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hydroxsalesman · 1 month

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A week late, but I finally beat Elden Ring! Main storyline, Mohg, Malenia, Placidusax... basically everything that matters! I plan on replaying it in about a month as a new character so I can finish certain sidequests I never activated or accidentally left unfinished and prepare for the DLC, but until then? Have some scattered thoughts about the endgame/bonus areas!

(NOTE: This is actually a month late, and my thoughts and feelings on certain parts of this post have changed, but I'm posting them as-is for the sake of prosperity since I genuinely meant to post this at the original date. I just have a bad attention span/tendency to get sidetracked by other projects, ha ha)

I dreaded burning Melina because I was expecting it to be agonizing, painful, and depressing to watch. It was still depressing, yet she seemed to go peacefully meaning that once she was dead and gone, I couldn't help but feel... relieved, oddly enough. I really wish we got to see more of her because even after looking at the Frenzied Flame ending where she's revealed to potentially have some sort of connection to that queen the Godskins followed, I still feel like I practically understand nothing about her aside from the fact that she's a mysterious little enigma wrapped up in a riddle.

I knew what to expect since I went there super early via the Four Belfries, but Farum Azula is one of my favorite dungeons. It's hauntingly beautiful, the enemies are challenging in just the right way, the connection to the dragons, all the weird fuckery surrounding the Placidusax fight (as well as the reveal that he's a goddamn PREHISTORIC ELDEN LORD), and the way it culminates in a fight against best boy Gurranq/Maliketh...

The Godskin Duo can burn in hell. Seriously, fuck that boss. I gave it an honest try but after the thirteenth death and runback past those annoying knight enemies guarding the way, I said fuck it and used Sleep Pots. Absolutely no shame, no regret, and I'll gladly do it again upon replaying.

What are the Godskins even doing there, anyway? Aesthetically they actually fit in pretty well with the crumbling, ethereal architecture, but they stick out like a sore thumb among the beastmen, dragons, and knights that I assume are meant to back up Maliketh in protecting Destined Death. Were they trying to skin him and/or Placidusax, or did they want Destined Death back to empower their Black Flame magic?

Maliketh was a stupidly hard boss who broke me over his knee before Tiche and I were lucky enough to catch him in an easy to manage pattern, yet I didn't get angry the way I did fighting the Fire Giant or Malenia. Overwhelming as his crackhead acrobatics may be and how easily you can die after eating one of his Destined Death blasts, his moveset still feels very learnable and manageable: I was just getting impatient and trying to plow through the game since I wanted to get it over with at that point. Plus, he's just plain cool. :^y

Also... Jesus Christ, poor guy. There's something gutting about the way he sounds genuinely shocked and betrayed by you coming after him at the start of his boss fight. Sorry, man! I don't want this any more than you do... ;_;

A part of me wishes that the Ashen Capital was a proper dungeon instead of a big, empty wasteland... but at the same time, I REALLY wasn't in the mood to explore another, so maybe it's okay that it exists as a glorified boss rush chamber. And speaking of...

I knew Gideon would betray me, but I was surprised by his reasons for doing so. I figured he was biding his time to find the perfect moment to strike like a snake in the grass, but he was just... broken. Genuinely distraught by whatever the hell it was that he saw. He wasn't by any definition a good person (The Albinauric Village and Latenna say hi, as does Nepheli), but I couldn't help but feel a bit sad when all was said and done. He was surprisingly easy, which is sad because the gimmick of him having a bigger spell pool based on how much information you relayed back to him was really cool and inspired.

Godfrey kicked ass, and honestly? If he and Hoarah Loux had seperate health bars and Serosh did more than just spectate during the Godfrey phase, I wouldn't mind if he was the final boss. Even as an Astrologer getting help from Nepheli (who I think is supposed to be his daughter? Weird that she had nothing to say about fighting him) it felt like a true contest of champions: a contender to the throne vs THE original Elden Lord (in the Age of the Erdtree, anyway). A "mere" Tarnished of no reknown vs THE great granddaddy of all Tarnished: the consort of a God and a one-man genocide machine who ate Fire Giants for breakfast. An honorable duel that devolves into a horrifying, brutal cage match once the kid gloves (and spirit lion) come off and he starts pulling out suplexes, choke slams, and all sorts of other crazy moves that made me feel like we briefly crossed over with the WWE and Fist of the North Star. And despite being, at his core, an insane berserker whose bloodlust made him incapable of being a proper lord without Serosh to keep him in check, he was still man enough to congratulate me for a battle well-fought. Seriously, what a cool fight.

Also, him cradling Morgott's corpse at the start of the fight and the muted sadness (accompanied by Serosh's furious howling, which I'm certain is supposed to represent how he REALLY feels) he showed really makes me wish we got to see more of his relationship with both his Omen kids. It'd be heartbreaking to see him react to how deeply into depravity that Mohg has fallen, for example.

And speaking of Mohg? A surprisingly easy boss (granted, a friend warned me to pick up the tear that helps deal with his NIHIL countdown), yet one of the coolest in terms of aesthetics, music, fighting style... but good god, he's an evil bastard. I love him, don't get me wrong, but man: between the kidnapping and heavily implied rape of Miquella, the corruption of Albinaurics he was trying to save, the destruction of the Haligtree (doesn't seem to be intentional but I don't think it's a stretch to say that he gives zero fucks lol), he's one of the best contenders for the game's most evil villain.

Fellow superboss Malenia however was brutally, punishingly hard. And what's weird is that overall, she's honestly pretty unremarkable as a boss. Fast and relentless, yes. But her attacks are for the most part, very learnable. She staggers really easily and if you've got a powerful summon like Tiche or one of the Banished Knights helping you out, she'll spend at least half the fight knocked flat on her ass. And even her Goddess of Rot form looks scarier than it actually is since the above still apply... except for her butterfly clones. I still don't have the dodge timing down for that one. However...

Malenia's still stupidly hard because she's propped up by a really stupid gimmick and one obscenely overpowered move. The health drain on every single one of her attacks, even if you block them, is ridiculous and something that I feel is a huge source of "Fake Difficulty" as TV Tropes calls it. Likewise, Waterfowl Dance (or as I like to call it, the Anime Bullshit Attack) is just such an insanely overpowered attack that I'm surprised it avoided the cutting-room floor and made it into the game as-is without any patches to make it at least a tiny bit more reasonable. I eventually got the timing down (Pull a Joseph Joestar and run away from the initial flurry of slashes, roll into the follow up attacks and away from the finisher) and pulled off two perfect dodges during my winning attempt, but damn.

I assume the Scarlet Rot's messing with her mind considering what happened to Radahn, but it was weird that Malenia went from 0-to-100 rambling about the toll that the Rot has taken on her to declaring that you must die. Ditto for not being able to tell her that you know where Miquella is and that you either killed Mohg or want her help in taking him down. Apparently there's a LOT of scrapped material involving her, Miquella, and her boss fight, and that honestly makes a lot of sense considering that in her unused dialogue, she seems to only attack you if you actively attack her since she seems to have been conceptualized as a character that you could befriend.

The Haligtree was a great (if tough) dungeon and the Brace was just as breathtaking as the Royal Capital... but good god, the trip there sucked ass. The Concentrated Snowfield and that little evergaol town crawling with Albinauric archers/INVISIBLE BLACK KNIFE ASSASSINS were genuinely sadistic game design. The Snowfield especially what with its insanely overtuned enemies and snowstorm-induced fog. Not looking forward to doing that one again, to put it lightly.

Back to the endgame: the final boss. Oh BOY. On one hand, Radagon was a great fight and while not as manly and brutal as Godfrey? It was still an intense, dramatic, atmospheric showdown worthy of the Second Elden Lord/God herself. Radagon's overwhelmingly powerful, dangerous at range and up close, and while I thought it was a shame that you didn't get any insight to his personality? His cold silence and machine-like efficiency actually made him intimidating in a way that Godfrey/Hoarah Loux wasn't. While you can't afford to make many mistakes, he was definitely a worthy final boss...

And then a certain eldritch sea slug came right the hell out of nowhere and soiled it. SOILED IT. I guess it's meant to be the Elden Ring's true form... maybe? I'm still not really sure what that fight was about, other than that it sucked major dick. When it isn't constantly running away from you, you're having to run away every time it puts on a major light show leading to a real slog of a fight that made me think to myself "Can I fight the boss now, mommy? Please? Now? How about now? Can I attack- oh, not yet? Ah." Having to fight Radagon again every time you died to this thing also sucked not because he himself sucked, but because he's tough enough to a major drain on your flasks and leave you in a position where you can't afford to make too many mistakes when this stupid thing rears its ugly head.

For what it's worth, the atmosphere was really nice and the idea of fighting a weird alien thing in a forest of Erdtrees representing the Greater Will itself as your final trial was good in theory. But in practice. Painful. Just painful. I like to imagine that Gideon saw this boss fight and that's what turned him into such a defeatist. He was trying to spare us from an awful final boss...

And to cap things off... I feel like I understand Marika a whole lot less after beating the game than I did going in. I legitimately cannot tell what she was trying to accomplish, or if she had any genuine redeeming qualities since intentionally or not, she comes across as sort of an unstable sociopath. And Radagon as well as her relationship with him just make her even more of an enigma. I dunno, maybe I'm just dumb, but she's genuinely hard for me to read.

#hydrox rambles #hydrox plays elden ring #elden ring #elden ring spoilers

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sweetbitterimpossiblecreature · 3 years

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A Brief And Concise Summary Of Is Wrong With The ACOTAR Series

I think we can agree that a lot of ACOTAR is pretty iffy. Consider this a very brief refresher.

What's Wrong With Feyre/Rhysand (juxtaposed against Feyre/Tamlin)

Rhysand drugs and sexually assaults her in Book 1

This is "for her own good". Because he "has no choice". Despite the fact that, from what we know of the plot, Amarantha thinks that Clare Beddor was the one Rhysand was diddling, and is only interested in Feyre because Rhysand, "her" man male, has taken an interest in her.

If we extrapolate from this we can figure that Rhysand is the one directly putting her into danger.

Now, let's be clear: drugging someone is bad. Sexually assaulting someone is bad. One could argue there were extenuating circumstances. But if, in such a situation, what your mind goes to is "I know, I should assault this person... for their safety" I have questions about your moral qualities. There were a million things he could have done. He could have done whatever he did to Clare - that is, remove her ability to feel any pain - easily. He could have helped her escape. Under The Mountain, he - while still there unwillingly - has a lot of power, as Amarantha's side piece. Maybe this would have resulted in him being punished- however, he is hundreds of years old and a badass motherfucker, and she is a nineteen year old human girl.

Now, onto Tamlin. Obviously not a lot of people really ship F/T anymore after ACOMAF, because compared to F/R, it's boring. I read another person's post about it, which was very enlightening: they said that Feyre's personality is essentially a mirror. When she is with Rhysand, she's snarky and malicious- because she is "bouncing off" his energy. When she's with Mor she's super feminist and "in awe of her strength". On the other hand, Tamlin is kind of an empty character. He's a pretty boy with anger issues, which should be more interesting than it is. SJM manages to make him bland. Because Feyre has nothing to bounce off of, (a lot of this is from the person's post), she and Tamlin together is mainly just him introducing her to his world.

What Tamlin Does: prevents a skinny twenty year old from going on dangerous missions with him and combat-trained soldiers, accidentally blows up a room with her in it, and, at the end, prevents her from leaving the house.

This is not a Tamlin apologist post. Obviously it was really fucking gross of him to do that, and their relationship was toxic. However, a lot of his abuse stems from their inability to communicate, as well as own negligence. He does not knowingly and purposefully sexually assault her or rape her mind. And tbh, leaving a girl without combat training at home while he goes on missions with a bunch of muscled sentries is... kind of reasonable?

Again: not a Tamlin apologist post. It was abuse. However, if Rhysand is "allowed" to sexually assault, mind-rape, and drug Feyre "for her own safety", why is Tamlin demonized for preventing her from leaving his mansion "for her own safety"?

Another pertinent point: Rhys is never punished for sexually assaulting her. It is brushed off as part of his "mask" or that his hand was forced. Jesus Christ my dudes, his hand was not forced under her skirt. If he has to maintain his gross rapist abuser tyrant oppressor mask... why? Who did that benefit beside him? None of his actions remotely helped Prythian. They were done solely for his buddies - five people safe in a rich hidden city - and no one else, which is explicitly stated.

Finally, the power dynamic is fucked up. Feyre is less than twenty five years old. Rhysand is 500. There is a tendency in fantasy romance to romanticize a centuries year old man with a young girl, because the man does not show symptoms of age, and so it is easily ignorable. However, can we just briefly acknowledge how fucked up it is? Rhys is over five times older than Donald Trump, Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, and other known predators/abusers. She is twenty. That is really fucking gross. She is in a vulnerable position and he takes rampant advantage of that.

If he had wrinkles, liver problems, and erectile dysfunction, more people would acknowledge it.

Let's be clear: I'm not saying writing a book with an uneven power dynamic is automatically bad. For example, in The Locked Tomb series, which is in my opinion THE BEST FANTASY SERIES THAT HAS GRACED THIS EARTH (lol i'm starting fires), one main character Harrowhark Nonagesimus is in a position of power over Gideon Nav, the other main character. However, this is not glossed over or romanticized. Gideon resents Harrow for this- there is a relationship of mutual antagonism, fraught with unwilling familiarity and intimacy from growing up together. They are roughly the same age. While there is a certain power dynamic (in that world, there is a dynamic of necromancer and cavalier, i.e. sorcerer and sword) the "empowered" character (Harrow) emphatically respects her and does not abuse this power, although both would of course deny this, and she does make a show of threatening and being aloof. In short, while Gideon obeys her, Gideon also has power over Harrow, and the idea of what is essentially slavery is not romanticized.

Feyre Doesn't Face Any Consequences For Her Own Actions

Let me present a radical notion: a guy preventing you from leaving his house does not justify completely fucking ruining his country and harming the people inside it.

In other words: Tamlin does not deserve what she did to him.

I know that sounds iffy. We're conditioned to think that if someone is an abuser, then they are the scum of the earth, they deserve to die, torturing/murdering/doing anything to them is completely A-OK. However, here's another radical notion: someone harming you does not justify you doing worse.

Obviously, the effects of psychological abuse can cause you to hurt other people (see: Nesta), but Feyre deliberately and maliciously (oh, God, that insufferable POV of her in Spring Court; she reads like a cartoonish Disney villain) dismantles his country. She uses sexual manipulation (Lucien), torture (causing the sentry to be whipped), and mind-rape (who didn't she do this to? lol).

A summary of the entire first half of ACOWAR: "It smelled like roses. I hated roses. For this capital offense against my olfactory system, Tamlin and the entire Spring Court deserved to burn in hell. I knew exactly what I was doing. I smiled at him sweetly: no longer a doe, but a wolf. He didn't see my fangs.............." *aesthetic noises*

Man. I'm starting to think SJM had a horrible experience at a Bath & Body Works and took it out on the rest of us. Don't do it, Sarah!! I know Pink Chiffon and Triple Berry Martini are way too strong, but don't take it out on an innocent population!!

She steals from Summer Court (there are, yk, other solutions to theft. Like maybe asking politely) and ruins Spring Court. Her boyfriend - yeesh sorry, MATE - does nothing while a dozen Winter Court children are murdered.

Now: moral ambiguity is not automatically bad. Again using The Locked Tomb as an example, in the second book (spoiler alert), Harrowhark has a sort of moral ambiguity. She was raised from the beginning to worship the King Undying as God, and so she obeys him without question. Because of this, she commits a lot of crimes in His name: she "flips" - i.e. kills - the life force of planets, and she plots murder (albeit the murder of someone who tried to kill her first). There is no attempt to justify this. There is also no attempt to paint her as a virtuous and yet also badass Madonna figure. She is desperate, plagued with the "wreck of herself", and the book clearly displays her moral pitfalls. While her POV is of course colored by her mindset, it also is limited by her lack of information, and we as readers can acknowledge that.

BACK TO ACOTAR: Feyre is seen by everyone as gorgeous, formidable, and essentially perfect. Rhys sees her as flawless, "made for him", wonderful, beautiful, blah blah blah. (THEY ARE SO BAD FOR EACH OTHER; THEY EXCUSE AND GLORIFY EACH OTHER'S CRIMES, IT'S SO BAD, GUYYYS). Tamlin is insanely batshit in love with her, or whatever. To the Night Court she's the High Lady. In this way she personifies the Mary Sue character. (Excerpt from the TV Tropes page on Mary Sues: "She's exotically beautiful, often having an unusual hair or eye color, and has a similarly cool and exotic name. She's exceptionally talented in an implausibly wide variety of areas, and may possess skills that are rare or nonexistent in the canon setting. She also lacks any realistic, or at least story-relevant, character flaws — either that or her "flaws" are obviously meant to be endearing. She has an unusual and dramatic Back Story. The canon protagonists are all overwhelmed with admiration for her beauty, wit, courage and other virtues, and are quick to adopt her as one of their True Companions, even characters who are usually antisocial and untrusting; if any character doesn't love her, that character gets an extremely unsympathetic portrayal." Sound familiar?)

There is the Ourobous scene. And yet, paradoxically, while presented as an acknowledgment of her flaws, it is in fact a rejection of them. She sees her own brutality... and instead of recognizing that she has these deep, deep moral flaws and realizing that she needs to grow and be better, she in fact "accepts" them.

Guys: Self love means: "I'm important to me, so I'm going to get a massage today after work", or "heck, why not splurge on some expensive lotion, you only live once" or "you know what? I had a tough day today. I'm going to get that strawberry cupcake". SELF LOVE DOES NOT MEAN "oh, I accept all the war crimes I have done, I love myself". LOVING YOURSELF DOES NOT MEAN ABSOLVING YOURSELF OF ALL WRONGDOING.

It's this refusal to acknowledge wrongdoing that is so grating about ACOTAR. It's so goddamn one-sided. And you can tell that after Book 1, SJM decided to completely change the trajectory simply because of how jarring Book 2 reads compared to the first one.

Also: Feyre is a very, very young girl (compared to the other ruling fey) who did not know how to read for the majority of her life. She has no experience whatsoever in politics. Her being High Lady is not a win for feminism.

Rhysand: He Sucks

First, he is 500 years old. He should be written as such, not as some 20 year old virile frat boy feminist. Fantasy is all the more compelling for its elements of realism, which is a concept that SJM does not appear to grasp.

Second of all, his morals are absurd. He is written as the Second Coming of Christ, as someone who can do no wrong, ever, and his flaws only serve to make Feyre love him more. Anything shitty he does is written as part of his "mask" and she can See Beneath It and knows that it "hurts" him to maintain this "mask".

Fellas, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO MAINTAIN THIS MASK???? There is no reason for it. If A) he does not give a shit about Court of Nightmares (we'll get back to that), only about Velaris, and B) Velaris is hidden/protected from the world, what is he pretending for?

It would not hurt him politically to be seen as someone who cares about his country.

"Pretending" to be "Amarantha's whore" does not in any way shape or form benefit the macro-world that is Prythian. In Amarantha's name, he commits atrocities. He commits war crimes; he systemically oppresses entire societies. It doesn't even really benefit Velaris, because Velaris is already hidden.

Let me put this in a real-world perspective. This would be like if Donald Trump was suddenly like: "I know I was a shitty president but IT WAS ALL PART OF MY MASK, WHICH WAS TO PROTECT THIS MICROCOSM OF PRIVILEGED PEOPLE THAT I CARE ABOUT". Like: okay? Sorry, or whatever, but I don't actually give a shit. What about the parents of the children who died? What about Clare Beddor? What about the people who were held in slavery, murdered, tortured?

Rhysand: omg it sucks that my cousin Mor was oppressed by this toxic misogynistic culture from the Court of Nightmares.

Also Rhysand: lol whatever, who gives a shit about Court of Nightmares. They all suck. They meanie. Lol what did you say? That there might be other girls just like Mor who are oppressed by this system? Lol whatever. I can't do anything, I gotta maintain my Mask. I gotta sit on this throne and show the entire Court that not respecting women is completely okay.

In summary: by parading Feyre around as his "whore" (!!) he demonstrates by example that it is completely okay for the Court of Nightmares to abuse their women.

A good ruler cares about all his people. Rhysand cares about a tiny tiny fraction of his people: those who were fortunate enough to be born into Velaris.

God, I'm exhausted. Onto Nesta:

The only character who successfully breaks the Mary Sue effect Feyre exerts on her people is Nesta. Her POV for the first half is a joy to read.

Obviously it sucks that Nesta was a huge bitch to Feyre for the beginning of her childhood. However, it was wrong for Rhysand to threaten her- he is a man male with a huge insane amount of power, and it is not okay for him to threaten to bring the brunt of it down on a young girl because she was a bitch to his girlfriend.

I've seen a lot of discourse on the morality of F/R sending her out of Velaris. Here is my two cents:

It was okay for them to cut her off of their money. If they don't want to enable her self-harm, that is their choice. Again, it's their money, even if it wasn't fairly earned (Rhysand born into an enormous fortune).

It was not okay for them to banish her from Velaris with the implication that she was an embarrassment. Let me explain.

If Rhysand and Feyre are talking to her as sister/brother-in-law, then that is that. They have the complete right to express disapproval and try to help. However, they should not be using their royal privilege against her.

If they are talking to her as ruler to subject, then they have the power to banish her from the city. However, a ruler would not give a shit about a random subject getting drunk and having sex. So, they should not be talking her about her problems as a ruler to subject.

I've heard it compared to her being sent to rehab. However, rehab is a system designed to help people with certain problems. It has specialized medical centers and involves therapy. Nesta gets her life threatened multiple times. It is not rehab.

In summary: why did SJM inflict this upon us. Throne of Glass was actually good! GAHHH! After the first few books she completely whipped around and introduced the idea of males and mates and fey and that C is actually A and the quality took a huge nosedive. Sigh.

Final horrible but unmistakable truth: The entire ACOTAR series reads like a bad A/B/O fic. I hate to say it but it's true. We're lucky there were no heat cycles. OH WAIT

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti acotar #anti acofas #anti acomaf #anti everything #anti feyre #to some extent #mentioned: the locked tomb #mentioned: gideon the ninth #mentioned: harrowhark nonagesimus #anti #strongly anti #pan-int #that's my ao3 tag!#meta #my post

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the-last-airblender · 3 years

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Chapter 5: The Siege (part 2)

This is part of the Run series, check out part 1 here and the masterlist with the previous chapters here

Notes: here’s part two!

You whirl around, ready to grab your hidden throwing knives, but then see it's Hal.

He raises his hands and smiles hesitantly. 'It's just me.'

'Sorry.' You let out a sigh of relief and smile back. 'It's not like I can stab you right now, anyway.'

Hal chuckles and walks over to the balustrade, leaning against one of the small columns supporting the domed roof. The corners between the columns and the cupola are adorned with intricate stone wickerwork, just like the balustrade, which you can therefore partly see through. These graceful patterns seem to be almost the only thing not made out of volcanic rock; where the interior walls are mostly plastered white, the rest of the three-storey house has a red-gray tone that blends in nicely with the landscape.

'How are you feeling? People saw you running upstairs as if your life depended on it.'

You look up and silently curse your lack of subtlety.

'I really needed some fresh air', you sigh. 'I think the pastry from earlier didn’t agree with me. But I’m feeling better now.' You give him a warm smile. 'Thank you.'

'We can stay out here for a while', Hal suggests. 'This is my favorite place in the whole building, actually. Or, well, outside the building, I suppose.'

You chuckle and you’re inclined to agree, but then you remember why you’re here in the first place and shake your head.

'As beautiful as this view is, I came here to party', you say.

He gallantly offers you his arm, grinning broadly. 'Very well, m'lady. Let's party.'

'Hurry up, purge the drives', the imperial scientist commands the colleague next to him.

Both are hurriedly pressing all kinds of buttons on the control panel, but a few seconds later the blasterfire sounds too close for his liking and when he looks up, the intruders are rapidly approaching them and he quickly grabs his own weapon.

'Destroy it!', he yells to his buddy, who also takes out his blaster and desperately starts firing at the panel. Then he hears his colleague fall to the ground and he fires a few more shots in the direction of the strangers, but to no avail. A well-aimed shot hits his chest and he falls over the panel like a bag of salt.

An eerie silence falls over the room as Din and his companions slowly walk past the cabins embedded in the wall. The four of them have placed enough explosives to destroy the entire base with Karga's detonator, but their element of surprise is lost. Din has already given you the signal to start a fire in the villa.

Blue light illuminates their confused and horrified faces. The cabins seem to be filled with a certain cloudy liquid and Din can only just make out the faint contours of motionless figures floating in it. He doesn't know what’s in there, but it certainly isn’t human. A chill runs down his spine.

'I thought you said this was a forward operating base', he says.

'I thought it was', Karga mumbles.

Dune stares at one of the cabins, her face dark. 'No, this isn't a military operation.' She looks up to the others. 'This is a lab. We need to get into the system and figure out what's going on.'

Mythrol starts to protest, but Karga interrupts him. 'Do it!'

Din looks from the cabins to the half-destroyed panel. The scientists had been very intent on destroying their data. What kind of research could possibly be so important?

'I don't like this', he announces to no one in particular.

'Pardon me.’ Mythrol gently pushes the scientist's body, which still hangs over the panel, to the side until it slides to the ground with a thud. Then he starts pushing buttons, hoping to get at least something out of the burnt device. For a moment it looks like the scientist succeeded in wrecking it, but then a small hologram pops up and the figure of a man with glasses starts talking. Din immediately recognizes the doctor to whom he initially delivered the child.

‘-replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure’, the doctor says. ‘There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we'll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him. If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon. '

The message ends and an ominous feeling creeps over the Mandalorian. He looks from Dune to Karga.

'This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead,' he says, partly to reassure himself, but panic is already stirring in his chest.

Mythrol hardly dares to look at him. 'No. This recording is three days old.'

'If Gideon's alive, then...'

He doesn't get to finish his sentence.

'Over there!', a stormtrooper shouts from the hallway.

Blasterfire erupts from both sides and the man falls to the ground, but he didn’t come alone.

'We have them!', shouts another to his colleagues.

'I need to get to the kid', Din says hastily.

'Jet back, you're faster that way', Karga shouts over the sound of the shots. 'We'll head to the speeder and meet you in town!'

The Mandalorian nods and runs down a nearby hallway. Now he just needs to find the way out.

You're in the middle of your second dance with Hal when you get Din's signal. Because of the music, you can only understand half of it, but that’s all you need. Time to set this place ablaze.

On the way here you had worried about making any fire at all, since you didn’t have a lighter on you, but upon entering the mansion, the solution had immediately presented itself: candles had been placed on the balustrade of the second floor, inbetween each column, providing nice mood lighting. They certainly create atmosphere, but also an opportunity: with so many candles in the building, no one would be too surprised about a fire.

'All that twisting makes me sick', you shout in Hal's ear. 'I'm going to get some fresh air again. Be right back.'

'Wait, I'm coming with you', he says.

'I'd really prefer to go alone. Recharge my social battery, you know', you say quickly, planting a kiss on his cheek, hoping that will prevent any further protests. He opens his mouth and closes it again, flustered by the gesture, and you turn to walk away. Immediately, you bump into a person dressed in blue and you start to apologize, but then you see who it is.

'May I steal your friend here from you for a second?', Mayweather asks his son with a smile.

Before Hal can answer, however, the man has already put his arm through yours and is somewhat forcefully leading you away from the loud music.

'I almost didn't recognize you, lady Signas', he says without looking at you, pulling you to the side of the courtyard, towards the shadow of the overhanging balustrade. His body language still radiates the perfect, calm host, but the undertone in his voice is not lost on you and your heart is pounding so loudly that you have to make an effort to understand him. You pray to Dedis that he doesn't feel your trembling.

‘Then again, it has been years since I last saw you and you've certainly grown up a lot. But I'd recognize Duuganise wedding attire anywhere. I was at your father's wedding, remember?'

'No', you mutter as you reach the shadows, unable to stop your voice from shaking.

'Ah, I suppose you were very young at the time', Mayweather continues calmly, as if the two of you are just talking about the weather. 'His wife looked beautiful that day, almost as beautiful as you. What's her name again?'

He still holds your arm in a tight grip, even though you’re standing still now. To the other guests, it must seem as if the host is just having a friendly conversation with his guest.

You swallow and answer: 'Avlin.'

'Avlin, right', he nods. 'Did she do this?' He points to the paint on your arms and the lump growing in your throat prevents you from doing anything more than shake your head. 'No? Must have been your aunt, then. Always liked her. She's a very strong woman. Isn't it her son you married?'

All your instincts scream the same: he knows. Yet you cling to the last glimmer of hope for his ignorance and nod in agreement.

'That's right', you force yourself to add.

Then a guard appears from the corridor near you. He looks around and when he spots Mayweather, he comes up to him and whispers something in his ear. You're too busy panicking to hear him, but deep down you already know what news the guard is bringing. You’d heard shots when Din gave you the signal.

'Is that so?', Mayweather says with an unmistakably icy tone in his voice.

He looks down on you and you avoid his gaze. The grip on your arm tightens even more.

'I was wondering where you left that Mandalorian friend of yours.'

Your heart drops and you don’t fight him when he harshly drags you to the hallway. You’re led through a couple of wooden doors until you arrive in a mostly empty room where the festivities and the music can no longer be heard. The next moment you’re thrown against the wall and you fall to the stone floor with a pained cry.

'So what was your plan here, huh?', Mayweather begins, resting his hands on his knees and looking down at you as if you’re a naughty child. Every trace of kindness has now completely disappeared from his demeanor. 'They infiltrate the base while you stay up here and do… what, exactly?'

You push yourself into a sitting position and stubbornly stare at him, not planning to tell him anything about your intentions. For the time being, he doesn't seem to be aware of your affinity for knives or the ones still strapped to your legs. Whether he never knew or forgot, you can’t be sure, but once again you have to be smart about when to reveal your hidden weapons.

'One of my men did report a missing key, sir', suggests the brown-haired guard standing in the doorway. Mayweather raises an eyebrow and looks from him to you.

'I assume you're responsible for that, then', he concludes. ‘Certainly explains how they got in without the alarm going off. I should have known you were up to no good when I first noticed you, considering what you did back home. I should have put you on a ship and sent you back to Duugan the first chance I got. Guess I could still do that. But first I wanna know this: what are your friends planning on achieving down there, little girl?'

You don't answer and before you can blink, he slaps you across the face hard enough to make stars dance before your eyes. You can't hold back a scream as you lose your balance for a second. Your cheek burns painfully and anger rises in you.

Oh, this asshole is gonna pay.

You’re just about to grab a knife when Mayweather's next words stop you.

'What do we have here?'

He looks at something on the floor next to you and when you follow his gaze, your heart skips a beat.

Your earphone fell out of your ear.

In the silence that falls, a voice can be heard coming out of it, but you can only make out your name.

'Damn, my son sure is a bad judge of character', he sighs.

Before you can stop him, he plants his boot on top of the device and with a pathetic cracking sound your connection with the Mandalorian is severed.

Your scream echoes in Din’s head long after the connection is lost. He rushes through the long metal corridors, but every now and then he gets held up by alarmed stormtroopers. His instincts are screaming for him to fly to the child as quickly as possible. The news of Moff Gideon's survival scares him more than he'd like to admit and he can't wait to get to the Crest and leave this planet. But a little voice tugs on his conscience as he finally sees sunlight in the distance. The plan was that you would be picked up by Mythrol's speeder, but as always, the plan has long fallen apart. The sound of his heavy boots resounds through the hallway as he runs towards the light. He's not gonna leave you behind.

Panting, you run down the hall, as fast as your legs can carry you. Suddenly the road in front of you is blocked and you shoot into a side corridor, which turns out to lead back to the party. However, screams behind you tell you that the guards won't be afraid to just chase you there too. They underestimated you once and it cost them dearly, but they won't do that again.

You keep running under the balustrade while the rest of the guests let out cries of excitement and confusion, and you shoot up the stairs for the third time today. Your bun has come undone and the remnants flutter in the wind when you turn right twice without really knowing why. Once in the narrow hallway you realize what a stupid decision that was, but you can't go back. Wide-eyed, you slam against the balcony balustrade, wildly looking for a way out, but there isn't one. You're trapped.

Running footsteps echo behind you and you turn, half expecting to get shot right away, but much to your surprise it’s Hal who’s the first to reach the balcony, followed closely by the guards. The poor boy struggles to stop the enraged men, his face all confused.

'Wait, wait!', he shouts as you climb the balustrade in a desperate escape attempt. 'What are you doing?! Get down, I'm sure there's been some kind of misunderstanding... '

The Zabrak guard from earlier steps past him, his blaster pointed at you.

'Get back here', he barks.

'Stay there!', you shout, now standing upright, with your face towards them and holding on to the pillar next to you, still not really knowing what the hell you’re doing. You nervously glance down at the pass.

'Please, we can work this out', Hal begs.

The guards are staying where they are for now, no doubt because they want to bring you in alive and make you pay for the death of their commander and the injuring of their boss. You shoot the boy an apologetic look, but your cockyness has returned.

'You know, sometimes it is a good idea to look up a lady's dress', you tell the guards dryly.

And with a smug smile on your face, you let go of the column, salute them and let yourself fall off the balcony.

The sheer drop twists your insides to the point where you can't even scream and as the strong wind blows through your dress while gravity pulls you towards a painful death on the rocky floor meters below you, you immediately regret your decision; out of the corner of your eye, you see the black-and-metal-y blur that is the Mandalorian, who you saw flying in your general direction when you looked down.

And then you plummet right past him.

You finally manage to make a yelping sound as you start frantically flapping your limbs around in a desperate attempt to spontaneously grow wings and fly away from the rocks that are getting bigger and bigger by the second. Your now completely undone hairdo half clouds your vision when the realization hits you: in a few seconds, you're gonna hit the floor. If you're lucky, you'll be dead on impact. If Yris is in a particularly bad mood today, you'll survive but break every bone in your body. A strange calmness suddenly drowns out all your panic and time seems to slow down as you close your eyes and let your now useless body travel the last meters towards the ground.

When a strong force knocks the wind out of your lungs, you prepare yourself for the pain, but it wasn't rocks that hit you. It was beskar and muscles.

You open your eyes and see how Din awkwardly moves one of his arms from your waist to your knees to lift up your legs and thereby switch to a position he can actually hold long enough. You fly up into the sky again and as you rise above the hills, poorly aimed blaster shots fly right past you. Din seems to be too busy keeping both of you in the air to worry about it, rightfully relying on his beskar.

'Are you insane?!', he growls angrily.

With one arm you clamp to him and with the other you grab his blaster from the holster.

'Possibly', you shout back, looking past him and firing a few shots at the balcony, making sure not to aim at Hal. The guards duck and cease fire, and soon you’re too far away to get hit. You put the weapon back and you silently let yourself get flown back to the city. It’s all you can do to not ponder on the fact that the Mandalorian is literally carrying you in his arms like some kind of damsel in distress. Admittedly, you were very much in distress when you were falling from the balcony. You can feel his body heat and the strong muscles of his arms around your waist and legs and for some reason you feel like you’re in the safest place in the universe. Finally able to catch your breath, you let your head rest against his breastplate.

When you’ve almost reached the Razor Crest, the relative silence is rudely disrupted by a series of blasts, and you look over his shoulder at the fireballs rising up from the pass and the mansion. To your relief, you see that the guests are already outside, but that relief disappears as soon as you see thin shapes flying through the sky. Not birds, but Tie Fighters. You recognize them from a book and immediately realize that Karga, Dune and Mythrol are in trouble.

'They're being chased!', you shout. 'Tie Fighters are shooting at them!'

Din lands right next to his ship and hastily puts you down on the ground. He whirls around and sees that you’re right. He goes to move, but you’re one step ahead of him.

'Start the engines', you order. 'I'll get the kid.'

Before he can protest, you run into town.

A wild chase and a lot of shooting later, the Crest is flying safely over the city gate again, where Karga and the others are standing by the speeder and looking up at the ship. Din is just using his cape to wipe away the strange, mint-blue stuff the child spit out after the last looping, when Karga's voice sounds over the comm.

'That was some pretty impressive flying, Mando. Aren't you gonna let me buy you a drink?'

'Sorry', Din replies. 'We gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.'

'Well, good luck flying, my friend.'

Karga’s voice fades away and for a moment, a blessed silence falls over the cockpit. When the Crest leaves the atmosphere and Din has entered the coordinates for Qalla-knows-where, he turns to you. By now, the green color has disappeared from your face, but you’re pretty sure that you’d looked a lot like the child just now.

'I don't want to drag you into the whole Gideon business', he says. 'I can drop you off on any planet you like.'

After today's events, you're too tired to ask what that whole Gideon business is.

'Seems like we keep dragging each other into our businesses.' You laugh wearily. 'I don't mind. It's not like I have anywhere to go. So I wouldn't be against sticking around for a bit. You know, if you'll have me.'

You immediately regret your words, realizing that he was probably giving you a subtle hint, and you want to back out, but he answers before you can.

'Fine.'

He turns back to the controls and that's that. You blink slowly. That was easy. You decide to think about it later and you make a quarter turn in your chair and pull your knees against you, planning on getting some well-deserved shuteye. It’s not exactly comfortable, but you’re not complaining. Sleep is all that matters right now.

'You can take the bed', Din suddenly says, without looking up. 'It's next to the bathroom.'

You force yourself to protest. 'But that's yours! You should get some sleep as well.'

'I have some things I need to take care of.' When you still don't move, he adds: 'You need it more than I do. Go.'

You lack the energy to protest any further and you get up from your chair. At the sliding doors, you look back at him for a second. You’re no idiot, you’re fully aware that he just lied to you. The question is: why? An ancient instinct deep within you calls the answer, but you refuse to give in to it.

For now, anyway.

You leave the cockpit and climb down the stairs. That bed does sound great right now.

Tag list: @buckysalefty @dark-academics-and-florals

#mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #star wars #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

75 Criminal Minds Prompts

Some of these can easily go very, very dirty, and yes I’m talking about Morgan and Garcia conversations and honestly would it be a list without them?

1 “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you’ve really stopped to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do. ― Hotch

2 “Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone.”― David Rossi

3 “Destroying a book is like…destroying a whole world.” — Diana Reid

4 “Trust me, kiddo. I’ve been here before.” ― David Rossi

5 “I’ve always heard every ending is also a beginning. We just don’t know it at the time. I’d like to believe that’s true.” — Emily Prentiss

6 “He is the perfect man. He doesn’t hog the covers, and he poops in a box.” — Emily Prentiss

7 “Went on a diet last night. Lost 185 pounds.” — Dr. Tara Lewis

8 “Marital bliss followed by marital diss! Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” — Penelope Garcia

9 “I don’t take kindly to being blown up. In fact, it kind of pisses me off.” — Derek Morgan

10 “You know, I've learned that, in the short time I've had the privilege of being a dad... it heals wounds, just being there for your kid.” — David Rossi

11 “What makes you feel confident?” “Statistics.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

12 “NAME , believe me when I say this, I've never known a normal day in my entire life.” — Dr Spencer Reid

13 “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” — Dr Spencer Reid

14 “No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication.” “What are you implying, NAME?” “That everyone is medicated.” — Dr Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia

15 “He/She doesn't give a damn about black or white. The only color that son of a bitch cares about is green.” — Dr Spencer Reid

16 “I don't know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think that I do.” “I never said that. When have I ever said that?” “Every day since I met you!” — Dr Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan

17 “I never have any normal fans.” — Dr Spencer Reid

18 “Hey, Baby Girl, whatever you’re doing, drop it.” — Derek Morgan

19 “Talk to me, Baby Girl.” — Derek Morgan

20 “There you go, Baby Girl, that’s sweet.” — Derek Morgan

21 “Give it to me, doll face.” — Derek Morgan

22 “Hey, doll face. Ready to work some magic for me?” — Derek Morgan

23 “Hey, silly girl. I love you, you know that, right?” — Derek Morgan

24 “Hey girl, you’re on speaker. Behave.” “Or what, you’ll spank me?” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

25 “It was once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to.” — Derek Morgan

26 “Hey baby girl, I need you to work that magic of yours.” “Rub my lamp, release the Genie.” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

27 “You really are afraid of the dark.” “I'm working on that.” “You should work a little harder.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

28 “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, pump your brakes. What is this about?” — Derek Morgan

29 “Oh, and if you hate sad stories as much as I do, you should leave the room right now, 'cause this is super sad!” — Penelope Garcia

30 “Enchantress of all things possible, use your imagination.” — Penelope Garcia

31 “My least three favorite words strung together: I don't know.” — Penelope Garcia

32 “Hello, my pretties. I have seen the wizard and he granted my wish.” — Penelope Garcia

33 “She knew where to toe the line between right and raunchy.” — Penelope Garcia

34 “OK, let me get you on a secret: Guys, we don’t do well on subtle clues, OK? You got to be direct, straight up. Just tell him exactly what you want!” — Derek Morgan

35 “It’s who you are, Baby Girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change, and I won’t let it.” — Derek Morgan

36 “NAME, people need to know that they're important and sometimes you forget that.” — Hotch

37 “Don't you have something better to do?” “Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell no.” — Hotch and Derek Morgan

38 “I think, deep down, we're all capable of unspeakable things. Where it starts or what you call it, I don't know.” — Hotch

39 “NAME, this is the job, and I need to know that you can be objective.” “And I need to know that I can be human.” — Hotch and Emily Prentiss

40 “Scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.” — Rossi

41 “You don't need to do anything you don't want to. Understand?” — Rossi

42 “Just be careful. That ego of yours is going to get you in trouble." — Rossi

43 “Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it, but I can't go back and change it." — Rossi

44 “It could be that, after all of these years, I rewrote history." — Rossi

45 “Time will pass and slowly you will find how much it hurts. And, maybe, you'll find something else to fill that empty space." — Rossi

46 “Where you headed?” “Nowhere in particular.” “How will you know when you get there?” — Rose and Gideon

47 “Only a man would waste $50 trying to win back that $3 stuffed animal.” — JJ

48 “This is my favorite part. This is where you hang yourself with your own tongue. So, please keep talking.” — JJ

49 “My father/mother believes that children shouldn't be shielded from the realities of the world. I do! Isn't that why we read them fairy tales in the first place?” — JJ

50 “Oh god, please tell me you don't have a crush on a fictional character.” — JJ

51 “You are the best ever.” “Aw, and you're the most perceptive.” — JJ and Garcia

52 “I once dated a guy/girl who washed his/her car more than he/she washed his/her hair.” — JJ

53 “Don't tell me what I want and don't want.” — JJ

54 “You do what it takes to protect your family.” — JJ

55 “Look, I don't speak smartass.” — Michael Russo

56 “How's it having NAME around?” “You can have him/her back whenever you would like.” Hotch and Garcia

57 “So, NAME, when are you and NAME walking down the aisle?” “Hey, whoa, whoa. Baby steps. Baby steps.” “When NAME says "I do", it'll be a national day of mourning for single men/women everywhere.” — Rossi, Morgan and Reid

58 “Ugh! This heat is brutal!” “You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity.” “At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

59 “Need a minute?” “So, so badly.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

60 “Hey. I came as soon as I could. What's wrong?” — Matt Simmons

61 “We ask questions, and we come home.” “No creepy weirdness?” “No weirdness.” “Good, 'cause I'm about full up in the creepy weirdness department for one night.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

62 “Ooh, what about this one? Sunny, two-bedroom. It's close to work. And it's in your price range.” “NAME, you're moving? You don't like change.” “That's true. Change is my kryptonite. But the apartment is no longer a sanctuary. I have a new neighbor. Window's right here. He enjoys doing naked kung fu. Some things you cannot unsee.” — JJ, Simmons and Garcia

63 “Thank you.” “For what?” “For being you.” “Aw, thanks. I don't know how to be anyone else.” — Emily Prentiss and Dr Spencer Reid

64 “When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen.” — Emily Prentiss

65 “I just feel I can't understand others' emotions if I don't deal with my own, you know?” “The best way out is always through.” “Too bad it's not always the easiest one.” “You're not kidding.” — Dr Tara Lewis and Rossi

66 “It helps if they think you're crazy. They don't argue.” — Diana Reid

67 “I don’t hate you ... I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.” — Dr Spencer Reid

68 “There are many paths to the same place. Trust me.” “Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie.” — Hotch

69 “I’m always right. Also, you’re secretly in love with me.” — Penelope Garcia

70 “I just gave the bartender my number in Roman numerals. If he/she figures it out, he’s/she’s worth a shot.” — Dr Spencer Reid

71 “Shh, the adults are talking. When it’s your turn to speak, I’ll give you permission. Okay?” — JJ

72 “Hey, mama, tell me something I don’t know.” — Derek Morgan

73 “Talk dirty to me.” — Penelope Garcia

75 “Hey, don’t make me spank you when I get back.” “Don’t listen time him/her, NAME, he’s/she’s all talk.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

#criminal minds prompts #criminal minds quotes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #nswfish

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themetaphorgirl · 4 years

Text

did I even make a sound? it’s like I never made a sound (part 1)

Spencer hesitated. If he could hesitate long enough, maybe Morgan would give up, pat him on the shoulder, give him the easy out of saying you can always talk to me if you need to, because he didn't know how to need someone else, he didn't know how to voluntarily share the burden of his secrets, he didn't know how to tell someone else that he was hurting and he was alone and he was scared.

But Morgan didn't leave. He sat by him quietly, patiently, and Spencer fiddled with the cards. No one had ever taught him how to ask for help, and he didn't know how to say it.

"It's the crime scene photos," he said instead.

"Crime scene photos?"

Morgan was kind, Morgan was gentle, Morgan was patient, but Morgan didn't understand. "The dead girls in the leaves," he said, his throat dry.

Wet leaves rotting in a Georgia graveyard, the smell sickly sweet and cloying, the red clay clinging to his fingers, the blood and sweat dripping down his body as his hands swelled and burst with blisters while he dug his own grave.

Morgan shook his head, his brow drawing in mild confusion. "Reid, we've seen worse," he said.

"I know," he whispered. "I know we've seen worse, but... for the first time, I know." He looked up, "I look at them, and…"

His heart beating too fast in his chest, his racing blood too hot and too loud in his ears, his last goodbyes swallowed down his throat with his tears because he'd never be able to say them out loud-

"I look at them and I... I know what they were thinking. And I know what they were feeling, like, right before."

Morgan nodded as if he understood. "That's called empathy," he said gently. "And it's a good thing."

It wasn't empathy. It wasn't. Empathy was Hotch sitting down with a missing child's father. Empathy was JJ speaking in her kind brave voice on behalf of a victim. It was Emily never breaking during an interrogation because her work would bring justice to a grieving family. It was Garcia watching kitten videos after a bad case, Gideon arranging framed photos in his office, Elle stepping away because her heart couldn't take it anymore.

Empathy was Morgan sitting him down on the jet and inviting him to speak.

Except he didn't want an invitation to speak, it was past that point, he was drowning and he wanted someone to take him by the wrists and pull him out of the ice cold water and let him heave and suffer and cry until he could breathe again, feel again.

He couldn't feel empathy. He couldn't feel it when he didn't deserve any empathy.

The click of the empty chamber, over and over and over again, until the gun fired, muzzle bright in the midnight, but the gun wasn't pointed at him, it was pointed at the man who tried to kill him, but it wasn't the man who tried to kill him, it was a boy not too much older than him, a boy who asked if he might see his mother again, and he didn't answer him in time.

He pushed his hair back from his hot forehead, dug his fingertips against his bone-dry eyes. "It's not," he said desperately. "It's got me all messed up. I don't know how to focus. I can't do my job as well...so what do I do?"

"You use it," Morgan said, and Spencer's heart sank. He didn't understand. "Let it make you a better profiler, a better person."

Spencer smiled, but there was no joy in it. He didn't think he could feel joy again. "A better person," he echoed.

Morgan smiled at him, warm and encouraging, and Spencer turned back to the window.

He stayed quiet the rest of the flight, his hot forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window, his arms tight around his body in a protective imitation of a hug, and he didn't speak.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer’s drug addiction arc #criminal minds fanfiction #caitlin writes things

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pennemac · 4 years

Text

walk through fire for you (just let me adore you)

Chapter 1 ▪︎Even At 3am

Series Summary- This is my first attempt at writing with criminal minds characters! The show has recently become one of my favorite things to write and ramble about. This is a series of works that are written around an autistic Spencer Reid, and his journey's of finding comfort and joy within his team.

Chapter Summary- Spencer finally reaches out when he's struggling with a bout of sensory overload. It takes a whole lot of courage on his part and a good dose of platonic love from his boss to calm him down. (ft. Spencer's stuffed axolotl)

Warnings/Topics- Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Talk of sensory issues, Crying, The beginnings of a panic attack, Platonic cuddling, A good dose of Hotch being a dad through and through :)

I post these on ao3 first! my ao3 is here

Word Count- 1.9k

There's a light pattering of the beginning of a storm outside of the hotel room window, and Spencer is so tired. He has been, in fact, for the last two days, 16 hours, and 43 minutes.

If Spencer was any semblance of normal, he thinks, he would probably be soothed by the little sounds of rain, but he's not. In fact, it's angering him. It's a constant white noise sound, like television static, but worse, because it can't just be turned off by the click of a button. He isn't even entirely sure why it's making him as mad as it is.

The sound itself is even making him acutely aware of the way unfamiliar sheets feel against his legs, and the way his hair won't stay out of his face. It's alot, honestly. With every second that passes, the rain makes him more and more upset. None of his usual tactics of calming down have worked so far, either.

He hasn't been able to read, because his brain felt like it was being drowned out by the sounds of rain against various outdoor surfaces. Music, though he'd never been a huge fan of anything other than soft piano, had also felt as though it was simply accompanying the rain, assisting it in it's attempt to make him breakdown.

It starts out like this, usually. The discomfort, leading into being easily aggravated, but from then it's everything setting him off. Rain, the constant chatter of a room filled with busy police officers, the ticking of a clock, the texture of his pants, or sheets, or any unfamiliarity.

He's been trying to sleep for days, but he hasn't been able to. To combat this, he'd been consuming copious amounts of coffee. This had made him more twitchy, antsy, than he had been before. His hands now, even, shake as he throws the blankets and sheets off of his legs.

The frustration reaches it's peak though, when he has to struggle to pull his socks off of his feet, and tears fall from his eyes as he leans back onto the bed. As he tries his best to just breathe, he remembers how Hotch had separated him from the rest of their team, pulling him aside and out of the crowded room, as if he'd had an innate sense that he hadn't been doing well.

"Do you need to leave, Reid? I won't make you stay here if it's not going to be beneficial for others or for yourself."

He hadn't managed to give a complete answer, just nodding, hands curling into his pant legs. "Go with Morgan to the mortuary. I was going to send him alone but the quiet of a car will do you good."

His boss had moved to lay a hand onto his shoulder, deciding not to when Spencer had visibly flinched. "I am completely serious when I say that you have to stop over exerting yourself. It does nobody any good when you render yourself useless to others."

Spencer had frowned, not exactly happy with being reprimanded, but he knew that Aaron was certainly correct.

"Beyond that, though, I understand. I made an agreement when I hired you into this team that I'd be here when you need me. You have to reach out to someone when it's necessary."

So now, as he sits in the dark of his room, he does his best to remind himself that it's okay to reach out when he needs someone. His hands are shaky as he finds his bosses contact and presses call before he can over think it.

It's answered fairly quickly. "Reid? What's going on?"

"I'm- it's not anything serious I'm just… I think I'm gonna have a panic attack and I haven't slept for nearly three days, I don't know how to stop it."

He knows how weak his voice sounds, and he hates it. His hands clench and unclench in his bedsheets. Tears continue to slip down his face and his shoulders and neck feel tense.

He hears a the rustling of sheets on the other side of the call before he gets a response. "Can you come up here? You know my room number, yes?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Okay, come up to my room, then. You're gonna be okay."

He nods, only realizing afterwards that Hotch couldn't actually see it. He tosses his own phone into the open duffle bag by the foot of his bed. The room he's in is uncomfortably dark, and he hesitates for a moment before he moves to reach into the black bag, pulling out a small-ish stuffed axolotl.

It's soft, and the eyes are embroidered, rather than buttons or beads, so they feel nice for his hands to run over. The texture is soft but smooth, and he's grateful that it's that rather than shaggy or rough.

When he's made it up onto the third floor, rather than the second, where his room was, his embarrassment levels had risen and by the time he'd made it up to the door, he heavily considered turning back.

Spencer's grateful when he only has to knock once for the door to open.

Hotch stands in the doorway, and this is probably the only time that Spencer would ever see him in just sweatpants and a soft shirt.

He moves out of the way once he realizes who it is, letting him walk into the room.

His boss moves in front of him, to sit on the large bed in the middle of the dimly lit space.

"What animal is that?" He points vaguely at the pink stuffed animal clutched in shaky hands.

Spencer stands awkwardly across from the bed, his hands fiddling gently with the eyes and the tail of the toy. "It's, uhm… an axolotl. Penelope got it for me cause she knows textures I like and don't like."

Hotch gently sits back to make room for him. He pats the empty space, hoping that Spencer will take the invitation to sit. He does, watching his own hands as if avoiding looking up at his coworker.

"Do you wanna talk about what's been happening? It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but it can be a good distraction."

He nods slowly, tucking his legs in to sit cross legged. "I- the rain. It's like… t.v. static. I haven't been able to sleep because the sheets are so unfamiliar…"

One hand moves up to hardly brush a tear from his cheek. God, he hates this. Vulnerability doesn't come easy to him, it never has. He knows how tight his breathing is, and that realistically he should start breathing deeper to ensure that he doesn't become light headed but- it's a lot easier to say than to do.

"Can I touch your hands, Spencer?"

The man in question gives an affirmative nod and watches as hands slightly larger than his own come into his line of vision, wrapping around one hand that isn't wrapped around the body of a stuffed animal.

"I know it's tough, but can you breath for me? Just a few deep breaths?"

Fingers flex between Aaron's own, squeezing in what he's fairly certain is an effort to ground himself.

Tears drop down steadily still, and one lands softly on the back of Hotch's hand.

A thumb circles slowly in the dip of where Spencer's hand meets his wrist. "I do hate to seem any kind of strict right now, but… Spencer, I know how hard it is to tell us when you start struggling. What I need you to know though, is that when Gideon agreed to have you on this team, and when I made the decision to keep you here, we knew exactly what we were doing."

A small sob comes from Spencer, and it deepens Aaron's own frown.

"You are an incredible asset to our team. You are the driving force to solving most cases we come across. There's nothing you could do, or show, or say, to us that would make us value or love you any less. If that means this, or telling us you need a break, or letting through more tendencies or quirks when we're working- all of that is good. You do so good, I jus-"

He's cut off abruptly when his hands are shaken away and Spencer all but tackles him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck and face pressing into his shoulder.

"And here I thought you were always so worried about germs."

Spencer sobs lightly, tears dampening the material under his face. His legs rest on the outside of Aaron's thighs, his weight settled on his legs. The man below him tentatively brings hands around his back to envelope him in a hug, hands rubbing down to ease the tension where he can.

"It's- it's so much."

And this, at least, Aaron can understand. His breathing doesn't even out more than it had, and Aaron would be much more worried if he didn't know that at least in some sense, this would tire him out. So, instead of urging him to calm down as he'd mistakenly done before, when he was less aware of Spencer's diagnosis, he takes a different route.

"Spencer, name 3 things you can feel."

Light sniffles come and shaky breaths still echo in his right ear, but he moves to where his mouth won't be muffled.

"That method of- of calming people down is something they use on kids-"

"Three things, Reid."

He huffs a little bit, but obeys. "Your hands." He shifts where he sits. "The- uhm, the bedsheets under my knees."

One hand goes up to his face, pulling strands of hair back to tuck it behind his ear. "My face is really warm."

Even though Spencer was right, the method of describing different sensory inputs was something people use on children, it was working well enough for him that Aaron wasn't going to stop using it.

"Three things you can see?"

He lifts his head from the shoulder it had been resting on, eyes moving around the room. He looks down slightly. "My hands are shaking." A glance to the left, afterwards, "My stuffed animal is to your left."

"And your lamp is on, but it's… dim."

His voice is soft, and it makes him seem small. He feels small too, body trembling under Aaron's hands.

"Can you smell anything?"

Spencer moves his head in a gesture of affirmation. "Your cologne." He pauses to pull in a deep breath. "Cleaning products, several."

He's breathing is beginning to fade into a normal pace, and there's less shake to his voice.

"Taste?"

"Mint… my uh, my toothpaste. Coffee."

Strong hands move up to his shoulders and neck, massaging lightly into the skin there.

"Hm. What about sounds?"

There's a silence in the room now. Spencer sits up slightly with realization. "The rain. It's not raining anymore."

"Mhm. Maybe the universe listened to you, for once."

He nods softly.

They sit like this for a moment, Spencer relaxing into the pressure of Aaron's hands, his tears slowly to a stop.

"Can I… Stay in here? I don't think I'll be able to sleep alone."

Hotch gives a single nod, and it would have seemed curt, but his face is soft. "Of course."

Spencer moves slowly off of him, fumbling for the pink toy before he lays down completely.

Hotch moves to do the same, but notes briefly the distance that had been put between them. "You can come back over here, y'know."

A tense breath was released and it brings a small smile onto the older mans face as he feels Spencer wiggle back up to his side, one arm laying over his stomach and a head resting against his chest. He takes the opportunity to wrap arm back around slender shoulders, only after lightly brushing stay strands of hair behind Spencer's ear.

"Goodnight, kid."

"Night Hotch."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #autistic spencer reid #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #but platonic #platonic cuddling #hurt/comfort #i love these men

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forkanna · 7 years

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NOTICE: Scott Pilgrim and related characters are ©Bryan Lee O'Malley. Story/plot content is © me!

Based mostly off the graphic novels but some stuff from the movie and game. There are other Kim/Knives fics but I haven't read them; I wanted to come at this completely based on the source material. Any similarities to those fics is purely coincidental.

Rated M for adult topics (including one brief not-quite-explicit flashback with a 17-year-old), and some sexual content in later chapters. You know, the L word. No, not "lesbian" — the OTHER L word: lesbians.

"... It's something else" - flyafar

I know this one kind of comes from nowhere, but I've actually been wanting to do something in the Pilgrimverse for a long time. Ever since I first saw the movie in theaters. Then a couple of weeks back, I was playing through the game again out of boredom (trying to get some elusive achievements) and I just felt this strong impulse to give Kim and Knives the ending they deserved.

If you haven't read the comics but HAVE seen the movie, I wouldn't be surprised if you view this as a crackship. It still kind of is in the comics to be honest! But don't worry, you don't have to read them to enjoy this fic; I'll cover what happened in later chapters. Plus a lot of little surprises that make up my take on them.

Hope you like this one! It's about medium-length for me, definitely no oneshot but in total it's not even as long as "Bind Us" is so far. And it's only getting started!

Jessex

[AO3 LINK]

CHAPTER ONE

And so, as our band of ragtag heroes exited from the Chaos Theater, Scott Pilgrim was reunited with his great love - well, other than himself. He and Ramona Flowers, the random American rollerblading groupie, went prancing off into Subspace together. Happily fucking ever after.

Both "fucking happily" and "happily fucking", to be honest.

What did I get? The same thing as usual. Nothing. Bitterness and emptiness. Well, I guess that's not completely accurate: Scott said he was sorry. Too little, too late, but hey… at least he tried. A for Effort. He gets Ramona, Stephen gets my old roommate, Wallace gets just about every piece of hot gay ass in Toronto besides Joseph and Stephen. Knives and Young Neil get each other, sort of, kind of. I guess. Who cares? And I'm left with a big bag of nothing.

I'm not Scott, obviously. I'm Kim. I play drums. That's all the introduction you get.

Fine, I'll be nice. You came here for this story, so I'll tell you the rest of the history first. Kim Pine. Red hair and freckles, pointless existence. Born and raised in Ontario, though I've skipped from town to town. Scorpio. My turn-ons are death and destruction, and long walks on the beach.

If you don't know any of the history, then you're probably better off. It's a long, sad story full of sighs and facepalms. But some of you probably have that morbid curiosity you can't shake, so unless you already know this and can skip it, or just care even less than me, here we go: I used to play drums for Sex Bob-omb with Scott and Stephen. Also of importance is the fact that Scott left a string of broken hearts in his wake a kilometer and a half long, with mine thrown in there somewhere. Just because he and I patched it up enough to be civil didn't mean we were "all good", but I sure as fuck wasn't going to be the one to explain it to the manchild. Anyway, we all thought for sure that Knives and Ramona were just going to be his latest casualties, or one of them would Yoko him into quitting the band. And we were right about that last part; the band fell apart, but at least not in a literal sense like The Clash At Demonhead, when their bassist was headbutted into coins and the drummer lost her cybernetic arm before disappearing completely. Not too long after the big showdown with Gideon at the Chaos, Ramona and Scott poofed into the ether and haven't been heard from since.

There, happy?

Anyway, this takes place a year after all that went down.

~ o ~

I don't even know why I was still in Toronto. After Sex Bob-omb exploded and Shatter Band shattered, there really wasn't much else for me to do. Boredom, maybe. At least Stephen was still around, making music with his boyfriend, but they didn't seem to need my drums anymore. Dynamite Headdy sounds better without me. Sure, there are days I still miss Sex Bob-omb. Not so much Shatter Band, which stank on ice. But the Bob-omb had potential, we just had Scott's lack of focus holding us back, and Stephen's too-much-focus sucking all the fun out of everything. So maybe, over the course of this paragraph, I talked myself out of missing either of those bands.

Anyway. Toronto, Delicious Cup.

Nobody wants to hear a drummer all by themselves. So I started doing this thing with Steph Nordegraf after she moved back to Toronto. Stephen introduced us; I'd met her through her brother Neil before though. It's… experimental and stupid, and I hate it. I'm on bongos while she sings and plays the zither. We sound like new age music being recorded by kindergartner, which is why we couldn't book any real coffee houses, like Second Cup or Aroma; only knockoffs like that one.

That's what we were doing in Delicious Cup the day my life stopped being pointless and colourless. So colourless that I didn't even fully realise it was summer until I saw Knives Chau walk in.

"What are you doing?" Steph hissed at me. Didn't even notice my bongos were on the floor until that point.

"What?"

"You went totally dead, like some kind of locust."

"Do locusts go dead? Is that their thing?"

"Just…" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We'll take five."

Frowning up at her, I slipped my bongos into the backpack I normally kept them in. "Chill, Nordegraf. You're going to develop kidney stones."

Okay, so that wasn't really her fault; I was being my usual salty self to cover for the fact that I fucked up our set. Not that anyone in the coffee house was paying the slightest attention to the two weirdos who thought they were musicians; they were all chatting, drinking, and reading through magazines. When one of our ten-minute epics ended, one polite older woman clapped. That was it. We might as well have been ghosts for all the notice we got coming and going.

As I ditched her with the equipment and went up to the counter, slipping in behind Knives in line, I tried not to think too much. Sure, we had a thing once… it's barely worth mentioning. But yeah, it was oddly nice to see a familiar face. Especially with Scott and Ramona off in the ether somewhere.

She looked good. At least, I thought so; she stopped doing that thing where she dyed part of her hair, which I always thought was just a way to compete for Pilgrim's attention, anyway. And a year of college really seemed to have given her something… not that I could tell what it was, but something more. Her adorable face was turned mostly away from me, so I couldn't tell much else. Just that she was wearing clothes a little more grown up than when I last saw her, and that she didn't seem as nervously-excited. That's a good thing: I hate excitable people.

"Green milktea?" she asked when she got up to the counter.

"What… is that?" Julie asked her. "This is a coffee house, not a tea house." Typical Julie. Yeah, I knew the barista, but we don't really talk. She's even more unpleasant than I am.

"Oh… but you have green tea and chai tea on the menu. Right there."

Julie didn't even bother to look over her shoulder. "I think I would know the menu better than you would."

"But I'm serious, it's right-"

"Do you have a problem with the way this business operates? Are you blind or something?"

"No, I'm not blind," Knives said, slowly sounding a little less sure of herself. "My eyes work fine."

"Then why can't you read my lips? No. Milk. Tea."

This was going nowhere. Even though this wasn't how I wanted to reinitiate contact with either of them again, I strode up to the counter and stood next to Knives.

"If you have milk, and you have tea, you can make her fucking milktea. Besides, you know her, so stop being such a rotting tampon."

"What?" Knives breathed, taking an instinctive step away — probably just from my tone.

"Excuse me, carrot top?" Julie snapped. "You don't tell me how to-"

"And you don't own this café, Powers, even if you do seem to work in all of them. Just make the drink. I'll cover whatever extra you want to charge." Digging into my pocket for my meager amount of money that I own, I produced a couple of toonies. "Make it. Now."

"This isn't even enough for a normal cappuccino, or whatever a 'milktea' is supposed to be."

"She can pay for the actual tea herself; I'm just paying for your added mental energy, which you seem to be rationing very carefully due to a tremendous shortage."

By that point, Julie's glasses were literally steaming. Either from her face heating up with rage, or the coffee machines behind her. Knives had been shrinking away from the whole confrontation, but then she blinked a few times, leaning back toward us.

"Kim?"

My cheeks probably would have turned red at the way she breathed my name. What a dumb reaction. But I made myself focus on what I was doing, stepping forward to add another fiver atop the coins on the counter. "And this is for my espresso. Hurry it the fuck up or I'll do that ask-to-see-a-manager thing we all hate." My work done, I turned and went back over to Steph.

It only took her a minute or so to see that I was back without any drinks. "What happened to my soy latte?"

"Sorry…" All at once, I realised I forgot about that. Or about waiting around for my own drink, either. But she noticed I was out of sorts.

"What happened?"

"To what, your face? I've been wondering that for years."

"No, at the counter." She was used to my attitude by now, and could tell when I was deflecting. A skill I loathe in my friends, because it bypasses my defenses. "You look all shook up."

"Thanks, Elvis." Clearly, she wasn't going to let this go. "Okay… I ran into somebody. From the old days."

Her lip curled slightly. "From the Pilgrim Era, or like even earlier?" My face must have said it all because she winced. "Yikes…"

"I don't care," I told her flatly. "This doesn't matter. Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up and go back to No-Account, punch the clock, and stare into space for six hours until Comeau gets in. Probably drink a bunch of Coke and feel myself contracting diabetes."

"Why don't you just drink Coke Zero?"

My scowl said enough. Still, for good measure, I snapped, "Never… mention Coke Zero… in front of me."

"Okay, Hagrid," she snorted as she finished packing up and we headed for the door. Again, she doesn't respect my grumpiness properly. "But I hope you know this isn't the end of thi-"

Before we could escape Delicious Cup, a pair of crossed blades were blocking our path. Behind their gleaming steel was a pair of dark eyes, blazing with intensity.

"I can't let you leave."

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #scott pilgrim vs. the world #scott pilgrim #kim pine #knives chau #forkanna writes #forkanna the writer

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melancholy-queen · 7 years

Conversation

REIGN SPOILERS AHEAD

i’m putting all of my thoughts about the series reign on this, i probably forgot a lot of shit, but thats okay. also I’m sorry if this is very long, i have lots of opinions. scroll past!

so im on season 3 episode 7 and here are my thoughts as of this moment:

- francis is everything but also he was so controlling of mary jfc

- nostradamus is really hot

- im sad for mary that francis is dead

- frary is endgame

- but i was totally down for bash and mary to get married

- conde was so hot. i miss him already

- i was not down for the whole cheating plot line with mary

- antoine needs to chill and stop being so vengeful

- kenna is a piece of shit, i mean stop self sabotaging yourself please for the love of god

- so apparently, kenna was masterbating on the staircase in the pilot? i thought she ran out of breath from walking up all those goddamn stairs (chill, this is a joke, but i still think it's funny that she couldn't wait to get to her room)

- henry was fucking gross from the minute he walked on screen

- did everyone forget about aylee?

- poor lola, she couldve been so much more

- on the topic of lola, where tf did john philippe go? like he hasn't been in the past few episodes

- bash is so great

- bash does no wrong, i love him

- i liked diane and i miss her

- leith is honestly the most tragic character in this whole show, i love him

- megan follows does such an amazing job, like she is such a good actress

- why tf couldn't greer marry leith? i guess im just not understanding

- they totally brushed off the whole incest thing between claude and bash, gross

- but also good for greer, she's a great madam

- i don't give any shits about lord narcissi

- i loveeee claude and leith, get married pls

- i really wanted mary and francis to have a child and i almost cried at the miscarriage

- charles is a dick, but also fuck me

- catherine de medici is the best thing to have graced this show, i mean fuck me up bitch ahhh

- poor mary! its so sad that she was raped. to me, the show handled the repercussions fairly well

- i liked the whole catherine going crazy plot line, i thought the writers did a good job with her emotions towards her children

- the end did not pay off though, like how did she get better?

- also, the crazy henry plot line was ass, but i liked it almost?

- i thought the francis killing henry was done very well, subtle, but not out of the blue. plus, you could go back and look at the clues in previous episodes to aid to the murder

and now these are my thoughts past season 3, episode 7 all the way to the end:

- yes i want some bdsm in this bitch fuck it up queen

- catherine and mary are so kinky hahahaahahha

- mary's pussy literally killed don carlos (jk)

- this is the best plot line on this show so far lmao

- i like it better when mary and catherine get along

- god i love princess claude

- i hate narcisse

- fuck narcisse

- even though claude's fucking stupid for writing that her mother poisoned her in her diary and not hiding the diary well, i still love her

- narcisse's secretary is hot in a lowkey kind of way

- also, his death scene was very unrealistic

- thank god lola is leaving, fuck narcisse

- i don't like elizabeth, but i guess im not supposed to

- why does claude have to fuck up leith like that? he's already traumatized by greer

- greer is honestly the secret mvp, what a good woman

- i am more invested in claude and leith's story then anything else in this entire show

- i feel so bad for dudley's wife, she didn't ask for this

- catherine is a sex queen and i stan her

- stubble leith is so hot

- adelaide kane is so fucking pretty goddamn

- honestly, fuck the prince of spain

- charles looks like mary and francis' child grown up tbh

- i have no investment in any of the england storyline

- why do none of the ladies in waiting get a normal marriage and life jeez louise

- CLAUDE DESERVES BETTER

- LEITH DESERVES BETTER

- FUCK THE DUKE WHO MARRIED CLAUDE

- CLAUDE IS A QUEEN WTF I LOVE HER SO MUCH I WANT TO MARRY HER OML

- narcisse can suck my dick

- im all for in charge charles

- i don't like gideon

- i have no investment in the elizabeth/dudley shep, but i still find it really sad

- god i hope that gideon doesn't stab mary in the back

- christophe is really creepy

- my inStiNctS weRe cOrRecT jEsuS ChrISt, christophe is insane

- gideon is also insane

- bash is perfect

- bash needs better sleuthing skills

- i fully support the lola and elizabeth friendship

- mary and gideon have no chemistry haha

- DEAR GOD I LOVE LEITH AND CLAUDE

- greer is so strong, i love her

- I’m so for greer and leith’s friendship

- jc not the bash love storyline again

- i totally forgot mary killed narcisse’s son

- wait at what point did mary meet her ladies??

- literally the only part in this show so far to make cry is when mary went back to defend catherine tbh

- idk why i feel sympathy for catherine

- if bash dies i will stop watching

- thank god

- elizabeth is honestly a better friend to lola than mary was

- charles is so dumb

- god why can’t he learn anything, obviously his friend was a traitor

- charles’ traitor friend is bobo nick jonas

- dark mary is my everything

- claude is her mother’s carbon copy

- the valois children have other siblings? where are they and why haven’t we heard of them?????

- munro is so hot

- bash is actually fucking insane

- why is charles so trustworthy?

- when did james become hot?

- mary is so great when she’s not needy and crying for a romance

- how does everyone just kill people so easily??? i can’t even get my blood drawn without wanting to throw up

- lola is HEARTLESS

- IM SO DOWN FOR A CLAUDE/LEITH WEDDING

- also troye sivan? i love it

- charles totally sucks

- wait what happened with the pagans in the blood woods?

- i cannot stand gideon and mary together

- i’m so sad for lola, she was such a good character

- dear god, this was the only death that i’m actually sad for (and this includes francis)

- i want more for john philippe

- NO I TAKE THAT BACK POOR LEITH

- knox is such a creep

- marys brother needs to stop

- i’m so down with seer bash you guys don’t even understand

- mary is wild omg i love this turn around

- when did james get so hot

- lola and francis’ child is so fucking cute omg

- charles’ mental breakdown is crazy

- ewwww gideon and mary are gross af

- I’m all for darnley

- poor claude honestly, but she is a saint

- if he hurts her, ill beat him up

- damn charles is a vampire

- leith deserved so much better

- i love him

- dude i don’t even give a shit about the other relationships in this show, leith and claude are the greatest

- poor leith, I’m so sad

- agatha’s death is so fucking depressing

- i love mary when she actually has a backbone

- yes motherfucker, murder darnley

- i have no sympathy for darnley’s true love dying, he’s so rude and deceiving

- i love the friendship between catherine and mary ahh

- i don’t know how i feel about greer and james

- where did lady kenna go?

- i like the juxtaposition between mary and francis’ wedding and mary and darnley’s wedding with the flowers and attendees and just overall feeling and how adelaide kane acted in it. you could tell that she truly loved francis but doesn’t love darnley and feels scared with him

- also the fact that mary doesn’t match with darnley’s outfits is an interesting choice

- the timeline on this show is very strange

- claude’s character development is beautiful

- the horny witch is my fav

- umm what she’s pregnant?

- nicole can suck my fucking ass fuck her stupid ass

- i wish the end wasn’t so abrupt tbh

- the last five minutes was so good, i teared up

- ugh now i feel empty inside and want to watch it again!!

ugh this show is so good, like insanely good. i feel like most of the time the characterization was wonderful. claude was my favorite, so its no surprise i like claude and leith the best. i didn’t like francis most of the time while he was alive but i missed his presence on the show. bash was an absolute gem. adelaide kane is so hot oml i died multiple times. i really enjoyed watching it!!!

rate: 9/10 archduchesses falling out of a window during sex (still my favorite part of the show)

favorite character: claude! queen catherine!! runner ups: bash, greer, leith, sometimes mary, elizabeth at the endish

favorite season: season 1!! can’t beat the drama!

#reign #reign spoilers!!!!#sorry?#adelaide kane #torrance combs #mary queen of scots #toby regbo #meg follows #catherine de medici

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jeichanhaka · 6 years

Text

If Any Would Avenge: 18

Chapters 01-10|| Chapter 11|| Chapter 12|| Chapter 13||

Chapter 14||Chapter 15|| Chapter 16|| Chapter 17||Chapter 18|| Chapter 19|| Chapter 20|| Chapters 21+||

Surrounded by towering pines and cypresses, the young woman paced from one end of the small clearing to the other, nearer the edge of a lake. Her reflection on the still water revealed her puffy cheeks and blue eyes reddened from unshed tears. "I can't...but if I don't…."

Sadie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, her ebony hair falling over her face; a few strands sticking to her wet cheeks. The last vestiges of the setting sun illuminated her pearl skin with an orange and rosy glow, and she gazed fretfully down at her reflection.

Her heart jumped at the sudden rustling noise coming from the twilight darkened trees, and she froze; her whole body trembled listening to the footsteps approaching. She quickly spun around, scowling at the interloper clad in a donkey skin cloak. Her hand was poised to throw a ball of magic at the older woman, but after a brief whispered threat and a glimpse of something in the other's hand, Sadie stifled her spell.

"Please, don't…." The young woman pleaded, staring at what she could see of the older woman's face beneath the cloak hood. "Don't."

"Do what I said and I won't." The older woman replied crisply, before mumbling something after which she disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Staring blankly in front of him as the vision passed, Gold felt his heart thump painfully and his stomach clench. The voice of the older woman in the vision clear to him despite her face being mostly obscured, and it shocked him to hear its familiar tone without any warmth. It shocked him even more than realizing what it was she held hidden beneath her cloak.

"No…." Gold muttered, stepping away from Kidd without even being aware he did so; all his attention was on the vision and sorting it out. The young woman was Sadie, he recognized her from the previous vision he had of her crushing a heart in front of her parents. As for the cloaked woman...it would be unfathomable for him to not recognize his wife's voice. 'Belle...'

"...Crocodile?" Killian called out as Gold's hold on Kidd weakened, and the latter reached for the gilded skull pendant. It glowed briefly as the assassin's fingertips touched it, but just as quickly it fell and clattered to the floor. Killian and Gold both jolted a bit in surprise as Kidd was magically thrown against the wall by Maleficent.

The dragon sorceress scowled as she entered the room and magically held the assassin against the wall. Regina appeared in a puff of magic moments later, Maleficent having contacted her shortly after arriving in Storybrooke with Gold. "Appears the assassin you're after is already caught, Regina."

"No…." Regina blinked and slowly shook her head, before noticing the pendant on the floor. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, darting back to Kidd with a hateful gleam. "He's one of them, but he's not the one who attacked Belle."

Hearing his wife's name, Gold drew himself away from the shock of his vision and focused instead on the mayor. His eyes gleamed. "Where is Belle? Is she all right? Maleficent said she was attacked, but didn't have any details to give other than you suspect Nemesis did it…."

Regina hesitated, unsure and reluctant to inform Gold of Belle's unborn child being killed, especially since the mayor suspected that the Dark One didn't even know Belle had been pregnant.

"...what is it?" Gold growled through his teeth and glowered at Regina, still tense from his vision. He bristled as an idea occurred to him. "You didn't lie about my wife to drag me back to Storybrooke, did you now? Because if you did…."

"Of course not! I wouldn't…. Belle and her father were attacked by a Nemesis assassin claiming a blood price, as he called it. He…." Regina took in a breath, observing out of the corner of her eye as Maleficent forced Kidd into the empty jail cell next to Killian's. The dragon sorceress hesitated then, silently debating whether to let Killian out or to wait.

"Well?" Gold hissed, itching to simply go and find Belle himself and bring her somewhere safe; somewhere he could protect her and delve deeper into his latest premonition. "Is my wife all right? Or not?"

"Belle's…she was stabbed, but Emma healed her in time." Regina chewed on her bottom lip, still hesitant. "She's resting at the hospital."

"But...Belle's fine?" Gold inquired, bristling at the mismatch between Regina's words and body language. It was clear the former evil queen was keeping something from him. His whole body tensed and his face twisted into an angry scowl when Regina didn't immediately answer 'yes.' "Tell me. Whatever it is you're not saying, tell me now. Or I will gut…."

"...Did you know Belle was pregnant?" Asked Regina, that the only way she could fathom to broach the topic without further faltering or simply blurting it out coldly. One glance at Gold taking a step back, his face contorted in surprise, and Regina knew he hadn't known. "Of course not, otherwise you would've asked about…." She muttered under her breath.

"Belle's…? I'm going to…?" Gold's eyes widened, shock and delight twisting his facial features. It took a few moments longer for him to register the verb tense and the sympathetic expression Regina wore. "Wait a...you said 'was.' Why did you…." Brown eyes widened and searched the mayor's, reading the cold truth in them. "Belle...was attacked...Her baby...was…? Is the baby…?"

Regina swallowed and made a few false starts answering, before shaking her head. The sheriff station stilled, all sound and voice and breathed gone silent taking in Regina's revelation. "We didn't...get to Belle in time to…." The mayor cleared her throat, eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."

Horror contorted Gold's lips, his eyes, and he retreated a step. His heart shuddered, cleaved in his chest, and burned like it was being ripped physically from him without magic. And his hobbled leg gave way, making him stumble against the sheriff station desk. "...No…." He inhaled sharply, shaking and clenching the desk's edge until his knuckles were bloodlessly white. "No. Don't you…. you brought me back to Storybrooke to tell me…." He seethed and glared darkly at Regina, teeth clenched and face contorted in a mix of anger and pain and anguish. "...Another child…I lost another…."

"Rumplestiltskin, I…."

"No!" Gold snapped, just inches from his tipping point and plunge into the deepest, darkest part of himself. "Stay the fuck away! You brought me back here just to tell me that my wife lost….that Belle miscar…." Trembling uncontrollably, Gold coughed and felt his throat tightened, unable to bring himself to say the word. "I just...buried...Gideon, and now you tell me, I lost a...another…." He swallowed, overwhelmed and glowered up at Regina. "You…."

Children's laughter echoed ahead accompanied by the squeaking of a swing, and pattering footsteps running up a slide. Eagerly she started towards the playground, the azure skies overhead shifting to a darker teal and then a cloudy gray. A chilly breeze nipped at her as she drew closer, the children's voices growing faint.

"No! Come back!" She pleaded, running to the now childless playground; her chin trembled when she noticed the disused state of the park. Dust and debris covered the slides, swings, and fort. There was no sign of the children, no footprints or laughter. Her knees gave out and her chest felt like millions and millions of needles were stabbing her. "...please."

Collapsing onto the woodchip covered ground, she sobbed and wrung her hands. Trembled and pleaded, gasping for breath between sobs. Her grief continued unabated, the park silent except for her crying. Her chest burned.

"Please."

"Mother." Came a low voice from behind her, both strange and familiar, and she spun around still on her knees, her face lighting up with joy.

"Gid..."

Her eyes widened at the empty alcove that greeted her; nothing there except shadow and gray skies and crisp leaves struggling to remain on their tree branches. She shivered. Her chest burned and she once more collapsed into a ball of grief.

"Mother." The familiar yet strange voice whispered again, its owner close judging by the volume. She trembled and bit her lip, but deigned to keep her head down, not wanting to hopefully glance towards it to only face disappointment once again. "Mother."

It repeated, accompanied by the shuffling - crinkling of pages being turned. Or rifled through. Followed by a ripping noise, as though a page was being torn from a book.

Sniffling, she peeked up, her blue eyes focusing ahead of her. As she blinked to clear her blurry sight, she noticed a page lain on the gray floor of the alcove. It was an illustration drawn on a page similiar - no, identical - to those found in Henry's storybook. Her breathing quickened and she snatched it up, hoping beyond hope that it held some way - a path or a miracle, to getting back her son.

"Gide...on." She peered at the page, her hands shaking and her eyes blurring. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes and willed her hands to be still a moment. Wide, blue eyes scrutinized the illustration: just an indoor scene of a cradle and a cozy hearth. Simple, quaint.

But foreign to her memories of Gideon. Or their lives in Storybrooke.

"Why...?" She choked and flipped the page over, searching for some clue to its meaning or if it even meant anything at all. A blank page greeted her, and she angrily wiped away her tears, near ready to crumble the page and toss it in the fire burning nearby. "...what?"

She gasped, her surrounding transformed from the playground to that of the hearth from the illustration. In awe and terror she glanced at the fire, watching the flames dance and crackle. It felt so warm, the room saturated with warmth and comfort.

"Where am..."

A baby's mew interrupted her question, and she spun towards it. A crib identical to the illustration greeted her, and in it a baby waddled snugly in a warm blanket. Her breath quickened as she approached the crib, her heart and arms yearning to hold the babe. Without thought and with a sudden realization that her breasts were swollen with milk, she picked up the fussy baby and started nursing him.

It felt right holding him as he suckled, her heart lifting from the dredges of despair as she gazed lovingly down at him. It was, she realized, a dream. But everything felt real and familiar, like a lucid dream one had had before, and she was loathed to do anything but bask in it. The suckling babe felt real, the hearth felt real, the cozy cottage felt real. It all felt real.

It was real.

She gasped, realizing suddenly what the illustration was and where it was from.

"No way." Her chin trembled as she glanced back at the page, understanding creasing her brow. Her bright blue eyes blurred as she turned the page over to the blank side. She swallowed, drawing in an unsteady breath as words began forming on the parchment. Two words, repeated over and over.

Find me.

Heavy shadows spooled around her, and the cozy hearth faded into its inky darkness. The hearth, the cottage, the baby - the shadows ripped it all away. And before Belle could even cry out a plea to hold the child again, everything vanished and her eyes opened to a brightly lit hospital room.

Sitting down in a comfortable and modest armchair in his study, George reclined in the cushioned seat and slowly drew in a breath. After a moment or two he exhaled just as deliberately and closed his eyes as a sudden wave of lethargy filled him. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Beside him on a worn table were a few letters, some professional and others handwritten, enough to form a small pile. On top of that pile sat the page he'd pilfered from Fortunato.

Blank and seemly without any beguiling quality except that it was of the same material as Henry's storybook, it sat where he'd tossed it before sitting down. It was as he reclined in his chair that a faint whisper and scent wafted into the room, emanating from the page. And the same suspicion gnawed at his brain now as back when he first caught sight of the page back on Fortunato's table. There was more to the page. The whisper - filled with muffled words that sounded alternatively like either nursery rhymes or shouts of rage - chilled him. It was a child's voice. Forlorn, enraged, lost.

It beguiled him and made him wonder what it was that whispered. Or who. And why.

A sudden creaking of floorboards and a tapping noise at his study door startled him from his quiet musing. Up he rose from his chair, every muscle in him tensing in quiet anticipation. Though hopeful that his connection to Fortunato and what he requested of the well-versed assassin would not be discovered quickly, he wasn't a fool. Grief at the loss of her children - both born and unborn - may delay Belle discovering her new potion-induced infertility, but he had no doubt it would be discovered. And he expected Gold to hunt down the one responsible.

Something George was banking on, as how quickly the Dark One suspected him would answer a question he'd long pondered. It was the very reason why he had Fortunato douse his blade with the same poison that had made his late wife infertile, although tweaked to work without being ingested. Who had supplied his rival with the infertility potion so long ago, and who had given the scoundrel the idea to do something so underhanded and cowardly.

'Rumplestiltskin's manipulated so much for so long, it'd be impossible to rule him out.' King George narrowed his eyes, standing quietly by his chair with a cold smile on his face. 'Though if this is him at my door, I will certainly have no doubt or regret.'

"Whoever is there, enter." George called out, standing regally even as he stifled a cough and used the back of the chair to propped himself up. His keen eyes watched the door as it slid open and in stepped a figure, clothed in a donkey skin cloak. He blinked, confused as the figure closed the door behind her and stared at him, her face heavily shadowed beneath her hood. "Who...?"

"Oh? Were you expecting someone else?" The figure asked, a strand of loosely curled chestnut hair peeking out from her hood. Her voice surprised King George further, and he scrutinized her closely, attempting to gauge whether she was who he thought. Noticing this, she lowered her hood and allowed him view of her face, clear of all obstruction.

George drew in a breath, his brow knotted in bewilderment. "You? But you were just…. Fortunato just…." The old king stammered, a sharp pain shooting through him as he gripped his chair, struggling to remain on his feet. Seconds later ice cold hands grabbed his wrists and pulled him from the chair, the suddenness nearly causing him to stumble. He remained standing though, sheer willpower keeping him steady on his feet despite the pain in his chest and weariness in his limbs.

The woman by the door simply scowled at him, and slowly but steadily approached.

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