriend, Adam’s solution was, once again, to move across the pond.

Like that would solve their issues.

That wasn’t what Kurt had meant by stagnant but Adam kept going on and on about how New York may be the city that never sleeps but he couldn’t wait to get back to the excitement of London.

Kurt could never see himself moving so far away from his dad or his friends. New York had become his home these last three years. Maybe Adam always dreamed of going back to the UK but he had never told Kurt that explicitly until the start of this semester. Dating for 2 years and it never came up.

By the time they were having their fifth fight about this, Kurt knew they were going to have to break up. It was just a matter of when.

The actual fourth time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was two weeks before Thanksgiving break.

He was sitting in a corner of the library. Sheets of music spread across his lap. Titling his head so a single black curl dangled in his face. Blaine keeps blowing the curl away to no avail. It took everything in Kurt to not laugh.

Adorable.

Kurt wasn’t really here to study. He finished up his assignments for the weekend. There was a major test next week for one of Rachel’s classes. She was in a study group and forgot her yellow notebook so Kurt offered to bring it to her.

Wasn’t it just his luck that Blaine Anderson was here? Right in his line of sight. The universe must be having fun with him tonight. He was about to go home to an empty apartment and write a breakup speech for Adam.

Kurt had plans to talk with his day over Thanksgiving break—Burt insisted on planning for his flight. He just needed someone, not Rachel, to tell him it was the right choice. For so long, Adam, being his first boyfriend, made Kurt feel like he owed it to Adam to continue this. Kurt had just reached the end of his rope.

He did end up talking to his dad about everything other than the impending breakup. In fact, Kurt couldn’t seem to get Blaine’s name out of his mouth.

“We had this really talented singer come in for auditions, dad,” Kurt said. “Blaine Anderson, he’s a freshman.”

“Oh yeah?”

This was the second time Kurt had brought this up.

“He’s going to do big things someday.”

By the fourth time, Blaine’s name was mentioned, which was a lot of times for a man Kurt had only spoken to once, Burt had something to say about it.

“You gonna ask him out, bud, or just keep talking to me?”

Kurt paused, blushed, and stumbled out a “no.”

“No what? You won’t ask him or he won’t go out with you.”

“Dad,” Kurt said, “both of those imply, I do ask him out.”

“Well, you should.” Burt shrugged. “You clearly like him.”

His dad did always know how to read him. This wasn’t the time to remind Burt of his boyfriend. Of whom, Burt was indifferent. Dating for years and Adam couldn’t seem to break down Burt’s overprotective walls.

Now that Kurt was alone in their apartment thinking of those conversations. All of them. Every single time he had asked Burt about Adam or called his dad after a ridiculous fight. How many of those conversations contain happy stories?

Kurt and Adam had loads of good times but none that he ever shared with his dad, no memories that become inside jokes, nothing like that.

It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, Rachel was in class, Adam’s professor had let them out earlier, and Kurt had an empty apartment.

Kurt: let’s get coffee

Adam: Be there in ten

When Kurt came back, he was a single man in New York once again.

The fifth time, Kurt saw Blaine Anderson was on purpose. He meant to run into him in the NYADA auditorium. Kurt had asked around and found out Blaine had joined a different glee club. Amy said they rehearsed on Wednesdays and Blaine was always there a half-hour earlier to warm-up alone.

Sure enough, Blaine was center stage pacing in a circle doing one of Rachel’s favorite scales. Kurt is creeping in from one of the back entrances. Slowly, he makes his way up to the stage unsure if he wants Blaine to notice him or not.

Eventually, he reaches a moment when he has to say something. About fifteen feet from the stage, Kurt speaks up, “you’re very talented, you know?”

Blaine looks down at him, a quick smile, and blushes, “thanks.”

“We were sad to not see you at rehearsals but The Singsations benefit greatly.”

“Yeah, I felt bad about it…” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but it just wasn’t going to work.”

“Well,” Kurt replied, “acapella isn’t for everyone.”

“Funny enough, it wasn’t the acapella part.”

At that, Kurt’s not sure what to say. He wants to ask what the problem was then.

“Sorry, did you just come here to ask why I didn’t join the Apples?” Blaine asked.

“Um no, Amy said you warm up here before rehearsals.” Which was Kurt’s way of stalling. “I…”

This is exactly why Kurt hadn’t had a boyfriend before Adam: he was too nervous to make the first move.

Blaine is sitting on the edge of the stage now so they’re almost level. Kurt could just push his legs apart, stand between them, and kiss him. That’s all he wants to do.

“I’ve seen you around campus a lot.” Four times.

“Me too,” Blaine said, which has Kurt smirking slightly. So he did notice him too. Then Blaine continues and knocks that smirk right off his face, “how’s your boyfriend?”

Well, Kurt should’ve expected that blow. His and Adam’s relationship was pretty well-known. In just two weeks since the breakup, Kurt’s surprised more people aren’t gossiping about it.

Honesty is the best policy, right?

“We broke up.”

“Oh,” Blaine replied, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?” Kurt asked, “because I’m not sorry at all. I should’ve done it sooner. We weren’t meant to be together as long as we were.”

“You broke up with him?” Blaine asked, confused. “But you seemed so in love.”

“A year ago, I would’ve agreed with you but one too many problems later it was never going to work,” Kurt told him, “but that’s not why I’m here either.”

“So, why are you here? I was pretty sure you didn’t know I existed.”

“I definitely do,” Kurt said, “and now it’s my turn to ask if you’re single.”

Blaine blushed again, “Not sure that’s what I meant earlier.”

“It’s what I meant.”

“I’m not seeing anyone right now, I’ve been pining after this upperclassman who was with someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah.”

Kurt took a step closer and placed his palms on Blaine’s knees.

“Well, I think he likes you too.”

Then, he pushes his legs open with no resistance from Blaine. It isn’t Kurt who leans in first though.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #klaine #my fics #not the one

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starksvixen · 3 years

Text

Both Good and Evil

Summary: Darth Regius has a mission sent down from Emperor Palpatine. Entice Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side using any means possible. But as the two draw closer, learning more about their pasts, they realize the balance of both good and evil.

Warnings: Ends with angst, darker themes, LONG ASS FIC

“Careful, Anakin, too harsh of a swing and you can hurt yourself!”

You tuck a bit of your bottom lip underneath your teeth as you look at the hologram of the handsome young Jedi training with fervor, his blonde braid gently swaying with each swing of his saber.

“I’m glad you find him attractive, you’ll need that...” a general says from behind you.

“And why is that?”

“You’ll need to use your...sexual capabilities to draw him over.”

Turning towards the bitter old man, the sharp static nips at your fingers as the dark Force flows through you, imagining his throat slowly closing under your grasp.

“You will not comment on my capabilities again unless you like your little hands there, General,”

Throwing him to the ground, you ignite one of the tiny dagger like lightsabers concealed in your corset and send it straight into the General’s head. A soft sizzle and subtle smell of pennies fills the air as you analyze the Jedi from his hologram state.

Anger fills his stature with each calculated swing, a certain glint in his eye. One that obviously hungers for revenge. A weakness, something to prey on.

Something to lure him to the Dark side...

You feel your eyes flutter to a close, the world around you turning to static as you feel for his dark energy. Then you find it, the tiniest of sparks. Before you can prey upon it, your eyes are forced open, a voice echoing from behind you:

“Who are you? How did you get into the Jedi temple?”

There he was, lightsaber raised, fear in his eyes. A fight he knew he might not win against the renowned Darth Regius.

But as you look around your surroundings, it seems as if he was on the ship with you, standing as if he had boarded minutes ago.

“I could ask you the same thing, how did you get on my ship?”

He refuses to answer, the words on his tongue fighting against his lips, a stoic face to hide his fear for the vixen of power standing before him. You cock your head softly to the side, walking closer to him as you feel the dark static you feel pulsing through your veins exuding from him.

“You want revenge, I can feel it. You want power and to feel free from the shackles the Jedi Order have locked on you.”

“You’re wrong!”

His voice wavers, his saber drops the slightest touch, his shoulders ease. The idea tickles his ears as it runs like a mad man throughout his train of thought. Slowly, you bridge the gap drawn between the two of you, holding out your hand towards him.

“Show me your pain. And I can show you freedom.”

You can see the switch in his mind, feel the light side burning you with its touch as an even more real burn makes its way towards your extended hand. The connection ends as the lightsaber lands, leaving singed skin and grimaces.

But you saw it, the Dark side taunting him, pulling him in slowly.

He just needed a little push.

You sit in your black armchair, looking at the stars as they whiz by, your tongue enveloping the bitter coffee as you sip it.

“How did you know I wanted revenge.”

You smirk as you place the cup back on the saucer that delicately balances on your lap. Turning your head, you quirk an eyebrow at the shirtless man before you, obviously roused from sleep.

“Well, good evening to you too,”

“Answer the question.”

A soft chuckle bounces across your throat before you lift your small cup and take another sip of coffee.

“Why the Force of course,” you say softly, looking out at the stars once again. “You’re taught that the different sides of the Force are just that, different.”

“Because one is used for evil and the other good.”

“But the Force doesn’t determine that, the person wielding it does. Some don’t choose either side, some choose to be the balance. Like how you were prophesied to be. The Jedi Order is delusional, thinking that balance means goodness restored.”

His eyes widen softly with interest, his shoulders releasing themselves from the cords that hung them close to his ears. You gesture towards the chair in front of you, to which he slowly takes.

“Listen, Anakin, I understand the Order is your entire life. But there is so much you don’t know, what they’ve kept from you. Because balance is not one way or another. One cannot exist without the other. You’re prophesied to bring balance to the Force, not be the Order’s puppet.”

“But that balance means the fall of the Dark Side, that’s what I was meant to do.” he says, his face contorted into confusion.

“Not necessarily. While yes, I do believe you will be the fall of the Sith, the Dark Side will always be around. I believe you are not a sole vessel for goodness. You are a vessel of great complexity, holding both good and dark in your hands.”

Silence fills the vessel as your gaze is drawn back towards the stars. You feel his eyes on you until he fades away, yet another connection broken.

“Jedi are swarming the ship! We need to evacuate!”

Grabbing your lightsaber, you secure it to your corset filled with saber daggers, their handles at the ready. Rushing out from your room, you look at the battleground before you.

“There she is! Darth Regius!”

A group of young Jedi’s yelled this as they ran down the hallway towards you. But as you pulled the handle from your corset, relinquishing the burning blade, they ran like chickens.

“(Y/N)?”

Turning around quickly, you’re met with a stunned Anakin, his lightsaber at the ready. Without hesitation, you take the first swing. As confusion interrupts his beautiful features, you project a message through the Force.

Look like you hate me. Wouldn’t want your master to find out about our little chats now would you?

Quickly, forced hatred plasters onto him as his strikes become more and more aggressive. As his force becomes harder and harder to block, you become more frantic. No way were you about to let a padawan bring you down, even if he was your mission.

Without a thought, your next swing strikes him in the face, causing the smallest of scratched burns to form. With a gasp, you watch as he reels back from the blow, a small smirk coming on his face.

“You owe me a rematch,”

With that, he runs away with his other Jedi as the entire ship cheers in defeat of the Jedi attack. Everyone around you chants your name, but you don’t have the same fervor. Instead, your mind replays the moment over and over again, one sentence coming out in front it all.

He finally trusts me.

"Why trust me?” you ask softly from your desk, different forms needing to be signed glaring at you under harsh light.

“I don’t,” Anakin replies, his lightsaber humming with each swing as he twirls it around with accuracy, pacing back and forth in your room.

You stop what you’re doing, laying the pen down straight against the papers before standing up. Anakin stops his twirl pacing, looking towards you as you hold out both hands to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you something to trust.”

A few minutes pass as you hold your position in front of him, your hands beginning to shake under the weight of vulnerability. Eventually, he drops his saber somewhere unseen, and the calloused hand as well as metal seamlessly slide into yours.

You project your worst memory, Emperor Palpatine murdering your parents. They were meant to keep his child safe alongside you, raising the two of you together so you would become dyad’s in the force, a perfect storm of darkness.

But then the child ran away.

A dyad unmade.

A deal broken.

The tears fall as you hear their screams, the buzz of a lightsaber silencing them with one fell swoop.

“Come, child,” his gravelly voice echoes.

Filled with fear you follow, the memory ending, leaving you reduced to tears in front of the boy you had just barely gotten to know.

“You’re...young, like me?” Anakin says shakily, looking at you with unshed tears. “I was always told you were older.”

You shake your head, shaking the tears away, shaking the pain and loss off your heart.

“I worked hard to survive. Be the child Palpatine lost or face the same fate as my parents.”

“Have you tried to escape? Call for help from the Order?”

“They are the reason my parents are dead!”

You harshly pull your hands away from his, the broken and war torn fingers digging into your own hips.

“A Jedi saw Palpatine’s child and helped him escape, to bring him away from the dark side. That Jedi signed my parents’ death warrant...”

Turning your back to him, you sigh, lifting a shaking hand to wipe away any sign of weakness left on your face. But another wave of sadness hits you as something different enters your mind’s eye.

Anakin, his nightmares, her dead body, the slaughter, all of it. It plays in your head like a nightmare before his force slowly withdraws.

Your body disobeys your mind as you twist to the broken man in front of you.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone.”

Walking over, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. His strong arms wrap around your waist as you chuckle softly.

“We’re both pretty fucked up, huh?”

“I guess we are,”

A knock on the door makes him suddenly disappear, leaving only the shape of him in your curled arms.

Warm water drips down your skin as you struggle to see through the steam in your small refresher. You reminisce on the months that had passed. What began as long talks across galaxies became long talks across bedrooms. You knew you had a job to bring him to the Dark side, how dangerous a connection to him could be. You repeated the mantra every night. Slipping on the silky robe you placed on the black marble counter, you walk out to your bedroom to find Anakin sitting upon the silk sheets.

His padawan braid was gone, his dull beige robes replaced by dark leather that showed off his frame quite well.

“I see they’ve let you graduate, Anakin.”

“Finally...”

“I told you that they wouldn’t understand your power, that they would hold you back,”

A scoff comes from the man, causing a smirk to come from you. Walking towards him, you gently lay a hand on his cheek where the smallest of scars lays on his handsome face. As you analyze his features, the way his eyes look at you full of lust and adoration, you slowly lay down, laying a gentle kiss on his plush lips. Your hands make their way into his hair as his hands pull you closer to him by your hips. Slowly, your lips break apart but still stay closer together, your mumbles tickling his lips with each word:

“You should grow out your hair, it would suit you,”

A soft smile, one that only you got to see (but you never knew that) appeared on his face as he gently pulls your hand away from his scalp.

“You flatter me too much,”

“Only because you deserve it.”

His gaze falls, guilt pushing his shoulders to cave in towards his chest. Your heart shakes, threatening to break. Taking a step back, you take a deep breath as you turn towards the doors of your refresher.

“You deserve the truth...” you whisper.

Slowly, you turn back towards him.

“I was tasked to bring you to the Dark side. Emperor Palpatine is part of the Sith, he is not who you think he is.”

His eyes widen at your sudden divulgence, only to be quickly filled with anger.

“So all of this time you’ve been manipulating me?!”

“No! Nothing I ever did was to manipulate you!” you walk closer to him. “Because I found not a broken boy but a strong man meant to carry out his prophecy. Please believe me!”

Anakin pushes you away with the Force, an evil glow filling his eyes. You had done your job, but never had you felt worse.

“Well, I guess you completed your task.”

And with that...he was gone.

#anakinskywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #jedi!reader #darksidereader #darkside!anakinxreader #unburnt!anakinxreader #skywalker x reader #starwars #star wars #star wars x reader

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criminalmindsismynextfoundfamily · 3 years

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Heyyyyy congratulations on 200!!!!! That’s amazing!!! I’ll do 🐬 and 🐳 both for hotch oops, and 💙 for (if I can use your example, I liked it haha) types of bread, 🦕 for CM season-long type characters, so like characters that were main characters, but weren’t on for very long, like Elle, Alex Blake, Kate Callahan, etc., 🦋 for JJ, and 💚 for what’s your favorite kind of weather and why?

I hope that wasn’t too many! If it was you can shorten it :) Congrats again, and I hope you have a great day! <3

thanks so much!!! it's not to much at all, I love answering asks 🥰

🐬: Send me a character and I’ll give you sad headcanons about them

Poor Hotch, all I do is make him sad...

Okay so we all know that Hotch's dad abused him. I think the tension we see between Hotch and Haley in the first couple seasons, about Hotch not being there for Jack, was 100% about Hotch's fear he was going to end up like his father. He subconsciously (or maybe consciously) distances himself from Jack at first because he's terrified of hurting this small fragile thing that they made, terrified of traumatizing Jack like his father did to him.

In revelations when Hotch asks the whole team to tell him his worst traits, he acts like he doesn't care, but I think their words stay with him for years. He repeats them in his head whenever he screws up, like a mantra to do better.

Hotch has long lasting damage to his ear after the explosion in Season 4. He didn't properly take care of it, or rest at all, so he definitely had some long lasting issues. Being deaf in one ear absolutely terrifies Hotch, when he was a kid he relied on his hearing to sense when his Dad was angry, and protect Sean. The first time someone effectively startles Hotch and comes up behind him without him noticing, it sends Hotch into a full blown panic attack.

🐳: Send me a character and I’ll give you happy headcannons about them

Okay I'll do happy headcannons related to the sad ones above, because hurt + comfort amirite

I think Haley and Hotch have similar dynamics to Penelope and Derek. When Derek says goodbye, Penelope says "You make me feel brave," and he responds, "You make me feel safe".

Hotch fell in love with Haley because she made him feel safe, even back in high school she would tenderly clean him up after a fight with his father. She was the first person he felt safe with. He and Haley eventually sit down and talk, Hotch confesses how scared he is of messing Jack up and Haley assures him that she knows he's a good father because he worries so much about messing up, "you worry because you care, silly".

After Mayhem, eventually the team figures out about Hotch's long term hearing loss, and do their best to help him out without making a big deal of it. Right after, JJ and Penelope will always leave him Advil on his desk after a case which they know has his ears ringing. In the field everyone always cover him on the side he has bad hearing. They all make sure to approach him so he can see them, or on his good hearing side so he can hear them. Spencer learns sign language and teaches it to Hotch. Hotch then teaches it to Jack, which catches on to Will and Henry as well, JJ learns for her kids, and eventually almost everyone on the team knows ASL.

🦕: Send me cm things and I’ll rank them

1. Elle Greenaway, I'm in love with her, and I feel like she was the only one they really showed having accurate trauma to the things they went through. I do have a problem with the glorification of her shooting the rapist, though. Obviously yes I don't really feel bad about her shooting a rapist, he's a rapist. But I'm not okay with it because of the power she held being a member of law enforcement, and how she abused that power and was allowed to quit without an investigation. Police brutality is never okay, even when it hurts the people we want to be hurt.

2. Kate Callahan, I loved her so much, she was such a badass and I loved her friendship with Morgan. She was an amazing mom, and I loved her goodbye hug to Hotch, he looks so touch starved smh

3. Alex Blake, she is so incredibly talented amazing, showstopping, intelligent. She's been through so much, and managed to keep a straight head, and even mentor Reid.

4. Stephen Walker, he deserved so much better I can't believe the writers did him like that.

🦋: Send me a cm character and I’ll tell you how I relate to them

I relate to JJ because I also lost someone close to me to suicide, and I think they handled that issue for her character really well. The guilt, the resurfacing memories of what things were up leading up to it, the realizations of all the things happening in their life you didn't know about.

💙: Send me a category and I’ll cast the bau ( I feel like that was confusing, but like I'll do bau as songs or like types of bread etc.)

okay I'm gonna do this in a separate post cause I think it'll get to long but I love this idea.

💚: Ask me anything about myself, and I’ll answer honestly

I love thunder storms, with super loud rain and wind and rumbling thunder. It's the most soothing weather to me and it puts me right to sleep. When I was younger my little brother was scared of thunder so he'd crawl into my bed and we'd stay up together so it brings me good memories. I also highly recommend lying on your back looking up at the sky during a thunder storm. It is so emotionally cathartic and a main character moment.

#sorry this was long #200 follower ask game #tw suicide mention #tw child abuse mention #tw police brutality mention

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moiraineswife · 3 years

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Jasnah Meta - The Importance of Context

AKA: PLEASE stop saying that Jasnah is pro-genocide when she is. Not. At all. In any way. Shape or form. Whatsoever.

TL;DR: Nowhere, at any point, in four ginormous books of text, does Jasnah ever say ‘you know what’s great? Genocide.’ She never even implies. It she never even actually, seriously, suggests it. Please stop saying she does as though it’s canon I lose 12 years of my life every time it’s mentioned.

AND NOW FOR THE LONG VERSION BECAUSE Y’ALL KNOW I CAN’T LEAVE IT AT THAT!!!!!

PLEASE NOTE! THERE WILL BE SOME MINOR RHYTHM OF WAR SPOILERS IN HERE. PLEASE AVERT YOUR EYEBALLS IF THIS IS A DISTRESSING CONCEPT TO YOU.

So first things first, let us discuss The Scene Itself:

“Yes. The answer is obvious. We need to find the Heralds.”

Kaladin nodded in agreement.

“Then,” Jasnah added, “we need to kill them.”

“What?” Kaladin demanded. “Woman, are you insane?”

“The Stormfather laid it out,” Jasnah said, unperturbed. “The Heralds made a pact. When they died, their souls traveled to Damnation and trapped the spirits of the Voidbringers, preventing them from returning.”

“Yeah. Then the Heralds were tortured until they broke.”

“The Stormfather said their pact was weakened, but did not say it was destroyed,” Jasnah said. “I suggest that we at least see if one of them is willing to return to Damnation. Perhaps they can still prevent the spirits of the enemy from being reborn. It’s either that, or we completely exterminate the parshmen so that the enemy has no hosts.” She met Kaladin’s eyes. “In the face of such an atrocity, I would consider the sacrifice of one or more Heralds to be a small price.”

“Storms!” Kaladin said, standing up straight. “Have you no sympathy?”

“I have plenty, bridgeman. Fortunately, I temper it with logic. Perhaps you should consider acquiring some at a future date.”

So the only time Jasnah actually brings up this concept it’s to, hyperbolically, point out that asking the Heralds to return to Braize and trap the Fused may not be the worst idea.

She’s not actually suggesting this as a valid or legitimate tactic. It’s to contrast the plan Kaladin just called her ‘insane’ for suggesting (I bet that’s gonna hurt a million times more than it already does in 900 years when we get Jasnah’s book and backstory but hey. Back on topic) and point out that, in the face of the apocalypse, this is the kind of level they have to think on.

I’ve already talked about the nuances of this scene at length here, so I’ll just do a quick summary: Jasnah is not as composed about any of this internally as she makes out to be - even what she suggests with the Heralds.

When we see her alone with Ivory, reading Taln’s repeated mantra, Ivory notes that she’s troubled. The words (and where he was/how he was being treated when they were recorded) is enough to trigger a twenty year old flashback in her.

This scene is one of the clearest moments (along with the Kharbranth thug scene, I suspect) where Jasnah’s outward projection of her internal feelings and thoughts least matches up with reality.

In spite of the inflammatory remark that sparks this all off, she doesn’t want to assassinate any Heralds. She quite clearly says she wants to “see if one of them is WILLING to return to Damnation.” She wants to have a conversation with them, understand the Oathpact, and see if any of them would consent to buying them some time. She is not suggesting they knife one of the Heralds in a back alley. That’s Moash’s job.

This is supported by what she does in canon. Jasnah is actually the one who recognises Taln and Ash and, somehow, manages to persuade them to join her at Urithiru and help. She treats them with nothing but dignity and respect in her scenes with them in Rhythm of War, and tries to find out more about the Oathpact and their options - as she said she wanted to do.

But since Jasnah is a Kholin, which means the ‘D’ in her DNA stands for DRAMA, she doesn’t say that, instead she says: “let us find the Heralds and kill them.” (I love her so much y’all. Ahem. Anyway).

But there’s method to this madness, too. Please click the ‘keep reading’ button to discover why! (have to turn my own posts into clickbait bc they’re so long I have to put in a cut to spare ur dashboards).

Jasnah likes to push people. She likes to force them to think, and consider all angles of a problem, and come to terms with their own thoughts and opinions. This is one of the things that frustrates Shallan about Jasnah in TWOK:

Shallan caught a victorious glimmer in her eye. She wasn’t necessarily advocating ideas because she believed them; she just wanted to push Shallan. It was infuriating. How was Shallan to know what Jasnah really thought if she adopted conflicting points of view like this?

-TWOK 36

Jasnah doesn’t want to brutally murder the Heralds and force them to return to their maddening idea of hell. But in phrasing it as she does, she can get an insight into Kaladin. Despite the fact we know him very well at this point, this is, this is the first time Jasnah has interacted with him on-screen, and only the second time she’s met him ever.

“That Windrunner. What do you think of him, Shallan? I find him much as I imagined his order, but I have only met him once. It has all come so quickly. After years of struggling in the shadows, everything coming to light—and despite my years of study—I understand so very little.”

Oathbringer, 33

Jasnah in that scene is deliberately being as exaggerated, ruthless, cold, and harsh as she can get away with. She’s trying to push Kaladin. She wants to bait responses from him, to get an idea of what kind of man he is, and what he stands for. She focuses entirely on him on that scene, and the reactions we as readers get see that as well.

“If you wish, Captain,” Jasnah snapped, “I can get you some mink kits to cuddle while the adults plan. None of us want to talk about this, but that does not make it any less inevitable.”

“I’d love that,” Kaladin responded. “In turn, I’ll get you some eels to cuddle. You’ll feel right at home.”

Jasnah, curiously, smiled.

Jasnah likes to be pushed as well. She likes to have people push back with her, and stand up for themselves, assert themselves, make their arguments. She all but encourages Dalinar to publicly do so in RoW.

Socially, in spite of Kaladin’s rank or status as a Windrunner, it’s probably 100% Not Acceptable to ask an Alethi princess if she wants a basket full of eels to cuddle because she is one, effectively. But Jasnah’s unphased - and even pleased - by Kal’s response. She likes that she’s seeing this from him, that he’s unguarded, and passionate, and more than willing to go toe-to-toe with her, which few people are.

Also, because I foresee potential problems in this meta that I would like to nip in the bud right now, I don’t think that Jasnah is doing this to play with people? That’s not really in her nature or who she is. There’s a purpose to everything she does, and there’s a purpose to her doing this, too.

With Shallan it was to encourage her to think for herself and form her own thoughts and opinions. Just before in that scene, Shallan asked why Jasnah couldn’t just tell her what to think and what was the right philosophy to have in life. Jasnah replied it was something she had to discover for herself - and that’s how she approaches all of their studies.

Jasnah never teaches Shallan what to think, or even what happened, despite that being the meat of her study. Instead, she teaches Shallan how to think, how to study, how to learn, how to critically reason, and how to form and argue her own thoughts and conclusions.

With Kal, I think it’s a quick and brutal way of quickly getting to grips with a new, very important, element in what’s going on in her world. Remember, too, that one of Jasnah’s most obvious aims, aside from protecting the world, is protecting her family. And Kaladin is very close to everyone that she loves and holds most dear, while she knows nothing about him.

However, something else that’s important to note, which, for me anyway, RoW all but confirmed: Jasnah has low cognitive empathy.

She’d come to realize, early in her youth, that she didn’t approach relationships the same way everyone else seemed to. Her partners in the past had always complained that she was too cold, so academic. That had frustrated her. How was she to learn what others felt if she couldn’t ask them?

Chapter 99 really was an absolute fucking gift, I mean really. Asexuality AND low empathy, all in one go. What a delight.

This little snippet can be read as her being asexual, potentially, but I actually think it reads more heavily and obviously about her being neurodivergent? And specially low cognitive empathy. Brandon says that, to him, Jasnah is not autistic spectrum, but you just keep giving me more evidence to say she is buddy!! Anyway. Diagnostic debates aside.

I would guess some of y’all don’t know what the heck I mean by ‘cognitive empathy’ (I didn’t before I researched all of this a couple of years ago).

There are two types of empathy, in strict psychology terms (and then there’s the colloquial way we use it to just mean ‘a good person with feelings’ which drives me BANANAS but that’s a rant for another day):

Affective empathy - which basically means ‘this person around me is happy/sad/excited, I am also now feeling that way. Because emotion is infectious like a cold! How thrilling’.

Cognitive empathy - is the ability a person has to pick up on/know what others are feeling without having to be told. Using tone/body language/facial expression etc etc. It’s something I, and a lot of other autistic people, are bad at.

So is Jasnah!

Her previous partners disliked her probably verbally vibe checking them every other week to find out where they were at. Jasnah was frustrated because how the heck else is she meant to know wtf?? What an absolute mood this woman is. Anyway.

This revelation/confirmation makes a LOT of Jasnah scenes make a lot more sense. Including: chapter 64, and her insistence, to the point of it almost being illogical, that she fight without her Surgebinding to try and get as clear a picutre of what her soldiers are facing as she can. Jasnah starts off that chapter by saying she’s never actually been in a war before, and states throughout that she wasn’t prepared for what it was actually like.

Her low empathy means that, without a personal context/experience to relate to and draw emotional experience from, she struggles to understand exactly what her troops are going through.

Obviously she knows that ‘war is bad, battles are scary and not fun’. But she has no way of emotionally relating/truly understanding what they’re feeling. This is one of the reasons I think it’s so important to her, despite Ivory’s chiding, to do it that way so that she can understand.

Similar thing is happening here with Kaladin. Jasnah struggles to instinctively Get Vibes from people, so she goes about things in a very scholarly way.

She does research and makes notes (see: her little folio on the highprinces (which, by the way, misses out on several important aspects of them Shallan picks up on pretty quickly by the power of Intuition), she asks questions - and she sets up scenarios that push people into blatant emotion so she can observe and get an idea of what makes them tick.

TL;DR TAKE TWO: Jasnah does not want to murder all of the Singers. Jasnah never says she wants to. Jasnah only uses it as a ‘see, asking the Heralds to go back to Damnation isn’t actually that bad now is it?’ hyperbolic counterpoint after Kaladin asked her if she was insane. Jasnah is not actually what she pretends to be in that scene. She is but a hapless gay who cannot detect emotions so she has to conduct her Vibe Checks differently from other people. She is highly valid in every way and i stan her.

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thecatboyfriend-moved · 4 years

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One More Time With Feeling

Summary: Logan gets tired of how the other sides treat him and now he lives off of Crofters.

Warnings: Swearing, slight crying mention, yelling, Virgil and Patton being pushy, Logan angst. Tell me if there’s anything I should add!

Word Count: ~1,880

Note: New AU timeeee!!!! Feel free to send in asks about this because I have a lot of thoughts about this AU.

———

After the events post-wedding, Logan goes back to his room. He had been in the living room with Remus and Virgil, watching the events unfold on the TV while he gave his facts from his laptop.

Deceit, or Janus as he learned, came in some way through, asking to take over. Logan, frustrated with the others’ lack of interest, agreed, practically throwing his laptop to Janus. He went to get some coffee and calm down but was called back when Janus left. He slammed his mug on the table, typing quickly before shutting the laptop and storming out.

He hurries into his room, shutting the door behind him. Logan takes a deep breath as tears gather in his eyes. He presses his back against the door and slides down to the floor, curling into a ball.

His own statement swirls through his head. “If the variety of generosity that you subscribe to leaves you feeling depressed or like your life isn’t your own, then you need to reevaluate things.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, trying his very best to get the thought out of his head. He isn’t depressed. He can't be, he doesn’t have feelings. Right? That’s been his mantra for a bit now.

Despite his best efforts to convince himself, he knows it isn’t true. He used to be so happy. He really was. Then things got more complicated and he was seen as less serious. So he tried to be more professional, he tried to forget it all and just be Logic.

But it’s not working.

They didn’t take him seriously when he was himself. And they aren’t taking him seriously now. So what’s the point?

What’s the point?

He lets his eyes open at that. Why does he have to be something he’s not when all it’s doing is hurting him?

Well, simple: he doesn’t. If he’s going to be seen as a joke either way, he may as well be able to laugh along.

Logan takes a deep breath, prying himself up off the floor. He stumbles a bit before righting himself and heading towards his dresser. He tears the tie off from around his neck, frowning at it. It was nice, he did like the colors. But it’s not right. It’s not the lighter blue he used to love, it’s not the soft fabric of his favorite comfort clothes he keeps hidden away. It’s not him.

So, he crumples it up and throws it across the room. He can’t help but let a smile appear on his face at that. Next goes his polo, with its logo he had loved but has grown to hate. He throws that somewhere to the other side of the room.

He digs in his drawers, throwing out extra polos and ties he despises as he tries to find his comfort clothes. His grin only grows when he finds his light blue sweater buried under his jeans.

He holds it for a moment, admiring the color that should have been his and the soft texture he never gets from his polos. He throws it on quickly. Once it’s on, he hugs himself, laughing a bit. It’s so much better.

He gets his jeans off, finding his sleep shorts and putting those on. It’s so much more comfortable and so much more him. It’s nice.

With the clothes now on, Logan goes over to his bed, letting himself flop onto it.

————————————————

He glances over at his desk, covered in schedules and binders and things he’d usually stay up late working on. But instead of dragging himself over to the desk and staying there until midnight—like he usually would—he summons his trivial pursuit book. He settles himself under the covers with the book, falling asleep soon after.

Logan wakes up to a loud knocking at his door. Groaning, he sits up. He tries to wipe the sleep out of his eyes but finds his glasses still on. He must have slept on his side because the glasses are bent. Sighing, he throws them off and onto the bed.

“It’s open, you know,” he yells at the door, which is still being knocked on. The knocking stops and the door opens, revealing a confused looking Patton.

“Hey, Lolo!” Patton says, letting himself into the room. He glances around, frowning a bit at the clothes thrown around. “Uh, what happened here?”

Logan pulls himself out of bed, stretching with a sigh. “Did you actually need something?”

“Oh, right!” Logan rolls his eyes, heading to his desk. “Well, you weren’t up yet, so I wanted to check on you!”

“I wasn’t aware I’m not allowed to sleep in,” Logan growls, digging through his desk drawers. He pulls a pair of round, thin-framed glasses out, sliding them on his face.

“Well, no, you are! You just never really do, so I was worried.” Logan snorts, going to the door and shoving past the taller side. He makes his way down the stairs, Patton following close behind. He can faintly hear the other chastising him, but he just keeps walking.

Logan walks into the kitchen, ignoring the looks Patton is giving him.

“Hey L,” Virgil says from his place at the table. Logan glances over at him before digging in the cabinet. “There’s already coffee made if you want some.”

Logan’s nose scrunches up at that. The others think he likes black coffee, which is far from true. He only agreed to drink it when Patton handed it to him one morning, apparently thinking he likes it. He’s drunk it ever since, trying his very best to ignore its bitter taste.

He ignores Virgil, pulling a jar of Crofter’s from the cabinet and leaving the door open. He can hear Patton hushedly talking with Virgil as he gets a spoon and retreats to the couch.

“Uh, Lolo?” Logan looks up from where he sprawled on the couch. Patton’s standing by the arm of the couch with a frown.

“What?” Logan drawls out. He pops the lid off his jar, shoving a spoonful of the jelly into his mouth.

“Isn’t it too early for jam?” Patton asks, laughing nervously. Logan rolls his eyes.

“It’s good and I like it, so fuck off.” He shoves another spoonful in his mouth, trying not to laugh at the way Patton gasps.

“Logan Sanders! Do not—,”

“You’re not my dad,” Logan says with a mouthful of jelly. He sits up more on the couch, summoning the remote. He holds the spoon in his mouth as he turns on the TV, still cradling the Crofters.

He can hear Patton huff, walking away. Logan turns on Sherlock, sinking further into the couch and eating more jelly.

Logan gets through about an episode and a jar and a half of Crofter’s before the couch is stolen from under him.

He stumbles, suddenly standing in Thomas’ living room. He finds Patton, Virgil, and Thomas staring at him.

“Y’know, you really should give me a warning or something,” Logan says. He finds the jam still in his hands, taking a bite of it.

“Logan, is something wrong?” Thomas asks, looking over Logan’s appearance warily. He’s still in his light blue sweater and shorts with his round glasses, an obvious difference to his usual attire.

Logan just laughs, waving his spoon accusingly at Thomas. “Y’all are so terrible, really. Like, I change into comfy clothes once and suddenly I’m treated like I’m sick.”

“No, you changed your clothes,” Patton begins listing. “Threw your other clothes around your room, cursed at me, and you’re living off of Crofters!”

Logan just deadpans at him, shoving another spoon of Crofters in his mouth. “Dunno whatcha mean, Pat.” He leaves his usual spot by the stairs, flopping onto Thomas’ couch. “Thomas, I’m stealing your couch. And your TV.”

He tries to resume his show, but Virgil is suddenly in front of the TV.

“Okay, enough of...whatever this is,” he growls. “What are you doing Logan?” Logan groans, loud and annoyed.

“Alright, you wanna know what’s wrong, Virgil?” Logan laughs back. “None of you give a shit!”

The three look surprised by that, quite obviously not knowing what to say. So Logan continues.

“You all act so goddamn ignorant! Like with Virgil!” Said side jumps a bit, narrowing his eyes as if he’s daring Logan to continue. “Oh, don’t act so innocent. You got us to accept you and sympathize with you, but that wasn’t enough! No, you didn’t want sympathy or any of that shit, you just wanted to be able to be a bitch without being called out!”

“Logan, that’s enough,” Patton says, joining Virgil by the TV.

“Oh, what? You want a turn?”

“Logan—,”

“No Patton,” Logan interrupts. “Because you’re the one that lets him! You act like he’s some pure innocent being that can do no wrong, but he’s not! He threatened me, and you didn’t do shit!”

Logan turns back to Virgil, grinning madly. “Remember that, Virge? That ‘I’m gonna prohibit your breathing’ bullshit? Because you bet your ass I do!”

Now Patton’s looking at Virgil with wide eyes. Virgil looks absolutely caught.

“Oh no, Pat, you do not get to act all sweet and innocent here,” Logan laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t hear him! And even if you didn’t, you’ve done shit too! Let’s see.” He stands, stalking his way over to Patton who starts backing up.

“You’ve made fun of me for my mistakes.” Patton bumps into the TV as Logan gets in front of him.

“You try to skip my words so you don’t have to hear what you’ve done wrong.” He jabs a finger at Patton’s chest.

“And you don’t take me seriously.” He hisses out the last sentence, stepping away from Patton.

“That’s the whole fucking problem here!” He yells, waving his arms as he talks. “You all refuse to take me seriously! You will humor everyone but me!”

Logan takes a breath, running a hand through his hair as he glares at Thomas. “Yes, I have made my own mistakes. I’ve let my temper get the best of me, I’ve been rude, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. But I only do those things when you all refuse to listen and when I’m at my limit.”

“Logan, buddy,” Thomas tries to interject, but Logan holds up a hand to stop him.

“No, Thomas. You aren’t innocent either. Sure, you haven’t done as much as they have, but you will still side with them over me. I still had to try and ignore my feelings and push away what made me happy, all so you would listen to me.”

Logan laughs, turning away from Thomas as he heads back to the couch. “Y’know, it really says a lot about you Thomas; the fact that your own Logic is feeling like this.”

Silence and guilt hang in the air as Logan picks back up his jar of Crofters, turning to the others.

“I’m done, I really am,” he sighs. “That’s what this is. I’m done putting on an emotionless facade to get you all to listen. Because you didn’t listen and I wasn’t happy. You’ve pushed me to my limit, and I’m done being ignored. You’re going to regret this.”

With that, he sinks out to his room, leaving the others to contemplate just what they’ve done.

#:D #send asks i wanna talk abt this au!!!!!!!!!#lyss writes #one more time with feeling au #sanders sides #logan sanders #feral logan #logan angst #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #janus sanders

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