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retrieve-the-kraken · 1 year

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Young Royals season 2 play-by-play analysis

This is where the season gets so fucking good I couldn’t even think properly, so this is where the “analysis” gets completely derailed and it’s just me going “AAAAHHH HNNNNGG OOOOOHH EEEEEEEEH SQUEEEEE” and just losing my shit over every single moment. The drama, the jealousy, the bottled up feelings, the tears, that kiss…

It was also so difficult to pick the gifs that I would be able to include in this post, because there were SO. MANY. MOMENTS. Thank you to all the people who constantly gif all these moments, for all the time and effort and quality (if there’s anything better than watching the kiss is watching every single part of the kiss on a loop, like I’m literally hypnotized).

EPISODE 4

“I don’t think Henry will snitch.” Oh Wille, you don’t know how gossipy boys are…

I hate that the girls are not only talking about Felice, but they’re not being discreet at all. Absolute bitches. Simon turns to look at Felice and smile. Is she the only person that Simon is friendly with in the choir? Poor Felice… (And how did he not hear the girls gossiping, if they’re being absolute bitches and talking way too loud?)

The first time Skott’s “Evergreen” plays and you realize that it’s about Sargust… uuuuurgh… and it never gets better… (the only thing that I will say about their relationship at this point, is that their first time together was very sweet and all about consent and protection, and I appreciate that, but… uuuuurgh, Sargust…)

Sara hearing about the rumours about Stella and Fredrika, and learning that Stella did not care at all. Stella, it feels to me, is being more and more open and rebellious, like if she gets found out because she said something then so be it, but not so about her feelings for Fredrika.

I like the girls’ way of being supportive, making fun of Felice in a harmless way, ensuring her that it’s not a big deal.

“But you should know that Felice only makes out with members of the royal family.” It’s like some sort of foreshadowing, now that Sara is technically with August and August is technically next in line for the throne.

“We should respect each other’s privacy!” Yes, Wille!

“So nobody was in your room yesterday?” FUCK YOU VINCENT, HE JUST FUCKING SAID… Fuck Vincent and his need to put people on the spot all the fucking time.

I hate that Wilhelm is so visibly uncomfortable, I hate that he’s obviously not wanting to share any more information because Simon is right there, I hate that Simon is obviously also uncomfortable and blindsided, and YET the boys just keep pushing the fucking subject. Toxic masculinity sheep mentality, dear god…

Simon didn’t end things with Marcus, and he knows that Wilhelm saw them kissing and probably felt horrible. Yet when he finds out that Wilhelm might have been with Felice, his first response is to seek out Marcus again… Poor boy doesn’t know what to do with his feelings.

“You wanna show me off to everyone there?” No, dumbass, just one person. Either Marcus is so dense that he really thinks he’s convinced Simon to want to be with him, or he’s so toxic that he thinks he’s already achieved it. Meanwhile Simon is still trying to convince himself that he can have a thing with Marcus, whatever it might be, a serious thing, a rebound, anything.

The burnball scene… still fucking gold. The seething look on Simon’s face, still so perfect. The force is strong with this one. Such a jealous, petty boy. I know I said that I wanted jealous Wille, which turned out to be exactly as I expected, a sad mopey mess; but I never expected jealous Simon, and I certainly didn’t expect this level of anger. Like Homer Simpson says “jealousy is when you worry someone will take what you have, envy is when you want what someone else has”. Whichever Simon might be feeling right now (pretty sure it’s jealousy, because he has not, as we have seen this whole season, been able to completely let go of Wille), I hope we get possessive Simon in the future. And I know it will be DE.LI.CIOUS…

(I want protective Wille and possessive Simon next season, pretty please.)

“You kinda have double standards.” Yes Wille, you tell him.

Simon’s little shrug when Wille asks if he and Marcus are official. Of course you don’t know, you’ve been gaslit into thinking you shouldn’t end things so quickly.

Fuck, Wille’s face when Simon admits that he can’t accept his family… it breaks me every time. He blurted it out, because he’s angry and jealous and confused, and he really means it, but as soon as he realized how much that revelation hurt Wille, he’s full of regret. There’s a horrible chasm between them, and Simon hates it. Star-crossed lovers…

The make up scene between Wille and Felice, oufff, makes me feel so much better. Poor Felice.

“Can you tell Simon that? That it can be a good thing?”

“Feels like I’m going to die… I have to let him go…” Poor baby. “Fun” fact: did you know that love is a form of chemical addiction, the main chemical being oxytocin, and that the sudden cutting off of the supply can give you withdrawal symptoms? That is why people feel physically ill when they’re heartbroken, it literally feels like their heart is breaking. Heartbreak also causes stress, which can have a real impact on a person’s physical health, and it can lead to depression, which increases a person’s sensitivity to pain and decreases their immunity. That’s why when Wille says he feels like he’s going to die, he’s so physically and mentally ill that it really feels like he’s dying. But letting go of Simon would be the beginning of his recovery, which would eventually happen… You can heal from a broken heart, but how long it takes depends on how deep or how long that love lasted. Meanwhile Simon is not entirely in physical pain, because he’s too busy trying and failing to distract himself/replace Wille with Marcus (placebo effect?) and also he has the advantage of having stolen Wille’s sweater to get a hit of oxytocin every once in a while (more on that in the next analysis). But Wille has it a little bit more rough. And the fact that Simon and Wille weren’t together for very long before they broke up, means that their love for each other was so deep and meaningful that it lead to profound heartbreak in no time at all.

That whole conversation with Nils. Nils is thinking about Wilhelm hooking up, whilst Wille wants something like what he had with Simon. Then Nils saying “one of us” again. Nils, just admit you want to bang him… Nils wants to take Wille to Verbier and present him with lousy options and for Wille to hopefully seek out the only person he actually knows over there… “Come on Wille, I got so many guys for you, so just pick me— I mean, pick one!”

(Would Wille have gone to Verbier if he hadn’t gotten back together with Simon at the end? Maybe, but he would’ve ended up in a room all by himself, crying over Simon).

Stella’s poem is so pretty and so sad… Then she immediately suggests to forego getting dates and for the girls to just go together to the ball. Sweetheart…

August’s face when he hears ‘military education’ and ‘next ten years’. Hmmm, not so into being next in line anymore, are you?

Sara just keeps hoarding secrets. The video, her relationship with August, and now August being the backup (and his use of ADHD meds even though he doesn’t have ADHD). She knows that going to the ball with August means that Felice and Simon will find out about them, and she knows they won’t be happy about it.

“Wille and I are just friends, and thank god for that, right? Dating someone in the royal family seems to suck ass.” Sara internalizing that information.

Wilhelm crying as he puts on the costume and makeup… my heart. I love Edvin’s explanation of it, how Wille is transforming into the image of the prince, even though he doesn’t want it, but he feels like he has no choice. This is after Simon told him that he can’t accept his role, this is after Nils told him basically that being out is a mess and that he should try to get with someone who is discreet. Poor baby is just so, so helpless.

Damn you August, being all sweet and romantic and making me feel bad about you… (Someone pointed out that the subtitles in english basically say that Sara tells him that she can’t go with him tonight, but what she really texts in Swedish is “we can’t be together anymore” or something along those lines… so she basically breaks up with him… over text. Even when it’s August, that’s got to hurt.)

Simon, what are you listening to whilst you stare intently at your fish?

By the way, this is the second time that Marcus just walks into Simon’s room uninvited. Asshole. He thinks he’s so smooth.

Never ever ever getting over Simon’s mischievous little look before saying “they don’t have names.” I need that on a t-shirt.

Felice looking FIYAH in her outfit and her natural hair. Love that she wanted to stand out but also feel like herself. More of this, please.

Is it me or did Wille take off the makeup? He doesn’t look particularly white-faced, like other people at the party.

Another secret for Sara’s hoard pile: Stella being in love with Fredrika. Poor Stella.

Simon going to the party with Marcus specifically to make Wille jealous. Meanwhile Wille is psyching himself to get over Simon, even if he’s miserable.

Marcus being like ‘you can stay at my place tonight, if you want’, and Simon automatically responding ‘okay’ because he’s not really paying attention, or he’s just going with it, he can say no later. And Marcus trying to get his attention by kissing him. Marcus, just give up, dude. You’re not it. You never were, never will be.

Alexander, who dislikes August so much for the way he treated him when he was prefect, and then for (as far as he knows) blaming the drug thing on him, rubbing it in that Felice and Wille are supposed to be together. Alexander you’re better than that.

But August telling Alexander the truth is one of the few moments in which August is honest, but for the wrong reasons. Just August being August, really. Stirring up shit (all because he’s miffed that Sara went to the ball without him). (Well, after learning that she actually broke up with him over text, I realize now that he’s a little bit more than just miffed.)

Wille psyching himself to be nice to Marcus, be all polite and show Simon that everything is cool, that they can just both move on… it’s so painful to watch, probably as painful as it was for him.

Simon asking “what was that? It seemed weird,” and then being unable to look at Wille, he’s acknowledging that he doesn’t like it, Wille being nice to Marcus, Wille acting like it’s no big deal, Wille being willing to move on too. He’s acknowledging that it feels weird to be strangers from now on. Simon being weirded out, like that’s it? No jealousy, no seething, nothing…? Baby, it’s what you wanted, or thought you wanted… There’s an ongoing debate about whether Simon wanted Wille to fight for him or not, like that’s why he’s so disconcerted when Wille is so polite. But he comes to learn that Wille is not like that, and that Wille is ready to put Simon’s wants before his own. And if that means letting him go, then so be it.

Meanwhile Simon’s facial expression, as it’s been pointed out, screams “shit fuck that did not go according to plan”. And Omar acts it out masterfully. (You can hear his brain short-circuiting, you can see the color draining from his face, you can feel the cold shiver going down his head and neck and back. “You don’t love me anymore”. Warning! Danger! Abort! Abort!)

His little smile and attempt at nonchalance, trying to pretend that everything is fine… but he’s literally hyperventillating. You can almost hear his heart thumping in his chest.

And baby Wille rushing out because he’s about to burst into tears… because he’s physically in pain… he can’t breathe, his legs don’t work properly… my heart…

August complaining that Sara seems like she only wanted to sleep with him. Self-worth issues, self-image issues… Sara saying that she doesn’t want things between them to end up like Simon and Wilhelm. “I’m not like Wilhelm, okay?” (Yes, you’re right about that, you are not like Wilhelm, Wilhelm would never.) But he doesn’t know what she’s actually referring to. She means that maybe being with someone from the royal family is too messy, and she would end up heartbroken, but he probably thinks she means something else. To him Wilhelm is the problem, because he’s not committed to his role as Crown Prince, he doesn’t want it enough, and August wants it so bad. What could possibly go wrong with that? What could Sara possibly be afraid of? He doesn’t get it. He also doesn’t understand that Wille is in love with Simon, he probably thinks that Wille is only mad about the video because it was a betrayal, because it outed him to the world, but Wille is also mad that this ruined his relationship with Simon too.

“Are you nervous?” “What?” Simon snapping defensively because he thinks Marcus is referring to what Simon is actually nervous about, that he’s seen through him.

“I’m just going to check something with the choir,” he lied dishonestly with his lying face. But if he had said he was going outside to get some fresh air or something, Marcus would have offered to come with him. Clever.

“I’m just trying to move on,” sounds like he’s saying it as much for himself as for Wille, like he’s trying to convince himself. He wants Wille to tell him “no, please, don’t move on”, but Wille is still set on letting him go, even though it makes him physically ill.

Why did he step into Wille’s space? Because it’s like magnetism, he can’t help himself, he can’t keep away. He’s saying one thing and doing another, because he’s short-circuiting. “This whole thing between us got so messed up,” he says right in Wille’s face, he’s so conflicted. He shouldn’t want this, he shouldn’t be so desperate for it, this can’t work… but the heart wants what the heart wants.

That kiss… that kiss belongs in every list of the best kisses of all time. Enough has been said about the kiss, so, let’s just watch it eight(y) times in a row and then let’s continue.

(Just an additional thought, Wille needs to take a moment because he can’t believe what just happened. He can’t even feel his face. He can’t believe it worked, he thought he’d really lost Simon. It turns out it’s true: if you love someone, let them go, and if they come back they are yours. He can’t believe it happened in less than five minutes. This has been a real rollercoaster of emotions.)

And then Marcus knows. Marcus looks sad, but you know what? Fuck Marcus. Fuck him for not letting Simon go when Simon wanted it. (But then maybe this was the way that everything needed to happen, for Wille to come to this realization that if he really loved Simon he had to let him go. And maybe Simon had to continue thinking that he could power through until he felt something for Marcus for him to realize that it’s pointless, that he was lying to himself as well as everyone around him, that he only wanted Wille.)

Wille really trying not to smile like an idiot. Because he’s so happy to have been kissed by Simon again, because he has hope again, and because Simon is singing… it a bit like the first time he saw Simon, and Simon was singing, and Wilhelm smiled for the first time in so long…

And Simon can barely contain his love, his relief, his joy at that moment. It’s the little half-blink for me that kills me every time.He has to look down, because if he keeps looking at Wille his face will betray all those feelings. Also he’s so pretty‼

(This whole episode was all about Wille realizing that he needs to let Simon go, to put Simon’s feelings ahead of his own, even if it’s at the cost of his own happiness; and about Simon coming to terms with his true feelings, with realizing what he really wants, despite what everyone else tells him he should do or feel. And when those two things combined… magic and beauty).

This episode was brought to you by JEALOUSY ™.

#young royals #young royals season 2 #young royals s2 #young royals analysis #young royals thoughts #wilmon #wilmon endgame

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coyoxxtl · 9 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/coyoxxtl/726754829755678720/does-anyone-have-legit-criticisms-about-aotd-or?source=share

The only criticism I have honestly, is the retcon of them learning to be better people in Doomstar. But it's a continuity thing for me.

You guys finally learned to do something kind for others towards the end of that movie but you went back to being assholes to your fans again AOTDS?

The same thing that got ya'll into this mess in the first place?

Also, my expectations were a little bit blindsided by what they would do here.

I was expecting more lore about Murderface here and maybe some diving into their past as Dethklok was starting, but it's nothing too bad.

i still need to rewatch aotd several more times its not embedded in my head yet so i wouldn’t consider my thoughts and crits Completely formed

mmbut i wouldn’t necessarily call that a retcon, bc i don’t consider that lesson to be fully Learned in doomstar requiem? what they learned, mostly, is that they’re a family and YES they actually care about each other. and that’s not even something they didn’t know but they consistently deny it, and don’t take that love seriously enough to express it in any meaningful way. and thats just amongst themselves, they still didn’t learn to rid their harbored resentment for their fans, who they infamously hate and barely consider people. to me this movie was literally about the continuing the lesson from the first movie, they learned to care about each other now they have to extend that out to their fans. im p sure this is what the whole “open hand” thing is about, also why the fans were the army of the doomstar all along, dethklok is now a part of them, not against them.

also, personally i think there was just enough Murderface, his whole possession deal was around for as long as it needed to, and their connection with him afterwards was very sweet, “but you can’t even hear the bass” ”but you can always feel it” was so beautiful it stuck w me lol

like ofc i can always appreciate more lore and backstory but i consider that fanservice and wasn’t something i was seriously expecting to be included because every second of this movie needed to be dedicated to wrapping up the story. i don’t doubt brandon small and the other show runners wanted to do more and give us the fun extra juicy bits but i can tell they written the movie to be tight with nothing wasting narrative space. the lame thing about being a creative is knowing when something is unnecessary for the story even if it’s interesting. i heard that brandon small is thinking about continuing metalocalypse so hopefully we get to see stuff like that in the future i want that too😭

#ask #metalocalypse #aotd spoilers

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golbrocklovely · 11 months

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omg ngl this is the best song kat has released yet

and for the record i wholeheartedly believe kat has the right to make this song. i mean for the past 7 years (or 6 idk exactly how long they’ve been together) kat, and sam too, were under the impression that they were going to last forever. i mean up until they had a conversation early in 2023 did sam break the news that he wasn’t feeling the same way as her so me personally, i feel she has every right to feel blindsided

she has the right to feel hurt about the breakup just like sam does. they’re both hurting in different ways.

kats in her taylor swift era lol

this mini rant is only directed at people who i see are mad at kat for expressing herself

i think i will use this as my post to talk about the song and what i think about it so if this is super long, my bad lol

as for what you said in your ask, i wouldn't say this is kat's best song. personally i will always think her best song is 'blue roses' and 'gone'. i fuck with both of those songs heavy lol

i'm gonna break down this into two parts: first, what this song is talking about, what this entails for the fandom, all that stuff. and then second, that'll be how i feel about the song on a technical stand point (like how it sounds, the lyrics, ect).

i want to make it very apparent that kat has EVERY RIGHT to write this song and release it. she was in a relationship with this man for seven years, she has every right to talk about it as much as she wants, especially while it is so fresh and new. i've already seen sam fan accounts on twitter losing their minds about it and all i got to say to that is TOUCH GRASS. quickly. lol

you are not involved in their relationship, as much as the parasocial bond says otherwise. you don't get to dictate who says what. no one's policing you when you shit talk your exes, don't do it for others. and bffr, if sam came out with a video talking about "oh, i didn't love kat's jealousy" or whatever about the relationship, yall wouldn't say he shouldn't do that. you would eat it up. so, be quiet. just bc it paints your fav in a "bad light" doesn't mean it shouldn't exist.

as for the song, she doesn't even say anything all that bad ! she could have been way harsher and meaner, and she wasn't. all she really said is that he changed up on her and she didn't like that. however, i'm gonna say a controversial opinion that could possibly get me hate: how did sam blindside her? for YEARS this man talked about not wanting to marry until he was in his 40s, or late 30s at least. now, there is a ton we don't know and never will (and i'm not asking for them to share anything they don't want to). but based on what i have seen with my own eyes in videos, he has never changed that stance. so…. when she finally asked him about marriage, did she think he was fucking with her all this time about not wanting to get married until he was old? i'm just a bit confused.

if i'm allowed to speculate, what i think happened is that sam promised and planned to eventually get married to her, but again - not until he was way older. and every year, i think kat would hint at wanting to get married and he would just kinda push it off and say "we'll talk about it later". and after years of her asking, sam finally was just like "i don't think it's right for me to keep you here where you can't get what you want". and that's why things might feel blindsided to her. bc while he had plans, he didn't follow thru when time finally came bc he himself wasn't ready and she was. and if that's what happened, i get why she might feel blindsided. but then again, sam was telling you the whole time who he was so… you can't be surprised when he says "no i was being serious".

but again, that's just my assumption. i don't know what happened between them, please don't get upset with me for an opinion that is unfounded. take me with a pinch of salt and nothing more.

now for the technical aspect of the song: her vocals are great. they always are. my one little gripe, or really want, with her is that if she does plan to do these pop/rock songs, you gotta add some grit to your voice. her voice is too clean to be singing songs that are supposed to be heavier. but that's also just a personal preference of mine.

the lyrics i think are telling but a bit clunky at times. it doesn't flow as well as it could. i think one more write thru would have been better.

and i will have to say this until i'm blue in the face but DEAR GOD ABOVE make the vocals louder than the music !!! why is this a reoccuring issue with her songs? i understand it's a producer thing, so it's not really her fault. but i swear at times the background vocals were louder than her main vocals. it's very weird to me that i can separate the music from the vocals, turn the music down just a bit, and make the song better imo.

also, idk if it's my ears or my age or what, but please enunciate. like half of the chorus i have no clue what she said and i'm just assuming lyrics so… idk.

(and before anyone gets on my case, i literally went to college for performing arts and music. i've been around musicians all my life, and have been singing since i was four. i know what i'm talking about to some degree. also i'm allowed to have an opinion you don't agree with. and none of this is directed at the anon, just in general to anyone reading in case someone really feels the need to chew me out.)

#ask #personal #sg ll

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bharatiya-naari-sab-pe-bhaari · 2 years

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since i saw you opened requests for severus x reader and since i like your writing style i thought about something. how would severus help you regain your memory after an accident? assuming no memory charm was involved, only plain and old amnesia. like the last years of your life, including the relationship with severus, are erased from your memory and he tries to help you remember.

A/N:- This became more angsty than I expected. Kind of has an open ending. Don't know if this was exactly what you wanted but sometimes my pen runs away with me. Remembrance

You looked at the raven haired man in front with a healthy interest which was somehow uncharacteristic of you. He had a stately demeanour which appealed to your subtle tastes very much. Your vision was arrested immediately to his long elegant fingers which curled gracefully around the porceline tea cup. His nose was rather dominating but you thought it made his sharp features look rather distinguished.

All in all he was quite an unconventionally striking man. A light blush graced your cheeks instantly and you chided yourself mentally for having inappropriate thoughts about the Professor.

That was how you addressed him.

The Professor.

Not only because he actually is a Professor but because somehow you thought there was some significance to that title and you had been curious at how he had reacted when you had first used it; like a dear caught in headlights. Which was kind of strange as you have remembered him and his rather stern and characteristically mean personality defining his every move

"So how are you faring? The people in Whitehaven have taken to you yet?"

He asked softly, breaking your internal musings.

"Ahh.. yes. Yes. I mean, it was kind of weird how they seem to behave as if they already know me. The children specially, you know.. they looked ecstatic for some reason. Not that I didn't like it. In fact I loved it. I love working there. It gives me some strange sort of contentment."

A flash of pain seemed to flit through the Professor's normally stoic features momentarily blindsiding you from the current conversation. This reaction was oft recurring and you had no idea what phantom ache the man was dealing with. He had, after all been severely injured in the last battle as you had read in the papers. You could see the traces of the horrific wounds littered like a terrifying pattern on his pale skin at the neck extending till his jaw.

That must have been very painful.

You resisted the sudden insane urge to trace the scars with your fingers. An inexplicable want to soothe any lingering agony there.

"I see. Good. You need to be in the helm of things again..."

There was that awkward silence again which forced your mind to scrutinize the past three months of your convalescence carefully. You knew you had lost chunks of your memory of the past few years and that somehow you had made friends with the most terrifying Professor of Hogwarts. But for Circe's sake could you understand why and how?

And you hated how people were walking on eggshells around you as if you were a fragile piece of glass and would break at the slightest pressure.

"Tell me Professor, how come we became such good friends? I know maybe I have lost a few memories due to the accident but... it seems impossible how I feel a distinct lack of urge to tear your head off, the moment I see you which is saying something."

You joke, recalling both of your legendary animosity towards each other at the beginning years of working in Hogwarts. To your delight, you see his thin lips curl up at one corner in a semblance of a smile. And in that glee of amusing him you miss how his onyx eyes droop at the corners in a tragic parody of pain.

"Quite an accomplishment in your part as I am daily reminded... Professor Y/N L/N"

How can your name sound so right and at the same time so wrong in his surprisingly delectable voice. It made an involuntarily shiver run down your spine yet you could discern the almost physical ache of something lacking.. like a missing limb. As if your name was incomplete and that was making your entire being jolt in an unknown and inexplicable agony.

"How is the school? The students? I heard the board has approved to reinstate you as Headmaster? I believe, congratulations are in order."

"No! I mean thank you but.. no... I don't deserve that position however much Minerva and that impudent Potter brat deem to think so."

"Professor please. It was not your fault. The Headmaster didn't give you any other choice. You took that whiplash on your soul for the safety of the students, for the school. I could think no better man for that position."

You saw him gazing mournfully and somehow even intently at your hand which you had put over his on the top, of the table, in the middle of your conversation, without you even noticing. You jumped slightly and removed your offending appendage off his hand knowing how he hates human contact.

His eyes shifted to your face and you could detect the fight leave him. You felt your stomach drop in that familiar sensation; like your subconsciousness is trying to make you aware of something which your brain still hasn't caught up with. You had no idea how to behave with the Professor so that you don't do anything inappropriate. But however much you tried, all you seemed to be able to do, was hurt him.

"Professor I..."

"I got something for you. And the children"

He conjured up a bouquet of beautifully coloured flowers and a huge box of Honeydukes's best caramel filled dark chocolates. Your favourite type of sweet.

The caramel is your sweet centre which remains hidden beneath the dark chocolate coating. Only the brave and the worthy would dare take a bite of that, relishing the bitterness and the sweet and salty middle, with equal fervour.

How did he even know?

"Oh! Oh these are so pretty and the children would love the chocolates. Thank you Professor. So thoughtful of you."

Touching the delicate petals of the magnolia flowers in the bouquet brought sudden disconnected flashes of memories inside your heady mind.

A full moon night, a greenhouse, stained glass, holding hands, citrus, spice, smoke and oak moss assailed your senses, rough yet gentle hands, scarred pale flesh, insistent lips, needy moans, desperate groans, clutching, grabbing, scrambling to gain a grip on reality.

Magnolia representing nobility, perseverance, dignity, gentleness and all things feminine.

You inhaled their fresh fragrance and felt a smile tugg your lips up painfully.

"I love these flowers. H..have I..we ever.. I mean do you know if I have ever..."

The dark eyes followed the changing emotions on your face with a careful yet kind gaze; a strange emotion brightening the ever dank corners. You sighed tiredly as those sudden memories washed away and faded like the sand would on a wet sea shore.

"Never mind. Must have been a hallucination."

The proud line of his shoulders dropped considerably and the Professor suddenly looked aside, blinking furiously. You felt like you have done something terrible and a lump stuck in your throat unwarranted.

"Y/N I was thinking if you would like to visit the school sometime. I.."

"Y/N!!! There you are! I have been.. oh! Oh.."

You looked up at the sudden jubilant shout and felt warmth blast in your chest at the familiar sight and a brilliant smile lit up your face like a thousand moons. The unease which was ever present in the company of the man seated in front blew away like dust in the wind with the gregarious Gryffindor's approach.

"Sirius! Come here! I was waiting for you."

You jumped up from your seat and hugged the tall brunette tightly. As you had your face smashed against your lover's chest you missed the almost guilt stricken look the scion of the most noble and ancient House of Black gave the frozen Slytherin.

"Hey love! Having fun?"

"Yes. I was having tea with the Professor here. Why don't you join us?"

You asked happily, eyes glittering with love as Sirius Black pushed the strands of your hair off your face tenderly.

"I don't think that would be..."

"Nonsense! I..."

The sudden scraping of a chair against the marble floor of the roadside cafe' grated unpleasantly in the surroundings making a few other patrons look up from their Sunday papers to stare at them.

Severus Snape suddenly looked slightly ill.

His usual pale skin had suddenly taken a waxy ashen pallor and his breaths sounded strangled. You raised a hand to touch his shoulder, alarmed at the vicious change.

"Professor! Are you quite alright?"

He shifted out of your grasp which stung a bit but he did look like he was trying not to break out in a panic attack in the middle of muggle London.

"I am feeling a bit under the weather. It'll be fine. Too much sun. I will take your leave now Madam. It was... nice seeing you."

His words sounded like it was coming out of an automaton. Like he had practised the same in front of a mirror. You felt a weird sense of foreboding as if something will go on to be terribly wrong in the very near future and you gritted your teeth in the frustration in the face of your complex perplexity and subsequent emotional turmoil. The healers at St Mungo's had said that it was a normal reaction for patients with amnesia.

As you watched the tall man walk away, his black trench coat flapping at his heels like the wings of a raven till he mixed into the crowd and vanished into the mass of the general Londoners, you felt another bout of a strong urge to run up behind him and throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

A phantom pain tore through your chest, ripping away at the flesh of your heart as your sad gaze fell on the abandoned bouquet on the checked red and white table cloth.

A few lone gladiolus flowers were peeking from the mass of the magnolia.

Gladiolus for strength of character, faithfulness and remembrance.....

#severus snape #harry potter fandom #snape fandom #pro severus snape #prosnape #asks #severus x reader #sirius x reader #remember #my asks #angst

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madillhethen · 2 years

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Ok, I’ve been posting rather negative stuff for the LB/Crypters lol so I thought I would post something more positive since I’m about the halfway mark (I guess? LB2 and LB3 feel relatively short compared to 1 and what I know of 5) and some opinions have changed since the last I posted about the Crypters.

Beryl: I hate him still. I do think the writers did an amazing job in making us know so little of him and still making him relatively...disliked? At least the people I know don’t like him.

Daybit: he hasn’t given me any information to hate him but also none to love either. He’s pretty enigmatic to me so he’s neutral.

Wodime: (I swear I keep forgetting how to spell his first name so it’s either going to be written as Kirsch or Wodime in my blog) he’s in a similar boat as Daybit except I do have information on him--he has done actions that are admirable but I’ve yet to see who he is actually and for me that’s a lot more important. As of now, he feels like how Saber was in FSN, where the hype is there, the greatest ideals and everything has happened, and everyone admires/loves them for one reason or another. How great of a leader someone is doesn’t exactly tell me who they are so I’m still on the fence with him but he’s slightly going up.

Kadoc: I think someone mentioned one manga doing more for him as a character, and I know a lot of people love him from spoiler territory which I didn’t touch. I think I like him enough as a person from what I saw. He’s relativably human and his relationship with Anastasia was cute. But I want to see the aftermath of it all. He kind of feels like he hasn’t changed much? But I don’t know if he’s grieving or something or blaming himself, I just want to see the development and effect Anastasia had on him which I think will be explored later.

Akuta/Yu Mei-Ren: I hardly consider her a Crypter because of what I know. But I love her. She’s great. Summer Camp really solidified it for me. Every time she came sure it was a bit whiny and comical, but she was really kick a the entire time too. She was a stellar example of someone Mash and Guda could look up to especially with everything that has happened, someone who has endured lamentations and loss for so long, and just seeing her being very human despite of it, it just feels right. In LB3 she was really mysterious for the most part, but her elusiveness to the entire situation is what makes her stand out too.

Pepe: gosh, I don’t know but I think Pepe could wind up my favorite or being very close to it. I barely know anything about him, but his compassion and uplifting personality easily makes him more interesting--at the same time, he has a twinge of what seems to be mischief imo. The fact that all the Crypters are warring with each other, and everyone is just ‘I’m doing my job’ not concerned with anyone else (because they’re technically enemies) and here comes Pepe just...checking in on them? Making sure they’re ok, and actually saddened when he can’t get ahold of them or when Ophelia actually dies. The fact he called Ophelia for no reason, just to check in, that’s just so sweet, and so human, and unexpected but not unwelcomed.

Ophelia: gosh, I never really expected but Ophelia as of now is my favorite Crypter. When she first appeared, I was just ‘oh here we go. Another pining girl with the theme of love who can’t get the guy but might wind up doing so’ except the more I learned about her, the more I felt she was really relatable in a sense. (Not the pining part) but the fact she kept pressuring herself to be an exemplary magus, an exemplary person, stubborn and blindsided by the need to be somewhat perfect, she failed to see the possibilities (despite her Mystic Eye) and even when she cut off all possibilities, she lacked the resolve, but during LB2 we see her growth. The fact she wanted to be friends with Mash was really cute too. And in the end, she might not have lived up to anyone’s expectations, maybe not even her own, but she got to move the stagnant world, she didn’t betray Mash or Wodime, and she let herself be happy and at peace with the decisions she made. She saw everyone’s possibilities, and their convictions and strengthened her own, and I really loved seeing that. And I loved seeing her have this air of the noble magus, and aloofness but in reality she was just a sweet person--she was one of the first people who cared for Mash.

When she died, God, I had to do a doubletake because I really thought she would...last longer? Appear again? But she didn’t and it was really sad. (I’ll post some stuff in my LB2 review because I was confused on some things as well...)

#Mad's fgo #fate grand order #fgo #ophelia phamrsolone #akuta hinako #kirschtaria wodime #daybit #beryl #I don't know their last names lol #kadoc zemlupus #scandinavia peperoncino #crypters #lostbelts #I don't know what the general perception of the Crypters are or if people even love Ophelia #I know a lot of people love Kadoc and Wodime (of course the pretty boys)#but I don't see anyone talk of Ophelia :( but that's ok I love her

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onrainynights · 5 months

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journal entry. June 26th 2023. this is what I'm glad to leave behind this year. (cw self harm and suicidal ideation)

I've been having a hard time over the past few weeks. despite having down time on the weekends, I find myself feeling similarly to back in middle and high school—dreading the next morning, pretending it's not going to happen, etc. On Friday I had a really bad meltdown at work and hurt myself. it was really dark. I thought I broke my hand. I found myself in a state of thinking the pain was good, that I needed it to stay composed, and would hit my hand hard again whenever I felt the pain—and my composure—fading. at one point I thought that if I'd had a knife, I would've stabbed myself with it.

mom didn't seem to care. she blamed me for it. it just made me feel worse. I needed this weekend to emotionally reset, and physically heal a bit, but now I just feel raw and horrible and like I'm back in 8th grade. a month ago I almost looked forward to work each day. now it's a nightmare. nobody prepared me for what it would become and now they're blaming me for being blindsided by it. part of me wants to just keep going out of spite, but another part doesn't know how I'm gonna eat lunch at his house every day and pretend like nothing is wrong. I think I'll take my lunch in the shop, at least for a little while. I don't think it's wise for me to force myself into social situations if it's not necessary. I'll need the time away from people to calm down.

I finally see the appeal of self-harm. it scares the shit out of me but it also made me feel so much better. the physical pain was like an emotional painkiller. not sure how that works, but it did.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to listen to music and podcasts tomorrow like nothing is wrong. what if roger wants to train me tomorrow. fuck. I don't wanna talk to him. I think I'd stutter if I tried.

I wish people didn't have to know me. I wanna be a stranger to everyone, always. I never wanna meet new people ever again. god. I was happy. I was so happy but it never lasts and now I'm worse than I've been in a while. I hate when I get back to this place. I wish people understood me. I wish I had something concrete I could point to as a reason why. but I don't. wish I could just break both my legs and be bedridden for months. I need therapy. but I don't have health insurance and I definitely can't afford to pay for therapy out of pocket. let alone actually get to appointments. teletherapy is still a hard no. can't risk anyone overhearing. I'd talk about her eventually and someone would hear and my life would blow up and that's the worst-case scenario. worse than a brain tumor and 6 months to live.

at least it'll be over soon. the work stress I mean. at soonest, early August will calm things down. at the latest, the job ends in October or November. at least come 2024 I'll know I'm never coming back to this hellhole. I'd rather go back to retail for less pay than have a repeat of the last week. and I don't know if worse is yet to come

maybe I'm being a bit superstitious but I don't think I'll ever say "I will" again when someone tells me to have a good day. it just seemed to backfire.

can't end the day disappointed if you don't start it with expectations of anything

The day is the day, can't be bad or good or nothing. It just is.

I wanna sleep for a year. I wanna not die but not live through what's coming for me. I feel like I did so long ago and I hate it. I hate this. Someone give me some god damn antidepressants or something. Everyone in this fucking family is medicated and therapized except for me, why am I the exception? why do I have to fend for myself when nobody ever taught me how? I think id be more stable if I was homeless. at least then I'd know never to expect anything good

And there it is again, the urge to run away. seems like the happy medium until I remember my family would worry and I'd have to get rid of my phone, and I'd have shit food, and who would take care of Henry if I was gone? nobody. and I couldn't take him with me.

I'd miss him and Bella to much

They're the reasons why I haven't done it yet

I think I'd have killed myself if not for that cat or that girl. he'd die without me, and my heart breaks at the thought of never seeing her grow up, of her never really knowing me. wouldn't even have a memory.

but how am I supposed to endure this? just the thought of going back makes me want to destroy myself. makes me want to be invisible again. I was invisible once. nobody knew or cared who I was or what I thought or what I could do. I was one of hundreds, unimportant, like a little ant in a whole colony. and here I am now just holding on to these routines I've built myself, tracks for my trolley to run on, grooves carved carefully and deliberately over time until they're so deep I can't climb out of them unless pulled out by something external—and when a vulture grips my shoulders and tumbles me out I can do nothing but watch and lash out but there's no one to hurt but myself, the vulture is gone, and I am broken by my own hand. I look ahead to my grooves and they've been destroyed, washed away by my tears, and I am starting over because I have no other choice. but my grooves are gone and so I don't know where to go or what to do. how did I make those grooves in the first place? what did I use? I used this shovel, I think, but I can't find it now. the vulture took it. I am back on flat ground where I began and I am lost. the vulture wants me to follow him, to fly, but I can't make new grooves in the sky. I need grooves. I need grooves. trolleys aren't supposed to fly. they'd crash and break and take people down with them. I'm not afraid. I just know better. I walk in a direction, I don't think it's the same one as before. I don't recognize that tree. but I keep walking until I'm back where I started. and then I keep going, tracing over my own footprints. and again. and again. and again and again and again again again again again and I walk in the grooves and I push my trolley with everything I need and everyone I love and it's ok, finally okay.

and then I remember the vulture.

#tw self harm #tw suicide #for context I wrote this after the worst public meltdown I've ever had. it resulted from my boss criticizing my work routine which #he previously allowed me to develop and had no complaints about. he forced me to completely abandon my routine #and I had to create a new one completely from scratch during the busiest month of the season #I did end up staying out of spite #but this specific experience was horrible and made me feel some pretty nasty things #ok to rb if u want lol

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

Past and Future

Horrortober Day 2: Decision | “It’s your decision. Choose wisely.”

Day 2 woop! Got a chance to work on my Kazuha a bit more. I hope to write for him more in the future!

Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Stalking Mention Characters: Kadehara Kazuha x Reader

Kazuha couldn’t not notice the yearning in your gaze as you looked across the plaza at your old friends. These scumbags. Wannabe goody-two-shoes. Oh, how much he despised them. And yet, you longed for their laughter in your ears, the wrinkles in their eyes as they grinned and smiled at each other cheerfully. They were celebrating something Kazuha didn’t know about. But undoubtedly, you remembered after having been close to them since early childhood.

And yet, you didn’t belong to their circle anymore. You hadn’t been invited to wine and laughter, food and celebration. Instead, you absentmindedly squeezed his hand tighter, and Kazuha took that as a sign. “Come on,” he mumbled, watching how sadness overcame you with every passing second. Frustration and anger, but mostly disappointment, snaked their way into your expression. You had been so excited for today, going out with him, exploring Liyue Harbor with your boyfriend, but the mood was ruined now.

When you didn’t react, Kazuha used his free arm to lay it around you, pushing you forward despite your feet being unwilling to move. Part of you wanted to go to your friends, to join them in their festivity. But without being invited, you were way too hesitant to approach, and it hurt you even more. Your head hung low as you two finally disappeared in the crowd of people working and shopping, the night market making for a great scene. Still, you couldn’t take it in anymore after remembering your past heartbreak now.

Kazuha wasn’t the type to leave you alone, never wishing to be separated from the warmth and comfort you gave him by being by his side, but in your depressed state, it was hard to do anything with you. Placing you on a bench, Kazuha left to get you something to drink. His mind was wrecking itself of how to help you as he bought your favorite, seasonal beverage, still hot and steaming in its cup, and brought it back to you.

Unfortunately, no one heard the clattering sound as he dropped it, watching you talk with some of your old friends. When did they come over to talk? Why were they here? How did they notice you? Why now of all times? This was his evening. His time with you. And yet, you hadn’t been as happy with him all night as you were when you talked to them. Kazuha’s expression changed from worried to upset as he had to watch you laugh with them, even though the mood seemed awkward from afar. Maybe they were apologizing, or perhaps just trying to replicate the good old times with you, but you seemed very receptive to their presence, smiling in a way that you never did when you were with Kazuha.

It had taken a lot to break you guys apart. Not willingly, but they weren’t a good influence for you. He had never done anything to them, but one day they had decided they didn’t like the way he looked at you. That Kazuha was too ‘possessive’ and that the ‘took up all your time’. They told you to stay away from the outsider, to ignore the soft, wonderful feelings you two had for each other—the strong bond you were forming with your boyfriend. Your friends decided he wasn’t good for you but were they really your friends when they made you choose between them and your love? Gods, he hated what they did to you. Hated how miserable they could make you. You had been so nervous and anxious after they started harassing you to leave him, crying at night and into his shoulder when you didn’t know what to do. The first time you said you loved him was while you were assuring him that you still had feelings for him; that being the reason why it was so hard on you to be forced to make this decision. It wasn’t a romantic moment, but one filled with tears. Kazuha would never forgive them for robbing him of his amazing confession from your lips.

However, in the end? You chose him—naturally. You chose him for this very reason. Because you love him. Kazuha never made you decide. Sure, he didn’t like your friends, but he didn’t go out of his way to engage with them. He only ever had eyes for you, following you whenever you met with your so-called friends and making sure you’d be safe from them. However, he was better than them, and even if they made you cry on your way home, he never once went back to hurt them just as much as they hurt you, even if his blood was boiling. Kazuha would rather spend his time comforting you, asserting his place in your heart, than stick to the ones who were desperately trying to tear him out of said place.

But maybe he should have.

Maybe he should have demanded that you decide on one side. After all, you were already distancing yourself from these people that kept hurting you in the name of ‘only wanting the best for you’. He was the best for you. There was nothing that could be better for you than Kazuha. He was strong; he was safe for you. No one else tended to you as gently and lovingly as he did. Comforted you when you were down. You had to wear the burden of everyone around you, but Kazuha only committed to you and your worries. He was the saving grace and the helping hand you needed in your desperation. The person your friends should have been if you had actually mattered to them.

In return, you were the same for him. You gave his life a meaning that he had long searched for. A new friend and a love to wake his lonely heart again. No one could ever stir him like you did, and he was thankful. Thankful for the opportunity to be by your side, to warm you on cold nights, and to tell you about the past he never shared with anyone else. You were the listener he wanted; gave him the attention he needed. And Kazuha...

Kazuha wouldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t lose someone again. Not you.

Marching up to you and your friends gathering around, he listened to the meaningless conversation you had. “We’re sorry for saying such harsh things,” and “We were worried about you.” Loads of empty words, in his opinion. But seeing your eyes tear up at them made his heart sting and his blood boil all over again. It made him furious. Furious for you. You deserved so much better than these lies. They didn’t care about you!

Pushing through them without roughly, Kazuha only looked at you, finding your eyes instantly. You were surprised by his appearance but quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and returning to the silly, little smile you usually graced him with. One that was as empty as your friend’s words. One you adapted just to please him and not worry him further, but once he’d put an end to this, Kazuha knew you’d be able to smile at him properly again with a sincere one.

“Choose,” he prompted, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion while your friends began to grow tense and murmur between themselves.

“These people-” he made a vague gesture between the few gathered around, “-aren’t good for you, and you know it. They dropped you when you needed them the most while I’ve been with you all this time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you breathed, but Kazuha didn’t confirm your wish. He was serious, even if that meant upsetting you. This was for the best. “It’s your decision. Them or me. Choose wisely.”

“That’s unfair!” one of your friends cried out, upset about his intention, and Kazuha looked at them sharply from the corner of his eye, silencing them effectively. “It’s not unfair,” he shut their argument down, looking only at you as he spoke. “They made you choose first and broke your heart. I never have and never will hurt you. But I am not so sure about the people who already did it once.”

Kazuha’s words had impact; he could see it in your eyes. You, too, remembered the bad times that felt like your heart was ripped into pieces by the people you put so much trust in. And instead, it had been him who was there, making sure you ate and drank in your troubled times, and got rest when you needed it. Even if there was no luxury in his life, he still had been a better friend than any of them. Kazuha completely missed that he suggested dropping you the same way your friends had when he made you choose. He didn’t want to believe you would choose anyone over him after all he did for you. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you. That’s how love worked.

“I love you.”

A dirty trick. One that your friends couldn’t use. Kazuha directly pulled at your heartstrings, making you miss a breath as you grew even more blindsided. “I don’t want to lose you, again,” he didn’t hesitate to add, noticing how your friends’ faces grew worried and upset at his words. He was hinting at the bad time you two had gone through. The one that made a part of you die. But you only looked down, hands balling into fists as you felt conflicted. There was no need for you to wreck your pretty head over these nobodies, Kazuha decided, holding out his hand. You only needed him—as much as he needed you.

Timidly, you reached for his hand, and he gripped yours tightly, pulling you up from your seat and after him, away from these fake friends and their fake worry without another word to them. “It’s better like this,” he assured you, dragging you through the crowd so you wouldn’t be able to look back at your past. He was before you, your future, and he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him and ruin this for you.

But when you were unresponsive, he threw a glance back over his shoulder, noticing the tears streaming down your eyes. You two came to a stop as he turned around, cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss. Even though your hands came to rest against his chest, pushing, you never managed to escape his grip, forced to kiss him until neither of you could hold your breath anymore. Leaning his forehead against yours, you were left speechless, but not Kazuha.

“I love you. I love you so much. Promise me you’ll never go back to them.” It was hard to commit to that, but his hands grew tighter around your face, desperate to hear it. “You chose me,” he insisted, pain swinging in his voice. “You’re not leaving me.”

There was no way of saying where those emotions came from, but he didn’t give you time to think them over. This was the future he chose, by your side. And that night, you chose it too, even if you ended up not liking it once you found out that your friends had been right all along.

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s-brant · 3 years

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Under The Magnolia (4/8)

(gif: @wodohwan) (PART THREE) (PART FIVE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: Y/N tries to put what happened with JJ behind her when she returns to school, but when her patience is tested by a series of unfortunate events, she snaps. JJ, trying to figure out what’s wrong with her, is blindsided by an issue of his own.

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, drug use, panic attacks, implied parent/child abuse, mental illness, suicidal ideation without graphic depictions, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! This chapter gets pretty heavy at times on the angst, as you probably anticipated from the end of chapter three, so bring some tissues and get ready for a bumpy ride ‘cause these characters aren’t having a great day. Things will work out eventually for them though, pinky promise! Let me know if you enjoyed this. Feedback is very much appreciated. Have fun!

Y/N has never liked gym class.

Fifty or so people crammed into an un-airconditioned, smelly gymnasium so they can half-heartedly do sports and play games that'll make them sweaty by the time they return to their classrooms? That's her version of hell right there if she's ever seen it, and very few things could make it worse than it already is, but she's betting she has something this time.

From across the field out back behind Kildare County High, she sits on the grass with Kie and watches JJ playing basketball on the tarmac court with a group of random boys and Pope. It's the first time in weeks that she has gotten any alone time with Kie, her first time seeing her at all since she ditched on their plans, and all she can think of is him.

After they got themselves fully clothed again after their dirty tryst in the back of the van, they finished the double feature together—this time quite enthralled in the second movie—and went back to the Chateau as per usual. He ended up finding his wallet crammed in the crevasse between the front seat and center console, and she gave him a lackadaisical thumbs up when he held it up for her to see with one of his award-winning, toothy grins.

Things haven't felt the same since that non-date they went on. He has yet to notice her change in mood since she's done everything possible to prevent anyone, especially him, from noticing it, but it's there. The rejection plays on repeat in the back of her mind every waking moment, as if her subconscious wants to rub it in for her.

Kiara, mid-rant, catches her attention with the tail-end of her sentence though.

"...that was totally bitchy though. She has nerve saying that shit to you knowing damn well what you're going through."

In any other conversation, she likely would have to admit to not fully listening and ask for context, but the topic is clear to her.

Temporarily, her eyes wander away from the boy she's not dating to the "bitch" in question. Kacey Adams. Smoking hot, intelligent, and popular, but severely lacking in basic human empathy, she's probably up there in the top ten of Y/N's most hated people on earth. Not anywhere above Ward or Rafe Cameron, but damn high for multiple reasons, one of which being that her and JJ fucked last year.

In her defense, this territorial jealousy is not the only reason she hates her. Facts are, she's a loud-mouthed kook wannabe that thinks she knows everything about everyone, and despite her book smarts, she's wrong about her assumptions ninety percent of the time. This side of her wasn't visible to JJ when they first connected at a party, but it's more than evident in the aftermath of John B's disappearance.

A much nicer girl was asking her how she was doing with the obvious fact of no longer having her brother around when Kacey decided she couldn't listen any longer without setting the record straight.

As soon as she saw her turn the corner from around the side of their locker section, she sighed and muttered, "Here we go," shrugging the friendly girl's arm off to finish changing.

"Y'all are seriously still hung up on that cop killer?" she scoffed, laughing in a condescending way that made the rest of the girls in their section want to leap over the bench to throttle her. "My daddy's a deputy, and he says there's no doubt he's the one who shot Peterkin. Brother or not, there's no way you can defend that, right?"

At first, she decided to go with the tried and true method of pretending Kacey didn't exist. It worked once or twice before, making her laugh to herself and her group of friends before scurrying off to do whatever else it is the spawn of Satan likes to do in her spare time. She hoped it would continue to be effective.

Until Kiara stepped in.

"Yeah, and it's no surprise to me considering you're a bourgeoisie bootlicker that'll believe any rumor you hear as long as it aligns with your precious beliefs. You know, riding so hard for the kooks won't make you one, so do yourself a favor and leave her alone. All the evidence on John B was circumstantial."

The girls around them reacted with various sounds of surprise, some encouraging and others siding with Kacey, while Y/N stood with her eyes glued to the inside of her locker. She stared at where John B's bandana was folded up on top of her street clothes and tried to keep herself calm. He always told her that people like that aren't worth it, and when she saw his old bandana lying there, it was like he was trying to talk to her from beyond what separated them.

She was pulling her tank top over her head when the next comment made its calculated blow. The bully ignored Kiara entirely, stepping closer to where she stood in front of her locker.

"What? Not so tough without your little boyfriend here, are you?"

That was it.

The sound of her locker slamming shut echoed into the high ceilings of the room, her unshut combination lock rattling against the rusted metal as she turned to face the other girl. She got so close to her, they could've touched.

"Do not bring JJ into this," she spat the words like poison in her mouth, "and, for the record, he isn't my boyfriend. Maybe you should get your facts straight before attacking me."

"I do have my facts straight about one thing though, your brother is—sorry, was"—Kie and Y/N couldn't help but tense up at that intentional "mistake" in word choice that sucker punched them—"a murderer. We all know it."

No matter how strained or distant their friendship became over the course of the last month, it was clear from Kiara's perspective that her friend was one more comment away from letting this verbal altercation shift into a physical one. Her forehead creased with a sour, hard-set expression she'd seen her give many people, most of which being those who think seeing her in public is free reign to make all the comments they want about her "murderous" brother.

Without the gym teacher there to stop it, the rest of the nearby girls gathered to watch the fight unfold in real time, and she couldn't necessarily blame them. There are countless fights a week in this place, and it's nearly a form of entertainment at this point. One time, she and JJ watched a girl shove another girl into a window by their hair and break it after the latter called her a bitch, so, yeah, Kildare had its fair share of fights, and the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown was in the works for weeks.

She pointed to the door and said, "Why don't you turn around, go to Figure Eight, and go back to begging some poor kook to fuck you, cause nobody wants you here, Kacey."

With that, while the small crowd reacted in laughs or gasps, she decided it was over. There was no point in drawing it out longer than this, and the gym coach would be back any second to usher them all into the gymnasium anyway.

Her steps echoed through the narrow, but big room, and she almost made it to the door when Kacey struck one final, killing blow.

"But I didn't have to beg JJ to fuck me, did I?"

That was enough to set Y/N after her like someone lit a fire under her ass, and Kie knew it as soon as the words were said. Messing with her was fine, but saying something about JJ? The girl might as well have signed her own death warrant.

She lunged at her, hopping over the bench and shoving her up against the various lockers hard enough to make hers rattle on its hinges again, when she felt a pair of hands tugging her off as soon as she did it.

Kie's voice met her ears as she dragged her off to the door to the gym, "Trust me, getting suspended over that bitch is not worth it."

It almost makes her laugh to herself now that she thinks of it.

She was one of JJ's famous worst lays in the history of his extensive sexual background, so her bragging attitude about having gotten with him, while infuriating in the heat of the moment, was ironic. The memory of overhearing that particular conversation in the van with him, Pope, and John B is clear in her mind.

Y/N digs at the dirt with the side of her shoe, still decorated with the surfboard sticker JJ put on it during lunch the other day, and she shakes her head.

"She's just trying to get under my skin. You were right, it wasn't worth it." Then, she tilts her head to the side as though in consideration. "Although, I'd love to see the look on her face if I'd've told her how fuckin' terrible she was in bed according to JJ."

The comment makes her friend tip her head back in a laugh that's been scarce ever since she started ignoring her in favor of spending her free time with her boyfriend. She wishes things didn't have to be this way, wishes she didn't have to feel the cold betrayal of Kie's neglect so often, but stuffs it down deep inside of her for now. At least she has these few moments with her. She's lucky she's not playing basketball because Pope's doing it—although whether the non-athletic boy is succeeding at it remains debatable.

Her eyes have since moved back to watching JJ across the field following her brief glance at where Kacey runs on the track. He's wearing the same old gym shirt he always does, but, for some reason, he looks particularly perfect in it today. Maybe it's the grown-out hair that he sweeps out of his face or the sweat shining on his muscular arms as he throws a shot, but she almost forgets about what happened as she stares.

Kie, once again, says something that distracts her, This time, she nearly breaks her neck in the effort to turn her head to look at her in response.

"Speak of the devil...did you hear about his new girl?"

Her heart dropped. Did they figure it out? Do they know about them hooking up? Did JJ tell them?

"What?" she asked, then shook her heard, "JJ doesn't have a 'girl', he doesn't date, like ever."

Considering how the night at the Cherry Bowl went, she knows firsthand. Yet even before her, he didn't like it. It isn't anything that has to do with her, or any of the other girls he's been with for that matter, it's something to do with him. Whatever it is, there's something he doesn't like about dating and relationships that has prevented him from seeking them out his whole life, and that isn't about to change.

Kie spares a glance at him on the basketball court, then scoots closer through the grass and into the small patch of dirt Y/N allows to stain her shorts for the time being.

"That's what I said too, but apparently he does now. He told Pope and I that her name is Steph, and you'd think the sun shines out of her ass with the way he talked about her. Like, no lie, he's actually simping for her. Can you believe it?"

Just like that, the hot-headed fury of the jealousy she felt in the locker room over his past fling with Satan incarnate comes back in full force. It's actually more intense than that though. This news hurts more due to the pain of him rejecting her not even three full days ago.

Liar.

The word pangs through her to the beat of a swift drum as she looks back at JJ on the basketball court again. He said he stopped seeing other girls after they started having sex, and now Kie's telling her he's dating someone other than her? If there's one thing this boy has, it's some audacity, because she has to hold herself back from marching across the field and giving him a piece of her mind.

Her eyes sting once again with the urge to cry, and she curses herself for letting him have such power over her emotions.

It's not like he's betrothed to her or anything, but has he no shame? Does he not remember what he told her a few weeks ago? Why did he even say he wasn't seeing other girls if it wasn't true? Was it to mess with her head? There's no way. The JJ she knows would never do something to purposely hurt her feelings.

Kie continues, saying, "He said she's new in town. Pope and I were shocked honestly. Since when does he date people?"

According to the liar himself, never, but now she knows it isn't true. He isn't against dating in general, he's against dating her. The truth lies in plain sight, and it's enough to shatter her heart into pieces: she's not good enough. This fear has taken up residence in the darker depths of her mind ever since they began their affair, but to find out it's true? For the second time this week, she must force herself not to cry in front of someone, and both times were caused by JJ not wanting her.

Y/N puts on a smile similar to the one she forced for the duration of the car ride home and shrugs, indifferent.

"Since now, I guess. Good for him. He deserves some happiness after all this shit we've been through, don't you think?"

JJ doesn't know why, but Y/N is pissed. Like super pissed. Like "won't say anything in response to what he or their friends say outside of super vague hums in agreement" pissed, and he cannot figure it out to save his life.

She was in great spirits this morning on their drive to school, or so he thought. She still stuck one of her stickers on his backpack like she always does, and she responded to everything he said in full sentences without staring blankly ahead and humming yes or no the way she currently does.

What happened in between this morning and now that made her mood shift to this non-verbal, buzzing rage? 'Cause if anyone said or did something rude to her, he'll lose his shit. It's been a dutiful effort for any of them to keep themselves from spiraling after their friends' deaths, himself included, but John B was her brother. It runs deeper for her in a way none of them, all without siblings, can understand, and he'll curse out anyone who threatens to ruin her stability right now.

The chatter of everyone flooding out of the school and into the parking lot fills the air around them on their way to the Twinkie. Deciding to hang out with her and JJ, a rarity in recent days, Pope and Kie opted for hitching a ride with them back to the Chateau to hang out for the night. If he weren't busy worrying about what happened to her, he'd take a second to be happy about it.

"I'm pretty sure I bombed that test, though," Kie says from behind where he and Y/N walk a step or two ahead to reach the parked van, "It was way harder than the practice questions let on, and she totally had stuff on there that wasn't in our lessons. It's such bullshit."

His eyes are cast sideways to get a good view of his favorite girl's faraway, scowling expression.

Seeing her this way physically hurts. Between the countless times she cried in his arms over John B, what happened when Kie blew her off at lunch, and now, he's seen her upset more times than he'd like to, and it never gets easier for him to cope with.

He recognizes that he holds some power over her emotions and always tries to use it help her, not hurt her, but right now there isn't much he can do in the presence of their friends due to her own secrecy rule. No matter how badly he wants to, he can't act in public the way they do alone, and it makes his heart ache.

The weight of her backpack strap, heavy with the thick textbooks and binders inside of her brother's old bag, on her shoulder is relieved as soon as she comes to a stop at the driver's side door to the Twinkie. It makes her brows furrow instantly, and she turns around in each direction to find out who snatched her bag up before her eyes settle on the very last person she wants to see right now.

JJ smiles down at her, his one crooked canine tooth poking out around his pink lips that look so kissable, she could—Wait, for fuck's sake, she's supposed to be mad, not wanting to kiss him!

Two backpacks now sit on his shoulders, his on the left and hers on the right. If it's too heavy for him, he doesn't let it show. Fuck him and his infuriating talent of knowing exactly when she needs him to be sweet, chivalrous JJ instead of the typical loud, joking, chaotic JJ she knows and loves. With Kie and Pope distracted with hopping inside of the van, they don't notice him reach down to squeeze her hand in reassurance, letting her know that whatever it was that was wrong, it would be alright.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

She smiles at him half-heartedly and turns around to get into the driver's seat with her keys swinging around on her forefinger, slamming it shut in a blind rage that her friends don't pick up on.

Who does he think he is?

One second he's using his sixth sense to notice her bad mood and carry her bag for her like a gentlemen, and the next he's running off to date his secret little girlfriend? Steph. What an evil girl. She likely isn't even evil, nor does she know that he's sort-of already spoken for, but for now she lets herself curse both JJ and his secret girlfriend for stabbing her in the back because she's too angry to think logically.

What hurts is that she probably isn't a bad person that she can justify hating.

She's likely sweet, and gorgeous, and not as traumatized and broken as her. She's probably everything Y/N isn't, and it hurts worse than any pain she's felt before. Why should he want her, anyway? All she does is cling to him like a leech and daydream about him loving her back one day.

This Steph girl probably does everything right with him, leaving him wondering and wanting more, not desperately grasping onto him as her life preserver in the sinking ship that is her shitty life. He doesn't deserve that. He has enough of his own shit to handle without her adding onto it.

Her hands grip the steering wheel hard enough to snap the bones in her fingers by the time the rest of her friends are all buckled up and waiting for her to start the car, and Pope's soft voice floats through the air to her ears.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and the other two look up to see her at the sound of his words, "You look like you're gonna be sick."

Is she okay? Emotionally draining question, in her opinion.

What classifies as okay when you've had a day as shitty as she has? First, her not-boyfriend pretty much broke up with her at the Cherry Bowl. Then, her not-boyfriend's old one night stand decided to taunt her in the locker room. And. finally, to put icing on the cake, Kiara so graciously informed her during gym that her not-boyfriend has found himself a brand-spanking-new girlfriend a mere two and half days since they "broke up" on their not-date.

No, she wishes she could say, she is not okay. In fact, she might scream if she turns and sees JJ's cute, worried eyes staring over at her the way they always are when she's like this. Does his girlfriend find them as beautiful as she does? She can't help but wonder more about her whenever she peeks over at him.

It was enough that she became jealous over him and Kacey's past together. She remembers standing there, steaming out of the ears with rage, and staring at her brother's bandana with the memory of his advice ringing through her head. Then, to hear the bad news tripled that jealousy. All she wants to do is go home, shower the gym sweat off of her, and cry under the hot stream of water until it turns freezing.

"I just—" she stammers the words out, about to make something up, when it hits her.

The bandana.

Where the fuck did John B's bandana go? A confirming glance to her wrist and a feel-up of her neck lets her know that it isn't tied onto her, and the first place she looks next is the rear view mirror she tied it to the other night.

No. No. No. This can't be happening. This day cannot possibly get worse.

The rest of her friends watch in confusion as she frantically turns her eyes to scan the van around her, leaning over JJ's lap to rip apart the glove compartment while they all ask her what's wrong. In truth, everything is wrong, but the bandana not being here is the worst thing that could happen. Screw JJ getting a girlfriend that isn't her, this is bad. Train wreck bad, like she's gonna have a panic attack bad, like you're the iceberg lookout of the Titanic bad.

She starts to breathe heavily as she yanks her backpack up from where it sat at JJ's feet and tears through every accessible pocket of it in a frenzy. The front pocket? No sign of it. The mesh side pocket intended for storing her water bottle? Empty. The main pocket? Nothing but books and binders. The last small inside zipper pocket? No bandana in sight.

JJ's voice shouting over the rest of them, including the millions of voices screaming inside of her head at different times and volumes, makes her look away from where she stares blankly inside the backpack and starts to cry.

"Y/N!"

His hand grasping her wrist and tugging it away from the backpack with a strength she never knew to expect from him is what ultimately gets her attention, and while she'd normally never shrink from his touch, she yanks her arm out of his hand immediately.

His eyes zero in on her panicked expression and the pace at which her chest rises and falls. Something is happening and she's not responding. His stomach drops with the helplessness of only being able to watch without getting through to her. He knows panic attacks well enough from his own experiences to see this for what it is.

"I—" she cuts herself off with a gasping inhale, tears starting to bloom around the brims of her eyes, and pulls her knees up onto the seat so she can hug them. "I had—" They all hang off of her trembling voice like it's gospel, and he's two seconds from force-feeding her an anxiety med he bought off of his cousin for himself. "I had a bad day, Kacey cornered me in the locker room, and I wanted to go home and relax, but I lost John B's bandana! I can't find it anywhere, JJ, I can't...I can't find it!"

The feeling of panic constricts her chest with the false mimicking of not being able to breathe enough, and, vulnerable to this trick, her fragile mind falls for it in the midst of her break down. She can't breathe, and John B's bandana is nowhere to be found...

Y/N rips open the driver's side door and lets herself slide down to the pavement onto her feet, hardly thinking straight except for the fact that she wants to stand outside of the car, not inside of it. The interior of it is marked with too many reminders of her brother—from his name carved on the ceiling to the forgotten trash he left that she refuses to pick up no matter how gross it makes her look when she gives people rides.

The outside air of fresh, but it does nothing to solve her issue of needing to breathe. Nothing can, not the sunshine peeking down at her through the filter of the treetops lining the grassy walkway above the curb where the van is parked, not her friends' questions, or the sound of the van doors opening and closing.

It's never going to be over.

She'll continue reliving the agony of losing him until she fades away forever, nothing more than a speck of dust buried deep into the earth, still weeping as a ghost over the boy that drove off into the storm and never returned. The wave of panic will extend until the end of her life. She sees no escape from it in its peak, and she can't even think of anything around her until she feels a pair of strong arms wrapping around her from behind.

Grounded to reality, JJ, Kie, and Pope were flinging themselves out of the van doors the second they saw her step outside and start sobbing. The former two watch in utter shock as JJ throws his arms around her and pulls her out of the path of the passing cars right in time to save her from getting hit.

Back to the safety found between the Twinkie and empty spot next to it, he barks an order at his friends, voice shaken with fear they all share, "In my bag, in the front pocket with the weed, there's a Xanax. Snap it in half and give it to me with your water bottle."

"Why do you have—"

"Just get me the fucking Xanax, Pope! Do you see her right now? She needs help!"

There's no further argument needed for the two of them to burst into action towards the backpack sitting on the ground in front of the van, unzipping and searching it as frantically as she had in search of the bandana.

It's not like it's dangerous or anything. He never takes it unless he's desperate and in the midst of the panic attack. Plus, his cousin is an EMT. It's not like he gives him pills laced with fentanyl, nor does he give him too many at a time. It's real shit. If there were any doubt of its reliability, he sure as hell wouldn't let her have it.

While they're busy tearing apart his backpack, JJ turns back to her with his arms, now loosening up with the knowledge that he'll only make her breathing worse if he holds too tight, still wrapped around her.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear as she chokes on her spit and hyperventilates, "I need you to breathe exactly like I do. You feel me breathing, right? Just do that for me. That's all you need to do."

He knew it.

He knew something was wrong the second he saw her again when they met up to go home together, and he should've asked. He should've done something to get ahead of this, but now she's freaking out and there's hardly anything he can do about it. She said something about Kacey too, and he doesn't care if she's a girl, when he sees her after this, they're gonna have it out. Nobody is allowed to make her feel this way. Over his dead body.

The body in his arms trembles with the force of her cries, and he starts to cry too. He can't help how seeing her go through this makes him feel, even if it's obvious at this point to their friends. He doesn't give a shit. She needs him, not the fake version of him he acts as when other people are looking. She needs her JJ.

"Pope! Kie!" he shouts, then softens his voice when she flinches in the other direction of him, "I need the pill. She's gonna make herself pass out breathing like this."

It happened too quickly to react to.

He didn't have the time to prep himself for it or reach into his bag when he had the initial instinct to give her the pill in the first place before things took a nosedive into detrimental territory, but that's how these things go. It isn't always gradual. Sometimes all it takes are small things building before one more trigger snaps your last scrap of sanity.

"It's not my fault your bag is so fucking unorganized, it wasn't even in that pocket, JJ! I'm trying!" Kie yells back at him.

Her hands shake on the zipper of the last pocket she and Pope had yet to look into, and she lets out a cry of relief at the sight of the small ziploc with a single bar of Xanax sitting at the bottom of it. The angels might as well be singing at the sight of it in her mind, because the relief she feels knowing it'll calm her friend down is immeasurable.

They rush over to where she and JJ are slumped against the side of the van together, and they've gone from standing to sitting in a heap against the front tire. Her body is fixed between his legs, his arms holding her in against him, and he's leaned forward to prop his chin on her shoulder as he whispers things they can't hear to her.

Kie and Pope kneel down in front of her. The gravelly pavement scrapes her knees through the slits in her distressed jeans, but she doesn't feel it through the adrenaline pumping into her in the process of giving him the pill. It drops into the palm of his hand, almost onto the ground, and he doesn't have the time to spare a thank you. They're all too focused on her to bother with formalities.

"Open up," JJ says, gesturing to her mouth, and when she's too lost in her mind to do it, he reaches with his other hand to tap her repeatedly on the shoulder. "Y/N. Open your mouth."

With the stress of the situation having its affect on him, it's difficult not to raise his voice when she doesn't comply with the commands that'll only help her in the end. But she's not mentally here right now, and it takes a few seconds of them all getting her attention for her to do what he asked.

Pope has the good sense to tell her before he sets the halved dose onto her tongue, "He's giving you a pill, so keep it on your tongue for a second, okay?"

In her muddled, panicked state, she hums in response, and they all take victory in the small improvement. A non-verbal response is better than being wholly unresponsive. It's getting better for now.

The pill merely sits on her tongue for a half-second before Kie is uncapping her hydroflask and handing it off to JJ for him to help her with. He raises the edge of the bottle to her lips, pouring in enough so she can take the pill but not too much, and watches her swallow it before bringing it back for another mouthful for good measure.

Once the pill is swallowed, and Kie checks her tongue to make sure it went down, there's nothing to do except sit back and help her through it until it kicks in.

The one time he used it, it halted his panic attack in its tracks tracks about fifteen or twenty minutes in, but Ricky told him it can work as soon as ten minutes later or up to thirty minutes. It depends on the person taking it and the dosage, but it's generally fast-acting, which was the whole reason he bought two off of him for these situations. The thing is, he didn't think he'd have to use it on her.

JJ takes deep, stabilizing breaths, not only for her to take as an example, but because he felt like he couldn't breathe along with her until they got her to swallow that pill. The feeling of her body's warm pressing up against his chest keeps him sane for the time being, and he lets his face tilt down to rest on the back of her neck, nuzzling into her hair and savoring the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo.

"Keep breathing," he whispers, and he knows she hears him this time based on how her chest struggles with the conscious effort of her trying to match his breathing pattern beneath the hand resting there.

Y/N starts to come down from the peak of her sudden panic attack after another ten minutes of sitting here, with JJ clinging to her and her friends knelt with their hands in hers, and blinks her tired eyes against the harsh sunlight glaring down at them. Ricky was right about it working quickly, then, 'cause it kicked it fast with her. She obviously isn't up to normal standards within the span of ten minutes, but she isn't on the verge of passing out, so they all take a collective sigh of relief when she starts to return to them.

The first thing she says, after an additional ten minutes of them all sitting there with her on the ground of the deserted parking lot, is, "I'm so exhausted."

The sound of the water in the marsh lapping at the edge of the land connecting to the dock keeps her from crumbling. Well, that and the Xanax barely lingering in her system from hours ago when her friends forced-fed the drug to her. The bitter taste lingered on her tongue in the moment after she swallowed it, but JJ, knowing from when he split one to take in the midst of a panic attack, cared enough to remember that and give her another swig of water to wash it away.

Most of what occurred after her sudden meltdown in the school parking lot is hazy to her. The time in which she and JJ sat there together, with her hands outstretched to hold onto Pope and Kie, felt like an eternity, but she knows based on the time on JJ's phone when he pulled it out that it wouldn't have been longer than twenty minutes. That memory skips straight into waking up alone in her bed in the Chateau, and it's not like she expected him to stay, but she wanted him to.

It's not his obligation to take care of her. That's her own responsibility, and she knows that her feelings since John B and Sarah died have been all too dependent on JJ. It isn't healthy. She knows it isn't, but she doesn't need the same things from him that she did back then. She doesn't need him to fix her, or put her back together. What she wants is for him to be here. That's it.

Yet he isn't. He dropped her off here after they helped her through the meltdown and left her alone, and she wishes she didn't have to accept the fact that they're never going to become what she wants them to.

Y/N snuggles further into the sleeping bag she dug out of the hallway closet and stares at the formidable wall of tree bark towering in front of her. The tip of her finger traces the grooves in the old magnolia's wood, studying the dips and curves as though it's the most interesting thing in the universe to distract herself. Further up above where her fingertips can reach sits the carving JJ made of her brother's headstone into tree.

It felt right to come here.

Once she woke from her drug-induced drowsiness and remembered the absence of her brother's coveted bandana, she didn't feel the same panic as before. Instead, a crushing wave of melancholy washed over her as soon as the memory of today returned, and she didn't know what else to do. Without any of her friends here, or her brother alive, she did the closest thing she could to knocking on John B's bedroom door after a nightmare and asking if she could sleep in his room for the night.

Laying in his sleeping bag with her head resting on a pillow, she tries to fall asleep at the foot of the tree where they buried the box of letters for him. For her, this is his resting place, not a place at the bottom of the ocean for him to moulder away forever. Sometimes, she sits here, and if she closes her eyes to pretend for a while, it feels like he's with her.

Her tear ducts, exhausted and overworked from her sobbing aggressively enough to give herself a headache back at the school parking lot, have dried up. At this point, there are no tears left to cry, and she finds comfort in it. Knowing that there's nothing left to do but feel these emotions and let them go lifts a weight off of her shoulders that she hadn't realized was there.

The white noise of chirping birds, the current of the marsh, and the HMS Pogue hitting the dock every other second is torn through by the sudden sound of a bike's engine approaching from down the street.

She takes a deep breath.

The least important aspect of the events leading to her panic attack was what happened with JJ, but it was part of it. It isn't even something she wants to hold against him at this point. Sure, it was shitty of him to lie, but wasn't it shitty of her to place expectations on him when they weren't even together? If she wanted more, she shouldn't have said she was okay with it not being a date.

Soon, the rumbling sound of JJ's bike comes to halt not fifteen feet from where she rests her head under the magnolia tree, and she finally decides she's going to work up the courage to say it. It's time to rip the bandaid off and tell him everything. No more miscommunication, and if he still wants to be friends with her, that's the best outcome.

JJ steps on fallen leaves and twigs in his path on his way to her, tossing his forgotten backpack into the dirt beside his parked bike, and the footsteps she hears come to a stop right behind her.

This is it.

She's gonna end this relationship and let him be happy with his new girlfriend. Her chest is already rising with the deep inhale she needs to keep herself calm, and her mouth opens to speak the dreaded words to set them free when—

"My dad's going to jail for the restitution."

That was the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth when she heard him drive up.

The times where JJ has brought up his father willingly in conversation with her are scarce, enough so that this spontaneous confession stops her short before she can consider saying anything regarding what Kiara told her today. The restitution never faded from either of their minds since they lost out on the gold to Ward Cameron. It weighed on him quite heavily, worrying him in quieter moments about the day he'd have to answer for his crime and do time in jail, but what he hadn't expected was his dad to have to take responsibility for it.

It makes sense to her when she thinks of it. With Luke being his legal guardian, he bears responsibility too, and with JJ unable to produce the immense sum of money that fast, it falls on him. But how would he knows that happened if he didn't go home—

Y/N whips her head around, body shifting in the confines of the sizeable sleeping bag in a rush to turn and see if he's okay. What she's met with is a sight she hasn't had the displeasure of seeing since before John B died.

The angular face that was unmarred by injury and smiling at her this morning is now set in a permanent frown. Bruises bloom against the backdrop of tanned skin, one along his cheekbone and another circling his eye, and she's sure there are more beneath his clothes. His lower lip is split open and scabbed over with a grotesque build-up of fresh blood that can't be more than an hour or so old.

Her blood runs hot with a familiar sense of fury, but it's underscored by a sorrow so different to the one she feels in mourning John B, it makes her heart hurt on behalf of him. How could anyone look at JJ and find themselves compelled to hurt him? How dare his dad touch a single hair on his head?

There's nothing she can say as she stares at him in shock.

Today was never-ending. From the second she woke up with the bitterness of what happened at the Cherry Bowl, which now feels insignificant by comparison, to this gut-wrenching moment, these past fourteen hours might as well have been a year to her. And in the eye of the storm, she finds a sense of clarity surrounding her relationship with JJ at this moment in time.

Neither of them are ready to have the conversation necessary to sort out the convoluted mess that is their feelings for each other. After her mental breakdown and his encounter with his dad, neither of them have enough bandwidth to support the rational, mature attitudes needed for it, so she decides it doesn't need to happen. At least, not yet.

They are best friends before they are anything else to each other, and, right now, it seems like they both need their best friend. Not to fix them, or hold them together when they're broken, but to be there. To simply exist within the mutual understanding they've always retained for one another. No strings attached.

Though it hasn't been long since the confession left his mouth, it's starting to verge into glaringly loud silence by the time she finally nods, unzips the side of the sleeping bag, and holds it open in a wordless invitation for him.

JJ's entire body relaxes upon seeing her gesture for him to join her, and those teary eyes of his become heavier at the promise of the rest that'll soon find him in her arms. There's a short pause for him to unlace his boots and slip them off, but he's laying beside her before either of them realize it, securing his arms around her body. With the way he holds onto her, one would wonder if he thinks she'll be taken away if he doesn't keep her as close as possible.

He didn't abandon her after the Pogues brought her back to her room.

Kiara drove them to the Chateau with her and JJ huddled up together in the backseat as soon as she was calm enough to speak. Though, once they were sat down together and buckled in, the instantaneous drowsiness of the drug she has no tolerance for hit her at once, and she let herself get dragged under into unconsciousness with her face buried into his neck—something their friends did not care to question. Any one of them would offer that comfort for each other in a time of need, it wasn't suspicious that it happened to be him this time.

Their friends departed an hour after they returned her to her bedroom and assured she was safe there, but he needed to pack a bag for the next few days if he planned to stay the night with her, so he decided to pop over to his house for his things. It was supposed to be a quick affair, in and out with no complications in less than twenty minutes since his dad was supposed to be working, but it wasn't. As luck would have it, his dad got fired from his job the day before. To add insult to injury, his dad had ammunition to use against him in their argument this time, and there was no reasoning with him.

She should've known. Shame floods her at the realization of why he wasn't here when she woke up, and while she was too busy assuming he didn't care about her, he was being beaten half to death by his dad.

The feeling of his body shuddering against hers with the first few warning signs that he's about to break down into tears—full-on sobbing tears—and she can't help but let a few of her own fall down her cheeks in reaction. He tries not to cry in front of anyone, a fact she knew ever since they were little when he fell off his skateboard and scraped up the side of his leg with the outright refusal to let himself cry in the presence of their friends, and she didn't know it was because of his dad until recently.

He let it slip one day, not even thinking about what he was saying when he told her that crying got him "punished" when he was little. It first happened after his mom ran out on them, and him, being an innocent, helpless child, cried and cried over it for hours. It was wasn't long before Luke lost his patience with hearing it and...That was the first time JJ was ever hit by his dad before, and, unfortunately, it would not be the last.

It isn't lost on her what this means to him. The fact that she's the person he goes to, that he's allowing himself to cry with her here, means he trusts her more than she ever thought he did, and she doesn't know what to do with it.

There's a pause, him sucking in a shaky breath, then he whispers, "I wish I didn't still love him. Who the fuck loves someone when they treat you like this?"

His head rests on her sternum, his legs slotted perfectly in the gap between hers, and she runs her fingers through his hair in a repetitive, soothing motion that keeps him tethered to her for stability.

"I think," she says softly, staring up at the fluttering leaves above them, "that you have a really big heart and you can't help it, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. You're hardwired to love him because he's your dad, you know?"

The most of a response he can give is a hum into the soft skin of her chest, letting his grip on her relax the more his cries start to lessen in response to having her here.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

He feels the vibration of her speaking the word, "No," into the open late-night air above them where his head rests on her body.

"Me either."

Of course she isn't okay. He already knew the answer before he asked the question, but perhaps some blindly hopeful part of him prayed that she would be. After what he saw her go through, something he was accustomed to seeing in the first two weeks following her brother's death, he wishes that the answer to that question will always be yes when he asks.

He isn't sure that he's felt helplessness the same way he did today. Knowing that she was suffering and having no way to help except dosing her with an anxiety pill and hoping for the best...it was torture. He wouldn't say he's a devout believer in God, but he was two seconds away from praying to anyone that would listen as he sat on the ground behind her with his face pressed into her back, waiting for it to pass.

Her breaths are steady and even as he counts them, and her heartbeat is slowing with the approach of her falling asleep. If he were to look up at her face for the first time since laying down with her, he'd find her eyes fluttered shut in pursuit of the sweet reprieve to be found in sleep, and he knows what it feels like. It's what he feels currently.

Sleep is the closest thing they can find to death.

It's dark and peaceful, void of any ill feelings or thought short of the dreams or nightmares that sometimes greet them there, and it's the only place to escape to when your greatest enemy is your own traitorous mind. For JJ, his biggest enemy isn't his dad, it's himself. It's the thoughts that bombard him until he either drinks himself to sleep or exhausts himself with a panic attack, and the one cure to it is falling asleep.

And it may be too dark of a thought for him to share, but that's why dying doesn't seem too bad to him sometimes. It's not that he wants to die, or that he has any plans, but he can't deny the appeal sometimes. It's quiet. It's peaceful. It's a relief from the endless shitshow he calls life, and he can tell without having to ask her that she shares the sentiment today.

The thing is, there's one thing he'd miss if he weren't here, and when he lifts his head up to find her soft, sleeping face tilted to the side to face the tree, he knows.

The nighttime breeze blows the strands of honeyed hair from his face as he watches her in sheer, unadulterated reverence.

Sometimes, there are moments where everything feels correct. The planets move to their desired positions, the circumstances force a new train of thought, and there is nothing left to do except sit back and let it happen. This is one of those moments for him. Before tonight, he had his suspicions and hints that he denied the validity of, but there is no denying it anymore.

He sighs to himself. Not an annoyed, exasperated sigh, but a sigh of acceptance and longing that has remained trapped inside of him since he was a seven year old boy, letting his best friend's little sister ride a wave with him on his board because he loved the sound of her laugh when they did it. He never stood a chance, did he?

JJ reaches up to touch her face but stops at the last second, hovering over her cheek as though he's afraid she'll burn him upon contact, and he settles for brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as gently as he can without waking her. His voice is a hardly-audible whisper when he confesses to her sleeping form, knowing she won't be able to hold him to it.

"I love you."

When he falls asleep, he finds himself holding onto consciousness uncharacteristically, and he knows it's because he'll miss her too much for the next eight hours to go under without a fight.

Maybe dying isn't all he built it up to be.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #obx #outer banks #fanfiction #obx s2

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hiiraya · 3 years

Text

you are my sunshine (rewrite)

masterlist

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

words: ~1,793

warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, character death

requested:

a/n: i just realised i hadn't posted since my birthday! I figured i should get something out to you guys before the month ends so here's a rewrite from my old account bc uni is currently turning my brain into mush. happy reading!! ♡

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

It was obvious to everyone around you that you were more of a lover than a fighter.

It was easy – a little too easy sometimes – for you to get lost in your Imagination, dreaming away to your hearts content if nothing in the real world could hold your attention for more than a few minutes.

The fact that you were the type of person who would do anything for anyone when they asked, or just simply because you could didn’t help your case at all.

For the most part you did it to be nice and helpful to the team, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say that it was also so a certain witch who held your heart would come up to you whenever she needed help with something.

But you weren’t going to admit that just yet.

They always wondered how you did it.

You know that they would never ask it to your face, but you could see how they questioned how easily you could get side-tracked by your imagination, or how you could stay so optimistic and be dreaming of better days when it seemed like the whole world was against you.

After going through so much hurt and suffering, they would’ve thought that you’d turn hard and emotionless, giving up on the world that had given you every reason to stop believing in those who lived in it.

But against all odds, you kept the childlike joy and passion they were sure you would’ve lost years ago. They knew they had.

You were the one Peter would go to when he needed cheering up because he was told that he wasn’t allowed on a mission with the team (not just yet, Tony would kill you if gave the kid false hope, but you always told him that the time will come).

You were the one Bucky would seek out whenever life became a little too much to handle, because you knew just what to say without him having to say a word. “You are more than the sum of your mistakes, Buck.”

You were the one Natasha went to when she wanted someone to talk to just because she knew that she could tell you anything and you would listen, no questions asked.

You were the one they went to simply because they wanted to witness life through your eyes and see that there was still hope and goodness left in this world.

I dreamed I held you in my arms

You pined after her.

Oh boy, did you pine for her.

You dreamed of worlds where she was yours and the both of you were happy; worlds where no one thought of her as a monster, where everyone she’s ever loved was safe; where you could show her just how ethereal and radiant, she was in your eyes.

You dreamed of a world where you made Wanda feel so happy and loved, that she forgets about all the hurt and pain this earth had put her through.

But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

As all dreams do, they end, and unfortunately for you, as much as you loved to dream, nothing every came of them.

Those dreams would never become reality. And maybe it was because you were scared of being rejected, of being ridiculed- whatever the reason was that you gave to convince yourself that she could never know.

You don’t know.

You would always be just a friend to her.

So, of course, when you had finally worked up enough courage to do something about your feelings for Wanda after the whole mess that was Ultron, Vision had beaten you to it.

And now it was too late.

Because he was the one who could be there for her in the ways you wanted to. The one who could hold her and kiss her and treat her like you wanted to. The one she would come home to at the end of the day.

But luckily for you (was it luck or was it just a cruel twist of fate?) there was no one else but you that could calm her down.

Whenever the world got a little too loud, you would let her into your mind, conjuring up the few peaceful moments from your life that you held close to you, just for her to see, letting her ground herself back to reality while you sang to her softly.

It was in those moments that you knew, that yes, she had him, you were an irreplaceable part of her life too.

So, I bowed my head and I cried.

Even though everyone had dubbed you as the happy-go-lucky Avenger, you still had those moments where you broke down in the solitude of your room.

You tried hard to convince yourself that you would be fine seeing her with him, but deep down you knew that it broke you down little by little each time you saw Wanda being happy with someone that wasn’t you.

It was a selfish thought to have, and you knew it, so you tried to keep it locked away in the back of your mind.

Without realizing, you had built walls around your mind whenever she was around, letting her in just enough to calm her down but never enough to let her know what you were truly feeling.

You are my sunshine

You found it funny when you found out that people thought of you as the personal sunshine of the Avengers.

If only they knew about your own personal sunshine.

Wanda helped shape you into the person you were, acting as your own personal ray of sunshine that kept you going, shining just as bright as her to keep her happy and shining.

And if she shone a little brighter whenever you would call her your sunshine, then you would continue to call her that for as long as you could.

My only sunshine

“(Y/N), I didn’t know that you could play the piano.” She said with surprise.

The two of you were hanging out in your room when she noticed the piano tucked away in the corner of the room.

You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone before, Tony got it for you when you had mentioned to him that you missed playing when you first joined the team, and if you were being honest, you hadn’t touched it since then.

“That’s because I don’t play it much anymore.” You shrugged as you looked over at the instrument, getting off of your bed and crossing the room to sit on the worn-out seat.

“Can you play for me?”

“Anything for you, sunshine.”

Play the opening chords to your favorite lullaby, you looked at her with such longing and want before forcing your gaze away so she couldn’t see your eyes as you started to sing.

You make me happy, when skies are grey

You look up at her from you place on her lap, where your head is resting against her legs as she ran her fingers through your hair, offering you the best smile she could muster.

You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

She looks so beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it.

With the sun shining high and bright behind her, chestnut locks framing her face, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone told you that you were looking right at an angel.

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Maybe it was because you had fully convinced yourself that she would never feel the same way for you that you had missed on the forlorn gazes she sent your way.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something. Especially when she realized that you had started to block her from going further into your head whenever you let her in your mind as easily as she could before Vision and her had announced that they were together.

She couldn’t help but think back to all the times you would retreat back into your room after she walks into the room with the android; how your light would start to dull when she would bring him up in your conversations; how you seemed to smile less whenever he was around.

She didn’t know what was worse, to lose him or to lose you.

She wouldn’t be able to have a choice in the matter anyway.

You’d never tell her how you felt about her - you hated the feeling of separating people. Simply put, you just didn’t have the heart to say something and ruin the friendship between you and Wanda, or the relationship she had with Vision.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to calm you down, sunshine.” You murmur softly, (e/c) meeting shining emerald ones.

“Don’t say that (Y/N/N). It’s okay,” She says, shaking her head. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

You ignore her words for the first time as your breath hitches in your throat, wincing as she presses her hand harder against the wound on your stomach.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Just a simple recon mission to go into an abandoned Hydra base and gather intel that turned out to be a trap to lure your team in.

You were blindsided. All of you were.

“I’m sorry I can’t make this better. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to cheer you and the rest of the team up when you get back home. Tell them I’m sorry that I couldn’t say goodbye.” You manage to get out between breaths.

You had to get your apologies out now before it was too late.

Before there was no breath left in you to apologize to the one woman you swore to yourself you would never hurt.

The one woman you would love no matter what.

“We’re going to get you out of here, (Y/N). Just hold on for me.” She begs desperately, tears starting to stream down her cheeks as she lifted her head to shout for help.

You reach your hand up to cup her cheek, pulling her back down to look at you before you start humming the familiar tune you would sing to her after a rough night of nightmares.

Placing her hand over yours, she leaned into your touch, refusing to accept the fact that you were slipping away right in front of her eyes.

An anguished sob left her mouth while her tears fell harder as she watched you close your eyes for the last time, gasping for air as she manages to choke out the last line.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

—

taglist:

@ladyeliot

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarelet witch x reader #wanda x reader #avengers x readers #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #myfics.txt

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

No i In Team

Summary: Having been dumped, you find yourself standing in the mud and rain as a bootcamp instructor yells at you. Finally you snap, telling him your mind before storming off. Later when he appears at your room to see if you are ok, he makes sure you are fully over your ex, proving that some men are a lot better than others.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (no race or body type mentioned) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough sex, vaginal sex, doggy style, cowgirl, inappropriate use of a mini sombrero.

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You will then get an alert every time i post something.

My masterlist got too large for tumblr, so now you can check out my AO3 on THIS LINK to find my previous stories.

No I In Team

This was it. This was the worst decision you had ever made. In fact, the worst collection of the worst decisions. Ever. In the history of decision making.

The rain continued to pour. Any sane person would not be standing in the middle of an assault course in this weather. They certainly wouldn’t be joining in on a ‘team building get-away’ when you had in fact already quit the company and it just finished your notice period. And they really wouldn’t have come when their ex was parading his new girlfriend around and they were on the same team as you.

Okay, so the last bit wasn’t in your control; your ex had in fact dumped you - via text - whilst you were in the cab there. Which honestly was a bit of a surprise seeing as you were meant to be sharing a room, and you had splashed out on one of the luxury rooms in the hotel where the corporate events were held at. He was a little surprised - which proved how much of a dumbass he really was - when you refused to let him and his new girlfriend take your room, and you stay in the smaller and cheaper one she had paid for. It was simple, you had paid, they could fuck off.

The other girlfriend, now that was a surprise. You didn’t want to hate her, she seemed very sweet but there were definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic going on with her. Your weasel of an ex had cited a number of reasons for the break up, all laying blame on you, but really you had known it was coming and were quite relieved in a way… he was now someone else's problem.

However, because of being blindsided by the break up, you had continued on autopilot and now found yourself soaked to your skin, and the enormous brute that ran the bootcamp was doing his best to yell at every single person to ‘encourage’ them. Jesus christ you weren’t built for climbing up ropes and flinging yourself over 10ft walls, and with each passing obstacle you were falling further and further behind.

“COME ON! GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER THAT ROPE NET!”

Rolling your eyes you let out a huff and slid-ran through the three inch deep mud, starting to climb the net that led up to a rope ladder you were expected to climb across as it was suspended over a pool of muddy water. You looked into the distance, your ‘team mates’ having well and truly left you behind, and as you reached the bottom of the net you looked up at it, taking in how muddy and slippery it was where 11 other people had already climbed up it;

“ARE YOU AFRAID OF A NET? PULL YOURSELF UP AND STOP FUCKING AROUND IN THE MUD”

The ‘Captain’ yelled at you from six feet away. Jesus you were fed up with him. The guy looked like he lived, breathed, and slept military. At the start of the course he had introduced himself as Captain Syverson, but everyone was to refer to him as Captain. His fatigues and t-shirt were plastered to his skin, his beard soggy as puffs of steam came from his mouth as he continued to yell at you.

You turned to him, watching as he took a single stride and was just a foot from you, taking a deep breath to yell again before you pushed your hand up and pressed a single finger to his mouth;

“No”

He stopped, unable to hide his surprise as his eyebrows shot up before you pulled your finger away.

“Get your ass up that net, NOW!”

Crossing your arms you repeated yourself;

“No. I will not”

“THERE IS NO I IN TEAM!”

“No. There isn’t. But there is an i in Vibrator”

“W-what?”

“Vibrator. Dildo too. And i quit”

“You can’t quit”

“Unless you are going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me across that net and ladder, i quit. I am going to go back to my expensive hotel room, stopping at the bar to buy a bottle of the hardest liquor they have, have a hot bath, and give myself something a man has never been able to”

“What’s that?”

“An orgasm”

You turned on your heel and started towards the hotel building in the distance, leaving the Captain speechless in the rain. When you were halfway across the lawns you could hear him yelling at the rest of the team, but you couldn’t give a fuck, you’d had enough.

The bath was amazing. You’d spent a good hour if not two in it letting the spa jets send streams of bubbles over your body, and had in fact given yourself the first of many orgasms you had planned for your evening. You had been disappointed when you’d discovered that the bar wouldn’t sell bottles of alcohol, but the bartender had quietly told you that if you ordered the corporate entertainment tray over room service they were obliged to send up a selection of miniatures with mixers and nibbles.

You were still standing in your towel when you heard a knock at the door, puzzled to be interrupted as you had the Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the handle. Approaching the peephole you looked through, surprised to see who was on the other side. Opening the door a few inches you looked out, and saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, now wearing dry clothes that accentuated how he was 101% muscle, from the kingfisher blue sweater that made his eyes even brighter, to the dark denim that clung to his muscled thighs, a smirk played across his face when he saw what you were wearing;

“Hi”

“Captain?”

He shifted and held out a bottle of Tequila;

“The bar doesn’t sell liquor by the bottle”

He motioned for you to take it, and as you did so you swung the door open a little more, seeing him look you up and down, his eyes growing a little darker as he licked his lips;

“I thought about what you said…”

“Which part”

“About what words the letter i are in” you didn’t realise but he had shifted a little closer, his toes now over the threshold of the room; “Cos’ i thought of another word that has the letter i in”

You cocked your head to the side, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, already gauging the reason his thickly muscled man was at your hotel room door with a smile and alcohol;

“Dick has got an i in”

“You’re absolutely right” you pulled the cork from the bottle of Tequila, taking a sip and grinning at the captain as you fiddled with the little hat that hung from the neck of the bottle, taking a step back as he slowly crept further into the room. A flash of lightning from the bad weather outside illuminated the room, and yet the air between your bodies almost sparked from the energy you were giving off.

“But my favourite letter is U”

“Ok… i’m waiting for the punchline…”

“Because that’s in the word Tongue, and i would very much like my tongue to be in u”

Closing the gap between you, you pressed two fingertips to his chest, the soft blue sweater he now wore warm to the touch;

“That…” you paused, walking your fingers up his chest with each word: “Was the best pick up line i’ve ever heard, Captain”

Pushing the door shut behind him, his slid his hand into the split of your towel, his warm palm resting on your hip before pulling you flush with his chest;

“You can call me Sy”

He had lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, the towel trapped between your bodies but now unraveled as it dragged along the floor, your naked back and ass cooling in the air of the room, but soon warmed by two large hands as they roamed over your skin. His kiss was rough, his tongue licking into your mouth as his beard tickled your face.

You hadn’t even realised he’d gotten to the bed until he had pulled away and sat down, pulling you down with him so you were straddling his waist;

“Ride my face, let me give you what you need” he growled, his hands on your ass pushing you up his body.

You’d quickly scrambled to set the bottle onto the nightstand before straddling his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as his massive hands cupped your ass. He pulled you down until you were literally seated on his face, his thick beard brushing against your thighs and ass, his tongue burying itself between your slick folds, teasing you open.

Winding one hand through his short brown hair, the soft chocolate curls caressed your fingers as your other hand rested against the headboard of the bed to steady yourself, his eagerness already rapidly pushing you towards an orgasm, your body still buzzing from the one you’d given yourself in the bath.

“Oh fuck… Sy, Jesus Christ your tongue…”

You’d never met a man with a tongue so wide and juicy, the thick muscle pulsing within your cunt as his nose teased your clit, and soon you were shaking above him, attempting to push up on your legs from the intensity of it, only for his strong grip to tighten on your ass and pull you back down onto his face.

“Ride my tongue Darlin’” you heard his muffled voice, and as you looked down you saw his face was flushed but his eyes held nothing but mischief.

Tossing your head back you let yourself go, calling out his name as you unashamedly rode his tongue to an intense orgasm, flooding his face with your juices.

Limp and pliable, you felt him lifting you before setting you down on the bed, his lips finding your neck and shoulders as he pressed kisses to your skin. The storm raged outside the window, rain lashing against the glass and making you feel even more enclosed in as Sy’s body covered your own. Finally enough of your senses returned that you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. When he finally broke away from your lips he started to kiss down your body, only for you to tug at his soft blue sweater, wanting the knitwear gone;

“Okay ok Darlin’...”

“Want to see you… feel you…” you were lust drunk now, a fire in the pit of your belly where you wanted nothing more than this beast of a man to split you open and fuck you raw.

He let out a low belly laugh, pushing off you and standing, a grin on his face as he saw you watching him as he stripped for you.

With his sweater tossed aside, he toed his boots off as his hands made quick work of his jeans, revealing a pair of tight black boxer briefs that were obscenely bulging at the front. Clenching your thighs together did little to satisfy the arousal, and as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic of his underwear you bit your lip as he teased you, pulling the elastic down to reveal the thick bush of hair and a tantalizing peek at the thick root of his shaft. Inch by inch he lowered his underwear until they dropped to the floor, and your mouth was agape as you took his size in all his glory;

“Wow, you really do have the equipment for the BDE you give off...” He paused and looked at you, cocking an eyebrow as you started to explain; “It means big…”

“I know what it means” he smirked, hooking his finger at you and watching as you crawled over the bed until your face was level with his rapidly hardening dick; “Why don’t you show me how good that mouth of yours is?”

Wrapping your hands around his hot flesh you could feel him growing harder and thicker under your touch, leaning your head forwards until you could take him into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue as he grunted above you;

“That’s it Darlin’, get me nice and wet, gonna have this buried in you sooner or later, the harder you get me the more dick you get inside you”

He rested his hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take him deeper but without being pushy about it. When his tip nudged at the back of your throat you fought back the feeling, looking up with watery eyes as his own bored into your soul as his dick tried to do the same to the back of your skull.

Holding you deep he finally with a gasp pulled himself out of your mouth with a string of curses, stroking your hair as you coughed and sucked in precious oxygen;

“Fuck, that mouth of yours is a thing of wonder Darlin’... but i want to get into that sweet cunt of yours… how do you need it?”

“N-need it?”

He gently pushed you onto your back, crawling over you until he was poised and ready to go;

“Yeah, need it. You’ve just broken up with some limp dick, how do you need me to fuck you?”

“W-what are the options?”

“You want slow and gentle, or you want me to fuck you like a beast and toss you around like a rag-doll”

“Beast mode please”

With a low growl he grinned as he surged forward and caught your lips with his own, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he took complete control. You felt him gripping his dick as he swiped it through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your wetness before he pulled away and grasped you by the hips as he knelt on the bed, pulling you up his thighs before thrusting his fat girth into you with one swift movement.

“HOLY FUCK!”

“That’s it Darlin, take my dick all the way. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget about anyone else that has ever disappointed you”

Gritting his teeth he moved your body like you were a rag-doll, pulling you onto his hardness as you could do little but to go limp and let your mind get flooded by the pleasure he was giving your body thanks to the best sex you’d ever had. Gripping at the sheets you felt an orgasm start to building within you;

“Sy… keep doing that… i’m gonna cum…”

With a smile and a grunt he did exactly as you asked, keeping his pace fast and steady as you lost control around him, your back arching as your legs shook and you came hard. You were trembling from the force of the aftershocks as he slowed down and finally stilled, letting you relax onto the duvet as he covered your body with his, pressing openmouthed kisses to your chest, murmuring against the soft flesh;

“These titties are spectacular”

He moved a little and you felt that he was still hard, a smirk back on his face;

“Oh i’m not done yet Darlin’, that was just an intermission”

He pulled out of you and you found yourself being flipped over, your ass pulled up as he filled you from behind this time, his thickness splitting your walls open and his massive hands found their way to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as he pile drove into you from behind;

“Feel so fucking good Darlin, love the way your cunt feels around my dick, wanna feel you cum again before i shoot my load in ya’, then you can have a breather before round two”

Your eyes went wide; this was still only round one? Fuck, Sy was an utter beast and as he tilted his hips and his dick hit just the right spot, your eyes rolled back in their sockets and your jaw hung open, the pleasure running through your veins turning your brain to jelly and all you could comprehend was Sy fucking the living daylights out of you.

Starting to tremble, your sighs became squeaks which became screams of his name as you started to cum and it kept going, your body squeezing him tighter than a vice before he finally came with a beastly roar, shooting ropes of his creamy seed and coating velvet walls.

The pair of you slumped down onto the bed, your bodies still joined as he pressed kisses to the back of your neck. Finally he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss of his warmth and weight on top of you, instinctively rolling and curling up against his side as you rested your head on his chest, the song of his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your ear;

“Fuck… that was amazing”

He gently stroked one hand over your back;

“You can say that again Darlin’. Your pussy is like heaven… never had a cunt grip me so tight and be able to take me balls deep before...”

You smiled and let your eyes rest for a moment, before you felt him shift and the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle disturbed your post orgasmic bliss. Looking up you saw him oof the cork out of his mouth before bringing the bottle of tequila to his lips and taking a large mouthful. Holding the bottle to you he grinned as you sat up and took it, following suit and still wincing at the burn as the expensive liquid slid down your throat.

Just at that moment there was a massive crack of thunder outside and an immediate flash of light, before the electricity fizzled out, plunging you into darkness. You weren’t afraid of the dark but the suddenness of it made you squeal, Sy pulling you close;

“Shhh its ok Darlin’, this place gets its power knocked out all the time cos’ its up on the hill here. That’s why there’s candles in every room”

He deftly slid out of your grasp and you heard him fumbling around on the floor before he illuminated the room with his phone, and you watched as his silhouette made its way across the room and you heard the click of a lighter. Moments later the room had a pale glow from the candles that had sat on the side table, and as he carried one back to bed you saw that he was still hard;

“How are you…”

“Still up? Oh Darlin’ i can go eight or nine rounds before i droop”

“Eight or… nine…”

He flopped down onto the bed beside where you sat, his hands behind his head and a wide smile on his face;

“So, what do ya’ wanna do next?”

You laughed softly before taking another sip of tequila, toying with the little hat that was attached to it before a sudden urge overtook your senses. With a look of amusement on his face Sy watched as you took the hat from the bottle and softly tied it to his dick, the hat standing proud on his tip;

“A perfect fit” he remarked, but before either of you could say anything else a knock at the door interrupted you.

“Babe?” a quiet voice came from the other side of the door; “You in there?”

Your heart sank;

“Its my ex… I’m gonna go tell him to fuck off…”

Sy caught your arm gently, a grin on his face;

“Let me”

What happened next was something you could only have dreamt of, and as you pulled a pillow in front of you to hide your nakedness, Sy basked in his own naked glory as he strode to the door and pulled it open;

“Yes?”

Your ex stood in the hallway outside your room, his bags at his feet;

“What are you…?”

“I’m busy keeping my girl happy. What’re you doing here?”

“I got dumped…”

“Well champ, that sounds like a you problem…”

Without another word Sy stepped back and shut the door, making sure to flip the security lock extra hard so that your ex could hear it from the hallway. Striding back to the bed you couldn’t help but to laugh;

“I can’t believe you answered the door completely naked, hard, and with a mini sombrero on your dick!”

Climbing onto the bed he lay on his back, his hands behind his head as he grinned at you, wriggling his hips so his hard dick swayed to and fro with the hat still attached;

“Oh i think it made the moment all that more memorable Darlin’”

“He’ll certainly remember it, that’s for sure”

You carefully took the little adornment off of Sy, tossing it aside as you straddled his hips and grasped his hot shaft, helping to find your waiting entrance before sinking down onto him.

The feeling of taking him inch by inch was almost overwhelming; thick and gnarled, his fat dick stretched you in every direction, and you were thankful for the added lubrication of his cum already dripping out of you.

As you started to ride him you could feel your body already deceiving you and climbing towards a rapid orgasm, and you found yourself cupping your breasts and twisting your nipples to distract yourself and let it last just a little longer. However when Sy’s massive hands rested on your hips and he started to thrust up into you, it was the beginning of the end. The final straw was when he slid one hand to your front, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles firmly against the engorged bud did it send you over the edge and you were coming again, back arched and head thrown back as your bodies moved as one in the candlelight.

Sy fucked you until the storm cleared and the candles fizzled out, just the moonlight illuminating your room when you both crawled under the duvet and fell asleep, sweaty bodies cooling in the night, sated from your energetic lovemaking.

Come morning and you were woken up by a series of featherlight kisses to your naked back and shoulders. For the briefest moment panic set in, but then you remembered your bed companion from the night before;

“Mmm Mornin’ Darlin’” he drawled, his voice low and coarse from sleep.

Turning you smiled at him before his lips caught yours for a gentle kiss. What followed was the best oral you’d ever received, followed by a steamy session of shower sex where for the first time in your life you’d felt confident that your partner was strong enough to not let you slip and injure yourself.

The following room service breakfast had been thoroughly enjoyable where the two of you had talked and laughed, swapped numbers and both made it clear you’d like to see the other again. Sy had even driven you back to the train station, where you’d attracted the odd few stares as he’d kissed you with tongues and teeth before giving your ass a squeeze.

Two weeks later.

Sy fiddled with the zippered pocket on his fatigues as he waited nervously outside the meeting room at the corporate offices. After what had seemed like an amazing night with you, he’d arrived at work on Monday to discover one of his boot camp cadets had made a formal complaint about his ‘lewd behaviour’. He knew it wasn’t you, but it had distracted him from the string of text’s you’d shared in the following days. He was thankful that you’d told him not to apologise, having started your new job and that was full on from the word go.

The door to the meeting room opened and his name was called, standing he smoothed his shirt down and nodded before entering the room. This was probably the most nervous he’d been since leaving the army; at least there if you fucked up you got a court marshall, now he was a civilian if he lost his job it meant he couldn’t pay his bills.

You were attempting to get a file out of the huge stack that sat on your desk without knocking your coffee over when your office door opened and a friendly face peered around the corner;

“Hey, you ready for the disciplinary hearing?”

“The what?... Oh, right… let me find the file…”

“Did you read it?”

Shaking your head you grinned at the manager of offsite contractors;

“Don’t worry, i’ve skimmed it. You guys brought me in to sort through this mess my predecessor left behind, I just wasn’t expecting it to be this much of a mess…”

Grabbing your coffee and the file with that day's date on, you followed your colleague through the building, attempting to scan over the complaint, frowning when you saw that the printer been running out of toner and had omitted the two parties names. Nevermind, you could always write those in.

Chewing on your pen as you shut the meeting room door, you quickly took a seat at the end of the table, looking up and only then your eyes going wide. On one side sat your ex, and someone that looked like a low rate lawyer judging by the cheap suit and even cheaper briefcase. On the other side sat Sy - Captain Syverson - whose eyes were as big as saucers and you saw the slightest hint of a smile start to tug at the corner of his mouth before he restored his poker face.

The manager introduced himself and then you;

“This is our new Human Resources manager, she’ll be overseeing this meeting”

Taking one last look at your report you took a sip of your drink before standing, keeping your face neutral;

“So, your client alleges that our employee acted in a lewd manner whilst on a team building exercise two weeks ago?”

“That is right Miss, you see…”

“And that your client wishes to pursue a lawsuit based on ‘emotional distress’ and that our employee caused the breakdown of his relationship”

“Yes Miss, Its like this you see…”

Cutting the lawyer off again, you looked pointedly at your ex;

“So, did you or did you not actually end the relationship with your partner, before even meeting Captain Syverson? Actually there’s no need to answer, i have a transcript of the text messages here…�� you looked down at your your file, although you knew the texts by heart; “And i quote “I’ve found someone new, someone prettier than you, she’s better in bed too”

You looked up at your ex who was now sinking down into his chair;

“And by lewd behaviour, did you or did you not approach your ex’s bedroom at the hotel in the middle of the night, and continue to knock on her bedroom door whilst there was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?”

The lawyer attempted to talk, but yet again you cut him off;

“So therefore, you had no emotional or romantic relationship with the person whose room it was, and therefore as fully consenting adults, our employee and your ex, were perfectly within their rights to start a romantic relationship, were they not?” you took a deep breath; “And, as you have a history of making civil lawsuits against companies that you have deemed you ‘wrong’, this frivolous attempt at extortion has now been recorded, and will be submitted to the authorities”

You lifted your phone before setting it back down onto the table. You hadn’t been recording, but it was enough for your ex’s lawyer to stand and leave the room quickly, your ex scurrying close behind. Leaning to the manager you cleared your throat;

“You might want to make sure security escorts them completely offsite”

“Absolutely. Can i leave you debrief Syverson?”

“Leave it with me”

You shut the door behind him as he left, and felt the warmth of Sy’s body behind you;

“This is a very unexpected, but oh so pleasant surprise”

Turning in his arms you were thankful that there were no internal windows to this meeting room, kissing him deeply before the giant bear of a man pulled away and smiled softly at you;

“I need to buy you dinner for what you did… you’re fucking badass”

“How did you not know what the meeting was about?”

“They just told me it was ‘lewd behaviour’. I’d been wracking my mind for the last week to figure out what i may have said or done… yeah i yell at people for a living, but i’m never lewd…”

Placing your palm on his cheek you smiled at him;

“Dinner sounds good by the way”

“Come over to my place tonight, i’ll cook you dinner”

“Will there be dessert?”

Sy licked his lips, his gaze travelling down your body and back up again;

“There definitely will be for me… i’m sure i’ve got some cookies you can have too Darlin”

#captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #henry cavill

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artnigth · 3 years

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Migraines Part 2

i made it!! Part 3 tomorrow BABY!! (probably)

MIGRAINES PART 2: Raz was walking all the way back to the Questionable Area, more specifically his family’s camp in the campgrounds. It had been a long day, he agreed to cover Gisu’s afternoon shift since she apparently had an “appointment” or something. Norma and Lizzie kept pestering him to see if Gisu actually had a date of sorts, but he knew as much as they did on that topic so that fun little conversation went nowhere. He was finally able to go home and take a nap, he was ten after all (and very tired). “RAZPUTIN!” A scream coming from above breaking his line of thought. Raising his gaze, Raz saw just as Ford Cruller flew to the spot in front of him. The senior Psyconaut might have been very old, but after Raz had fixed his mind it seemed that the senior was back in his prime. “Your brother needs help.”- the tone of Cruller's voice was concerned but not surprised, neither was Raz. “What are you talking about?” “Your brother is lost in the forest and- “QUEEPIE GOT LOST IN THE FORGETFUL FOREST?!” “Your other brother Razputin. Dion, was it? He got lost in the forest and is having a Psychic overload.”- Ford’s tone was calm but a little tired. “Dion? Having a Psychic overload? No offense agent Cruller but Dion isn’t a Psychic. But I do believe he could have gotten lost in the forgetful forest. Let’s go tell my family to go and search for him.” Both of the Psychonauts ran all the way to the Aquato camp, encountering Agustus at the entrance. “Dad! Dion got lost on the Forgetful Forest, we need to go look for him!”- Raz was tired, his tone was halfhearted and kind of over the whole situation. Agustus’ eyes were wide, he stepped back a little at the sight of Ford Cruller. Ford stayed back for Agustus’ sake, he was clearly not over what had happened and Ford couldn’t blame him at all. “How did Dion get lost in the woods?”- Agustus decided to ignore Ford’s presence focusing on his middle son and the dilemma that had been put into focus. “So that’s where that boy is… His friend came here a couple of hours ago and both her, Frazie and your mother have been looking for him since.”- Agustus sounded tense, but neither of the Psychonauts minded. “Friend? Dion has friends?”- Raz was a little surprised but not too much. “Yeah, that was Frazie’s reaction as well. Let me call them, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be happy to finally find out where he is.” . “HE WHAT?!”- Donatella did NOT sound happy about finding out where her oldest son had been all this time, scaring her children and husband even if just a little. Frazie, Donatella, Raz, Agustus, and Ford were now standing at the entrance of the Forgetful Forest, with Dion’s “friend” not being there yet. “UNBELIEVABLE. I THOUGHT WE HAD TAUGHT THAT BOY BETTER THAN TO GO INTO THE WOODS ALONE! IF YOU FOUND HIM WHY DIDN’T YOU DRAG HIM BACK, FORD?!”- Donatella kept rambling for a while her temper getting worse with each word. “That’s what I’m trying to explain, Dion seems to be having some sort of Psychic overload. His abilities being so overwhelming to his mind that he can’t control what he does. I had similar experiences when I was a young Psychic, everything was to much to deal with.”- Ford was still standing at a distance from the family, his voice calm but still concerned. “FRAZIE!! DID YOU FIND HIM?!”- a voice was heard from high into the sky. A figure suddenly falling from the sky on a skateboard and landing between Ford and the Aquatos. It was Gisu on top of her skateboard, who stepped off to be at the same level as everyone else. “Gisu?! Aren’t you supposed to be at an appointment??”- Razputin sounded ofended and blindsided. “Appoinment? I never said that.”- Gisu was clearly confused on that topic. “Adam said you had an appointment and that he needed someone to cover your shift, were you here all the time?” “Yeah… I just told Adam I was leaving early, I never said anything about an appointment.” “But… But… You know what, nevermind.”- Raz sounded defeated, Norma and Lizzie were right, and he hated to admit it. And a possible date with his brother out of all people, ugh. “So… did you found Dion, it’s been hours…” “Agent Ford did, Dion’s apparently having a psychic overload in the forest. So we are going to start a search party into the forest.”- Frazie’s tone was her typical sarcastic annoyance but concern was still heard as a shadow in her voice. “Ok, I’ll go high to try and spot him from above.”- Gisu sounded a little desperate to find Dion clearly concerned. But she was still her determined and confident self. She stepped on her skateboard and suddenly she was gone, flying into the sky. The rest of the Aquatos, and Ford separated into the forest to look for Dion. Raz and Ford went north, meanwhile, Donatella and Agustus went east, Frazie stayed back to look after the kids and just in case Dion found a way back to the camp. . . . . .

Gisu was hovering above the Forgetful Forest scanning the area below as well as she could. She was looking for that dorky acrobat that she had gotten to know for the past two months, wondering how could he had managed to hide this type of issue long enough to have such a breakdown. Throwing agent Ford from the middle of the woods all the way to the campgrounds wasn’t a small action, levitating someone that far was impressive for someone who has repressed their powers for as long as Dion has. Her thoughts were interrupted when she got close to losing her balance and falling. A force trying to push her away from an exact spot in the forest, a small clear in the forest where there was a boulder. Trees were being pushed so hard away from that spot that some were being uprooted from the ground. Carefully Gisu did her best to go as close as she could in her skateboard, eventually she had to descend to the ground since she couldn’t move forward anymore. Gisu moved forward slowly, every step felt like if she was pushing a boulder that was getting heavier and heavier with each step. By the time Gisu had gotten to the boundaries of the clear, she had to hold on to a tree or else she would have been thrown away. Looking at the boulder she could see a familiar figure sitting in front of it, with his knees covering his face and his hair being an unrecognizable mess. There was Dion, shaking and sobbing in front of that boulder. Gisu was stunned. What happened to him?! Is he okay?! “Dion?!”- Gisu’s voice echoed through clear, her tone concerned. “GO AWAY!”- Dion’s voice roared into Gisu’s ears, almost deafening the girl. “You need to calm down, you’re destroying the forest!” “GISU YOU NEED TO LEAVE, I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”- misery emanated from the boy, in all of his seventeen years of life nothing like this had happened to him. He was terrified of himself and very much lost in his own despair. Gisu stabbed the ground with her skateboard, propelling herself forward and using said skateboard as a cane in order to get the closest she could to him. Using her own telepathy she tried her best to counter the force of Dion’s own psychic energy. The closer she got, the stronger Dion’s energy became, it was crazy and she didn’t know how to handle it. “GISU LEAVE!” She kept walking onward taking no mind of Dion’s words, just a few more steps and she would reach him, but it felt as if he were miles away. “GISU, STOP!” Her strength wavered, all of his force suddenly focused on her alone. His mind was tormented by screams, guilt invaded his body. HE had thrown Ford Cruller into the sky. HE levitated an old man and threw him to oblivion. HE had killed Ford Cruller, all because of… because… “DION PLEASE LET ME HELP! I’VE SEEN THIS HAPPEN A MILLION TIMES BEFORE. YOU JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN AND BREATH!”- Her cries resonated through the clear, her skateboard started to crack under pressure, she needed to act as fast as she could. She increased the energy she was putting into protecting herself and she kept moving forward. Dion felt hopeless, he needed to get Gisu away or he would hurt her like he hurt Ford. “GISU, PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU TOO!” The whispers in his mind were long gone, replaced by screams of fury, guilt and fear. This time he knew all those voices were just him. HE was tormenting himself for what he had done, screaming into his mind until he broke and finally exploded. HE thought it was fair, he deserved to end like this. Not just for what he did to Ford but for how he treated Raz, how he annoyed Gisu with his stupid questions about psychics, how he treated the people around him, how he was bound to explode and no one, not even himself, could stop it from happening. But at least he would make sure to not take anyone down with him. Suddenly a soft sensation was felt on his shoulders, like a thin blanket. Dion looked up from his knees and there she was. Gisu holding on to her skateboard, her knuckles white from the effort. Her hair waving as if a storm was hitting her directly on her face. A soft smirk planted on her face. Her scarf missing from her shoulders and gently placed on his. Tears began to run down from his eyes, all the way to his chin. The pressure stopped, the screams wavered turning back into whispers and the world finally stopped spinning. Gisu took his hands and gently lifted them both to stand. Her hands were rough and cold from all of her mechanical projects with Otto, but for Dion they felt like a safe place, something he hadn’t felt from anyone ever since he was a child. “Let’s go back to the campgrounds your family is looking for you and it's getting dark.”- her voice was soft, a hint of relief on her tone. Dion nodded. They started walking out of the clear and reentering the forest. They had a long way back and Gisu knew it was better to hold her breath since the Aquato family were definitely going to have a rough night. END OF PART 2.

PART 1:

#dion aquato #headcanon: psychic dion #psychonauts #psychonauts2 #psychonauts gisu #psychonauts razputin #razputin aquato #ford cruller

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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

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Too Late: Gabriel Agreste (commission for miner249er)

Third chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission

Chapter Summary: Gabriel’s thoughts and time at the hospital

Previous Work

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The sterile smell of the air, the beeps of machines and muted conversations were Gabriel Agreste’s new normal and it absolutely killed him. Every move of his body was pain, even blinking seemed to bring him some amount of it, no matter how small. He could hear the TV in his hospital room, he cast it the briefest glance and grimaced when he saw it was the TVi News with Nadja Chamack. At first he paid it no mind but when he heard his name he became more alert. With his good arm he patted around for the remote until he finally felt it and quickly turned up the volume. There was no holding back his growl when he saw Alec Cataldi speaking about the “rumor” of him and Nathalie being Paris’s local villains. His hand twitched with the need to find his phone and call up his lawyers but even he knew how it would look.

Suing Alec Cataldi and TVi Studios off of a rumor? Yeah that would just make things worse. His lawyers had already done so much with making sure that that’s all that stuck was rumors. No one could prove him and Nathalie were Hawkmoth and Mayura but there were so many goddamn “coincidences” that made sure that the rumors would not go away anytime soon. They would haunt him for as long as he lived and that was his fault. He thought akumatizing Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the best thing he had accomplished. In some ways it was, because he just so happened to akumatize Ladybug. He thought he had everything in the bag. Victory had been so close, he could practically taste it on his tongue.

Then she strayed. At first he didn’t notice, it was like every other akuma, she wanted revenge. She said so. So, being a generous person, he allowed her to go after her craved revenge before he asked for the Ladybug and Cat Miraculi. Gabriel never imagined her revenge included him and Nathalie, he had never felt any resentment towards him when they first linked, but then it was like she could shut him out of her mind. Out of her thoughts. Some part of him knew it had to do with all his missing butterflies, but a bigger part was screaming about how close he was to getting what he wanted. They were well and truly blindsided.

The Protector has come in so fast it was almost inhuman, which maybe he should have expected seeing as when he akumatized people he enhanced their abilities while also giving them some kind of power. None of his alarms went off. Nothing suggested danger. Even when Nathalie had gone to check the security cameras and check news coverage to track his akuma, she hadn’t noticed. He certainly couldn’t blame her for what transpired. No, that felt like the universe telling him it was done putting up with his bullshit. Nooroo had always told him that abusing the Miraculous the way he did would come back to him, distantly he would worry about what it meant, he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was to be his masterpiece. He had always sensed her emotions, her anger, her sadness, they were always so strong and held so much potential. Yet, every time he had sent out an akuma for her, her emotions vanished so he would have to find a new target. It had been so infuriating each and every time, and then a miracle happened. Her emotions seemed to be too big to control this time, of course he knew it most likely had to do with Mlle Rossi since she was doing her damndest to convince him she was a negative influence on his son. Of course he pretended to believe every lie she spouted about the girl, there was no ounce of guilt, he just looked forward to the future akuma.

He regretted it. He regretted it so much. Gabriel frowned when he felt a tear fall, he hated feeling weak, always had. Thankfully no one was in the room to witness the rare moment of weakness. He had only cried in front of one person and that had been Emilie, but even she was guarded when she spoke to him now. Not that he didn’t understand her anger at him and Nathalie, but he wished she would forgive him and just be there for him. He needed his wife. Currently though, she was still mad and disappointed at him. He tried to explain that he did everything for her and their family so they could be happy again, but it had ultimately fallen short.

She hadn’t wanted his “excuses,” and really he could understand, or try to. When she awoke it wasn’t to a welcoming she may have expected if she had ever expected one from the beginning, Emilie came back to police tape all over their house and reporters stalking the front for a story like vultures. They pounced and the rumors grew. His missing wife just so happened to stumble out of their house after he and Nathalie were rushed to the hospital. Of course Emilie heard the rumors, when she felt like talking to him she had come and demanded answers and really, there was no way he could lie to her and he hadn’t ever planned to. Gabriel had just never expected to have to tell his wife he had maybe terrorized Paris and fought against a child, maybe two, one of which was quite possibly their own child.

He thought she would leave him, it terrified him, haunted his every waking moment. That thought hurt worse than everything the Protector did to him in the name of justice. Gabriel didn’t want to think anymore so he decided to just tune into the news once more and hope they were past speaking about him. “We have a video of The Protector going into the Agreste Mansion and after a period of time, leaving. Now we don’t know what happened inside but hours later we had you and your team there at the mansion along with other news stations when M Agreste and his assistant Mlle Nathalie Sancoeur were brought out of the mansion on stretchers. Then not long after, in your words,’ a dazed Mme Agreste was spotted coming out of the house.’ That was after the police search!”

Guess he hoped for too much. He groaned and looked away from the screen and resolved to just stare at his heart monitor. He blamed his private nurses for putting the TV on the news because he had no recollection of changing the channel to the news before he had been given his daily dose of morphine and had taken his small nap. Some small part of him told him they did it on purpose, that they knew what Nadja and Alec were going to be reporting on and put the show on purely to annoy and torture him. Even if his team of lawyers made sure no charges could stick to him or Nathalie, the stink of the allegations and rumors lingered.

He could see it in the way other nurses would speed walk past his room. Could see it in the way his bodyguards would flinch when he would speak to them or ask them to do something when they weren’t guarding his door. It was behind the smiles his doctor would give him during his vitals checks. It was carried in the air of the whispers of those who passed and hoped he didn’t hear them speaking. Some didn’t care if he heard and would loudly speak of his villain side full of contempt and poorly held anger. He saw it in the way the hospital wing counselor, yes each wing had a counselor apparently, would leave a pamphlet about their group therapy. Not just any group therapy, akuma victims, whether it be turned into akumas or directly targeted by akumas, you were encouraged to join. Since he and Nathalie were “for some odd reason” targeted by the Protector even when they said it was a random attack not done by the akuma, they were heavily encouraged to join in. Even if it meant they had to be wheeled in on wheelchairs.

Gabriel did not need that. He absolutely did not. There was no way he was going to sit in a room full of people he had akumatized and listen to how he ruined their lives. He had an imagination, he had a pretty good idea how royally he screwed up. Though he hadn’t known it at first, he hadn’t even thought of it when Nathalie and him were on their way to the hospital. Pain wasn’t on his mind, no, it was anger. He had been furious that his plan had backfired so spectacularly, and he immediately started planning on revenge. There was no realization, there was no sympathy, not until he heard the news. When the police had been investigating his house for any signs of the “intruder” Emilie had stumbled out from the “basement.”

It was then and only then that Gabriel realized what he had done. Everything he had done, terrorizing-because really, that is what he did-Paris, made everyone live in a constant state of emotional staleness that was now exploding in uncontrolled fits of tears and yelling, and what for? Absolutely nothing. Emilie hadn’t needed him to go on some crazed vengeful mission like he had believed. There was no need for him to don the Butterfly Brooch and be the “madman” everyone knew as Hawkmoth. The name they still whispered about whether consciously or subconsciously when having a breakdown or feeling even the slightest bit upset. There was no need for him to involve Nathalie and make her wear the very same damaged Miraculous that he believed had taken his wife from him. Yet he did. His assistant, no, his dear friend was paying that price now because of him.

Nathalie. He hadn’t even seen her since their admittance into the hospital. Of course he asked how she was doing but doctors were vague and nurses were worse because they would change the subject or stay quiet and you knew. You knew the person you asked about wasn’t doing as well as you had hoped. Distantly he knew what he was doing to everyone in Paris, he somewhat acknowledged the damage he had done but nothing prepared him for the guilt that ate at him for what had happened to Nathalie. It would seem as though Emilie held some ill will towards him because of it as well. When she came and he asked how she was doing, his wife would only respond with, “How do you think Gabriel?” and nothing else. Gabriel desperately wanted to know but it was like everyone in the hospital made some odd pact to never inform him and it was driving him mad. He had just wanted his wife back. His old life back.

Now he had a wife back who, while still staying with him was determined to show him how wrong he had been. Gabriel didn’t know what part of everything she was more mad at (maybe it was the emotionally distancing himself from their only child and leaving said child to fend for himself in a social world that he knew nothing about) but he would do anything to make her happy. Though she was not letting him in, she was there physically but she had closed herself off emotionally at the moment and really, could Gabriel blame her? No but that didn’t make the heartache hurt any less when she wouldn’t smile at him, when she would only come for an hour or two at most instead of the full visiting hours like she once did when he had been in a car crash when they first married. She had visited everyday and had snuck in his favorite snacks because she knew he hated the hospital food.

When she visited she brought him pastries from Tom & Sabine’s and every time it was like more salt added to his wounds. Like she was doing it on purpose to punish him in her own little ways. Emilie would still sit by his side and hold his hand, but her smile was fake, it was fake coming in and it was fake leaving, and the hand around his heart would grip harder the more he saw it. She would of course be visiting today and though Gabriel always loved to see her, he didn’t know if he could handle her emotionless smiles. Not when his pain was throbbing both physically and emotionally. Usually he could ignore the looks, the whispers, and just about everything else, but today he felt unnaturally raw.

“Oh you’re awake. Good afternoon.” That was Emilie’s voice.

Gabriel turned and saw her standing in the doorway. “Hello Love.” He winced at how hoarse his voice sounded.

Immediately Emilie went to his side table and poured him a cup of water which he gratefully took. “You always seem so surprised when I come. I come everyday Gabriel.”

“Well...It’s just you don’t seem like you want to be here is all. Not that I can blame you but…”

Quiet. He hated when she was quiet. Then she sighed. “It’s not that I don’t Gabriel. I’m just...I’m just so mad. I’m mad that you’re hurt, but I know it’s your fault that you’re hurt in the first place. I’m mad that it’s your fault! I’m mad that you left our son emotionally. I’m mad you got Nathalie involved! But I don’t want to be mad Gabriel. It feels bad to be mad right now because I know you’re in pain. But I also know you. And I know you’re not completely sorry about what you’ve done.”

“Emilie! I am sorry, I really am!” He cried.

“I need more convincing than you just saying it. I’ve been thinking about it and I want you to go to that akuma therapy they have here. Then...and only then do I think we can begin to heal.” She said with such finality that Gabriel had to swallow. It was absolutely the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew Emilie wouldn’t budge, all he could do was nod.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “I know it won’t be easy, but I think this will be good for you, for us.”

“You might be the only one who thinks so.”

“Adrien thinks so too.”

“You’ve spoken to him?” Gabriel asked, and maybe it was a bit desperate but his son hadn’t visited him once.

“Yes. He’s not ready to see you yet…” Emilie admitted as she looked down at her hands. “He barely started visiting Nathalie.”

He had visited Nathalie!? But not him. Not his father. No he couldn’t be mad at him, not after everything he put his son through, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. That didn’t mean he wasn’t blinking back tears. His own son didn’t want to see him. God, what did that say about him? About everything? Nothing good if he put thought into it so he resolved to do the opposite and just avoid the thoughts until they took him by surprise. If he thought Emilie’s anger was bad, he could only imagine Adrien’s, he had never seen his son mad. He had never allowed him the pleasure of emotions before, and seeing how everyone’s little emotions resulted in meltdowns, he feared what his son’s repressed emotions would look like.

And really Adrien had a lot to be angry about. Number 1 being that he was Chat Noir, part of Paris’s dynamic superhero duo, and his father was Hawkmoth the villain he was fighting and had to stop. Yeah, there was much to be mad about. “How is he?” He settled on asking.

“I’m not going to lie to you Gabriel, he’s not okay. Our baby is hurting,” the because of you was implied but unsaid, “his friend is still missing, his friends are all having mental episodes over some Lila girl and everything that has gone down, and he is still having to deal with the fact that people talk. Plus I mean it’s not everyday you find out your dad is a supervillain, one you were supposedly fighting.”

He couldn’t hold back the wince. “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”

“Honestly? I don’t know Honey,” even though his heart sang at the term of endearment it also broke a bit, “I want to say yes, but I just don’t know.”

“We’ll just have to see I suppose. You should go check on Nathalie, Dear. I am feeling tired,” it was a lie, or was it? He was exhausted but whether that be because of his body being in pain or because his emotions were everywhere was anyone’s guess. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yes?”

“Yes. Yes of course. I’ll bring some Eiffel Apple Bon Bons, I know you probably haven’t had any in a while.” She still remembered his favorite candies.

“That would be lovely, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too Gabriel. We’ll...We’ll get through this.” Will we? He watched as she walked out and even after that just stared at the door. He was really going to go to that akuma therapy...for the first time in a long time, Gabriel was scared. Scared if everyone would whisper or would they make the animosity toward him known? But the thing he was the most terrified of? He was terrified of what he would hear there in the group therapy. He didn’t know if he would be strong enough to listen.

The TV ripped him from his thoughts and he almost gave it thanks. “I don’t think I have to remind everyone just what Hawkmoth has done to this great city, to its people. From babies to the elderly, from the smallest of things to the most emotional moments of our lives, they have all been prey to him. One has to wonder if he had a heart at all. And if he did, I have to ask, was it worth it? Was it worth it Hawkmoth? This has been Alec Cataldi.”

“And Nadja Chamack.”

“And we are signing off, see you next time Paris.” The two hosts said in unison.

Almost.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml salt #gabriel agreste #emilie agreste #nathalie sancoeur #nadja chamack #alec cataldi #gabriel agreste salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #angsty thoughts for Gabriel #revolt of the akuma #goggles commission #gabriel has to face consequences like an adult #and he no likey

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Fourteen

We’re here. The final chapter. Y’all. I’m gonna cry.

@lumosinlove thanks for these characters!!

@donttouchmycarrots thanks for being my partner in crime during this whole mess of a story <3

And thank you, lovely readers!! For sticking with me for this crazy rollercoaster of a story, for encouraging me when I felt like quitting, and for always being so, so wonderful. I appreciate y’all more than I can say.

CW: prison, food, anxiety

Clandestine Masterlist

The drive back was silent, punctuated sharply by the two empty seats in the van. It was something they should’ve seen coming, but yet were completely blindsided by. Sirius had been on their side for so long now, it seemed odd to picture him anywhere else. It was like he’d been there for years already, fitting in seamlessly and making friends fast, filling a gap that hadn’t been obvious before but felt like a chasm now. He belonged in Gryffindor with them. And Regulus, while more reserved and distant than his brother, didn’t seem to deserve the fate he’d found. The main motive that kickstarted this whole mission had been him – all for him – and he still couldn’t avoid being dragged down with the Snakes.

Remus was on the phone with a contact from the FBI – he had been since they’d taken Sirius away – trying his hardest to find any loopholes he could. He was… actually strangely calm. Methodically tackling one idea after the next, his analytic brain working overtime. Logan could understand, though. Being productive was helpful. It was when things settled down and got quiet, when all you could do was sit there and wait…

That was when things got tough.

His leg bounced up and down in anticipation the closer they got to the cabin, his one-track mind stuck on one thing and one thing only – getting a blond safe-cracker into his arms again. Not having Leo with them had been like missing a limb, making everything feel out of balance. And even thought he was safe, he was still too far away. Logan couldn’t stand it.

Finn reached over and placed a hand on Logan’s with a knowing smile. He was ready to be home, too.

Gravel crunching under their tires only fueled the eagerness. There were lights still on in the cabin, a warm, inviting pull. The front door was open before the cars had pulled to a complete stop, revealing Leo and Hope and Lyall. Julian was presumably asleep, given the hour. Logan’s seatbelt was thrown off and the door closest to him was yanked open, Finn hot on his heels.

Leo bounded down the steps of the porch and flung himself at the two of them, finding every inch of space between them and filling it, a soft sound escaping from his lips as he held on tight in a one-armed grip. Logan and Finn both stumbled back a few steps at the impact but quickly returned the embrace, Logan’s face buried in the junction between neck and shoulder and Finn’s forehead pressed against the blond’s. They seemed to take their next breaths in tandem, slow and steady, as they leaned into each other. Time slowed, everything in the periphery faded, and the world, previously off-kilter, evened out in equilibrium.

Finn suddenly realized he felt the coarse, scratchy texture of Leo’s sling pressed up against him and pulled back a little. “Careful, baby.”

That made Leo pull back. “Why?” He glanced over them nervously. “Are you hurt?”

Logan sighed long-sufferingly and cupped Leo’s face in his hands, looking him in the eyes with a fond expression that belied his exasperation. “No, but you are,” he moved his hands to smush Leo’s cheeks, causing Finn to laugh, “so take it easy.”

Leo smiled – a real one this time, not one of the fake ones he’d given them before they left – and relaxed. After a quick kiss from Logan he asked, “So it went well? Mission’s done?”

Logan and Finn both froze at that. Finn looked over to Remus, who was still on the phone (like he had been for the past hour at least) and frowned.

“Not quite.”

“We can talk inside,” Leo said, looking worried again. “there’s lots of food for y’all.”

He wasn’t wrong. Food covered pretty much every open surface of the countertops, ranging from pancakes to grilled cheese to the cinnamon swirl muffins Leo brought to their first briefing all those months ago. Finn smiled at the memories and instantly snagged one on their way to the kitchen table. His eyes landed on Talker, who was explaining something to Hope as she took a look at his leg. Nat, Kasey, and Alex were piled onto one couch, looking tired and each with a grilled cheese sandwich in hand. He could see Remus on the porch every once in a while when he passed by a window as he paced, phone pressed to his ear.

It didn’t bode well.

Logan sat down with a plate of pancakes drenched in syrup and started telling the story, voice a quiet murmur and only interrupted when he shoveled food into his mouth. Finn wondered how none of them had really seen this coming. In hindsight, it made sense that there would need to be a trial – after all, Sirius and his brother weren’t innocent. Finn wasn’t sure what happened next, though. Criminal trials and sentencing weren’t part of the job for them. He hoped they could get the brothers out of this mess, though. If anyone could find a way to do it, it would be Remus.

At least the Snakes were done for. The information on the flash drives was enough to lock them away for a very, very long time.

He took a bite of his muffin, no longer really hungry, and listened to Logan talk.

***

Remus sat down on the porch swing, tired and stressed and not at all ready to quit. He listened to Alice, his only contact in the FBI, rattle off some statistics that he couldn’t even begin to understand. And he wasn’t trying to be rude – that really wasn’t his intent – but he needed to act quickly about this. So he grimaced and cut her off. “Can we get them placed in another prison? Or even in solitary until we can figure something out? If the Snakes can get to them…”

Well. Remus didn’t think they’d show much mercy to the two people mainly responsible for putting them in jail.

Alice sighed, the sound of her rummaging around in her desk filtering through the phone. “We can try. Since they did help you guys, we should be able to swing it. If something jeopardizes their lives, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Remus’ heart twisted – a deep, chronic ache under his ribcage that refused to let up. “Do it fast. I’m going to start reaching out to lawyers.”

“Lupin, it’s four in the morning.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. “Thanks for all the help, Alice.”

He hung up, then braced his forearms on his knees, hands gripping his hair, and breathed.

If there was one thing Remus Lupin was good at, it was planning. It was his job, and a big part of the reason he’d switched from field work in the first place. He relied on structure to get through his days, needed the stability in order to function.

There was none of that.

This was being adrift at sea, constantly assaulted by the waves and the current without rescue in sight.

And Remus had no idea what to do.

His phone pinged, catching his attention. A text from Alice flashed across the screen.

I’ve got a friend who’s a lawyer, and she’s a damn good one. I know you’ll want to do your research on her yourself, but I can vouch for her too. Here’s her contact if you want to reach out.

The contact number and email were listed under the name Dorcas Meadowes.

***

Dorcas Meadowes was, to put it simply, awe-inspiring.

Black curls, a dark complexion, and a serious, no-funny-business expression on her face. Her office was neat and organized, a few pictures around the place of her and a blonde girl with a wide grin and freckles. There was a small pride flag on her desk. Without a word, she motioned for Remus to sit, cool and composed and ready to get to work.

That was all it took for Remus to instantly respect her.

“So I’ve heard some of the story from Alice, but I’ll need you to start at the very beginning. Don’t leave out any details, tell me everything.”

Remus did, settling into the chair and getting comfy. It was a long story, after all. When he was done he looked back up at Dorcas, whose face was expressionless except for a single, raised eyebrow.

“That’s…” she trailed off with a low whistle.

“Yeah.”

“Well, the good news is that, if we’ve got enough evidence to back your story up, we can reduce his sentence by a lot, maybe even get him released.”

Remus sagged back into the chair, relief taking over and wiping out the tension radiating through his muscles. “Great.”

He’d known, logically, that they’d be able to reduce his sentence. With all the work he put into taking the Snakes down, there was no way they’d give him a full sentence. But getting him out of there for good…

Remus had never wanted anything so much in his life.

Dorcas leaned forward, powering her laptop on. “We’ll go visit him in the next few days and tell him what’s going on, but first we need a plan. Here’s what I’m thinking…”

***

Sirius hated this.

He was bored, he was tired, and – more than anything – he was lonely.

In Gryffindor, he’d become so accustomed to always having at least someone with him at all times. It was usually Remus, but he’d also grown close to most of the team. And it was nice at the time – god, did he miss it. But it was painful now. He’d witnessed what his life could be like, happy and surrounded by friends and possibly in love, and now he was back to the way his life used to be. Alone and on the wrong side of the law.

He hadn’t seen Reg since they’d been escorted into isolation for their own safety. Which don’t get him wrong – he was grateful for it. Knowing Riddle, they wouldn’t have survived the night if they were all being held together. But it was too quiet now.

The door to his cell rattled and Sirius looked up sharply. A guard was standing there, unlocking his door and opening it.

“Come with me,” the guard said, sounding bored as he opened the door further and held out a pair of handcuffs. Sirius looked at him hesitantly, not moving an inch. The guard rolled his eyes. “You have visitors.”

Sirius perked up at that, the only thought running through his head being Remus. He knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to take this sitting down. He’d be fighting to get Sirius free, no doubt about it. He wasn’t sure who else would be visiting him, anyways – if someone was here, it was sure to be Remus.

So Sirius got up and held his wrists out to be cuffed, then watched as the officer pointed down the hall.

“This way.”

It took all the self-control Sirius had to not run, to slowly put one foot in front of the other until he finally reached his destination. The guard moved around him to open the door and then Sirius was moving again.

He spotted caramel curls as soon as the door opened to the visitation room and felt his shoulders sag with relief. “Remus.”

Worried brown eyes followed him as he crossed the room quickly to sit in front of him, separated by a thick wall of glass. The movies weren’t lying, apparently. But it was so good to see him that Sirius didn’t care.

Remus looked tired. Unfortunately, that didn’t surprise Sirius at all. He knew the tendency to overwork all too well at this point. More than anything, it made Sirius want to get out of there, to wrap him up in his arms and let him take a nap there, to make sure he was taking care of himself. He settled for giving him a stern look instead.

“You need to get some sleep.”

Sirius expected a sharp, witty retort. Some sass, a comeback of some kind. Instead, Remus did the unthinkable and just smiled. “I missed you.”

Sirius sighed, softening at the gentle admission. He’d missed Remus too, of course. More than he could really put into words, and it had barely been a day. The smell of his shampoo, the quiet, reassuring presence of him by Sirius’ side, those eyes that just seemed to see right through him and know even the things Sirius tried to keep hidden. He found he didn’t mind it too much - not when it was Remus.

“I missed you,” he echoed in agreement, refusing to look away until someone cleared their throat loudly. Sirius looked over to a woman sitting next to Remus, looking unimpressed. Sirius hadn’t even known she was there, as wrapped up in Remus as he was.

Remus, to Sirius’ endless delight, blushed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Remus blush before. It was cuter than it had any right to be. “Um, Sirius this is Dorcas. She’ll be representing you in court.”

Right.

He had to go on trial.

Dorcas took over from there. “We think, with the evidence we have, that we can get the charges reduced, maybe dropped if we’re lucky. If you can think of any evidence we don’t know about, we can use that to strengthen your case, too.”

Sirius nodded, relieved. That sounded better than he thought he’d get, to be honest. “What about Reg?” he asked, looking between the two.

Dorcas was very hard to read, Sirius realized. And Remus looked confident… until he looked over at the lawyer. Then his expression flickered.

And Sirius’ heart sank.

“That’s a bit trickier,” Dorcas stated slowly, treading carefully. “The thing is, he never tried to get out. He stayed with the Snakes. And I know it’s not easy to get out of situations like that,” she rushed to continue when she saw the look on Sirius’ face, “but the fact still stands. And he didn’t do as much to help take the Snakes down, not like you did. We can probably reduce his sentence, but he’ll be in prison longer than you. I don’t think we can fix that.”

Sirius felt himself being torn in two different directions. He wanted to be free, to be able to live his life again. Maybe make a home in Gryffindor (or maybe move in permanently with a certain spy), get a job as a consultant. He’d make sure the poor houseplant in Remus’ apartment survived, the poor thing, and he’d keep Remus’ favorite tea stocked in the cupboard. He’d be able to relax for – well, the first time in a very long time.

But his brother.

He was the main reason Sirius got out in the first place. The reason he ended up in Gryffindor, this entire mission was for him. To get him out, to make sure he was safe.

What was the point, if he was stuck in jail while Sirius got to walk free?

He could practically hear his brother telling him how stupid he was being in that dry voice of his, but he pushed the thought away. He’d made up his mind, and it was practically impossible to sway him when that happened.

Sweet, caramel eyes might test him, though.

Sirius looked up at Remus guiltily, dreading the response he was going to get. But yet again, Remus took him by surprise and smiled sadly.

“I understand.”

Those words hit Sirius like a freight train. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes stinging and throat getting tight. “I’m sorry.”

Remus just shook his head. “Don’t be.”

Sirius loved him.

Remus glanced over at a confused Dorcas. “He can’t leave his brother. Whatever sentence Reg gets, Sirius wants to do the same.”

She was silent for a long time, looking back and forth between the two of them. Then she sighed, seeming resolute. “Well then we’d better get those charges as low as we can.”

***

Four Weeks Later

Leo found Remus in the courthouse hallway during the trial recess before they were supposed to reconvene for the sentencing, looking seconds away from pacing from one side of the building to the other. The past few weeks had been hard on all of them. Between coming to terms with everything that had happened in the recent months, to trying to figure out the evidence they needed to bring forward to try and get the charges dropped against both Sirius and Regulus, to the strange feeling in the Agency brought forth by Sirius’ absence, it had been weird for all of them. Remus had been hit the hardest by all of it, though – and understandably so. That didn’t make it any easier to watch, though.

He’d been running himself to the bone the past four weeks, going above and beyond to make sure everything was in order for the trial. He looked ready to drop, if Leo was being honest.

But he understood. If it were Logan or Finn in Sirius’ place… well. He’d already figured out just how far he’d go for them.

He put a hand on Remus’ arm, trying to be as calming as possible. “You’re going to be ok,” he said carefully, choosing his words meticulously. He didn’t want to be cold, but he didn’t want to get Remus’ hopes up only for them to be dashed.

Carmel eyes met his own, and Leo sighed at the stress he saw there. He looked tired – so tired.

“What do you need?” Leo asked quietly, hoping for some sort of guidance on how to help him, how to get that look off of his face.

Remus just laughed under his breath, a sad sound. “There’s a lot of things I need.” He shuffled on his feet, gathering his sleeves in his hands. “But a hug would be a good start.”

Not hesitating, Leo gathered him into a hug, the stretch pulling at the scar tissue in his shoulder that was finally free of a sling. Remus was tense and still for a while, then relaxed into it. Leo wished he could do more, wished he could make any sort of difference in this situation. But everything was so far out of their control now; the only thing left to do was wait.

“Whatever happens, we’re here for both of you. You’re not alone in this.”

Remus stepped away with a fake attempt at a smile. “Yeah.”

There was a visual cue that neither of them seemed to catch and people started filtering back into the courtroom, making Remus’ face grow paler and more pinched. Leo stuck by his side as they walked back inside, trying to ignore the soft sound Remus made when he saw Sirius again – all the way in the front, in a jumpsuit that looked too big for him, hair longer and eyes a little duller than they remembered, fidgeting with something in his cuffed hands. Regulus was next to him, head down and avoiding everyone’s eyes. Leo just stuck to Remus’ side as they squeezed into the row of chairs with the rest of the Agency, making sure Remus was right in the middle, surrounded by so many of the people who cared about him most. Finn and Logan sat down next to him with grim smiles.

Leo reached over to tangle his fingers with Finn’s, feeling him squeeze back gently. The bruises were completely gone from his face, and he was walking limp-free now. He dropped his head onto Logan’s shoulder, having to angle his shoulders down to rest somewhat comfortably against the shorter man.

Leo would never get over the height difference.

“I’m taking a nap when we get home. This is so stressful, oh my god.” Finn sighed, making Leo smile.

Home.

That was still somewhat new for the three of them. After a few days back in their separate apartments in Gryffindor, they’d realized how incredibly codependent they’d become during their mission. Leo would find himself staring up at the ceiling most nights, worrying about the other two, until he’d get a phone call from one of them and they’d end up driving to each other and collapsing in bed together, squished together just like those hotel rooms they’d shared. And it had gotten to the point where there wasn’t any point living in different apartments when they ended up together most nights anyways, so Leo and Logan had packed up their things and moved in with Finn. He had the largest bed, anyways.

So yeah. They lived together now. And Leo was ridiculously pleased about it.

They were taking that vacation in a few weeks, too – the one Finn had first brought up in the back of a getaway car, tears in his eyes and blood on his hands. Somewhere warm, just like he’d promised. He’d get to watch Logan tan and Finn turn red like a lobster, only to go straight back to pale. They’d get some time to relax and not stress about work – just themselves and the vast expanse of beach and water in front of them.

Leo couldn’t wait.

“We’ll take that nap together.” Logan answered Finn quietly, turning his head to meet Leo’s eyes as he pressed an affectionate kiss to Finn’s head. Leo smiled at him, the sense of one chapter ending and the next beginning washing over him.

Whatever came their way, they’d be ok. They’d proven that already.

The crowd hushed as the judge sat back down, face impassive.

“We have reviewed the evidence and testaments brought forward in defense of Sirius and Regulus Black.” He started, looking down at the two in question critically as everyone in the courtroom seemed to hold their breath.

“It still doesn’t change the fact that they committed crimes while with the organization,” the judge stated firmly, then continued, “Regulus and Sirius Black are hereby sentenced to one year in prison.”

The gavel slammed.

Remus sat there in quiet disbelief.

They’d done… everything. They’d worked so hard for the past month in attempts to let Sirius and Regulus’ sentences reduced – and that was technically a reduced sentence – but it was still more than any of them had been expecting.

A year.

They hadn’t done enough.

Remus almost missed all the movement around him, too busy staring at the back of the seat directly in his line of vision, but his gaze snapped up when an achingly familiar voice called his name.

Sirius slowed to a stop as he passed Remus on his way out, eyes wide and frantic. Desperate. It broke Remus’ heart, more than it already was. “Wait for me?” He asked intently, like his sole focus was on Remus and his answer. He shoved his open palms out, revealing what he’d been fidgeting with during the entire trial. Remus looked down to find an origami flower, conveying all of Sirius’ hopes for the future within the delicate folds.

Remus wished more than anything that he could reach for him; to pull him in tight, hold him close, and refuse to let the guards take him away. He also had the half-formed plans of a jail break already in mind, even though he knew Sirius would never agree to it. It was then that his eyes locked with the gray ones he’d come to know better than his own and he knew – he knew that he’d wait, however long it took.

Remus loved him.

It wasn’t a grand revelation, it wasn’t sudden. In all honesty Remus had probably felt that way for a long time now, the truth prodding at the back of his head, nagging at his subconscious. He loved Sirius, plain and simple. Simple except for the fact that one of them was going to jail for a year. And yet, no matter how complicated it got, no matter how much time went by, it was the easiest decision Remus had ever made.

Well. If love made people crazy, Remus was certifiably insane.

He smiled a little tearfully at Sirius and nodded fiercely, picking up the paper flower delicately.

“You know I will.”

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: food #cw: prison #cw: anxiety

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themaribatpit · 3 years

Text

Jasonette July Day 9: Pixie

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Pixie

Rated: T

(By popular demand, a slight continuation of Game On @aespades, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone.)

A/n: Edits have been made because I noticed the paragraph errors AFTER posting this.

Marinette was really starting to miss the days of working with Chat Noir at that moment, and that was saying something. “Bugaboo” and “My Lady” were starting to feel more tolerable when she wasn’t being called that every second of the day. Being called “Pixie” regardless if she was Ladybug or Marinette, was really starting to get old, fast. For reasons that she could not understand, that’s what Jason insisted on calling her. Sure, she was a lot smaller compared to him, but that coupled with needing to hang back and let Red Hood and Arsenal deal out the heavier hits was starting to get on her nerves. She was just as experienced as them, she had a mentor just like they did, and had been saving lives for just as long as they had. Ever since she had joined them, she thought that she would be fighting alongside a team again. Now she was either supporting them or using her sewing skills to add improvements to their suits. She was in good hands, some might say hands that were a little too good. All this frustrated her to no end because she liked Jason, she would have thought that someone who had been a vigilante from a young age would understand what it felt like to be constantly underestimated.

“Unbelievable,” she snapped one night as she came home from another mission. She pulled off her pink flats and threw them across the room as she entered her apartment. She didn’t even get the chance to use her Miraculous, she was effectively closely guarded bait on that last mission. She slumped on the bed in frustration and Tikki hovered over to her, her antenna drooping in concern. “Some days I want to wipe that smile off of that stupid face, just to prove I can.” Marinette grumbled into her pillow. She didn’t hate Jason, she knew that there was some good in him. Roy was the more optimistic and cheerful of the duo, like Jason, he had also been mentored by a more experienced hero. Jason was a lot more reserved and cynical by comparison, though he wasn’t a complete Ice Prince like his brother Damian.

“Maybe it’s because they’ve been doing this for a little bit longer.” Tikki suggested, after Marinette complained about it for the umpteenth time.

“Batgirl and Black Bat are only a few years younger than me,” she reminded her, “and there’s no doubt that they could hold their own in a fight. No one gives them stupid nicknames, just shortened versions of their real names out of costume.” Tikki awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “I bet you that he barely remembers what my real name is.” Marinette was getting increasingly furious at the thought “it’s always ‘Pixie this’ and ‘Pixie that’. I know I’m shorter than him, but I have taken on giant robot dolls, literal monsters, and I once rode a dragon!” Marinette yelled.

Marinette throws a pillow at Tikki, only for it to phase through her. “What does he think I do as Ladybug? Create Christmas presents with my Lucky Charm?!”

At this very unfortunate moment Jason happened to return back to their apartment with Roy in tow. “What’s got you riled up, Pixie Pop?” Jason quipped after seeing the frustrated look on her face. This was the last straw for Marinette, “Stop calling me that! Does it please you to demean me? Does it bring you joy to fucking bully me day in and day out?” Jason and Roy take a step back from Marinette’s outburst. Marinette continues “I have kept Paris safe ever since I was 13, I didn’t have the World's Greatest Detective or a Robin Hood cosplayer helping me. It’s always you two off saving the day while I’m the distraction. Do I have to remind you that I’ve beaten Robin and Red Robin?”

“So have we, right Roy?” Jason says look backwards to Roy. Roy meanwhile was slowly walking backwards with his arms up in surrender.

“Don’t drag me into this please.” Roy pleaded.

Marinette continued her rant, “So why do you keep calling me Pixie Pop like I'm some pet or stuffed animal?” She storms up to Jason and pulls him down to her height by the collar.

Roy sensed the tension and wanted absolutely no part in making it worse, “You know what? I’m gonna go get us some shawarma.”

Jason looked over at Roy “Really, Roy?” A slight scowl made it clear he knew Roy was essentially leaving him to face Marinette’s wrath.

“All I know is that they are open at four in the morning and I’m hungry, so I’ll be right back.” Roy said, and he left the room. Just as he thought Roy was out of earshot, Jason heard sprinting down the hallway. Roy had abandoned him to face the burning blue fire in Marinette’s eyes.

Marinette let go of him, she didn’t need them, she had made that absolutely clear.

“I’m done, I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be underestimated all of the time.” she muttered harshly, “to always be kept at arm's length, because no one trusts you to do anything right.”

Marinette had no idea just how deep her words cut him, and Jason couldn’t really blame her. As far as she knew, compared to his brothers, he might as well just be ‘the one with the guns and leather jackets’. He hadn’t really told her about what had happened all those years ago, he didn’t even like to think about it himself. Roy was one of the few people who understood what he’d been through. It was true that both of them started out as sidekicks, maybe the red in their costumes helped them stand out from their mentor’s shadows. Their time as young crime fighters had left their scars. They were blindsided when they found someone who had been a heroine since she was 13, and took to it with the same determination they had when they were younger, more innocent, more naïve.

As Marinette flitted around the room, gathering her things, every nerve in Jason’s body was screaming at him to stop her. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, trying not to think about just how small it felt around his hand. “Look, I’m sorry,” he began. What could he say to her? That he knew exactly what that felt like? That the last thing they wanted was for her to end up like them? That every hit they took in a fight was one that she wouldn’t have to, so that she wouldn’t turn out broken like they were? The problem was she didn’t see them as broken, she saw them treating her like glass. If she was put through the same ordeal, Jason had no idea what he would do. If she shattered just like they did, then in a way, they would have failed her. If she came out still whole, still brimming with light, then what did that say about them?

Marinette pulled her arm away, “I’ll show you, then you’ll be sorry” she told him bitterly. With her backpack in hand and shoes on her feet, she pushed past him and walked out the door.

Jason remains staring at the open door, regretting how he had treated her. He grew fond of her during their time together as ‘Red Arse Bug’. She had a cute face, cute voice and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. “Stupid, stupid” he says to himself, facepalm at each syllable. Even with the now hostile relationship with Marinette, he knew he had to follow her. He had to stop her from making the same mistakes he did, so that she would not become like him. He put on his helmet and left to search for clues as to where Marinette would go and what she would do.

Marinette wandered through Gotham city, unsure what to do now that she stormed out of the apartment she shared with Jason and Roy. She felt like everyone belittled her, Selena did, and now so did Jason. She needed to do something eye-catching, to prove to everyone that she didn’t need their help.

As she wanders past the Iceberg Lounge, she gets a spark of inspiration. If she could take down the Penguin single-handedly, nobody in Gotham would doubt her ever again. With unyielding determination she calls out “Spots On” and turns to Ladybug, ready to take on one of the cruelest crime lords in all of Gotham. Ladybug walks up to the front door and kicks it down, sending the door flying and knocking any unfortunate goons behind it. Penguin’s gang whipped out their guns, tire irons, pipes and anything that could count as a weapon and were now charging in to stop the intruder.

Marinette swings her yo-yo to wrap around one of the goon’s ankles, before swinging him around crashing him into several others. A guard points his rifle behind Ladybug, she spins around, sending her yo-yo towards the gun and pulling it from his hands. As the guards begin to group up together in an attempt to minimise the effectiveness of her yo-yo, Marinette looks up and begins to smirk. She flings her yo-yo upwards and hooks it onto a chandelier. She yanks it down, sending the chandelier crashing onto the unsuspecting guards.

Marinette dusts her hands and proceeds to walk through into the main hall. She proceeds to kick down that door too, she is then greeted by The Penguin surrounded by his gang. “I’m taking you down Cobblepot.” She shouts, swinging her yo-yo as if it was a lasso, preparing for a fight.

The Penguin stands up from the seat of his large chair. “What are all you idiots waiting for?” He shouts all around him. He points his umbrella at Ladybug, and begins shooting his umbrella gun. “Get her!” The penguin roars, at this cue every gangster charges at Ladybug.

Marinette gracefully dodges and weaves around Penguin’s army, knocking each one out one by one. Until only The Penguin remains, she wraps her yo-yo around his umbrella, easily disarming one of Gotham’s most wanted. She walks towards The Penguin, slowly unravelling her yo-yo in anticipation of tying him up and sending him to Arkham Asylum.

The Penguin takes out a little remote control from his suit pocket, “It's not over yet.” he snarls and pushes a button. At that moment the entire building shakes.

“Born on a Monday” a voice groaned, followed by another loud thud. “Christened on a Tuesday.” the same voice groaned. Then a giant hand shoots up from beneath the floor, “SOLOMON GRUNDY” roared the giant as it emerged from the floor.

Red Hood and Arsenal had been watching the fight from a careful distance outside the Iceberg Lounge. “Well, she’s managed to take on Penguins goons just fine,” Arsenal observed through the small pair of binoculars, “she’s certainly had plenty of time to get very creative with that yo-yo”.

Red Hood’s hand was still itching to reach for one of his pistols, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. “By the way, how was your shawarma?” he asked sarcastically.

Arsenal looked over at him, raising an eyebrow “Hey, I’m not the one who said the one thing that just made her angrier, you were on your own there.”

“Nice to know you had my back.” he grumbled.

“Oh I do in a fight, you just decided to be an ass and poke the angry girl with a stick.” Arsenal pointed out.

Their banter was interrupted by an earth shattering thud, following a loud groan “Born on a Monday.” At that moment their blood ran cold. Red Hood and Arsenal rushed towards the Iceberg Lounge. Both worried for Ladybug and aware of what comes after that dreadful nursery rhyme.

“What are you two doing here? I can handle this.” growled Ladybug as Red Hood and Arsenal arrived.

Before either Red Hood or Arsenal could answer, they were interrupted by Solomon Grundy smashing the ground where Ladybug was standing. Ladybug gracefully dodged the punch, grappling onto a ceiling lamp to swing towards Grundy with a kick.

The giant grabbed Ladybug while she was mid-air and threw her towards her partners. Red Hood catches her, holding her tightly as the two fly across the room. He shields her from the shock, taking the brunt of the impact as they crash into the wall.

Red Hood groans “You okay?” Ladybug looks up to see she was relatively unharmed, but Red Hood had taken the brunt of the throw. Concern visible on her face as she sees Red Hood’s damaged helmet, and the bruised and bloodied face beneath.

Their quiet moment together was interrupted by Arsenal's cries for help. Every arrow he had in his quiver wasn’t making a dent in Solomon Grundy. Ladybug decides to cast Lucky Charm in desperation, and swings her yo-yo up. The ladybugs converge to form...a polka-dotted stick of dynamite.

“Arsenal!” She called. “Tie this to the end of an arrow, Red Hood and I will keep it busy.” She tosses the dynamite to Arsenal and tells Red Hood to tie Grundy down.

Ladybug using her yo-yo grabs on to Solomon Grundy’s left arm while Red Hood uses his grappling hook to hold on to his right arm. Leaving Grundy exposed and immobile, giving Arsenal the opportunity for a clear unobstructed target.

Arsenal draws and aims the special Lucky Charm Explosive Arrow. The giant zombie growls “Arrow Boy no hurt Grundy.”

“Arrow Boy yes hurt Grundy” quipped Arsenal, before releasing the arrow causing a thunderous explosion into Solomon Grundy’s face. The giant slumps, Ladybug and Red Hood quickly release their hold and watch its body fall back into the hole in which it came from.

Solomon Grundy’s body lays motionless in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge as the three peer over the hole in the ground, “Let’s get outta here before the GCPD or worse, Batman arrive” Red Hood points to the front door, and the three of them leave the lounge to head back to their apartment.

As the three arrive home, they each find a nice comfortable spot to collapse onto. Jason claimed the sofa, slumped down Roy in the middle of the living room floor and Marinette sat at the dining table. “I vote for a week off.” groaned Roy.

“I second that motion” agreed Jason.

“I still have design work to do.” Marinette told them, not really looking at either of them at that moment. She was torn between appreciating their help, and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to handle the situation herself like she thought.

“Still that was one hell of a fight, and hey, you still managed to take on a squad of goons by yourself.” Roy said, “I’m so proud” he said dramatically pretending to wipe away a happy tear.

He nudged Jason in the leg, “um, yeah, good work” he said awkwardly, slightly lost in thought. Marinette smiled slightly, before turning her attention back to her little fairy friend perched on the table.

“So does this mean Red Arse Bug is back together?” Roy asked enthusiastically, Marinette wasn’t really paying attention.

The name still needed work, for one thing. For once Marinette felt like her powers were being used in harmony with their abilities, but she wasn’t sure if it was a feeling that she should get used to. Marinette could still vividly remember seeing Jason’s bruised and bloodied face beneath his helmet. Jason stood up and walked over to the fridge, looking for ice to dull the swelling on his face.

“Not with that name,” Jason grumbled, not entirely sure if Marinette was willing to stay after their argument. Someday, somehow, he would tell her the full story of what happened to him. Right now, that was a whole Pandora’s Box that he just wasn’t prepared to open. Nestled at the bottom of that box was hope, a hope that no one else would meet that same fate.

“...Lucky Shot?” Marinette suggested as she carried Tikki over to the sofa and sat down. Both Jason and Roy looked up, it made some sense, seeing as they both used projectiles and she had her lucky charms. Jason tentatively made his way back to the sofa, ice pack in hand.

“Sounds better than ‘Red Arse Bug’.” Jason remarked, as he sat back down.

“Well, let’s see if our little adventure made the news” Roy said, as he reached for the TV remote. Jason tuned out Vicki Vale’s voice as she reported on the fight that took place at the Iceberg Lounge.

As Roy slept at their feet, Jason knew if they were going to continue working together as a team, they couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.

“Hey Marinette.” Jason speaks softly. Marinette's ears perk in surprise, hearing speak her name for the first time. “I’m sorry, for what I said and how we treated you. You’re right.” He gestures to the sleeping Roy on the floor, “Both of us started out as sidekicks, we both grew up in the shadows of Batman and Green Arrow. Both old men with impossibly high standards, everything we did was never enough.” Marinette listened intently as she shuffled closer to him on the sofa. “We’ve both been to hell and back, Marinette. Literally in my case.” he explained, Marinette glanced down at Tikki for a moment, as if silently asking if her magic was somehow involved in this. “But always remember, we have each other’s backs, just like The Three Musketeers.” Jason told her, Marinette giggles at his literary reference.

“Roy’s Porthos, you’re Aramis, I guess that makes me D’Artagnan.” Marinette chimes. Jason loved to see that hopeful smile on her face. What scared him the most was the idea that something or someone would try and take that away from her. They couldn’t keep treating her like glass, and they couldn’t keep treating her like a sidekick if they wanted to keep her from making their mistakes. They were all going to fight like hell to make sure this world didn’t break her the way it broke them. Marinette leaned in close and rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her calm even breathing, fanning his neck as she slept peacefully at his side.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat #ml x dc

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the-ghost-king · 3 years

Text

So I'm not going to start like an Anti-Chiron tag because I don't find that enjoyable personally, but every so often people ask why I dislike him so here's essentially a "masterpost" of my thoughts on that situation for when anyone asks, just so I have it to explain some...

This isn't nearly a full list, and there's many more "incidents" that make me less than fond of Chiron, I don't hate the old man but he leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not a fan of that. He's a very twisted character.

- The Lightning Thief

This quote is literally just after Percy's mom "dies", they're all sitting on the porch of the Big House right after he's finally woken up after days of sleeping, and that's the line Chiron pulls out on him.

That's straight up emotional manipulation which was entirely unnecessary in the context of what Chiron was trying to explain. There wasn't a single reason for that, in the slightest.

Immediately following that, and Percy, who canonically has anger issues, does his best to remain calm, he is immediately threatened by Dionysus, and Chiron doesn't even tell Dionysus off for doing that; Chiron just let's it happen. It's Grover who has to speak up to tell Dionysus off...

The only reason Chiron comes out looking like a old guy in this scene is because Dionysus was so much worse in his behavior, at one point intimidating Percy with his power over madness.

- The Titan's Curse

This is the aftermath of when Nico ran away upon confirmation of Bianca's death. When Percy is telling Chiron about the situation, Chiron wishes Nico had been eaten alive rather than recruited into an army.

He'd rather a child be dead than fight against him, and he openly tells this to other children he's in charge of. If Percy went missing would he have said "I hope he was eaten <3" as well?

I don't blame Perry for not delivering the truth here, it was done in an effort to protect Nico; which wasn't something Annabeth had planned on doing... I don't blame Annabeth for that though either, she's been beneath Chiron so long that she probably doesn't realize the shady stuff he does, and to her "going to tell" probably was the "right" move because she was a child...

But the fact that Chiron believes Nico truly would be better off eaten than alive :/

- Tower of Nero

This quote from Tower of Nero shows that Chiron lied to a bunch of young children (most of them were young because the older campers are largely dead because of the war or too old for camp now). It wasn't just a little white lie that adults sometimes tell kids either; they were walking into battle and he told them it was a field trip.

Did he even begin to explain the danger he was putting these kids in? Did the children understand their situation? And how dangerous it was?

Kayla has been blindsided over the years into thinking that telling children they're going on a field trip instead of fighting a battle is something to make a joke of and not be questioned... (Again, I don't blame her she's only like 12 in the book, but still)

Apollo also agrees, which isn't on Chiron but it's a whole mother reason why I can't stand Rick's interpretation of Apollo...

<><><><><>

This isn't me being like "oh Chiron is the worst most evil character ever" I just think that he has numerous flaws which are largely ignored in favor of the "perfect wise teacher" narrative when in fact Chiron and Dumbledore share a lot of.. Offputting qualities.

I do think that some of the situation is simply a result of Chiron having his hands tied behind his back by the gods some. And he even goes so far as to confirm this in a scene of TLT

However many of the scenes in which he exhibits behaviors like that in my first three screenshots are not related to anything the gods require and are, in fact, of Chiron's own free will.

Some things I would blame Zeus and the council for, such as how he withholds information from Percy to an excessive amount for long periods of time even when Percy straight up asks about things. I could easily see that being Zeus trying to prevent Percy from claiming the prophecy as his own, and I could see reasoning that maybe Chiron had sworn over the River Styx or something similar.

But those things don't apply to Chiron making such an unnecessary comment about Percy's mother so close to her "death". It doesn't explain why he would say he hoped Nico had been eaten out loud, and it doesn't cover the fact that he led children into a battlefield without telling them that's what was happening.

I think the context of Chiron's choices and comments would be different if the campers were older. If they were in their late teens or early twenties for the most part, I wouldn't really have much to say about how Chiron handled the situation.

But this man is in charge of children and extremely young teenagers, Percy is only 12 in TLT, maybe if he would have been 16 or 17 then I could give Chiron a pass, but he wasn't. Within the context of the comment he made in the Titan's Curse, Percy is only 14 and Nico is 10 at the beginning of the book... You don't wish a 10 year old had been eaten alive by a monster no matter how bad you think the alternative is, and if you do wish that you don't say it out loud to a group of other children. In the battle from Tower of Nero we get a quick look at the battlefield, and although Ben's age, and the age of another girl fighting alongside him are never confirmed they are implied to be fairly young, and we know Kayla is only 12 at the time too; yet Chiron told them it was a field trip instead of a battle, limiting the time they would have to mentally prepare themselves for what was coming.

On top of that, the nods the reader gets to the fact that Chiron can't act out against the gods depletes over the course of the series. After TLT the amount of times the situation involves the gods interfering with what Chiron is allowed to say lessens, and by the time the Heroes of Olympus series comes around, these limitations on his speech is almost entirely gone. Yet as seen in Tower of Nero he still does morally questionable things in regards to how he treats the campers.

Like I said, I recognize that in many scenes Chiron's hands are tied behind his back because of the gods.. But there are undeniably things he does of his own free will that are, in the nicest manner, very :/

This also isn't a full list of comparisons just a few notable scenes. I don't think Chiron is equally as bad as Dumbledore, but I think it undeniable that Chiron has some significant flaws built into his character design.

A good character has flaws, and there's nothing wrong with having a character that doesn't always conduct themselves properly or have good intentions- it's actually good writing, and I can appreciate that, but for some reason I find myself personally rubbed the wrong way by Chiron. This doesn't make Chiron badly written, or poorly designed, in fact I would say Rick's Chiron is very well designed in lots of ways, but I just don't like how it's never acknowledged by anyone in the series.

Like I said, I'm not starting an anti-Chiron situation, I just think little events like those mentioned, the way he's built a child army, and how he doesn't even try to plead with the gods over raising the ages on campers being allowed to battle is a little sus. But it more so bothers me that there's no attention payed to this problem anywhere in the books, not even by a side character or Luke, nowhere.

I don't actually care that much and this isn't that important to me, but sometimes people ask why I don't like Chiron and this is basically just my explanation to hand off to them... It's not even so much that I dislike Chiron entirely, he's well written and has his "good" moments, I just don't like the way other characters interact with him and his actions.

It's more a personal beef with him rather than an aspect of poor writing or him "being bad"... PJO in general (and HoO/ToA to a much lesser extent) shows that there's not such an inherent good vs bad in the world, and that sometimes people are victims of circumstances in some situations, or they're horribly misguided in their actions, but the series does a good job of showing those people as human still, and I applaud that.

I don't really know how to tie this up in its entirety, but there's nothing wrong with having a morally grey character who does questionable things and in many aspects it is good writing. I think Chiron is a result of Rick not thinking through the implications what he's doing in lots of situations, and I can see a fairly consistent drop in Chiron's characterization from PJO-ToA which is consistent with most other aspects of Rick's work.

I also want to clarify that if you like Chiron and disagree with me, that's absolutely 110% okay, I just personally dislike Chiron and that's on me. Like my problem with many of Rick's other immortal characters, I think he missed important aspects of them in some manner and slightly (or entirely in some cases) mischaracterized them in comparison to their original myths.. Some of these characters he came around on and fixed their character in many aspects to their more "correct" characterization (like Hera), while others (like Chiron and Apollo) he never quite figured them out. Which is a running complaint I have with Rick so I'm just adding this to his tab.

But yeah, I don't hate Chiron I just dislike him and those are different things, and I don't think it's a bad thing to have a morally questionable character, Chiron just personally rubs me the wrong way and I just wanted to explain that more fully because I've been asked about it multiple times.

Also I apologize for not adding a [read more] to this, it's a complaint of mine often when scrolling through the tags but I'm on mobile currently and don't have immediate access to a computer so~

#pjo #Hoo #Chiron pjo #percy jackson #long post

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