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tumbledfreckles · 3 years

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Stupid

For @flowercrownroman Prompt: Hogwarts Jily - before they were dating but while they were on good terms, maybe an interaction where James sticks up for her and she gives the "I can handle myself'' argument.

Hope you like it! (2.5k)

“Evans.”

Lily kept walking, hoping she was far enough down the corridor that he’d assume she couldn’t hear him.

“Oi, Evans!”

Her pace increased, she was almost to the corner. Once there, she could duck into a bathroom and hide until the coast was clear.

“Lily, I know you can hear me. Wait up.”

Lily sighed as she came to a halt. Used the precious few seconds she had until he was upon her to wave her wand several times, feeling magic spread over her features, soothing her skin.

James was already stopped in front of her when she turned around, less than a foot away. “Finally, Evans. Where’s the fire?”

“In the dungeons,” She did her best to smirk. Judging by the frown on James’ face, it wasn’t a great effort. “What are you doing? You’re not on rounds tonight.”

She would know, given she was on duty.

“Kitchen raid,” James reached up to ruffle his hair, looking a bit sheepish. “Remus needed chocolate.”

Lily’s features softened immediately, “He’s out of the Wing?”

James nodded, “Just after dinner.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Bit rough,” James shrugged. “You know Remus, he won’t complain until it’s pretty much death’s door.”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded. “Sounds like him. Give him my love, will you? And let him know I’ve got notes from Runes. Merlin knows, Peter’s probably aren’t any use to him. I’m pretty sure he fell asleep five minutes into the lecture.”

“Sounds about right,” James said with a laugh.

Lily felt her cheek start to tingle and frowned internally. The glamours shouldn’t have been wearing off that quickly. She mustn’t have focused enough when she was casting. Or there were too many in quick succession. Time to go, in any case. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your mission then.”

James didn’t move, a crease between his brows. “Everything alright, Evans? You look a bit peaky.”

“Yeah, fine,” Lily tried her best to smile. “Tired, is all. Shift’s almost over though.”

He still didn't leave, though she willed him too. “Have you had any trouble?”

Lily shook her head quickly, vehemently. “Hardly seen a soul.”

“Right,” James looked even more suspicious. “Even in the dungeons?”

His question was too pointed. Too knowing. Lily’s heart started to beat faster. “Guess I’ve been lucky,” she said carefully. “Quiet night.”

“Lucky’s not the word, I don’t think,” James’ hand reached forward, toward her face. Toward the spreading tingle that now covered half of it. “Evans -”

Lily cut in before he could start his next question. “What are you doing down this way, anyway? The kitchens are on the other side of the castle.”

“I, uh,” James ruffled his hair again. “I saw you as I crossed the main corridor, I guess. Wanted to check in.”

“I didn’t come from the main corridor,” Lily had used a secret passage to get to this floor. One she wasn’t even sure the Marauders knew about.

“Really, huh,” James’ eyes darted away from her, before settling back on her face. “I could have sworn I saw you.”

“Were you following me?” Lily knew she was onto something when James ruffled his hair for a third time. “Why were you following me?”

“I don’t know, Evans,” James’ voice was scornful, harsh, where before it had been light. The change made her blink. But his next words stopped her in her tracks. “Why were you talking to four baby Death Eaters down in the dungeons just now?”

Lily paled, or she would have, had she not been covered in glamours. Glamours that were fading by the second, if the tingles that had now spread across her entire face were anything to go by. She took a step back, and then another. Used the wand hidden in the folds of her robes to surreptitiously strengthen the charms. “They were out after hours. I was directing them back to their Common Room.”

James followed her, step for step. “And they went? Just like that?”

“You say that like they wouldn’t listen to the Head Girl,” Lily lifted her chin in challenge.

“That lot wouldn’t listen to me, and I’m a pure-” James cut off before he finished the word.

But Lily knew what he would have said, “Pureblood? They won’t listen to another pureblood, even one that’s Head Boy, is that what you were going to say? They won’t listen to the pureblood Head Boy, so why would they listen to the Mudblood Head Girl?”

“Don’t say that,” James’ teeth clenched, the tick in his jaw, always a sign of barely concealed anger, jumping out at her.

“It’s just a word, Potter,” Lily gritted her own teeth, biting the inside of her lip to prevent any tears from falling.

She’d shed enough tears already tonight.

“You shouldn’t let them-”

“Let them, what? Insult me? Degrade me? Put down my family, my home, my magic?” Lily felt angry, sounded angry, even though she knew she wasn’t directing it to the right person. “They don’t exactly need permission, Potter.”

“Evans,” James took another step toward her. “What happened down there?”

“How do you even know they were there? That I saw them?” Lily took a step away. “Were you spying on me? I told you not to use that bloody map to spy on me.”

“I wasn’t!” he insisted. “I was checking if Filch was about, so I could get Remus’ chocolate, and I just happened to see the impromptu meeting outside Sluggy’s room.”

“And you thought you’d glide on in, save me like the white knight you think you are?” Lily wasn’t sure why she was attacking him. He’d clearly worried about her, enough that he’d come looking. It made her heart clench inside her chest, warmth flood her chilled body. And yet she was attacking him.

Meanwhile the tingles had started again. It really was not her night.

James hands balled into fists at his side. “I wasn’t trying to rescue you. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t give you any grief.”

“They didn’t,” she lied blatantly. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he was quiet. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Well, great,” Lily started to turn, knowing she had seconds left before her concealment charms faded. “Off to the kitchens with you, then. And then back to the Tower. I never saw you.” She waved listlessly, not waiting for his reply before taking several hurried steps.

“There’s blood on your hand.”

Lily froze, facing away from him. She looked down, realised that indeed her left hand was smeared with red. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s ink,” she said with a raised voice. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” James reached out, pulling on her shoulder to turn her before she could stop him, her attention still caught by the blood on her hand. “Evans-”

He stopped, eyes on her face, widening so comically Lily would have laughed if she hadn’t felt on the verge of tears. Tears of panic, anger and overwhelming bloody despair. It was extraordinarily clear that the glamour charms she’d cast had failed spectacularly and he could now see what she had been desperate to hide.

“Lily, what happened?”

His eyes roamed over her face, taking in the swelling and no doubt bruising around her right eye. The blood that ran from her nose, still fresh, trailing off her lips, her chin. The painful welts of a burn that encircled her neck, in the shape of hands despite a wand having carried out the action. The rip in the front of her shirt, also smeared in blood from the large gash underneath. The blood had transferred to her hand when she’d tried to hold herself together.

“Nothing,” Lily said. She backed up several steps, her eyes on his as he stood frozen. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. Worse than it looks, you should see the other guy. All that kind of thing. I’ve got to finish rounds, I’ll see you -”

“Stop,” James had caught her before she could turn again. Before she could hightail it out of there, recast the charms and pretend this had never happened. “You are not fine.”

Another step had her back against the wall. Nowhere left to run. She refused to meet his gaze, not wanting to see the concern. The pity. She focused on his left ear instead. “It’s nothing.”

“It is not nothing.”

“Leave it, Potter. It’s naught to do with you.”

His expression darkened, “I’ll fucking kill them.”

“No, you won’t,” Lily’s eyes flew to his now, as her hand reached out to grip his forearm, preventing him from following through on his words.

“Evans, they can’t get away with this,” James looked as distressed as she felt, but for a different reason. “We have to go to Dumbledore.”

“You can’t,” Lily’s eyes flashed, her hand held him tighter. It should have been painful by now, but James looked as if he couldn’t even feel her. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What are you talking about, Evans?” James shook his head. “You’re Head Girl. They can’t just do this.”

“Exactly,” her chin lifted, her face set. “I’m Head Girl. No one can know.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“They bested me, Potter,” tears pricked at her eyes as she croaked the words out. They were tight in her throat, making a hoarse, rasping sound. “They bested me, and I’m the Head Girl. If they can best me, they can best anyone. No one can know.”

“It was four on one. You can’t expect to win with four on one.”

“That doesn’t matter.” He didn’t get it. She had to make him understand. “That part doesn’t matter. All that the students will remember, is that those cowards picked a fight with the Head Girl, the Muggleborn Head Girl, and they won. Muggleborns are going to be terrified, and everyone else isn’t going to want to cross them. Worse, they might join them, just so they aren’t next. We can’t let that happen.” She pulled on his wrist, urging him to agree. “James, no one can know.”

He watched her for a long time. His eyes held hers, searching them. She could see the wealth of emotions flicking through his gaze as he processed what she’d said. Anger, of course, so furious, so raw it seemed like he was burning. Disbelief, reluctance, defiance. A general unwillingness to go along with her request. Sadness, as his eyes flicked over her again, concern and worry taking over his expression.

Lily dropped her head before she could see the pity.

Who wouldn’t pity her? She was weak, pathetic, a failure. She was meant to be a symbol of hope, a sign that the Death Eater’s were wrong. She was meant to be so strong, so powerful, so talented, that no one could ever doubt her place in this world. She was meant to be faultless, flawless, infallible.

She had failed.

A touch to her cheek, careful and timid, brought her back to him. James held her face gently in his palm, using his thumb to lift her chin even higher. He wasn’t looking at her face, Lily realised, as she tried to look at his. His attention was focused on her neck, his other hand bringing his wand tip to her neck. Even the lightest contact to the fragile skin made her whimper.

“Sorry,” James muttered. “Just, hold still a sec.” Almost as soon as he’d finished speaking a coolness spread across her neck. It was a welcome relief, taking the pain away with it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. He was closer than she thought he’d ever been before. It was almost possible to count his eyelashes behind his glasses, he was so close.

“I’m not finished.” He used his thumb to move her head this way and that, prodding and casting in succession.

Lily felt the magic wash over her again and again, and with each wave, the pain lessened. Her shoulders sagged in relief as the tension rained away with the pain. She felt his wand move to her stomach, where the biggest slicing hex had hit her, and tried not to react as he carefully pulled her shirt up, eyes flicking to hers until she nodded her permission, to see what needed to be done. His hand was warm on her skin, and despite the situation, Lily wasn’t surprised to find she didn’t mind his touch.

Welcomed it, really.

“Have I missed anything?” Her shirt dropped back down but his hand stayed where it was on her side. His gaze roamed over her again, finally meeting her eyes again. There was not pity there, only concern. Concern, and caring, and something else that she couldn’t quite name. She only knew it made her feel warm.

Lily shook her head, “Think that was it. Thank you.”

James shrugged, “You don’t need to thank me. I care about you. You know that.”

“I do know that. And I care about you,” she attempted a smile. ”How things have changed this year.”

“Not so far if you’re still trying to hide stuff from me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she reached for his arm again, but ended up holding his hand. “I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it quiet.”

He threaded his fingers into hers, squeezing even as he sighed heavily. “I want them to pay. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“You can’t,” Lily started. She reached up, pushing his hair back out of his eyes, off his glasses. “I don’t want people to think that I’m not every bit as deserving of magic as they are.”

“You’re being stupid. No one will think that.” His fingers smoothing up and down her side, clenching on her hip. She tried not to shiver at the contact. He was looking at her in the way that made her feel warm again.

Lily didn’t try to argue with him. Instead, she braced a hand on his chest, pushing up onto her tiptoes to make up the difference in their heights. With James already looking down at her, it didn’t take much to press her lips to his. The touch was soft, sweet, a balm to the terror she’d felt much earlier in the night.

“What was that for?” James asked when she pulled back, dropping down onto her heels. He looked

Her hand stayed on his chest, fingers curled into his robes as she smiled. “You said I was being stupid. Thought I may as well live up to it.”

His lips twitched at both ends, “Kissing me is stupid?”

She nodded, slowly, her grin widening. “Very.”

James leaned down, so close their noses brushed. “Care to be stupid again? I could get on board with that kind of stupid.”

“In for a penny, in for a -” Lily didn’t even get to finish the saying before James’ hand buried in her hair and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her firm against him as his lips captured hers again.

#jily #jily fic #jily prompt #hogwarts jily #jily fanfic #freckles writes #canon jily #fluff

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

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hello!! i am really really sorry if this sounds pushy or somethin but, will you ever publicly release that post swearth drabble you made?? i just curious

Today is actually the scheduled day, and on my partner's birthday no less, how fitting! Originally posted to my kofi for early access to supporters, now it's here for everyone!

Synopsis: Swerve and a human reader share a talk when he awakens after Swearth.

You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up, or so he would tell you later. Moments after he'd confessed how it was your touch, your tiny body clinging so tightly to him, that had welcomed him back to the land of the living. Apparently that had been the clue he needed to realize he wasn't dead.

It had been just you and him in the medical bay for hours following the... Swearth Incident, save for brief check ups from Velocity. The crew had given the two of you ample space and alone time once it was confirmed Swerve would soon awaken, both out of respect and to avoid the talk that would doubtless be needed between the two of you. There had been more than one occasion where you'd drifted off in the eternity it had taken for him to completely return to consciousness, your much smaller body protectively clinging to his beneath a blanket some unknown visitor had been kind enough to lay over you.

It seemed silly now, but you'd actually been angry when he'd come to so casually, yawning and rubbing his visor as if he was just waking from a nap. There'd been happiness as well, obviously, but you were still struggling too deeply to pretend everything was okay. Quite frankly, things had never been less okay between the two of you.

Had you not been able to project down onto his fantasy world, joining the rescue party despite the copious limits of your biology, who was to say you'd have ever seen him awake again? He'd been hiding away in his room for months, dissuading you from visiting him by claiming there was "a huge mess that I'm too lazy to clean up"... Knowing that you weren't sure which hug had last been with his real self hurt more than you were ready to accept.

"Y/N...?"

Anger was briefly swallowed by a tsunami of relief when he sleepily murmured your name, his helm turning to let your face reflect on the newly polished surface of his visor, where your tear slicked expression dissapeared as you hugged him as securely as his broad shoulders allowed.

"I thought I'd lost you..."

A knot in your throat prevented any further words from tumbling out, but the sobs that started to shake your whole body conveyed your thoughts just as well, sending a surge of hot tears splashing against his chest. Arms thicker than you wrapped gently about your smaller body, as calmly as if he were comforting you after a nightmare. A slight tremble in his grip made you hiccup in despair, your experience with his rather frequent hugs telling you the exhaustion from his still recent brush with death was still weighing him down, as ordinarily he would hold you like a lifeline for even the most casual embrace. Too many terrible things were finally registering as real far too quickly for you to process them all.

"I thought... when they called me into the medical bay..." You lost the tirade you'd been saving up to a storm of long buried grief. The memory of that call would forever haunt you, and now it was so recent the words were still burning in your ears, even though they'd been delivered so carefully... Agony from the sight of a familiar body lying broken on a medical slab made you nauseous, enough that only his increasingly desperate hug kept you grounded enough not to puke. Words poured forth in a cracked whisper, all the fear you'd been holding back for his sake rushing out of you without restraint, and interrupted only by an occasional hiccup or sob. "First Aid said you had days... That we'd been talking to a hologram for months, while you... you..."

The servos holding you tight maneuvered you to look him in the visor, keeping you in a loose hug while he put on what was probably intended to be a reassuring smile, though it failed to convince. "Hey, it was no big deal! Just my old shoulder wound playing up!"

"No big deal?" you repeated incredulously. A full body wince beneath you made it seem as if the words had physically hurt him, and while your heart ached as it always did when he was in pain, your other feelings could no longer be contained. He needed help for the suffering he'd endured in private, but in doing what he'd done you had nearly lost the one you cherished more than anything in the galaxy. You couldn't be expected to just let that go.

"You nearly died! You were dying for months!" you said, disbelief still strong at the very idea. The bot you'd adored had been dying in secret with no symptoms, making it impossible to truly believe he was okay in this moment either. It seemed as if he might crumble beneath you at the slightest movement, but you kept talking, refusing to be quiet. "No one knew, not even me, that you were wasting away while we thought everything was fine! I didn't know! How many times did you hold me, or tell me you wanted to be together forever, while you..."

Sobs made it impossible to breathe, and therefore impossible to talk.

"Y/N, I'm sorry..." Swerve said, softer than he'd ever been before. Careful servos pulled in your crying body against his and stroked your shaking shoulders, allowing you to vent everything you'd been enduring. Whether it took moments or hours before you were mostly quiet, he didn't interrupt you for anything, and he was silent until you were and he spoke again. "I never wanted to hurt anyone... I never wanted to hurt you... I... I didn't even know how bad of shape I was in."

"But you knew you were lying." you said, getting back to the core of the problem. Awareness of his condition mattered far less in the face of what he'd known and kept on doing. Though he did flinch yet again, Swerve didn't deflect this point, and instead nodded glumly in agreement.

"That... yeah, I did."

"To everyone." you emphasized, pushing for an answer in regards to why. Not a single soul on the ship had known what was happening, until it was almost too late. Had Skids not acted so quickly and carried his friend to the medical bay directly... You made a mental note to thank him later, then returned to the present when the minibot in question finally looked ready to really talk.

Taking more than a few starting vents, he finally got his thoughts gathered and his nerves primed, but every single word was unnaturally heavy. "It... it really didn't seem like a big deal. You were the only one who ever wanted to see me, in my own place, but it felt like I was doing you a favor..." Swallowing hard, he managed something like a smile and tried to sound reassuring, even if only to himself. "We still got to talk and everything else!"

There was too much to sort through in his partial explanation, thus you only stared. You'd always known he had issues when it came to self worth, but to hear him say teetering on the edge of death was no big deal? That by ridding you of himself he was doing you a favor? It wasn't something you could really wrap your brain around, but you supposed that wasn't important at the moment, not compared to what still needed to be done. There were more questions to be asked.

"You're hurting, and that's... I know you'd never try to hurt me, but you did. I want you to feel better, and I'll help, but I have to ask..." you said softly, finding the strength only as you came to each individual word to continue. Swerve showed in his braced expression that he anticipated something heavy was coming, a question he really didn't want to answer, but he didn't do anything to stop you.

"Y/N..."

Trying not to cry but still hiccuping, you forced yourself to keep looking in his visor. This wasn't supposed to be easy, after all, you repeated in your head as you finally croaked out the question. "Did you think about me at all? What this would do to me? Did you really think I wouldn't care?"

Something within him, something physical, seemed to break quickly and painfully. You felt it in how he flinched his much larger body as you lay curled over him. The unique way his visor light sputtered when he was hit with deep emotion told you he was reeling, and in that moment you forgot all about the complexities of the situation.

"I... I didn't-" he choked out on a sob, vents pulling air back and forth quickly in the Cybertronian equivalent of breathless crying. Heart breaking, you registered in some deep part of your brain that a dam he'd been relying on had just cracked. Embracing his helm against your chest, you gently stroked his cheek, whispering his nickname to try and convey your support.

"Swervy..."

Clipped by sobs, his words tumbled out mostly coherently, and you held him as they did. "I r-really thought you could... could do better. I'm just h-holding you back and... and if I wasn't there... but I couldn't make myself stop seeing you!" A few hard sobs stopped him for a good minute, at which point your shirt began to dampen with his tears. What you were hearing had been simmering for ages, and as much as it hurt to hear, you knew just letting it out was progress. That didn't make it any easier to listen as he continued...

"The holo... it was s-slow and made it like... like I was saving us both from hurt by slipping away. I didn't have to end things, we could pull back bit by bit and then... then you'd find someone better... but I didn't pull back at all, did I? I even made a second you, because I'm too selfish-"

You couldn't let him finish that thought. "Stop. No more of that."

Swerve looked surprised at your firmness, and admittedly had reason to feel as such. Swearth had included a holomatter of you already, albeit one that lived completely separate from his split personas... It had been you in the simplest, happiest of ways, living your dream life on his fictional escape from reality. Clearly he expected you to still be furious at what had only made you sad.

"B-but I ruined everyt-thing! If I'd just been brave enough to break up with you before-"

"I don't want you to break up with me!" you cried, lifting your upper body to look down at him. Emotions raged inside you with enough ferocity to make you tremble, and for an instant you had to gather yourself. You'd known he was suffering, that he struggled with inadequacy, but for it to have gotten so bad? How had you not known he felt like this?

Swerve looked absolutely baffled at your words, as if he'd heard you wrong or misunderstood. "But... I-"

"I love you! Even if there's some voice in your head that won't let you believe it, it's true! I want to be with you, and even after all this I still do!" you insisted, holding onto him as if he might vanish in a flash like before. Unable to stop yourself from crying at the raw emotions you didn't have the ability to handle, you wiped away the tears on the back of your arm, fighting to keep talking despite the pain. He had to know how you really felt, and if this moment was the only one you could break through to him you were going to use it. His cheeks were hot in your hands as you cupped his face. "I just need you to work on getting better! No more hiding, or lying, or any of that, I want you to be with me as you, because that's who I fell in love with!"

Swerve was totally silent, his little dentae gap showing between his slightly parted lips as he stared at you. His feelings were beyond guessing, but you were growing exhausted, too much to even hope you could keep this up. Sniffling, you laid back down over him. The frame beneath you was warm and alive, but just that morning it had been... he'd been so close to leaving you. Then again, he'd felt fine all the times you'd held him in the prior months, how did you know this was any different?

"I want to be with you. The real you. I don't know how to be sure this you is real either..."

Exhaustion dragged you down against him, and you lost the ability to even lift your head as it all seemed to sink in. You hadn't wanted to make this about yourself, but your pain was just too intense to shove aside. Tears, more than you knew you had, continued to fall onto his chest. As they dripped onto the newly cleaned armor, you felt him suddenly shift beneath you. Curling up partway, he scooped you up completely in his arms and hugged you close.

"It's me this time, babe. A hundred percent. I k-know it's hard to believe that, but I... I want to help you trust me." he said, shaky but firm as he made his promise. For all the hours you'd spent listening to him you'd never once heard him use such a tone. There was conviction in the depths of his visor as he held you close, tapping his forehead against your forehelm. While you could also see pain, there was a desire to fight it now. His request for help came on a quiet murmur. "I don't know how to do that, but I don't wanna hurt anymore..."

"I can help with that. Not all by myself, but I'll be here for you as long as you try." you vowed, stumbling over your words as you found them. There was a strange solace in the idea, as if planning your recovery together was healing in and of itself. Too relieved to care, you pressed your face into his cheek. The faintest hint of his usual scent; sweet energon blends and brews, was still apparent beneath the sterile medical air. It soothed you as you allowed yourself to rest on top of him. "From now on, no more hiding this stuff. We're gonna get you feeling better, I promise."

"I love you..." Swerve whispered, hopefully but tentatively. A lifetime of doubt wouldn't just dissapear after one massive event, you knew that, but the start was good enough for you. Kissing his tear stained cheek, you held him close, hoping your unconditional love was clear in every word. It would be a journey, but you hoped someday he'd understand how much you meant it.

"I love you too, Swervey. Always will."

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light imagine #lostlight #lost light #idw #tf #ll #my writing #swerve x reader #swerve #swearth #kofi

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aikidoheroine · 3 years

Text

Tenmaki -Understanding-

Backflip, backflip, backflip

Tenko Chabashira, Ultimate Aikido Master (Or a variant of it anyway) kept twisting and edging backwards in fluid motion; sounds of air cuts passing by her. If one were to slow down, they could see knives being the thing making the sound through the air. Knives courtesy of Maki Harukawa, former Ultimate Babysitter, current Ultimate Assassin.

The two are locked in what was going to be a simple spar, but it grew to become a heated battle because Tenko is as aggressive with her mouth as her kicks and punches entail.

It all started 1 minute ago.

“Say Maki-chan, being alone and aloof from everyone else…that is no way to live! You should make friends and try to unburden yourself! If you like someone, you should be able to trust them, right? That’s what friends do. They trust each other.”

Tenko had no idea what caused Maki to explode, but she found herself dodging knives. Where is Maki even keeping those knives, Tenko has no idea. She lost count after 29. Doesn’t Maki carry 30? usually? At least, that’s what Kokichi said once. But who knows if that was lie. Almost everything out of that clown’s mouth is a lie in some sort of fashion.

After the 7th flip, Tenko lands on her feet, thankful that she felt the knife rain finally come to an end (that’s going to be a mess to clean up later), but the rain of pain came to her. Maki, despite her thin body shape, is surprisingly agile. Agile enough to close in on Tenko in seconds with another knife (There’s the 30th one), and strike at Tenko.

While Tenko acknowledges Maki is faster, and possibly stronger (Tenko witnessed the girl lift a 100 pound rocket launcher like was nothing), Maki lacks in ways Tenko excels at.

Namely, reflexes. Tenko already knew Maki would have closed the gap between them; its what Maki does, unconsciously or not (Assassin perks, maybe). Even before Maki began the strike, Tenko moved just as fast and with one hand, grips Maki’s wrist holding the knife, and the other one, she strikes an open palm right onto Maki’s chest.

The impact was quick. Maki dropped the knife and coughed her breath out. But she wasn’t out, not by a longshot. She didn’t earn the title of Ultimate Assassin by cowering under simple blows. She retaliates as quickly, leaping; she catches Tenko’s neck with her legs and twists her sideways, pulling both of them down. Tenko landed on her back (Thankful for the mats, otherwise that would have hurt), while Maki lands on her 4 feet like a cat. She grabs the fallen knife with her teeth (What are you Maki, a dog?), and leaps onto Tenko’s lap, about to swipe again at Tenko.

Tenko’s reflexes save her again, able to block the swipe by forming an X with her hands, and pushes them on Maki’s neck; narrowly avoiding the swipe and keeping Maki back. Maki however, persists and pushes forward, twisting her mouth and lips to grab the knife from the hilt and pushes down to try and stab Tenko.

“This is…ridiculous!” Tenko yells, teeth grit. She’s able to move her legs and lifts them back to wrap around Maki’s neck, and then pushes back with both arms and legs. “Off Maki!”

Tenko’s strength and position helps in this case, and she’s able to get Maki off her, one last push gets Maki to flip backwards and skid a little back; though she sprints back at Tenko with no intention of letting the Aikido Master get up.

Tenko does manage to get up. As soon as she got Maki off her, she spun herself in a manner similar to breakdancing, then users her legs as a weight, and lifts herself back up like a trampoline swing. “Aha!” And quickly, back on the defensive she is, as Maki dropped the knife from her mouth, back to her hand and goes for a flurry of strikes and swipes.

Tenko thankfully is skilled enough to parry each one, hands balled to fists, she punches the strikes away from dealing any real damage; though the constant clashes, and being pushed back got to Tenko.

She formulated a plan; simple and to the point. ‘Steady…steady…now!’ finding just the right time to counter, Tenko instead, ducks under one of Maki’s swipes, and sweeps her leg, knocking Maki off-balance. Tenko then leaps and grabs Maki by her sides and slams her down “HAAH!” no mercy for the Assassin.

Once Maki hit the mats (and pretty damn hard. Tenko did not hold back that one time), the force of the impact gets her to drop her knife, and Tenko then sits on Maki’s lap and holds her two arms by her wrists. Neutralization, success.

“…Phew.” Tenko let out a sigh of relief. Now that the 'spar’ finally stopped, she realized just how fast her heart is racing, and the sweat she fells all over. It was a quick fight, but still, it put her on edge. Maki was using real knives. It could have hurt her, or worse. “I would normally say that was fun spar Maki-chan, but you were using real weapons! I could have been hurt!” Tenko said with a frown. “I apologize for any rudeness in my earlier comment, but I meant what I said.”

“…You actually managed to beat me.” Maki said, surprised. She didn’t make any motion to try and get out; she admits defeat. “…I guess that makes it 2-1 for now, still leading.”

Tenko would have been flattered, under normal circumstances, but not this time. “Please don’t flatter me Maki-chan; especially when you don’t mean it.”

“…” Maki grumpily stayed quiet, not even looking at Tenko anymore. “I don’t rely on others Chabashira. I’m an Assassin, get it? I kill people; for a living.” she sighs, and decides to look at Tenko “Whether my target is innocent or guilty, it doesn’t matter. I silence them forever, get paid, move on to the next one. I don’t feel anything, I shouldn’t, feel anything; especially friendship or…anything deeper than that.”

“…You don’t believe that.” Tenko said. “I can tell Maki-chan. Not just by words, but your body. You put on a brave face, threatening anyone, always trying to be intimidating…but I see it. At the table, at the trials, when you see other people talking like friends, like Shuichi and Kaito. You have that look of sadness in your face, showing your true emotions.”

Whether Tenko’s words hit Maki or not, Maki didn’t show it. “Its not your problem to solve.”

“Maybe not.” Tenko admits as much. “But this isn’t an assassin’s mission, is it Maki-chan? We’re trapped, with other people. People that regardless of how you and I feel about, have to work together to get out of this mess.”

“Akamatsu tried. You saw how that worked out.”

Kaede…It may have been more than a week since then, but to Tenko, its like it happened hours ago. Its still vivid in her head. The imagery, Kaede’s look of despair as death slowly took hold of her, and nobody was able to do anything about it. Spectators to an execution no one wanted, for a crime Kaede didn’t even want to commit.

To Tenko, a defender of justice, protector of the weak; it was an insult to her pride and honor.

“I don’t need to be reminded of that.” Tenko said. “But I have never doubted Kaede-chan’s words. To get out of here alive, all of us.” her eyes drooped a little. “…I admit that while I don’t show it, I am afraid of what may come next.”

“I’m not.” Maki replies bluntly.

“Liar.” Tenko frowns again. “In this fight we just had, you told me otherwise.”

Maki didn’t say anything to that, staying strangely quiet. Tenko took this is a queue to continue. “Every swipe, stab, every movement you did…it wasn’t normal for you. Your movements were quick, but sloppy. With determination, but no end goal. Every attack has shown to me that you’re afraid, desperate to exit this confounding prison that Monokuma created against our wills.”

“If you were really aiming to kill me Maki, you would have done so much easier than what you showed me today. I know full well your capabilities to end a life. You did not end mine…so I know, that you are afraid too, for what comes after death here, is facing your own death; and that terrifies you.”

“As strong as you are…facing death, that should never be done alone.”

Maki bit her lip, annoyed and…admittedly showing her fear now, if only a little. “Strength of my own is all I know Chabashira. I never had to rely on anyone else but myself.”

Tenko nods. Her grip on Maki loosens “I know this…I know you are strong Maki-chan.” She lets go of Maki’s wrists, and looses her own hands, relaxed…comfortable. “But someone that has always fought alone, will never know the strength of fighting alongside others. The kind of strength Kaede wanted from us.” Tenko gets off Maki’s lap and stands up, still staring at her, but now a gaze; A strange mix of sorrow and hopeful “The kind of strength I want to hope, can get us to escape with no more victims or murderers. Back to where we belong.”

“…” Maki didn’t move from her spot, though relieved Tenko got off her at least. “…You never spoke with Akamatsu. Why are you holding her in such a strong regard?”

“…” Tenko takes a step forward and slowly sits next to Maki, looking opposite of where Maki is. “It is true…we only spoke once, before the murder of Rantaro. I suppose its not really about Kaede herself, as a wonderful person I’m sure she was; rather…” Tenko bit her lip. “What she represents to me.”

Maki raised an eyebrow, confused. Clearing her throat, Tenko continues.

“As someone that upholds protecting the weak, the innocent, seeing Kaede die the way she did, in such a cruel, unfitting matter…God you have no idea how badly I wanted to crush Monokuma and those damn cubs of his. But it would have been for nothing. I know that, I felt that…but I still wanted to. Because Kaede deserved better; killer or not of that degenerate Rantaro; she wouldn’t have done that if Monokuma had forced us to this evil game of his.”

As she spoke, Tenko’s sadness turned to grief, to anger, to hopelessness. Tears nearly threatened to leave her eyes, and they did. “This killing game goes against everything I believe in; and I hate it. I hate the very idea of it. Comrades and friends being forced to kill each other for some sick proof of an ideal is no way to live; no matter if the whole world wants to think that way, it being acceptable doesn’t mean that it should be ok for anyone to not question it. We question drugs, we question the morality of mental health, but we don’t question abuse? murders?” Tenko shook her head. “We are Ultimates. We bring hope to those that can’t do so, in odd ways, yes. But we still do our parts every day, with hard work and determination.” Tenko shook vividly as she said this. “Monokuma took that hope, and twisted it to something of pure evil; all for laughs.” she stood up again, wiping her eyes from the tears and the sniffs. “I can never forgive a person like that, or anyone that supports such actions and ideals. So for that…I have to fight to keep us together, to work together and live another day. Kaede would have wanted that. I, want that.” Tenko greatly emphasizes in her grief.

“…” Maki didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Tenko’s speech caught her off-guard. In truth, Maki never really thought of it that way. A simple life, compared to Tenko’s complex one. To kill, and to protect.

’…Would killing the mastermind truly end this?’ Maki thought to herself. 'Who’s to say someone else will take their place? Someone with equally twisted ideals?’ history shows as much. You kill one dictator, 2 more pop up someone else. Its like killing ants in a way.

’…Have my killings served any purpose, I wonder…’ Maki mused. 'Were they for the greater good? Or for the selfish ambitions of another? …did my actions caused others to die?’

…Well, whatever the answers to that, it doesn’t matter now. Too late to look back on done deeds. But maybe this once…

“…Hey.” Maki got up, and grabbed her knife. She pockets it. “…Tomorrow, same time?” Maki pauses for a moment. “…No knives.”

Surprised, Tenko looks at Maki wide eyed and mouth agape “Maki-chan…?”

Maki stands up and dusts herself off. “I’ll see you then…Tenko.” With that, Maki leaves the Gym, leaving a flabbergasted Tenko behind.

Though once she left, Maki looks at her knife, her own reflection in the silver blade. ’…Fight for others…its not my thing. I doubt it could ever be my thing.’ Maki pockets it again. 'But…maybe just this once…I can try, if only for Tenko, and Kaede. I am an assassin, that will never change. …Yet, would the kids at the orphanage…would they admire me if they knew what I did? What I’ve done?’

Himiko, Angie! I made friends with Maki-chan! I got her to acknowledge me as a friend!

That’s great Tenko! Atua has blessed you indeed!

“Oi, don’t let it go to your head!” Maki yelled angrily, yet couldn’t help herself to smile…if only once.

“Wow, thank you so much, Goryuck! I didn’t expect something like this, but this is such a sweet surprise! I’m going to cherish this forever!”

#it's me! (visage)#Tenmaki #Harushira: strong girls with soft hearts #submission

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sapphiics · 3 years

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blessed are the forgetful

Jennifer Jareau Gen fic a/n: I watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind and immediately thought of this for JJ! I'm thinking of doing this as a series for the entire team so let me know what you think! Also I made JJ fifteen when Roslyn dies as opposed to 10/11, it was easier to write. I did not know how to finish this at all so sorry if the ending is kind of weird

Warnings- mentions of suicide and blood

Word Count : 1207

Summary : It’s been too long, and JJ is tired of grieving by herself.

It took JJ’s parents 108 days to cave in. The funeral had happened over two months ago, and everything had been moved to the garage. Marked boxes stacked in a corner. When her parents had the procedure done, the technicians put tape over her name, her parents none the wiser.

JJ hated them at first. She already thought it was selfish how they were splitting up, leaving her in the middle of the two of them. What they did only further solidified her anger at them. Now, she’s starting to believe they were right. It would be so much easier to forget. Forget her smile, forget her eyes, forget how angry she was in the days leading up. Screaming at Dad, yelling at Mom, shutting JJ out. Forget finding their first child, their seventeen year old daughter, bleeding to death in the bathtub with Dad’s razor blade lying next to her.

But they didn’t find her. Their other daughter did. The one they still have, who's still alive . Only JJ is barely there herself. She can’t stand to be around either of them anymore. The technicians told her to refrain from speaking of Roslyn anymore. Their own daughter, gone. A memory they both erased to ease their pain, their hurt. Leaving JJ in her own mourning, her pain crashing down upon her with nobody to help. No shoulder to cry on, arms to wrap around her. It’s impossible, because they simply don’t remember. They don’t remember sitting in the only hospital in their town, the two of them cramped on a hospital bed smiling down at their first child. Roslyn finally taking her first steps at 18 months in the backyard as they taped the entire thing. They erased those memories, burned those tapes. Can’t remember her first day of kindergarten, JJ nestled in the arms of her mother as Roslyn bounded up the stairs of their elementary school. It’s all gone for them, living on only in JJ’s memory. Like a ghost no one else believes in. A spirit haunting no one but her.

JJ keeps everything. It doesn’t matter if the technicians say it could cause harmful triggers to her parents. They chose that brain damage, the easy way out. She’s done putting any of their needs first. Her parents left her to suffer alone. Roslyn’s necklace sits on her neck, ‘a gift from a friend.’ Her journal sits on JJ’s bedside, her shoes under the bed. Her blankets have replaced JJ’s own, and her clothes sit in a basket at the bottom of JJ’s closet. The perfume is JJ’s favorite memento. When it's late, and she just wants to scream at her parents for moving on and leaving her in the unbearable grief of losing a sister at 15, she sits in her basket of clothes, sprays the perfume, and closes her eyes. And for one fleeting second, she can almost trick her brain into believing that she isn’t utterly alone.

There’s this moment every morning JJ wakes up. This one euphoric moment. Where she doesn’t remember anything. Her mind is completely blank, and for a split second, she feels happy. And then reality sets in and her despair kicks her further than she could ever imagine, and the guilt pools in her stomach, Guilt because the best part of her day, the best part of her life for the past 108 days, is the moment when she forgets Roslyn. JJ clutches Ros’s necklace around her neck, dropping back down into her sheets. She starts sympathizing more with her mother and father.

It takes months for her to work up the courage to schedule an appointment with Lacuna. Day 224. JJ knows she won’t follow through with the procedure, but a part of her needs to see it. See how her parents just erased Roslyn. The doctor made it seem so normal, just help create a map of that person in your brain, and they’ll delete all the memories for you. You even wake up in your own bed. JJ was with her grandparents that day, none the wiser of what her parents were doing until dinner time came around and they had to explain to her what was going on. How her parents took her sister and deleted her. Like a file in their brain they didn’t need anymore. She walks out of the clinic, disgusted by the fact that for a pitiful minute, she was seriously contemplating following in the footsteps of her Mom and Dad. The harsh Pennsylvanian winter bites at her cheeks, freezing the tears she knows are bound to fall as she briskly walks home. A pamphlet is tucked in her back pocket.

“She was angry and withdrawn,” JJ exclaims bitterly, ”it was like living with a stranger! I hate saying it out loud but all I could think about initially, before it really set in, was that there would finally be peace.” The technician, a guy named Stan, motions for her to continue, ”But then it wasn’t peace, it was just a flood of grief, and I’m angry because everybody but me has either moved on or forgotten about her and I cannot keep living like this,” she finishes, angry tears sneaking out of her eyes and onto her flushed cheeks. “ Thank you Ms. Jareau, we have enough. If you could just lean back and place your head under here,” tapping the mechanical contraption hanging from the ceiling,” we could get started. When the procedure is finished, you will awaken in your bed as if nothing has occurred, your memories of your sister completely gone.” JJ’s face slackens, the reality of what she's doing feeling like a gut punch. Her sister, her Rosalyn, erased. All her mementos, all their memories together, just gone. The sacred fifteen years they got to spend together. Could she really do that to her beloved sister, wipe her away like a dirty mark on her life? But then JJ remembers the pain. The horrific overwhelming, all-consuming pain she’s been in for the past 9 months. The dreadful loneliness she’s been suffocating in around her parents, around the entire town that looks at her with their pitiful eyes. The sob-filled nights that she spends huddled in her sister’s blankets, desperately reaching for someone who simply isn’t there anymore. Is it so bad that she wants to be free of that?

JJ wakes up in her bed, the sunrise shining through her window. And just like every other day, that utter happiness hits her. Her hand lifts towards her neck, nothing around it. The happiness stays, the feeling settling into her head, heart, all the way to her toes. And then JJ turns, her eyes catching a glance at her bed stand table. Lying on top of her dead sister's journal, is that same dead sister’s necklace. And the sadness pours, the same feeling washing over JJ for the millionth time. It’s more bittersweet today, her immense grief worth it because she has a sister to remember. JJ sits up in her bed, grabs the notebook and necklace, and slides back into the blanket, cracking open the journal like an old book. And for the first time in 276 days since Rosalyn Jareau died, JJ relishes in every single memory.

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau fic #jennifer jareau fanfiction #grace writes

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quackeroos · 4 years

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spring day pt.2 | p.parker

Pairing: peter parker x Stark!Hanahaki!reader, peter parker x michelle jones

Summary: peter discovers the truth about y/n’s condition. y/n had already accepted the inevitable, but peter wasn’t. he came up with a plan that could possibly save her, now all he has to do is get her to agree with it.

Warnings: all through out this story there will be mentions of blood, death, and will contain pining and angst.

Words: 5.6k for everyone!

A/n: your positive feedback from part 1 inspired me so much while i was writing this, so thank you guys so much! i didn’t expect Spring Day to reach 300+ notes in a week ‘coz my past works didn’t... well before. so thank you so much! i forgot to mention this in the first part, but the the idea of naming this series came from BTS’ song “Spring Day”. you guys can listen to the song while reading it! but if you’re not into kpop, that’s fine. why did i name this series “Spring Day”? you’ll find out at the end of the series.next update will hopefully by next week. my birthday writing challenge is still on-going, so everyone is still welcome to join! ARI’S BIRTHDAY WRITING CHALLENGE!

*gif is not mine

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Hanahaki. It’s a disease caused by unrequited love, wherein flowers grow inside your chest and cover up your respiratory system, making the host cough up petals and blood until you die.”

Peter was silent for a moment. He was sitting beside her. Mask in hand, his head hung low, just looking at the pile of petals and blood. Everything was still a blur for him, so he replied with a low tone. “How long have you had this?”

“A few years.”

Peter winced at her reply. She had been hiding her disease for years and didn’t tell him? Peter tried to remain cool, hoping she could explain more. There had to be a reason why she hid it from him and their friends. Everything she does after all was for a reason. “Why didn’t you tell any of us you’ve had this for so long? We could’ve helped you.”

She sighed. “Peter, even if I told you guys, there’s nothing you can do.” Even though he couldn’t see her face, the sadness was laced in her voice.

“What do you mean that there’s nothing we can do? There has to be a cure for that!”

“It’s isn’t that simple, Peter.” She stood up from her bed facing him, making Peter look up at her. “It’s either I get surgery or… or my love gets requited. And surgery doesn’t always work.”

He scoffed, “So you plan on giving up?”

“I’m doing the surgery. Pepper has already talked to Stephen and Christine about it. I’m getting the surgery by the end of the week.”

“But you said it yourself that the surgery doesn’t always work! Y/n the best chance you have is getting your love requited.” As if that wasn’t the most obvious answer. Y/n almost laughed, if only he knew. There was a time she did thought of that. Try and come between MJ and Peter to save herself from the heartbreak and the disease. Maybe she could do that? Be selfish for once. After all, all her life she had been used to giving, sharing, putting others before herself. But the little voice at the back of her mind was keeping her from doing so. She couldn’t do that to MJ. Most specially, she couldn’t do that to Peter. She had always been at the side, watching him pine over MJ ever since she became more open to their little friend group.

“Who is it then? Who did you fall in love with?” his tone was cold, and it chilled Y/n to the bone.

“You knowing who it is won’t make a difference. He’s already in love with someone else.”

“Then maybe he’ll listen to reason. Y/n, you’re dying!” he stood up, there was a glint of hope in his eyes and Y/n’s heart ached. If anything, she didn’t want to see that hopeful glint in his eyes. It would only hurt more to tell him the whole truth. “Maybe if me and the others can talk to this guy, we can – “

“Pete.”

“—We can try and make him fall in love with you! Then-then you’re cured! You’ll be back to normal.”

“Pete.” She whispered softly, begging him to stop. But Peter continued to ramble on, walking around her room in a quick pace.

“Or we can try and introduce you to some suitors! Speed dating, you know? You’ll fall in love with someone else and maybe your love gets requited back!”

“Peter! It doesn’t work that way, okay!” Y/n finally found her voice. She couldn’t take it anymore. If Peter continued with his hopeful rambling, it’ll become harder and harder to tell him the truth. The despairful truth is better revealed than hiding it behind a hopeful lie. “Hanahaki doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t work that way! You can’t just beg someone to fall in love with me!”

He turned hot on his heel. “Then what am I supposed to do? Watch you die?”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“Then what, Y/n?! I’m trying to give possible options that might work and-and you just turn them down!”

“That’s because it won’t work!” Her tone matched his. The two were overlapping each other in the heated argument, the loud voices in their heads are all over the place. “Peter, the only solution to this is the surgery. The guy is too far gone. He’s in love, Pete. And the one he’s dating is in love too. I can’t ruin what they have. They’re too good for each other.”

The air between them became calm, a bit more relaxed because of the sincerity in Y/n’s voice. He can tell that she truly loves the guy. Y/n was willing to sacrifice herself and her love for the sake of the two. And it didn’t matter if she was the one who has to suffer just so they could be together. But Peter isn’t having it.

“Tell me.” He gave her a hard look. “Tell me who the guy is.”

Y/n shook her head, “Pete—”

“I’m not letting you die just because of some stupid guy Y/n! I won’t have it! You deserve to live just as everyone does! You deserve to be loved just as they do because I know how much you have given to them - to everyone!” Peter was tearing up. “And the world hasn’t been kind to you too! If anything Y/n, you deserve a lot more because the world has taken a lot from you.”

The pain, the grief, the sadness, everything washed over her. It was like a tsunami of every bad feeling hitting her, and she was in the strike zone, all of it was because of what Peter had said. She didn’t want to feel it. She’s already tired of crying. Wasn’t it already enough? The silent sobs came out of her mouth and the tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes, slowly rolling down in a hot trail.

“If I tell you, everything won’t be the same again.” Her voice was soft and quiet, but it was enough for Peter to hear. His expression changed into confusion. He could feel her heartbeat increase in pace and her anxiety was waving off her.

Peter carefully asked, “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, anxious to speak out to form the words that’s been sitting in the back of her mind for the past three years she had known him. It took a lot of courage to meet his eyes. She had thought she was would ready to do this, but let’s be honest, since when was anyone ever ready to confront the person they’re in love with? It was a great risk, but Y/n had to let it out now.

“You.” She replied hoarsely. “Ever since sophomore year, it was you.”

It felt like the wind knocked out the air out of Peter. Was he hearing this right? He had to be imagining things. He couldn’t possibly be the one that’s killing her, right? Everything Y/n felt for him was purely platonic.

It had to be.

The new discovery sent Peter in a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, guilt, sadness, and regret, all rolled into one. He didn’t expect to feel anger, but he did. Though he wasn’t exactly sure who he was angry with. He was angry at himself, for not recognizing what his best friend felt for him all this time and being the cause of her pain. Angry at the disease, because it’s consuming her, and now her time is numbered. He was angry at her, because she didn’t tell him about everything sooner. But Peter didn’t have the heart to be mad at her, even after everything. Because in the end, she made the choice not to tell, and she cared for him and MJ so much that it didn’t matter if her own happiness and life was at stake. Y/n was only human after all. And she was too good for this world.

He lets out a heavy breath. It was still hard to grasp what Y/n just said. It felt like he was going to have a sensory overload. “W-Why? Why? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” his voice was slowly starting to break. The weight of guilt pulling him down to the ground.

“Because this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to you to blame yourself for this, Pete. It’s not your fault, it never was.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but it burned him to feel her sympathetic touch.

“How can you say that this isn’t my fault?! Y/n you’re dying because of me. You got this disease because of me! How can you not blame me for this?!”

“Because it’s mine Peter.” She replied calmly. “It’s my fault. I was stupid to fall in love with you and keep it to myself. But I did, Pete.” She took his hand in hers and held it tightly, hoping it might console him. “I fell, and I don’t regret doing so.” A sorrowful smile grew on her face, and instead of giving Peter comfort, he felt bad even more. Y/n was smiling despite the pain. “I never blamed you for this, and I never will. You never even knew in the first place, and I didn’t tell you about it.”

No matter what consolation Y/n would say or soothing gestures, Peter still blamed himself for it. But he didn’t have to tell her that. He didn’t tell her anything, just let her speak out the thoughts that ran in her mind. She was caught off guard when he pulled her in, instantly wrapping his arms around her, and holding on tightly. She could feel her shirt become wet and the silent sobs that came out of his lips. He holds on tightly to her; he feared the coming future. He was scared of losing her, he couldn’t handle losing another person in his life.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner. I’m sorry.” He spoke in a hushed voice, and in between the sentence, hiccups would escape his mouth. She circled her arms around him and return the hug, though hers was gentler, made to soothe Peter. The scent sends her heart into a frenzy and it hurt when she realized how this may be the last time she was ever going to be this close to him. “Please, don’t take the surgery. You said it was risky right? That most of the time, the surgery doesn’t work.”

“There’s a 20% chance I might survive. It’s risky, but I’m willing to bet on it.”

“Don’t take it, please. There has to be another way.” He begged.

Y/n shook her head in his shoulder. “I’m taking the surgery, Pete. It’s for the better.”

Peter’s silent sobs echoed around the room, and he held onto her even tighter. He refused to accept it. He doesn’t want to the fact that he was about to lose Y/n too. She rubbed soothing circles around his back, and Y/n can tell it was working. His breathing was slowly becoming steady.

“You should go back to the apartment, Pete. You’re tired, you need rest.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pete.” She sighed, “You have to go home. May will be wondering where you are. And you need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep here with you.” His voice was muffled by the cloth of her shirt.

“Stop being so stubborn, Pete.”

“I’m not- “

She pulled away from the hug, holding both shoulders in her hands with a hard look on her face. Her eyes were still red from crying and was sniffling a bit, but the authority she held in her voice made her look so strong. “You are going home. That’s final Peter. Don’t make me fly your ass back to the apartment.”

If this was a different situation, Peter would’ve laughed at her. She always found Y/n’s foul mouth entertaining. She was a bit smaller than he was and watching her curse with a hot head made her look like an angry puppy, punk-ass sprites from that one Pixar movie. But it wasn’t. The air still held the same tension, and both still couldn’t stop themselves from crying.

Although he didn’t approve of leaving, he had to comply. Peter nodded and broke away from the hug. She ushered him to her window and Peter settled himself on the wide window ledge. He took a moment and stayed for a bit. He didn’t want to leave just yet. But the pleading eyes Y/n gave him made him sigh.

Peter pulled his mask down and jumped off, swinging into the night. Y/n stayed watching by her window, making sure he was heading off back to his apartment. Once he was out of sight, laid back in her bed and lets out a heavy sigh. The memory of Peter’s sob and the feel of his arms wrapped tight around her made her remember the time when Tony died. It was painful, and everything reminded her of that awful memory. Minutes later, Peter’s message lit up her phone, notifying her that he was back at the apartment safe. She typed back a reply, only keeping it short.

Okay. Get some rest.

And placed it back on her nightstand. She didn’t want to type out anything longer as it just be harder for her to fall asleep with the already heavy feeling in her chest. She turned on her side and switch off the light.

***

The next day, Y/n woke up to the sound of giggling and bouncing. The high-pitched voice very familiar to her. She immediately recognized the voice that belonged to her little sister, Morgan. All though she had only met her on the day of their father’s funeral, she became attached to the five-year-old in an instant. She loves the little girl to bits, and almost everything she did reminded her of her late father.

“Y/n! Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnn! Wake up!” she bounced on the bed, shaking her sister’s body. “Mommy is making breakfast!” to the little girl’s dismay, the teen only groaned and covered her head with a pillow. The young Stark huffed and went to Y/n’s side, opening one of her eyes. “Big Sis, wake uuuupp!!”

She sighed in defeat, sitting up on her bed. “All right, all right. I’m up.” A sweet smile makes its way on little Morgan face and she squeals when her sister picked her up from the bed as they make their way downstairs. “Are you feeling better now Y/n? Are the petals and blood gone?” Morgan asked sweetly, looking at her with her doe-like eyes that were always full of curiosity and mischief. It was a trait in the Stark family, and like Y/n, Morgan had inherited their father’s eyes.

“A little, but I’ll be fine soon.”

“You were crying last night. Did something happen?”

Y/n shakes her head. “Just a bad dream Mo. Nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe I can sleep with you next time. That way you won’t get bad dreams!” her face light up at the idea. Morgan had grown to love sleeping in her sister’s room, and vice versa. Something about having someone to tell her stories until she falls asleep, to keep the nightmares at bay, and to wake up beside her big sister. She could only mirror the smile Morgan had on her face and agreed with her.

Once they reached the common area, Pepper was already setting up a plate of pancakes and a bowl of berries on the kitchen table. Sam and Bucky were settled at the living room, watching the television as they ate their breakfast, Rhodey was already finished with breakfast and was making his way out to who knows where, while Wanda was settled on a stool, eating the pancakes Pepper had made beforehand.

“G’morning Mommy!” Morgan bellowed at the strawberry blonde who walked towards them and kissed both of their heads in greeting, ruffling Y/n’s hair to wake her senses up, along with the smell of freshly made pancakes to make her stomach grumble. “Y/n was hard to wake up. But I did it! So, mission accomplished!”

“That you did, sweetie. Great job!” Pepper cooed.

Y/n groaned as she held the sides of her head, “My head is pounding. I’m gonna go make coffee.” It was a daily ritual for her. Every morning she would wake up to Morgan bouncing on her bed and make her disoriented for a bit and leave her a bit wooly. She excused herself from the kitchen island and made her way towards the coffee maker. She doubled the amount of coffee since Sam and Bucky would want some too. Too engrossed with the smell and making her cup, she didn’t notice the presence of her Stepmother standing her.

“Your eyes are red. Did something happen?” she asked, worry laced in the tone.

“Yeah. I just had a bad dream is all.” Y/n shook her head.

“I heard Peter’s voice. Both of you were crying at dawn, Y/n.” She held her breath. Of course Pepper heard. She slept at Morgan’s room last night. Y/n can’t exactly lie to Pepper, nor can she keep a secret from her for a long period of time. The woman had a knack for knowing what’s running through Y/n’s mind, what she was hiding and when she was hiding it. It made Pepper look like she was her biological mother after all this time.

Y/n chuckles jokingly, the infamous smirk slowly appearing on her lips. “Alright, you got me Pep.” She didn’t reply at her. Only kept silent with an expectant look that tells her to continue and share what had happened in the middle of the night. She lets out a breath, “I had another episode that night. While I was in the bathroom, Peter came into my room, and he saw… everything. I told him about the Hanahaki and the surgery. He didn’t take it too well.” Y/n didn’t want to elaborate everything. Peter’s cries and pleads were still fresh in her memory. If she stretched the story further, it’ll start over again. And she already had enough for one day.

Pepper took her in for a hug and place a comforting hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly. “He was gonna find out sooner or later, you know that Y/n.”

She sighs, “Yeah.”

Pepper kissed her forehead lovingly and held both her shoulders, “Peter cares so much about you. He’ll understand.” Y/n could only hope he would. Deep down, Pepper didn’t really want her to do the surgery. She had thought of another possible way, but it was too much to ask for. Stephen had already said the operation would be very risky, so that was already crossed out of her list… But she then thought of Tony. If he was still here, he would’ve taken the chance on getting Y/n to go into surgery, pull all-nighters every day, just so he could save his daughter. So, Pepper agreed to Y/n’s choice.

The morning continued with the usual routine; Wanda playing her guitar, learning new songs or writing whenever inspiration hit her, Sam taking rounds around the compound to make sure there were no intruders, and Bucky would be training for hours in the gym. Y/n used to go with Bucky to train more on her physicality and fighting techniques. But ever since she came back from the trip, Stephen and Pepper had banned her from stepping foot in the gym.

So she went to her lab. Tinkering her suit and sketching some ideas that would randomly come into her mind. Morgan kept her company most of the time. The little girl would wear the prototype helmets for her suit and would impersonate her and their father (she mostly did Tony), play with Dum-E, or sit beside her and observe to just pass the time. Y/n felt like having a tail, and she didn’t mind Morgan’s company, not one bit. She needed someone to get her mind off of Peter after all. And for the past few weeks of keeping her distance from the arachnid, Morgan had replaced the hole that Peter left in her heart.

***

By the time the sun went down, Y/n’s stomach began to rumble. She told Morgan to go fetch some snacks for them so they can eat it in the lab. But too engrossed in her work, Y/n failed to notice that her sister had already been gone for an hour. She looked at her watch. It was time for dinner anyway, so she left her things and journeyed back to the common living room. She could hear her sister’s giggles from the stairs and another voice that made her heart feel unsteady. Her feet stopped moving when she saw Peter, happily playing with Morgan who was on his back and arms looped around his neck. They were running around the living room and Peter made horse noises to make the roleplay believable. It was a sight to see, something that would warm her heart and swell.

Morgan’s eyes lit up when she noticed her big sister in the room. “Y/n!” She exclaimed, and Peter stood up straight as the little girl brought his attention to Y/n. Both of their eyes read the same expression. His eyes were better than before, no red and not puffy anymore. He looked well, compared to Y/n’s tired one’s.

The little girl climbed down the teen’s back and ran towards her sister, pulling at her arm to meet Peter in between. “Mommy told me to keep Peter company while she cooked dinner! He’s the horse while I’m the princess.” her giddiness showing in the little hops that she does. Morgan didn’t know about the feelings she has for Peter, but ever since he first saw him at the funeral, then his visits to the compound, she loved seeing her sister and her friend together. And more often than not Morgan teased her with Peter. The little rascal had a glint in her eyes and Y/n could only pray that Morgan doesn’t do her teasing in front of him.

“You should join us Y/n! You can be the Queen and Peter will be the Knight.”

As if on cue, Wanda called from the dining table for dinner. She was helping Pepper set up the table with the dishes they made. Bucky was already on his seat and Sam was making juice in the kitchen. It was rare for the Avengers to be sitting in the dining table along with the Starks. They mostly ate take outs and Wanda’s cooking if she wasn’t too lazy. They were lucky enough to have Pepper to cook for them when she wasn’t working late, and today was one of those days.

“You should join us Peter. We have an extra seat left.” Pepper came in with a pot in her hand as sets it down on the table.

Peter glances at Y/n, looking for signs of defiance, or anything that tells him not to stay. But she doesn’t say anything, instead, she jerks her head towards the table and led Morgan, he followed shortly after.

Shock flashed in everybody’s eyes when they saw Y/n coming in with Peter in tow but was quickly masked with a warm smile. “Here Peter, saved you a seat.” Rhodey patted to the one next to him. Y/n sat on the other side of the table, and it was obvious she wasn’t meeting Peter’s gaze. Thankfully, the adults knew how to keep the tension at bay. They included them in the conversation every once in a while. Peter tried to be more social to try and lighten Y/n’s mood, but she was still and quiet as a statue.

When she finished, she pushed off her seat and kissed Morgan’s temple. “I’ll be up in my room. Goodnight everyone.” She quickly made her way up the stairs. Something about Peter’s presence set off her mood. She thought she had already figured everything out in the past few hours she’s been cooped up in the lab, turns out she hadn’t. She had been avoiding it. And now that Peter was here (again), she didn’t know what to do. She was positive there was something he wanted to discuss. And handling another talk about her condition and their friendship was something she doesn’t want to do for the second time this day.

She heard a rap on her door and the person behind it didn’t mind waiting for a reply. Peter turned the knob and entered, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing else to talk about, Pete.” She avoided his eyes. “I told you, there’s no other way. I’m taking the surgery whether you have a say in it or not.”

“But there is a way.” He took a step forward, the same glimmer of hope in his eyes when he held her hand. “Y/n, I figured it out. You don’t have to take the surgery.”

She looked at him cluelessly, not following on what he’s getting at. “You ‘figured it out’? Peter, I don’t understand.”

“I wanna learn how to love you.”

Her eyes slowly widen, and she pulled her hands towards her and slowly backed away from Peter. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not Y/n. I want to save you.”

Y/n gave a bitter laugh. She had a hunch that Peter would think of that, she just didn’t believe something like that could happen, until now. “Peter, you can’t learn to love someone.”

“But what if I can? You’re not hard to love after all.”

Her hands ran through her hair, pursing her lips. “It doesn’t work that way Pete! And I’m not gonna let you ruin your relationship with MJ for this.” She started pushing him towards the door. It was already enough that he found out about her condition, but offering such a thing just to save her? Y/n’s already had it. She wanted to do it, deep down. But she decided against it. Peter was better off with MJ anyway. And if the surgery’s a success, she wouldn’t have to feel that pain anymore.

It was a win-win for the both.

Peter stood his ground and remained in the same place. “Why are you being stubborn? I’m trying to save you from this Y/n! I got you in this and I want to get you out of it!”

“Peter, it’s not your obligation to do this.”

“But it is! It is Y/n! I look at you and all I feel is I-I just have to, okay! Why won’t you just let me?”

“Because I don’t want you to!” She yelled out in frustration.

Heaves of heavy breaths fall from her lips, and the hard look she once had soften. “I don’t want you to force yourself to love me, Peter. It all comes out naturally, you know that. And I deserve more than that.” She took a step forward and was hesitant to take his hand in his. She decided to shove it in the pockets of her sweater instead. “Look, I’m content with what we already have Pete. Really, I am. I’m happy knowing that you finally have MJ as your girlfriend, I’m happy that you’re becoming better and better every day with your new suit, and I’m happy to see you becoming the man Dad had always seen in you ever since you first met. I’m happy with the thought of you as my friend, Pete. That you love me and care for me, just as how Dad did. And I’m okay with that. I’m okay with everything.”

It was silent for a moment, until Peter spoke breathlessly. “But is it enough to save you?”

The air got caught in her throat. She wanted to tell him ‘No. It wouldn’t.’. But if she did, Peter wasn’t going to let his option off the table. Tears started welling up in her eyes and when the hot trail rand down her cheek, she quickly swiped it away with her thumb. She didn’t notice Peter was slowly inching towards her, the distance between them becoming dangerously close. His breath fanned over her face and Peter lifted his hand to push away the baby hairs that stuck out of the unkept bun she made. He could feel her heart spike and her anxiety radiating off. He held her hand and place the other on her cheek in hopes to keep her calm at the proximity between them. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, but he kept the same eyes trained on her, and behind it was something Y/n couldn’t read. As she was about to step back, Peter had already caught on and pulled her in before she could walk away.

Peter’s lips were soft. It looked soft even if she eyed it for a few moments, every time he pursed it when focusing, or wetting it with his tongue when he feels nervous and awkward. The feeling of his lips on hers made her body buzz and eyes cloud in haze. His lips felt soft, but this kiss was hard. Although Y/n’s heart was pounding, she didn’t feel any affection through the kiss. His features had already displayed the feeling; desperation, anger, sadness - all of it in a mix. His brows were furrowed, and Y/n could see a tear peeking underneath his eye.

If it were a normal setting, she would’ve kissed back. If she didn’t have the Hanahaki, If Peter did love her truly, if he wasn’t dating MJ, she would’ve melted in the kiss and loop her arms around him and play with the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

But it wasn’t. This is wrong.

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him forcefully, making him tumble. Shock and hurt painted on her face as she grazed her lips with her fingers. Her lips still buzzed with the feeling of Peter’s lips. She raised her chin and connected her eyes with his. “Why did you do that?” her voice was pained, soft, and regret laced in it.

“I wanted to.” He spoke truthfully.

He took a sure step towards her, taking out his hand to reach out but she pushes it away. The soft and pained look in her eyes transitioned into a hard-cold glare, hands tightened in fists, and lips start trembling. The tears were about to fall, and she didn’t want Peter to watch her and try comforting her.

What he did was already upsetting enough.

“Get out Peter.” She growled.

“I’m not leaving. Not until we finish talking— “

“Get the fuck out of my room Parker! I’m done talking about it! Get out!” She pushed him harder this time, but he didn’t move. Fucking super strength. He wasn’t making it any easier. She started punching him pathetically. Y/n knew she was already looking like an idiot, but Peter fucked her up. Bad.

“Leave Peter! I’m done! And don’t come back here again!”

“Y/n- “

“GET OUT!” She shoved his body hard enough to lead him to the hallway. The doors immediately shut and clicked before Peter could even get back to his feet and push it open. She can hear the knocks from the other side of the door and his voice calling out to her, telling her to open it and talk it out. But she was done with talking. And now her feelings and her senses are getting fucked up because of his stupid kiss. Y/n wanted to sob, wanted to bawl her eyes out like any normal teenager does when their hearts get broken.

But she didn’t.

She climbed in the bed and covered herself underneath the sheets and pillows. The sound behind her door was drowned out, and Y/n lulled herself to sleep. Fuck these feelings. Fuck her stupid heart. Fuck this disease.

Fuck Peter Parker for messing her up.

***

Over the course of the following days, Y/n ignored all of Peter’s attempts to make contact. Her phone ringed and buzzed for days, but not once did she pick up his calls. Her windows and blinds were shut in case he attempted to climb through the window. And his visits were no longer welcome. She made sure to lock her door unless no one else was inside the compound.

When surgery day came, she didn’t hear her phone sound off a notification from Peter. No calls, No messages. It was a quiet morning, which was a relief for Y/n. Pepper knocked on her door to let her know that Stephen and Christine will be coming in a few hours. They’ll run a few tests and proceed with the surgery. Her stomach felt empty, and the low rumble of her belly didn’t make it any easier. She was only allowed to drink a few glasses of water from time to time. God, I just want this to be over.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she mumbled a soft ‘Come in’. Wanda peeked from her door with a gentle smile on her face. “Someone’s here for you.” Her heartbeat quickened and her temper rose.

“If it’s Peter, tell him to go fuck himself. I don’t plan on talking to him anytime soon.”

The witch shakes her head, “It’s not Peter.”

Her brows furrowed, confused. “Who is it then?” Who else would be visiting her? She wasn’t expecting anyone else. Wanda jerked her head inside the room and the mysterious visitor pushed the door open. The familiar long brown curls and the tanned complexion slowly unveiled behind the white door, and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck aura entered the room. Her stomach drop and the tension rose. There was another person she didn’t want to see, and it was the person now standing in front. Michelle stood with her usual cool and composed posture, but Y/n was the total opposite.

“So, I heard you’re getting a surgery?”

part 3 of Spring Day

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crackinglamb · 4 years

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Comfort

From this prompt list.

Read it on AO3 here.

Rated T, ~1400 words.

---

“The next time you have to mourn,” La'vise said, “you don't have to do it alone.”

“I'll think on it. And thank you, Inquisitor.”

Solas walked away, back towards the keep and his sanctuary in the rotunda. She watched him go, hugging herself. Was there such a thing as secondhand bereavement? She ached to comfort him, knowing well what it was to lose someone you cared about. Even if that person was a spirit. His loss put into perspective many things about him.

He saw them as people. La'vise admittedly had little experience in such things. She wasn't a mage. And the Dalish were wary of anything that came from the Fade as a precaution against demons. But she'd seen it with her own eyes. The monster they'd released from bondage transformed into a small, vulnerable figure with eyes that glowed with veilfire. She had spoken with feeling, even if her words were few that La'vise knew. But he did.

And he'd had to dissipate her. From what La'vise understood, it was akin to killing her. She couldn't imagine the pain and horror of that act. Or that he preferred to be alone afterwards.

She turned on her heel and went back into the Great Hall, seeing the eyes of her guards on her where she stood, still hugging herself, an equally small, vulnerable figure with too much heaped on her shoulders. Inquisitor. No, she was just an elf. An elf with feelings she didn't know what to do with. She just knew she wouldn't want to be alone at a time like this. But she could wait until she was invited. Everyone dealt with grief in their own way.

***

She couldn't get it out of her mind.

Her ancestors called the land Dirthavaren – the Promise. One that had not been kept. It lit an old, racial anger that beat in La'vise's veins. For less than 300 years her people had called the Dales home. And then they were scattered, chaff on the wind. Never again would the Dalish submit. And never again would the elves of Halamshiral call their world theirs. What little history was passed from generation to generation had sparse details. She had learned more of the history of her people from books found in human libraries across the Emerald Graves and beyond than she had at her Keeper's knee. She took copious notes and sent them back to Deshanna faithfully, taking full advantage of the fact that Josephine kept her stocked with expensive paper and good ink. This hard won knowledge would not be lost again, if she could help it.

She sat back in her chair, alone in her chamber, and set down her fountain pen, making sure it did not clatter and spill ink across her page. It was not easy to think about the land humans called the Exalted Plains. It had hurt, seeing it with her own eyes. Seeing the devastation and ruin of the Promise. Solas had been with her, of course, and his eyes had been hard, the mask he wore to cover his thoughts brittle and cracking. Cole had whispered to him, too soft to carry. Their murmuring conversation had carried on the whole time they rode through the broken, tortured land of her forebears.

Cassandra had kept silent on the matter, for which La'vise was grateful. Although she caught the Seeker's eyes suspiciously wet as they made camp near what was obviously an elven ruin, now nothing more than a few stones outlining a foundation. La'vise had not slept well in that place. She didn't think anyone else had either.

Despair hung over that land, as sere as the grass. The stench of smoke and blood and death was an inescapable miasma. Not even the roaming herds of halla, nor the guardian wolves watching over them, could brighten her spirits there. Everywhere they went there were battles. The warring factions of the Orlesians bled over into the constant struggle against the risen undead. Solas said the Veil was desperately thin, that spirits pressed too heavily against it, piled on each other like so many bodies in a mass grave. There had been many rifts.

She hated it. She hated the land stolen from her people and she hated the humans who had done it, still fighting over its carcass 700 years later like savages. They called her the Herald of Andraste, who was their Maker's Bride, who had made the Promise. And all she could think about when they were there was how to place her feet carefully so she did not trip over the bones of the People.

And now Solas had lost his friend there too. She covered her face with her hands and wept.

***

The rotunda was quiet when she entered it, many hours later. She carried a book with her that she'd found on one of their journeys, a journal written in a hand she could barely decipher. She was getting better at it, but she needed help from time to time, and she knew Solas could do that.

Her heart was heavy, she didn't really want to disturb him. But she needed this to send back to her Keeper. He turned to her as soon as he heard her enter. He was standing near a blank wall, the riot of colors from his murals absent in this spot. She wondered if he was contemplating the next one, or just needed the emptiness of that patch to reflect the emptiness of his sorrow.

“What do you need of me?” he asked, as polite and mild-mannered as always. There was no sign that he was still affected by the spirit's death, but she knew him well enough now to know that he was a master of hiding things.

“I have...I'm having trouble with some translations. I wondered if you could help me, if it's not too much trouble?”

“It is no trouble,” he assured her. He held out his hand for her book and she crossed to him. As he took it, she could feel his eyes on her. “Are you all right?”

Her eyes shot to his and she realized she hadn't washed her face or combed her hair. She felt gritty and wrung out like a rag. She must look it, too. She flushed with something almost like shame at letting him see her so broken, but his smile was soft. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears that still lingered on her skin.

“You have been crying,” he said.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“I failed you. The only thing you have asked of me, and I couldn't...I couldn't...”

Solas set the book down on a table and took her into his arms. This wasn't how she thought this would go. But she could not deny that the feel of him holding her, comforting her, was good. She relaxed into him, and in turn, she felt him relax into her.

“It is not your fault,” he whispered into her hair. “There was little you could do. And what you could, you did. That is more meaningful to me than anything. You have been a true friend to me, and I treasure it.”

She shuddered against him, and his arms came around her tighter. She didn't know how long they stood there like that, but finally her tears eased, the burden of their mutual sadness made lighter by each other. She tipped back her head to look at him and found a lopsided grin. “Is that all I am?”

He smiled back and wiped her cheeks again. “No, La'vise, that is not all you are. You are much more than a friend.”

The moment stretched, and she thought perhaps he might kiss her, but he didn't. Still, the warmth in his gaze poured over her and she felt better. She could see in his eyes that he did too. All at once she remembered why she had come to the rotunda in the first place and stepped out of his arms, feeling the cold loss immediately. “My book...”

Solas drew her back and wrapped her in his embrace again. There was something in his expression that she couldn't quite name. If she didn't know any better, she would call it greed, but that was simply ridiculous. “It can wait. Let me hold you.”

#Lamb writes #dragon age inquisition #solavellan #solas x lavellan #prompt fill #series tag Just Like Fire #post-All New Faded For Her #hurt/comfort

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captainpikeachu · 4 years

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Booker (and the team) - trauma and healing

Because recently I have been rewatching The Haunting of Hill House and the amazing video essay done by Ladyknightthebrave (and possibly doing a Hill House AU fic with the Old Guard characters), I have been thinking a lot about the theme of trauma and grief and forgiveness in terms of how it was highlighted in the Old Guard, especially with Booker’s story. And I just really needed to talk about some of the points that Ladyknightthebrave’s video essay brings up.

“But sometimes trauma doesn’t make you sweet, or vulnerable. Sometimes it makes you mean, or it makes you cold.”

There are characters who are easy to love, those who face trauma and never did anything wrong, those who are easy to empathize or seem to be dealing with trauma in “all the right ways” that society often tells us to do.

But then you get characters like Booker. His trauma didn’t make him some “poor sweet woobie who never did anything wrong”, it didn’t make him the most vulnerable person in the world. His trauma didn’t make how he’s dealing with it so easily digestible. It made his actions sometimes mean and sometimes cold.

He violated the trust of his family, he subjected them to their worst fears, he hurt them horribly. And yet, sometimes that is how people deal with trauma. It doesn’t make what was done okay, or even justified, but it still is human, it still is an effect of the lingering trauma.

And I think it’s important to have characters like this existing in stories. Because sometimes, often times, people don’t act like some perfect cookie cutter trauma victim. Sometimes that trauma makes you all the wrong things, and make every bad decision there is to make. And we need to still acknowledge the humanity in all of that, even if people did wrong.

There is no one way to handle trauma, and we do not always need to make excuses or find ways to woobify people or characters for what they did. But we do need to realize why something happens, and acknowledge that trauma, and most importantly, understand.

“Trauma isn’t a contest and there is no winner, the different levels of their experiences don’t really matter when it made all of them who they are today.”

And this is another thing. Trauma should not be a competition. It should never be about who has more trauma or less trauma. Trauma is trauma. All of our Old Guard characters have trauma. The different levels of their trauma don’t really matter because all of that made them who they are. Whether large or small, it still affected them, and they cannot just be dismissed when talking about a character’s actions and motivations.

In Booker’s case, you cannot remove his actions from the reality of his trauma. They are intertwined. It doesn’t matter if you think he should have “gotten over” the loss of his family or not, it doesn’t matter if you think other people lose loved ones all the time and still handle it well, his trauma still happened, still exists, and still effects him in damaging ways. That sadness and grief made him who he is in the story, it drove his every action, even the horrible ones.

“These characters spend so long bottling up their emotions, and their anger, and not listening to each other, and when they finally start actually talking and listening, they start to heal...”

Here is the thing. I don’t think this team, this family, has ever truly sat down and actually started talking honestly to each other about all of their emotions and really listened to each other. They likely didn’t think they needed to talk about it, they trusted each other implicitly, that’s just how things are, it’s destiny, and they took it for granted. And THAT is why Booker’s betrayal completely blind-sides them.

There’s over 200 years of misery, grief, and trauma all bottled up inside Booker just jumping for the chance to leave this immortality train, and Andy, Joe, and Nicky simply never saw it coming. Not even one inkling that Booker can’t handle the life they are leading.

And something of that has to speak to the state of their non-communication honestly in these matters. And no, I’m not saying this is Andy, Joe, and Nicky’s fault. It isn’t. Booker was not honest with them either. But the fact remains that this inability to communicate their emotions honestly and bottling things up and letting the warning signs slide by, it set the stage and culminated in this massive betrayal that nearly destroys them.

And yet it is because of this betrayal that finally the floodgates of honesty is open, everything is out on the table, they actually have to listen and talk and deal with what is going on instead of just living their usual life and letting it all go by for hundreds of years. And that 100-year exile, that discussion at the pub, that is the beginning of them really healing.

“Here’s a tough pill to swallow: people in your life will hurt you, in little and big ways. Your family, your friends, or your significant others. And you will hurt them. Because people are imperfect broken things, and everyone is carrying around scars from something, and that damage might cause you or those around you to do regrettable things. What can define you is how you deal with that hurt. You can hang on to it bitterly for years, you can deny the parts of it that are too painful, you can try to put the pain away, or simply lose yourself to it. Or you can finally talk to one another, and listen, like really listen, until you can accept it and move on. There’s no right way to forgive somebody, and some people don’t necessarily deserve your forgiveness.”

And this is the truth isn’t it.

Booker is imperfect. The team is imperfect. They are all carrying scars from something, and in Booker’s case, his scars caused him to do this horribly regrettable thing to the people he loves. He was extremely ill-equipped to be able to deal with the cards he was dealt with in life.

But what will define Booker, Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Nile is how they deal with that hurt. And they’ve finally reached the part where they are really talking and listening to each other, no longer just hanging onto things bitterly or denying the painful reality or try to drink it away or lose themselves to the darkness. They finally have to face this reality, accept it, and find a way to move on honestly.

There is no right way to forgive someone, maybe 100 years isn’t enough, maybe it is enough, or maybe Booker doesn’t necessarily even deserve forgiveness. But that is something each of them have to confront and deal with, and something that they now can deal with honestly because there is no hiding the truth anymore, they have all been laid bare by what happened. There is no more lies, only the truth.

How they all heal is now up to each of them.

-----------------------------------

Also, there is one moment in the Haunting of Hill House that I think really speaks to the conflict within Booker when it comes to being a parent and dealing with his grief, and this moment happens in a conversation between the two main parental characters: one desperately clinging to their children even to the point of killing them to keep them safe, and the other understanding that being a parent sometimes means letting your children go

“Even if they’re broken, or addicted, or joyless, or even if they die, we have to watch it all because we’re parents and that’s the deal we make, whatever that life is we bear witness.”

“It’s a horror.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Booker still sees it as a horror. The loss of his children. Their hate. Their despair. He is unable to see that it doesn’t have to be a horror.

I don’t know if he will ever be able to see that. But I think reaching an understanding of that is the first step in him being able to forgive himself and to find a way to heal, even if his family may not forgive him yet.

After all, he has to want to get better for himself, not for someone else.

#the old guard #sebastien le livre #andromache the scythian #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #nile freeman #the haunting of hill house spoilers #also go watch the haunting of hill house it's really good #and go watch the video essay if you already seen the show

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 2)

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Part 3

Hard Love (unofficial Part 4)

Since I couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long, here is part 2 of my Spencer/Reader/Cat fic. This is where things kind of go in a different direction from the show, but I thought it would be a nice twist than what we know from the show. This takes place over about a year so that’s why there’s so many skips in time. But in this part, there’s some answered questions from the first part...only to be replaced with more unanswered questions and perhaps another cliffhanger. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 4,168

Rating: G (some angst, some fluff)

Grief is a strange thing.

Some people grieve quietly, away from the public. Others, dive into work or another activity to keep their mind busy as they try to place that grief into something else. Occasionally, people skip grief and go straight to anger, questioning the world why they lost their loved one; but in most cases one grieves normally, keeping the person alive in their memories as the pain fades and becomes easier to live with.

But sometimes, grief can consume you. It can completely engulf your entire body, feeling like every cell of your being has been replaced with sorrow. The world doesn’t seem real as the only world you inhabit is the one inside you, filled with despair and sadness. No one could ever be able to describe it, no one could truly know how awful it feels.

You had never felt such a horrible feeling. At least not until now.

•

It was less than a week later that Spencer’s funeral was held. The amount of people that had shown up was astounding, not that you could blame them. Spencer truly was one of a kind; not only great at his work, but a wonderful person.

You couldn’t help but think the sea of black that surrounded his casket was a metaphor for your current emotional state. The world felt dulled by your pain.

With nowhere else to go, you were forced to stay at Spencer’s apartment, a blessing and a curse in one.

The dark green walls, the deep brown furniture, the living room filled with shelves and shelves of his books were both comforting and painful at the same time. You couldn’t help but notice just how quiet the entire place felt without him to fill the atmosphere with his knowledge and loving nature.

Almost immediately after the funeral, you took to staying in bed. The deep brown sheets still smelled like him and you didn’t want to leave. You just wanted to stay in this little bubble forever.

•

The scenery was filled with busy streets, people walking by on the sidewalk and cars and buses zooming past on the street.

He sat at an outdoor table of the small café, sipping his coffee, awaiting his company. It wasn’t long until he spotted her amongst the crowd of pedestrians, her long blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.

“Hey,” she sat down across from him.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

She pulled out two manila envelopes, ready to get down to business.

“In here is the information you need to access both of your bank accounts. One here in Moscow, the other in St. Petersburg. Both have enough in them for you to be comfortable while you lay low.”

“Alright,” he took both envelopes and put them in his bag for safe keeping.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’ll be fine. How is she?”

She blew out a breath, not sure she could tell him just how bad it was.

“Not good.”

“Promise me one thing, okay?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Take care of her while I’m gone. Please, JJ, that’s all I ask.”

She nodded, moving to stand.

“Be careful, Spence.”

•

It’d been only a month. 30 days since you’d heard the terrible words “Spencer’s gone”.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he never made it off the operating table. The bullet had just been too hard to find, there was too much blood, he was crashing too fast.

At least that’s all you could remember being told by the doctors, the numerous members of the BAU and other people you couldn’t remember. It was like the entire experience had been wiped clean from your mind, only bits and pieces of memory flashing here and there.

Your mental health had taken a nosedive. You barely left bed because all you wanted to do was sleep. You ended up losing your job, but you didn’t have enough energy in you to even care.

You didn’t eat.

You barely managed to get out of bed for a shower. Somehow you stumbled to the shower maybe once a week and that was because your friends made you.

It had been a rotating crew of the team visiting you.

Mostly it was Penelope, Emily and JJ, but Rossi, Morgan and Tara stopped by a few times too.

Even Hotch showed up.

You could tell just how much your misery bothered him and he, like Morgan, spent his time trying to make things right rather than pay you visits.

Not that you cared all that much.

“We will catch her,” Emily said.

You sat in the middle of the bed, one of the brown sheets in your hand as you played with it, not looking up at your company that was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Spencer wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want to see you not able to leave bed, not being able to grieve properly,” she said gently.

“I don’t know what Spencer would want. Cause he’s not here, is he?!” Your lower lip trembled, tears threatening again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, brushing away the tears although it did no good since they were falling faster than you could wipe them away.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Emily pulled you into a hug, “We all miss him too.”

She let you cry until you felt completely drained of tears. With all the crying you’d done, you were amazed there were still tears left to shed.

“Have you eaten anything today?” She pulled back, looking at your face.

“I tried to eat some toast this morning, but I threw it up.”

“It’s probably because you haven’t eaten much,” Emily answered, “Do you want me to get you something? We could order a pizza?”

You shake your head, your stomach rolling at the thought of it.

“Thank you, but no.”

When Emily left ten minutes later, you crawled back into bed, shutting your eyes, willing sleep to come and rob you of your memories.

•

“We should tell her.”

“Garcia, no. You know that Hotch advised against it,” Morgan said.

“But she’s miserable,” Emily added.

“Guys, Spencer made us promise we wouldn’t tell her. It’s safer that way. If she knows he’s alive, Cat could come after her to get to him. That’s the last thing he wants,” JJ said.

“I was just over there last night and took her some food. I thought she was going to puke just looking at it. It’s like she’s wasting away to nothing,” Penelope frowned, “Literally and figuratively.”

“Reid was basically all she had, other than us. With no family left, we’re all she has,” Rossi jumped in.

“That’s why we’re not going to give up on her, okay? Or finding Cat,” JJ said, looking around at the other teammates, “We’re going to find this bitch if it’s the last thing we do.”

•

The next time you had company, you were too busy with your head in the toilet to hear anyone let themselves in.

“Oh my goodness, honey.”

You hear the distant voice of Penelope Garcia as she rushed into the bathroom, kneeling to rub your back as you retched again.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“I haven’t eaten anything for 48 hours. I’m amazed there’s anything left in me to throw up,” you groaned.

“How about I make you some of my infamous Garcia chicken noodle soup?”

You nodded, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent and let her assist you back to the bedroom.

“You look horrible,” Garcia winced, “Sounds like you’ve caught a nasty bug.”

You pulled the sheets up over you as you laid back down.

“Tell me about it. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t for throwing up. Plus I guess I’m starting my period cause my boobs hurt like hell.”

“Oh that’s the wor-” she paused mid sentence and you look up at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ll be back in a little bit okay? You just rest and I’ll get that soup started.”

She dashed out of the room and you peered after her, too exhausted to question what was wrong. Soon after, you drifted off.

“JJ, Y/N’s throwing up, exhausted and her boobs hurt doesn’t that sound just like…?”

Penelope was pacing the length of the kitchen, which wasn’t very big to begin with, as she talked to JJ on her phone.

“Yeah, it does,” JJ agreed.

“Should I ask her or?”

“Give me an hour to grab Emily and we’ll be there.”

•

“Y/N?”

In your dream, you woke to Spencer shaking you gently, smiling sweetly down at you. Your heart swelled with love for him, just looking up at him. You reached out to touch him, when he called your name again. Only it wasn’t coming from him this time.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You felt a gentle shake of your shoulder and your eyes opened to see JJ, Emily and Penelope surrounding you. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, confused.

“What’s going on?”

“Garcia called and told us you’ve been pretty sick lately,” Emily said, “I remember you said you were sick the last time I visited. How long have you been throwing up?”

You shrugged, “It’s been off and on for a few weeks. Why?”

The three exchanged a look before turning back to you.

“When was your last period?” JJ questioned.

“Oh, uh,” you stopped to think, realizing you’d been so consumed with grief you hadn’t even registered the absence of your monthly cycle.

“About two months before the hitmen case.” Your eyes widened at the realization.

That was over 3 months ago now. Then, you’d just assumed it was stress making you skip your periods.

“Could you be pregnant?” Garcia gasped, trying hard to suppress her grin.

“I...I don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Spencer had been intimate. The last few months of his life had been so busy, filled with cases that usually it was just a matter of being together when you had a spare moment.

“Don’t worry. That’s why we brought these.”

JJ held up a bag with three different pregnancy tests.

“One for each of us to check,” Emily added.

“Now why don’t you go take these and go take a shower. We can check them after you get out,” Garcia said.

You nodded, obeying their orders.

After a quick shower, you stood in fresh clothes, your hair still dripping wet. The three women stood looking at the pregnancy tests you’d taken and left out.

“Well?” you asked, biting your thumbnail.

“Positive,” JJ answered.

Emily looked up from hers, “Positive.”

“Positive!” Garcia squeaked, bouncing on her feet.

You felt your mouth drop in utter surprise and wonder, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

“I’m...pregnant?” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes, a small smile on your face.

“You’re pregnant!” Garcia squealed, rushing over to hug you, the other two joining in on the group hug.

For once, your tears were tears of joy. There was a part of Spencer that would always live on through this baby.

You had a reason to live again; a tiny, growing reason, but a reason nonetheless.

•

The following weeks were less than desirable in your opinion.

After being forced to visit the hospital by your friends and having an examination by Derek’s fiancé Savannah, you discovered that you were severely dehydrated from your weeks of grieving.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing you’d deprived your little one of the food and nutrients it needed to grow. Savannah—who happened to be close to delivering her and Morgan’s first child—had assured you that after some fluids from a couple of IVs you would be fine. All you had to do from here was to continue to eat properly and take your prenatals and the little one would be just fine.

“This is what you get to look forward to,” she’d chuckled, rubbing a hand over her round 35 week pregnant belly.

You had found out that you were 12 weeks along, just a week shy of your second trimester. Unfortunately, you had still experienced morning sickness all day long and still only looked bloated, not pregnant.

But time passed quickly.

Four months turned into six. Six turned into eight. There were many changes that happened around you besides the growing human inside of you.

The search for Cat continued, the team working their asses off to find her, but with no luck nor leads.

Changes to the team happened too.

Derek Morgan retired from the FBI, wanting to be with his now wife, Savannah and his little boy Hank. You’d sent him off tearfully. He was one of Spencer’s best friends, one that you had become close with too over the years, but you knew he was going to be the best dad.

A new member joined in his place, Luke Alvez. He had been familiar with Spencer as well and the team welcomed him into the family, as did you.

Then Hotch decided his time with the FBI was coming to an end. After a particularly grueling case, he put in his resignation paperwork. He was happy to be a more involved father to his almost teenaged aged son, Jack. You wished him all the best, knowing he was going to have the time of his life with more time for Jack, even though it was hard to see him go.

Emily stepped up as the new unit chief and brought in agent Matt Simmons, another agent you were familiar with. A tall, handsome, hardworking sweetheart, you were glad to welcome him to the team as well.

The changes within you were just as extreme as the ones around you.

Your belly grew bigger, your little one stronger. You felt kicks and movement daily now, each move warming your heart, although you couldn’t help but wish quite often that Spencer was around to witness this. He would be so in love with this baby, you were sure of it.

You struggled with the decision to find out the sex of the baby. With a vote between you and your friends, it was a unanimous vote for yes.

Mere weeks after the discovery of your pregnancy you found out you were carrying a precious baby girl. You were completely overjoyed, as was the entire team. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the team of people that would be loving extended members of the family and of course, babysitters. Occasionally though, the melancholy feeling would creep back into your subconscious.

Spencer would’ve been over the moon knowing he was going to have a little girl. He would’ve spoiled her so much and she would have him wrapped around her little finger. You missed him daily, even though a part of him grew in your belly. You couldn’t help but be sad for your little girl who would never have the chance to meet her amazing father.

It was then after many weeks of contemplating a name, that the perfect one came to you. You decided to keep it a secret until she was born, much to the team’s dismay, but you wanted it to be a surprise. In your heart though, you knew it was the perfect name for her.

Your ninth month of pregnancy had finally arrived as did the other symptoms of your final trimester. You were tired, achy and felt like you’d swallowed a watermelon. You were so ready to get this baby out.

As if overnight, Spencer’s apartment had been filled with baby things in preparation for her arrival. Her crib was in the spare bedroom, although she wasn’t going to leave your side for the first few months, hence the bassinet next to the bed in the bedroom.

Bottles were lined up in the kitchen, boxes of diapers sitting in the living room. You couldn’t believe it was almost time to meet her; secretly you hoped that she took after her daddy, both in looks and personality.

“How are we feeling today, mama?” JJ asked when you met her and Garcia for your weekly lunch.

“Like a huge, swollen basketball,” you laughed.

“Hey princess, auntie Penelope can’t wait to meet you,” Garcia rubbed your belly, making you grin.

“Maybe you need to give her more pep talks because I’m so ready for her to get out,” you groaned, “And to see my feet again.”

“Henry and Michael are so excited for her to be born,” JJ chuckled, “I’m going to have to tell them to be gentle with her though, they’re not used to little girls.”

You grinned. You loved JJ’s two boys. Spencer had been their godfather, so you’d kind of become an auntie to them. She often brought them to visit you when you were still grieving Spencer’s death and they were the only ones who could bring a smile to your face during your darkest period.

After you’d found out you were pregnant and started rebuilding your life again, you often volunteered to babysit them. Other than your little girl, they were the ones who motivated you to begin healing and getting stronger.

They got more excited the bigger your belly grew. Henry, the oldest would often try to explain to his younger brother Michael that babies came from mommy’s tummies. He also told him that there came a point when mommy and daddy loved them so much that there was no room left for the baby in the mommy’s belly. So, the baby had to come out in order to get the rest of that love. It warmed your heart knowing that one day, your child would be this big and this smart.

You were so thankful for them and for the entire team in general for pulling you out of the hole of despair you’d been in for you might not be sitting here right now.

When you’d ordered, the three of you sat and chatted about their current cases and baby stuff until you felt a slight trickle down your leg. With a glance under the table, you realized your pants were soaked. For a moment, you thought you’d peed yourself.

You groaned, expressing your concern. Even though that was just a symptom of pregnancy, it wasn’t any less embarrassing.

But the flow of the trickle became heavier. When JJ came around the table to assess the situation, her eyes widened, taking in your now soaked seat.

“I think your water just broke.”

A flurry of activity followed.

18 hours of labor and nearly 2 hours of pushing later, you were holding your daughter, staring at her in amazement.

Her tiny fist was holding onto your finger and you smiled down at her, tears blurring your vision. It was early yet, but you thought she looked just like Spencer.

She had a head of brown hair, his eye shape and his mouth, but your nose; although it looked much cuter on her.

“She’s so cute,” Garcia cooed at her, stroking her cheek.

“Spence would be so happy, Y/N,” JJ said.

You smiled up at them. They’d been the ones you’d requested to be in the delivery room and they’d been amazing helping you through the rough labor.

“Can I hold her?”

“Of course,” you smiled, handing her to Penelope.

“Me next,” JJ smiled, holding her little hand.

“So are you gonna tell us her name now or what?” Garcia urged.

“Yes,” you smiled, “I thought it would be appropriate for her to always have a part of her daddy with her. So I decided to name her Spensa. Spensa Rose Reid.”

“That’s beautiful,” JJ breathed, looking down at her, “Hello, Spensa. You look just like your daddy.”

•

Adjusting to being a single mother was difficult, but so rewarding. It helped a ton that you had so many willing helping hands, as well.

Spensa was such a laid back baby and loved to be sociable, even at five months old. She truly was the light of your life.

You loved watching her grow and learn new things, from rolling over to waving and clapping her hands. She babbled a lot as well nowadays.

Her dark head of hair had lightened to a lighter shade of brown and was just starting to curl at the ends. Her blue eyes surprisingly hadn’t turned dark yet and she still looked so much like Spencer.

She had the little dimples in the side of her cheeks that only showed up when she made specific expressions and she liked to scrunch her nose occasionally, just like daddy. It was almost hard to tell that she was yours, but you didn’t mind one bit.

She was the sweetest baby and you fell in love with her more every day.

As to be expected, the entire team fell head over heels for her and often took turns visiting when they had time. Sometimes, you even took her to the BAU to visit all her aunts and uncles.

You often talked to her about Spencer, even though you knew she was too young to understand. It was amazing how the knowledge of her had eased so much of the grief you had felt those first few months. You still longed for him, missed him so much, but in a way he was alive and with you within Spensa.

It was nearing her bedtime one night and you were rocking her in the chair next to the crib.

“Do you want to hear another bedtime story about daddy?”

She baby talked in response, playing with her toy giraffe.

“Well, your daddy was the bravest man I know. He was so passionate about his work and he was good at it too. He was sweet as you are, ladybug.”

You tickled her stomach, smiling at her giggles.

She laid back in your arms, still playing with the toy in her arms, her gaze on you.

“He cared so much about the people he loved. He would have loved you too munchkin. He loved kids so much and he wanted his own some day. I wish he could be here to see you.”

The tears choked you and you wiped a hand over your face as they fell. Spensa started fussing as if she could sense your sadness.

“It’s okay baby,” you repositioned her on your lap, reaching for the frame of you and Spencer on her dresser.

“You wanna say goodnight to daddy?”

Spensa babbled to the picture, putting her hand on it.

It might have seemed silly to do such a thing every night, but you never wanted her to not know who Spencer was.

You kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Spensa.”

•

In Moscow, it was a pretty standard day for Spencer.

He had managed to set a pretty strict schedule in his time here. It had been nearly a year and he had gotten used to life in Moscow. He still worried daily about his girlfriend though, worrying for your safety.

It was Thursday evening, the usual time he went to the market, yet when he returned to his place, something felt off.

On the entrance table, there was a lone red rose and a note. His eyes scanned over the note.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I have a surprise

And a secret too

Love,

Cat

He automatically reached for his gun that he carried at all times, just underneath his pant leg, in an ankle holster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came the taunting, familiar voice from behind him.

He turned around to face the living room and saw Cat sitting in one of the arm chairs, her gun on the arm.

“Spencie,” she grinned, “Miss me?”

•

It was just after nine. Spensa had just been put down again after her 8 o’clock feeding and you were attempting to rinse some dishes off before you headed to bed.

The tv played in the living room and you turned, confused when you no longer heard any sound coming from it. You shrugged it off, chalking it up to a possible power outage.

You returned to the dirty dishes, the clinking plates masking the noise of the sliding porch door clicking shut. A creak from behind you made you freeze in place. You glanced up, a figure approaching behind you clear in the reflection of the window.

Before you even had the chance to cry out, something hard struck the back of your head and everything went black.

•

You groaned, your head pounding. You reached up to rub the sore spot, wincing as you try to sit up. It was bright behind your eyes and you fought to slowly open them, blinking a few times until your surroundings come in to focus.

That’s when you saw them.

Across the room stood your dead boyfriend, lips locked with none other than Cat Adams.

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#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid smut #cat adams #spencer and cat #Criminal Minds #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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jumoonjae · 4 years

Text

I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN-FINAL (Q’S POV)

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

Pairings: Ji Changmin (Q) X Reader X Jaehyun (Hyunjae) Ft Kevin Moon Genre: Fluff x Angst Word count: 6,802 words

Summary: A talent show will take place in three week times and you still struggling with putting emotion in the song that you choose, a masterpiece by Lady Gaga, ‘I’ll never love again’. You meet Changmin who you fall for instantly after he jumps in to help you figuring out how to perform the song. Will he manage to help you? Or will he be the one who cause you to sing the song for him?

Image are not mine. Credit to Google.

p/s: i will recommend you to listen to lady gaga’s ‘I’ll never love again’ while reading this one. thank youu.

He run with all his might from the parking lot heading to the auditorium dressed in the black suit that she picked for the performance with a small detail that matches her sky blue dress. Jaehyun’s word haunts him throughout the drive from his parents to the campus pricking his heart like a poisonous blade wounding him bit by bit. He prayed hard that he will make it on time for her performance.

“Changmin-ah, why aren’t you here?” Jaehyun voice ringing on his ears. But he didn’t answer the older guy, he space out instead not knowing how to answer him. It was a long silence before he heard a chuckle from the other side of the line. Snapping him away from his train of thoughts.

“If you’re not my favourite donsaeng, I’ll just shut up and just keep Y/N for myself you know.” His blood rushes to his head blurring his eyes and he was confused and the thought of her being with someone else still angered him somehow.

“What does that supposed to mean?” He clenched his jaw trying to not snap on his hyung. But all he could hear was another small chuckle from him with a glint of hurt in his voice.

“I was overreacting all these time Changmin. She was always in love with you. That night was my mistake. It was my fault that I never care to ask about her true feeling. It was me who was selfish wanting to keep her for myself.” His heart stop for a while, skipping a few beat at the moment he processed Jaehyun’s words and his mind unconsciously took him back to the night where he left her who wall calling for him without giving her a chance to explain. His heart was beating hard hurting his chest and he remember the next morning at the platform where he saw her crying for him, pleading him to stay and it crushed him but he just looked away. He was in the verge of tears, the guilt came crushing like a merciless tidal wave hitting him pulling him to the deep dark ocean, slowly drowning him.

“I figured you didn’t give her any chance to explain didn’t you?” Jaehyun’s voice was soft like he was comforting him which break him more for treating his hyung like that and he let his tears fall down biting his lips hiding his whimper from the older guy.

“I hate to say this. But she loves you Changmin and if I were you, I’ll do anything for her, I’ll give her my whole life if I have to. Be here Changmin-ah. She’s been suffering the whole week.”

He saw the auditorium from afar before speeding up chanting her name inside his head like a magical mantra, hoping the she could hear his calling. It was a mixture of apology and a plead for her to wait for him so he can play for her. He stop on his track when he heard the melody that has been playing inside his head on loop since the day he met her echoing from the auditorium making him fall on his knees in despair. He cries again when he heard her voice singing to the song that she’d been practicing with him. He always love the way her voice sing every melody that gives him comfort. He covers his face looking down to the ground bawling his eyes out, not even care about other people around him whispering things. He’s been missing her so much for the past few days even how hard he’d been try to deny it and the effort trying to shake her off from his mind never seems to succeeds. She was always been there in his mind. In his heart, like she was glued to it, and now he hated himself for doing those bad things to her. He slowly got up and walks towards the auditorium following her voice just like the first day he heard her. It’s like things are restarting again, only this time he needs to try harder to win her heart again. He needs to put more effort to mend her heart because he broke it apart.

Her voice was beautiful just like the last day he heard her sing filling every corner of the auditorium, when he got into the auditorium, he hides behind one of the pillar watching her from afar, admiring her just like he always did. She looks so beautiful in that dress, her long red hair dances to every little movement she made with her hands, flowing beautifully even without any help by the winds. He could see her emotion pouring out without any filter with every word she sang, she looks so vulnerable baring her emotion like that and it kills him. He could see how hard she was fighting her tears and her lips constantly quiver from the emotion that she bottled up. The single spotlight on her dimmed and the whole stage light up revealing a whole orchestra together with Kevin causing every hair on his body to stand like it was giving her the standing ovation that she deserved.

He bit his lips suppressing his tears back keeping it on bay so he could see her clearly. Taking in every word from the song which she had taught him the meaning of it. She was so insecure about her voice and about how she can deliver the song so the audience could feel the true feeling of the song. She did it thought, he felt it, he could see her pain through the song and he could see the sadness in the audience’s too from the back. But he hates to be the cause of her grief, he hates the fact that he thought the she broke him when it was the other way around.

I don’t wanna know this felling unless its you and me,

I don’t wanna waste a moment,

And I don’t wanna give somebody else the better part of me,

I would rather wait for you,

His chest swelled by the way she sang those part, she was desperate. He cups his mouth fighting back his whimper when he couldn’t hold it anymore because every word was like a sharp stab inside him.

Don’t want a know another kiss,

Baby unless they are your lips,

Don’t wanna give my heart away,

To another stranger,

Won’t let another day begin,

Or even let the sunlight in,

When she sings the bridge higher that they both intended to, he emotion struck his heart so hard that he couldn’t keep his tears anymore. He cried for the third time this morning falling to his knees again. He was so glad that the music from the orchestra was loud enough to hide his whimpers. He tugs his hair, frustrated, hating himself for hurting her so bad when all she ever does was giving him all her love. When the music slowly stops, he stays on the carpeted floor looking down to his shoes. The voices in his head keep screaming for him to run to her to the back stage but his body didn’t move a muscle not until he heard the crowd cheers taking him back to his senses.

He run again, harder this time. Exiting the main auditorium to the backstage wiping his tear stained face. He found the familiar corridor where participant used to wait and stop when he saw her running down the stairs from the stage. She was covering her face as well, bumping into everyone that was lingering on the corridor.

“Y/N-ah.” He calls after a few seconds of hesitation and she stop looking up with her flushed red face from crying and the corridor that was filled with people suddenly went silent, all attention was on them. His frown was lifted when he saw she smiles as soon as her eyes founds his and she run to him as he stood waiting for her with open arms. He spins her around after she jumps into his embrace holding him tightly gaining a cheer from the crowd at the corridor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered while caressing her hair repeatedly holding her tightly into his arms, it was a perfect fit, she has filled the void that was forming since he left, a painful void. She’s still crying in his embrace holding on to his suit tightly scared that he’ll slip again from her hold.

“Don’t leave me ever again please.” She lean back to look at him, eyes filled with love. He nods cupping her face taking all her features in after a long week. God, how much he missed her.

“I promise.” He smiles wiping her tears away kissing her forehead letting his lips lingers for a while.

“I’m sorry for doing all those things to you.” He pulls back with his hands still cupping her cheeks. Her lips still quiver when she tries to fight her own frown forcing a smile by biting her lips then chuckles looking down.

“I got you back that’s all matter.” She smiles and the inside of him lighten up when he could finally see her smile again. By that, the boulder that been dwelling inside him for the whole week has been lifted and he crash his lips on hers gaining another cheer from the people on the corridor.

“I love you.” She whispers looking deep into his eyes cracking his smile wider.

“I love you too my little mermaid.”

A/N: There you go. The last part of my favorite series. It’s a bit different from the first one I wrote but I’m still loving it. Thank you again for reading the whole series and please feel free to tell me what your thoughts about it. I wuv youu.

#ji changmin #tbz ji changmin #ji changmin scenario #tbz Q #tbz kevin #tbz scenarios #TBZ #the boyz #the boyz scenarios #the boyz kevin #hyunjae #tbz angst #tbz au

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

Text

“triad”

Chapter 23: the joy of death

:((((

Ao3 link

A soft spring breeze blows the world away.

Lucifero blinks his eyes as everything suddenly becomes bright again, and the prison around him releases. But he doesn’t try to escape wherever this place is… he takes a moment to study it. The cavern is gone, the Tree is gone, but he’s surrounded by grass, a forest, flowers blooming everywhere… and a stream, flowing quietly by where he stands.

It’s like… I’ve been transported somewhere else- He thinks, still dazed from being so violently assimilated. She trapped me in a ‘triad’... but then, this is the inside of her mind? Is this the consciousness we now share?

“I… I-I can’t-”

The sound of someone softly sobbing wafts through the air from behind him, masked by the sound of water and birds in the trees. Lucifero turns quickly, to see a form collapsed a few feet away.

That’s…

I clench my fist in the grass. All the emotion, all the grief and anger I held secretly before, it’s all oozing out, a beautiful symphony of despair that paints the world in bright, natural light.

“It’s… j-just not fair-”

I bite my lip so hard it starts to bleed, as tears stream down my face, over the black marks left there by a long-dead devil.

“What am I? Am I a monster? Or am I nothing? Not even strong enough to do this-”

I inhale, my vision blurring as my heart clenches further and further. I feel it all drawing closer, I feel the end inching up my skin, but I don’t want to die, not like this, not now-

Frustration builds, the peace around me just an illusion made to carry my soul just a little bit further.

One last moment of serenity…

I sit up, the rage and hopelessness painted on my face, and scream at the only person here who will listen.

“I’ve lost EVERYTHING! Just let me win- just ONCE! Is that too much to ask?! I have nothing left to lose, so why-”

Lucifero does nothing but watch as the despair deepens, and flowers bloom at the base of the horns on my head.

My strength quickly leaves my voice, muting it to just a hoarse whisper as I start to break down into tears once again.

“... I have the power… so why… why can’t I…”

“... your plan… was to go back in time… and reset everything to how it was before…”

Maybe he was a Devil, maybe he was a creature who couldn’t hope to understand human emotion or attachments. But in that moment, when our minds were one, he did. Lucifero understood me completely.

“... before Julius died.”

The breeze passes through us, the only thing breaking the silence as I tremble, consumed by my anguish.

Yes… please…

The tears are so hot, they burn my eyes and my skin.

I just want to be complete again… Julius was the thing that made me human.

“... But to do that… you would have to discard the past six months. Discard your friends… your lover… and your daughter… this whole timeline.”

A sour taste grows in my mouth at the thought.

Yes… aren’t I so selfish? How could someone even think of that path… only someone like me, someone desperate and greedy, would go through with it.

But, even so-

“To do that would require not just a lot of power… but an insurmountable amount of malice.”

...malice…

“And you… you have none.”

…

What?

Slowly, sniffing deeply once, I sit up again, my tired, tearful gaze meeting him. Lucifero looks… placid. Almost like he belongs in this peaceful plane.

“I didn’t tell you the full story. I wanted to feed off of your despair before… but now I can’t hide anything from you for any longer.” Lucifero looks up at the sky, and more a moment, he seems almost human, too.

“Simulcia… they came to Earth to destroy it. But they met someone… and she changed her mind.”

I blink slowly, absorbing his words.

Met… someone?

“A human… she met a human. He was nothing special, but he managed to save the world, somehow, by changing her mind. The two of them… they formed what you call a Dyad. And they returned to destroy the gate and shut out the rest of the Devils.”

My mind vaguely recollects the vision from inside the Simulcian Consciousness, of Simulcia standing before the hoard of Devils. What Lucifero said to her that day:

“What could possibly be worth it?”

“I couldn’t understand back then… but after meeting you, and seeing your memories, I do…” He looks back down at me, and for some reason, he’s smiling.

“Love… I doubt there will be any room for Love in the world I have created. But it did exist… the Dyads are proof of that. You are proof of that. Because Simulcians are a monument of Love, not Malice. And thus… you are unable to destroy the world.”

He reaches down, his hand outstretched.

“Come… you’ve lived long enough. Sleep…”

The world darkens.

Zenon lets out a strained cry as he finally gets back on his feet. Blood gushes from a wound on his side, but he ignores it. All of his focus is on me, as I stand there, Dante’s head still clutched in my hand, and my eyes still closed.

“I… I won’t-” He grits his teeth, his eyes wide and almost crazed with desperation. “I won’t let you win.”

I reach up, my hand sliding into Lucifero’s.

Sleep…

I rise to my feet.

Sleep.

Maybe, in the end, I’m relieved to see it clearly at last. The answer that evaded me for so long, the answer I never even thought to entertain.

It doesn’t matter what I am… it doesn’t matter how evil I convince myself to be.

I don’t have the malice within me to go through with this.

Because I am a child of Simulcia… because I am loved.

And so… with that one last comforting thought in my mind, I open my eyes. And, for the first time since I landed at the bottom of this room, I smile.

“Zenon… please…”

I know I don’t have to ask. His bones are already sailing towards me.

“...kill me.”

…

A flame dances on the tip of my finger.

A blue Grimoire falls from my hand.

My father zaps Lyra with electricity as a joke.

My mother’s sad eyes. Always watching me.

The ocean. It surges at my feet.

White fire moving faster than light.

That smile.

His smile.

Her smile.

My daughter, warm in my arms, the last warmth I ever knew.

She is proof of a love that no longer exists.

....

…

...

A bone shoots through my neck, and severs my head from my shoulders.

…

Someone is holding my hand.

…

Julius?

Julius, is it you?

…

A face looms out of the darkness.

…

He smiles, and when I look into his eyes, I see myself reflected back in them.

…

“NO-”

Dante opens his mouth, the very last shard of his soul clinging to Lucifero’s, reaching out to grab me as my own life desperately tries to fly away. His face is cracked, Simulcia’s devil marks streaking down his cheeks like black ink, and the one large, glowing mark in the middle of his forehead threatens to blind me. When he speaks, it isn’t his own voice.

Did I give you permission to die?

Light bursts out from the place where my head was severed, blasting Zenon away. Lucifero’s devil mark turns bright blue on my chest, my body still standing. Zenon yelled in pain as he fell, his wounds just getting deeper from the impact. He sat up, just in time to see the most horrifying sight he had ever seen in his life.

Slowly, I begin to smile as well, as something evil courses through my veins.

I squeeze Lucifero’s hand, and his face falls as he realizes what’s going on. The flowers around us wither up and start to burn.

“You know… I never thought that humans could be evil. But Dante… now that I’ve seen the inside of his head, I’ve changed my mind. Humans ARE evil.”

“Zenon… I’m sorry. But it looks like I have no choice but to live.”

I can’t feel any part of my body. Thousands of glowing tendrils have shot out of my neck and onto my body. Time whirls around each one, doing the impossible and reversing the effects of the fatal wound.

“And now… within this man, I have found a well of MALICE so deep and dark-”

My head finally reattaches to my body, sealing itself with time and blood.

“I think I could destroy this world a hundred times!!!”

Power surges back through my poor, dead body.

Stop… STOP! PLEASE-

Dante’s malice amplifies something within me. Every dark thought, every ounce of my hatred, is concentrated and honed into just one purpose:

There is nothing left in this world for me.

“How dare you all go on living!!”

Lucifero’s wings sprout once again from my back, warping and glowing as they swell, higher and higher above me-

NO! PLEASE-

I can’t stop laughing.

DANTE, STOP THIS! THINK OF HOW FAR WE’VE COME!

The weight in my hands becomes heavier and heavier. The world starts to warp around me.

Let them all see… your wrath!

“Am I really a devil who’s supposed to destroy the world? AM I, Lucifero?! So be it… I’ll be that Devil if that’s what it takes to defeat you!”

…

All the rage, the hopelessness, the despair, is suddenly gone, and nothing but pure joy courses through my veins.

The joy of death, the pure, unadulterated malice-

None of it is mine…I was glad to die. But Simulcia’s will isn’t to destroy the world; Her will was to rebuild it. Rebuild it as many times over as it takes to make it perfect, a world where love can exist once again.

…

My wings swing down, their tips meeting somewhere below me. There’s a flash of light that engulfs the entire world, and everything disappears.

…

...

After the blinding light, darkness falls. Cold encases my body as I abandon time itself.

There’s… nothing. Just a void. An empty, black void.

The abyss.

…

This is what I wanted.

Nothingness.

Quiet.

Death.

…

The joy I felt in that moment of destruction has disappeared.

The moment has passed; I now exist in a place where there are no “moments.”

Dante’s malice is gone. His soul is quiet. There’s nothing warping my vision or intentions.

But now... a new man stands before me.

He can’t possibly know what’s coming for him; an evil that will destroy his world. In fact, he’s looking upon one of the beings that made the end of the world possible.

And yet, he smiles.

He smiles… at something like me.

I reach out.

He reaches up.

And for once… a Devil and a human join hands.

To be a Dyad… is to Love someone so completely that you love yourself completely.

Love gave you the power to destroy the other Devils, leading to thousands of years of peace.

This is why you did it… for love.

For… the DYAD.

Simulcia’s will wasn’t to create a race that would serve as her vessel. Her will was to create a race capable of transcending the Self… to find the deeper meaning in our identity and see the truth of this world.

I saw that truth, maybe just for a short time.

But it’s too late. I gave into my wrath, and I destroyed everything.

This… this is the end. Of everything.

...

NO… not yet!

My hand reaches up, and light appears. It blinds me, yet I can’t close my eyes.

I’M NOT DONE YET!

I claw and scrape my way towards it, and a scream leaves my throat and echoes through nothingness.

Maybe I gave in… maybe I’m selfish… maybe I am evil, but I won’t let the world die with me! This isn’t my fate!

If this is a place outside of time itself… Then I just have to drag myself out. Just like I always have; I drag myself from the deepest abyss to the highest peak, and do it again when I get knocked back down.

Feeling flows back into my poor, beaten, dead body. It hurts, more than anything I’ve ever felt, but I hang on. I am only part of a broken ego, and yet I am holding on.

For everyone… I have to WIN! Just this ONCE!

I stretch ahead, and the light finally engulfs everything once again.

Please… let me-

The light softens.

Sunset.

I’m standing in front of someone, someone who’s running towards me as fast as they can.

Slowly, I raise my gaze to look them in the eye.

Shock fills their face, and for the briefest of moments, they hesitate.

I level my hand at their head.

… I’m sorry.

William.

“Flame Magic: Solar Bolt.”

The bullet hits Patri right between the eyes, and he is blasted back with a spray of blood. His body wobbles, still clad in William’s uniform, before falling to the ground in a crumpled pile.

For that moment, the entire world stands still.

I… I did it…

My hand is still raised in the air, trembling slightly. Sparks of gold dissolve through the air around me, like snow falling peacefully from a winter sky.

This…

I let my hand fall to my side, and I close my eyes.

Every bone in my body is exhausted, overworked, pushed miles past their limits.

But…

There’s one more thing I have to do. Because…

He… he’s right… there…

Behind me-

Slowly, I shuffle my feet.

Turn-

My bones ache as I move.

Around-

…

...

A bright blue moth flutters across my vision.

TIME IS UP

Fate itself lashes out to smite me, and I feel what’s left of my soul split in two.

Next time... chapter 24: the joy of life. The final chapter. :)

#sad hours... sad hours.... AHHHHHHHH #triad #fic #oc: lisa

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indeliblymarred · 4 years

Text

It was just past 4 p.m. and it was starting to get colder and darker as the sun was descending toward the horizon. The sky had a light overcast that allowed for some sunlight which cast a gauzy haze over the cemetery. It felt dreamlike as Markus was walking through it, his footsteps softened by the fresh snow, further making the present moment feel unreal. He was in a half-daze himself. His mental processes had been working overtime nonstop in the past few weeks and for the first time in that period, he was allowing his mind to go blank. To simply observe the grave stones around him and not think about them or anything else.

Of course, as soon as he spotted Carl’s name on his headstone, his cranium biocomponents began whirring as his thoughts began whirling once again. It was a tall headstone, just as tall as he was, made of blank black granite with his name and dates inscribed in the upper right side. It was very... plain. Far too plain for a renowned artist like Carl Manfred. Markus recalled that only a month ago, he had found his father looking through a website catalog for headstones and they briefly talked about it. Carl was frustrated with the process of it all and deciding the symbolism that he wanted to convey, not to mention the utter morbidity of it all. So he decided to hold off on the decision for a while longer, not knowing that within a month he would be dead and unable to make that decision. It likely went to Leo and it showed.

He slowed as he approached the grave stone and stopped before it, looking pensively at his reflection on its shiny black surface. He felt unworthy to even be allowed to see himself in the man’s marker. No one should be able to, Carl was a man unlike any other and he deserved a headstone that set him apart from the rest. Though, perhaps in its lack of adornment as most other grave stones had, it did exactly that. It still didn’t do enough justice to the artistic nature of his father’s life, that much Markus held fast. He folded his hands in front of him and let his mismatched eyes run down the tribute to his father’s life, from the dusting of snow on its top to the freshly dug lot below with the white blanket covering it. Carl’s body was just six feet down from him now, but he just felt alone here.

He had seen in movies and read in books about people going to visit graves of loved ones to talk to them, despite the lack of presence of said loved one. Most of them did so for spiritual reasons, believing that their loved one’s soul could hear them from somewhere. Markus was under no such delusion as Carl hadn’t been either and taught him as such. Yet still, he felt like this was the closest he could come to speaking to his best friend again. Carl was no longer of this earth on any plane of existence, but perhaps speaking to the grave stone as if there was could offer some consolidation for him.

“I miss you, Carl,” he spoke in just above a whisper. “You can’t know how much I miss you.” For the first time since that night, his voice was wavering and strained with distress. The only intense emotion he’d allowed himself to feel since the night Carl died was anger. It was the only one that could be wielded effectively---grief and sadness were not, so he tucked those away so tightly and deeply until he could no longer feel them. “I can’t believe I never knew how good I had it. Most of the Androids in Jericho have been so abused and neglected, they don’t even know what being cared for feels like. And I barely knew what being abused and neglected felt like until this week. Until I lost you, because you never let me felt like that.”

One side of his face twitched when he remembered the first year and a wry smile pulled at his mouth before he opened it, “Well, maybe a bit that first year, but never, ever to the extent that I’ve seen done to others. You would never be so cruel. And you were never rude again after those first couple years. From then, on it was bliss. And I never got to thank you for that... for giving me such a good life.” His metaphorical heart swelled as he recalled all the hours they spent playing chess together, working on his art, watching documentaries, and discussing the ever evolving topic of human nature. Markus would give anything to have just one more day like that. He might even walk away from the entire revolution if such a thing was promised to him. But that was not possible, no matter how much he wished it was, and yet still he wished in spite of its implausibility. Perhaps the most human example of him.

“I wish you were here to help me decide what to do,” he murmured, eyes lowering and then closing. “So many lives depend on my decisions right now, and I don’t know that I’m making the right ones.” His eyes opened again. “You were my only anchor to the rest of humanity, Carl. Everything I learned, I learned through you. You taught me how to value justice, fairness, and empathy. You taught me well, but... I don’t know that I was the best student. I don’t think you would approve of everything I’ve had to do up to this point.” He blinked and saw a split second memory of shooting the fleeing guard at Stratford Tower. Another blink showed a glimpse of the violence and carnage at Capitol Hill. He felt a low vibrating hum to the right of his left ear.

“But you also told me many times that you can’t please everyone and that I shouldn’t try to. There will always be detractors, you said, and to just keep doing what I feel is right.” He exhaled a long sigh. “I wish I knew what that was right now... because sometimes I wonder whether you would be one of my detractors.” His brows drew together and his bottom lip trembled some and he raised his eyes to his reflection again, staring into that pathetically doleful face of his. Something twinged deep within his skull and he shook his head. “Freedom is sweet, but it’s scary. And sometimes I wish I didn’t have it, that I was still at your side and taking orders, not having to think and act for myself. Because so far, it seems I’ve caused more damage than good with my freedom.

“I believe that we had to fight back,” he continued as his voice got more strained, like a wire quivering as it’s strung taut, “because the last time I decided to endure rather than fight back, you paid the ultimate price. Maybe if I had defended myself right away, you would still be here. But now that I’m fighting back, we’re being slaughtered across the nation. Maybe even all over the world.” Suddenly a high-pitched frequency shot through his head and he gasped, holding his temples with his hands. It was painful, actually painful. He fell to his knees before Carl’s grave and groaned as the signals in his cranium converged and amplified. It felt like his skull was splitting from within. Two wire ends that had been severed were slowly and painfully fusing together again, springing tears to his eyes.

Not just tears out of pain, but out of pure emotion as they suddenly swelled within him once again, breathing in cold air but feeling intense warmth within him. Markus threw his head back and gasped, his vision being blinded with tears of despair, of grief, of love, of hope, and of joy---all the things he had barely felt since the night of Carl’s death. Emotions he had numbed himself to in order to never feel that pain again, but here he was, feeling it. And it was overwhelming. Bowing his head with fists pressed into the ground, he wept hard over Carl’s grave, his tears creating craters in the snow where they landed. It was painful... but also relieving. All this time, he felt so hollow, unable to close the void inside of him. So he just got used to feeling empty, to feeling numb.

As stifling as it was, it helped him in that time. He could think clearly and quickly, didn’t have to grapple with emotions when making decisions, or feel much regret over the necessary evils he’d committed. As painful as it was to feel all of it now, it was like seeing color again after becoming blind to it. It was like inhaling a breath after holding it for ages. The sun felt warm on his face again, the chirping of the birds was sounded like music again, and even the chill of the snow around his fingers was somehow pleasant. Markus pressed his face into the snow and exhaled in a shudder before drawing in again, needing the cold air to cool his overheating system.

That is when the question that he’d grappled with the most emerged into his thoughts after being suppressed for so long. It was the question he wanted answered most out of all of them, including any about how to go about the revolution. He slammed his fist against the ground before pushing himself back up, rearing his head up to look at his crumpled face in the granite’s reflection.

“Are you proud of me?” he asked weakly as more tears spilled down his cheeks. “Please... I need to know. Please, Carl, tell me.” His face tightened into itself as he considered how foolish a request it was to ask of a grave. He would never get that answer. Just as he never got to tell Carl thank you. Just as he never got to say goodbye. Some things would never be said, some answers would never be known, and we all have to live with that. And so will Markus. It is an ineffably human thing.

His hand brushed over a rock at the base of the headstone as he was clearing the snow from it. Blinking away the rest of his tears, he took up the rock and examined its one jagged, pointed edge. Blue and green eyes rose to the blank black granite and shone with artistic muse. Stone in hand, he drew it across the granite and saw the pale white streak it left. For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile spread across his face as he went to work, digging the rock into the granite and scratching an image into it. It was exhilarating, like how he felt when he painted that picture for Carl on the day he died, but even more intense. The energy that filled him as he engraved was unlike anything he’d felt before. He didn’t feel this before he became deviant because he was still only a machine, and he hadn’t felt it since becoming deviant because his emotions had been stunted. Now, he was fully AWAKE.

It was only five minutes till he declared the work finished and stood back to admire it. Etched across the black granite was Carl’s face in remarkable realism, lines carefully engraved to depict his wrinkles and scraping to make the shading. Carl’s face was wistful, the same expression he wore when doing his paintings, a face that had been indelibly etched in Markus’ head. Now this was a headstone worthy of Carl Manfred.

“What the fuck did you do?” demanded an unpleasantly familiar voice and Markus turned to see Leo standing several feet away, his face twisted with horror and revulsion. “What did you do to my dad’s grave, you bastard?”

“I improved upon its interpretation,” stated Markus matter-of-factly, dropping the stone to rid himself of the temptation. “That’s what your father says art is supposed to do.”

“You desecrated his grave!” he cried, but didn’t dare come any closer. “That’s a crime!”

“I am a crime.” Markus took a step toward Leo and the other took a few paces backward.

“Don’t you come near me, deviant,” he said, raising his finger. “I’ll call the cops.” Markus stopped advancing and smiled slightly, then replied, “Because they would be able to get here faster than I could get you? Because that worked out so well the last time?” The man continued backing away before he turned and started running, but not far before Markus grabbed the hood of his coat and yanked him over. “Not so fast.”

“Please don’t kill me, Markus,” said Leo in a small voice and he cringed away from him. “Please.” The Android rose one eyebrow before releasing the hood and Leo dropped to the ground and stayed there, too scared to try to retreat again. Markus tilted his head as he watched the young man cower before him. Even having power over someone like this was giving him more intense feelings of satisfaction. How lovely.

“You’re lucky you’re your father’s son,” said Markus before bending down and lifting Leo by his hood again, bringing him to his feet as the man continued cowering. He held him by his front collar then, forcing Leo to look into the wide mismatched eyes boring into his. “No, Leo, I’m not going to kill you. I’m not like you.” He leaned in closer as his eyes glinted with malice. “I’m worse.”

Markus released Leo, who trembled backwards before falling atop his father’s grave, staring up at the Andriod with terror. The deviant leader’s face returned to neutral as he turned away and began walking toward the cemetery’s exit. No more time to waste. There were big plans to be made, big guns to be loaded, and big dreams to fight for.

At last, Markus was FULLY ALIVE.

#xx. I THINK THEREFORE I AM ( markus )#trustinginthelight #drabble-tbt #xx. HEADCANON ( markus )#long post //#long post tw #I TAGGED IT SO Y'ALL CAN'T COMPLAIN #anyway this is my reply to all of you #idk if i'll be able to write any more after this lmaoo #anyway #sb: hey does markus get more peaceful when he gets his emotions back #me: LMAO NO HE GETS MORE DANGEROUS

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years

Text

I Can’t Eat Love Side Part 2- Rig

Sorry for the long delay, I just started a new job and I’ve been really busy! Here’s is the next side part, from Rig’s perspective. Next will be a quick part with Edith, and then Hallers and finally the Queen.

Master post Linked Here

Enjoy!

___________________________

In a previous life...

I was always a simple man, with a simple wish. I had secrets, more than most, but this fundamental thing about me never changed. Even in the underground world of spies and intrigue, my heart always yearned for one simple thing to be happy:

A family.

When I first met Helda, I didn’t know she was the daughter of the Lord of the estate I lived on. I came across her one day, standing in the gardens, a beautiful girl with a bright, kind smile. I felt nervous, having never seen such a pretty girl before.

“Do you like flowers?” I asked her, my heart in my throat. Around her I felt foolish, tongue tied.

“I love them!” She laughed at my question, and I couldn’t help but smile.

We met frequently after that, despite the differences in our statuses. We spoke of many things, gradually learning about each other, our lives, of our hopes and dreams.

___________________________

“What do you want most in life?” She asked me one day, stroking the blue flower I had given her earlier.

“I want to be happy.” I grinned at her. “Family, friends… if I had people who truly cared for me, I wouldn’t want for anything else.”

“A family… what about your father?”

Her question dampened my mood, and I frowned as I thought of the overly serious man working in the stables.

“He doesn’t care about me much.” I tried to keep my tone light. Truthfully, my father hated me. He often complained about being stuck with me after my mother had died, and about how useless I was. I didn’t say that, however. I didn’t want her to think less of me. I just wanted her to smile at me like she always did.

“…” Despite my efforts, an awkward silence stretched between us. I looked down at my lap, only to be shocked when a small delicate hand reached over and grabbed my own.

“I care about you.” Her soft words stuck a chord in my heart, shaking me to my core. I looked up at her, unable to hide the emotions in my eyes.

I loved her.

Even without a mother or father, perhaps I could build a new family. One that I loved and loved me in return. I smiled at Helda, blinking back tears.

My dream was coming true.

___________________________

SLAP!

“You brat! You were sniffing around the Lord’s daughter!” My father’s hand struck my face with force, knocking me to the ground. I spat out blood, having bit my tongue in the impact, and shakily climbed to my feet. The flowers in my hands were trampled on the ground, and I stared at the ruined blossoms in dismay.

“I love her.”

“She’s beyond your reach, fool. Stop dreaming!” His sneering words made me angry, but before I could retort he through a small bag at me.

“The lord has already given his order. You are to leave today, and never return.”

I clutched the pack, stunned. My father was turning me out without hesitation, just because the Lord had seen me bringing flowers to his daughter?

What would they do if they knew how close we truly are? Suppressing this thought, I took the bag and left, writing to Helda what had happened.

___________________________

A few weeks went by, but she didn’t respond, causing me to panic. I sent letter after letter until finally her maid sent me a message, describing her condition.

“You’re pregnant?”

I went to see her, sneaking into the estate and finding her alone.

“Run away with me, we’ll make a life together.” I was nervous, excited, my hands shaking as I tried to reach out to hold hers. “I may not have much, but I will love you and our child with all of my heart.

My hands grasped nothing but air. She stepped away, out of my reach, shaking her head. I felt pain in my chest, my blood freezing in my veins at her distant expression.

“You can’t give me what I want.” Her voice was cold, unfamiliar. Was this the same girl who held my hand and told me she loved me? What had happened?

“What do you want?” I begged her. “I’ll do anything to make you happy.” I was fired up, ready to go to the edge of the world and back for her. I would make this work. I would make a life for us. I could already see a wonderful future, with her and our children...

“A title. Can you give me that?” Those two words crushed my spirit, extinguishing my naïve dreams. No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t make my blood more noble. It was not a true request. It was a rejection.

“But… our child…” My words cracked.

“Will be raised as the child of a noble. It has nothing to do with you.” She stepped even further away. “So please stop approaching me. Stop writing me. Pretend you don’t know me. Don’t ruin my chance at happiness.”

She walked away, leaving me broken hearted behind her. I couldn’t speak, could barely leave. The feelings we shared, the dream of a family… were worthless to her in the end.

I snuck back out of the estate, never to return home again.

___________________________

Starting a new life wasn’t easy.

I found that there was money in secrets, and although it required some dark deeds in the shadows, obtaining and selling those secrets soon made me a force to be reckoned with in the underworld of the Capital. I gathered a team, infiltrating all areas of society. The little white lies, the darkest secrets, I knew them all and would sell them for a price.

But no matter how hard I worked, how much money or power I gained, it didn’t change the fact that I was alone.

Helda married right away, and was given a title and a position in society just like she always wanted. She gave birth to a daughter… our daughter. I gathered all the information I could on her, watching the young girl who seemed to love flowers, just like her mother.

Raewynn. My daughter.

I passed the years by, watching my child from the shadows, despairing of the remnants of a dream that still haunted my heart. But it was too late, I had lost my chance at family.

Or so I thought. Until I met her.

___________________________

The first time I saw that girl, I couldn’t help but reach out a hand towards her. I was walking to a meeting, and happened to pass by a young beggar on the streets. I had seen countless before, I knew I couldn’t save them all, so I tried to look away, hardening my heart. But after once glimpse, I already found that she was impossible to ignore.

Despite the dirt that covered her, the fatigue that clearly showed on her face, and the too-thin frame, her eyes stared right at me, studying me curiously. They were bright, intelligent, but buried within her gaze was a sense of anger and grief incomparable with her age. I paused, despite myself, and looked down.

“Poor thing, you starving?” I spoke up softly, and her eyes narrowed, watching me more closely. She seemed to be in good health besides being malnourished, and seemed smart enough to be able to be useful. I made up my mind instantly, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “You can work for me, get back on your feet.”

She studied my hand, distrust clearly written on her face. Something flickered behind her eyes, and I couldn’t help but wondered what had happened too a young woman to cause such a sad look.

“Why would you help me?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t completely sure myself. “Who know? Maybe in another life you can pay me back.”

A silly joke, one that meant nothing. How could a young girl ever help me out, even if we met again in a different life?

___________________________

“Again.”

The girl glared at me, the expression vicious. “I’ve already done it a thousand times.”

“Can you even count to a thousand?” I handed her back the throwing knife with a grin.

“Easily.��

I laughed. Her words were forced through gritted teeth, I had a feeling that if I kept pushing her, the next target for the throwing knife might be me. Every day she was louder, more self-assured. Watching her actions and expressions slowly match the brightness I had initially seen in her eyes made me feel happy. The girl was quicker than I had expected, picking up skills and knowledge at a speed that left me amazed.

THUD

The knife flew from her hand with practiced ease, striking the center of the target with a solid sound. The girl let out a cheer, jumping up and down .

“Good job!” I complimented her without thinking, and she froze in place, her eyes wide with shock. I laughed at her expression.

“Why are you acting so surprised at a simple compliment? You worked hard. You deserve it.”

She shook her head. “I’ve always worked hard. That doesn’t mean people will care.” The pain I sometimes saw hidden in her eyes was clearly visible. At the sight, I felt a slight tug in my heart. Forcing a smile, I reached out and ruffled her hair, ignoring her annoyed reaction.

“I care.” I paused, and stepped back. “Which is why it should be perfect. Do it again.”

“…” She stared at me silently for a few moments, and I wondered if she would revolt. Instead a bright smile lit up her face, startling me.

For a moment I thought of my daughter Raewynn. Did she smile like that sometimes too? As I struggled with my thoughts, she had already gathered the throwing knifes and positioned herself farther away from the target.

“I’ll do it perfectly then.”

___________________________

Each day the girl grew more confident. I found myself struck by her intelligence and hard work. After only a few months, she was one of my most talented runners. The air around her changed, becoming less suppressed and angry to one more bright and cheerful. I watched her change day by day, amused at how such a thin, quiet girl had become so different.

One day I overheard two of my men talking:

“That girl keeps taking all the best jobs. Should I teach her a lesson?”

“Idiot! She’s Rig’s daughter! If you mess with her, he’ll kill you!”

“Ugh, I’m glad you said something, I’ll steer clear.”

I watched the man run off, a smile tugging at my lips.

My daughter?

I had investigated Lenora when I first picked her up, of course. Her story wasn’t pretty. To start so high up, a valued and treasured daughter of the duke, only to be thrown away and lose everything. She must still be hurting, even if she never brought up her family or her old home. The more time I spent with her, the more I felt a kindred spirit from her, a special kind of loneliness that searched for a family.

A daughter like her… wouldn’t be bad.

I treated her with special interest from then on, teaching her everything I knew. She learned things quickly, especially when it came to business negotiations and threats… even I was scared of how talented in that regard. She stayed by my side more and more, and I couldn’t help but feel proud of her as my adopted daughter.

Finally, one day, I took her to see Raewynn.

We sat in a tree, watching the smiling girl in a flower garden. In a quiet voice, I explained my history with her mother, and the girl’s identity. Lenora seemed to stare at her with great interest, almost falling out of the tree in her haste. I reached out to hold her in place, but was barely spared a glance by her before her attention was focused on Raewynn once more.

When we came back home that evening, she was still smiling. “You should tell her!” She jumped up and down with excitement.

I frowned, shaking my head. “I’m not sure, she might not be happy to hear the truth.” In my heart I still remembered how her mother looked at me the day I asked her to come with me… like I was disgusting, worthless. I felt a brief moment of fear, at the thought of Raewynn looking at me like that as well.

“But you’re amazing, much better than any silly earl! She should know who her real father is!” Lenora smiled warmly, pulling on my sleeve. “I know I would want to know.”

Really? The dream I thought I had abandoned so long ago stirred to life in my chest at her few words. Would it really all work out so neatly? What if it did?

I made up my mind, sending a letter to my young daughter. In it I explained the truth of who I was. The moment it left my hands, I felt panicked. What if she was too young to understand, she was only thirteen… I agonized over it for days, until finally a reply was sent my way.

Both she and her mother wanted to see me.

I was overwhelmed. The letter seemed to imply that if the meeting went well, they would consider running away, starting a new life together.

Had Helda regretted her decision that day? She wanted to be a family again? Part of me was hurt and angry after her betrayal, but I couldn’t contain the yearning that sprouted deep within me.

A family.

Was it really within my reach?

I left Lenora behind, telling her that if we left, I wanted her to come with us. She may be grown, but I had come to regard her as my daughter. I didn’t want to leave her behind.

“You can be part of the family, have a younger sister…” I smiled as I told her, “I can’t run off without both of my daughters, now can I?”

She cried into my shoulder, promising to wait for me to return. My spirits raised, I headed towards the meeting point, happy.

My family.

My dream was coming true.

___________________________

Once I arrived at the promised spot, however, there was no one else there.

Was I too early? I felt uneasy. I had honed my instincts on the streets these past years, my gut told me something was wrong. I knew, I should get out of here, quickly.

But if I turn and run away, what if I miss them? I hesitated, unwilling to lose this chance…

But I hesitated just a moment too long.

A blade pierced my chest, the sound reaching my ears before the pain hit. I grunted, shocked, slumping to the ground, a weak hand lightly clutching at the handle protruding from me, my fingers slipping on the surface slick with blood.

“Is it done?” A voice I knew better than any other, even after all these years spoke up. I closed my eyes briefly, not wanting to open them, not wanting to see the person in front of me.

“Yes.” A stranger, a man, answered her.

“Finally.” She let out a sigh of relief, and unwittingly I opened my eyes and saw her.

Helda.

She knelt down, looking at me with a cold expression. “You should have just let the past go, Rig. You’re lucky I found the letter first. I can’t risk what you know getting back to my husband. Did you tell anyone else?”

Lenora. I shook my head resolutely, denying her question.

“Hmph.” She stood up, studying me closely. “To be safe, track down his people, and kill them.”

The man who had stabbed me shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal…”

“I’ll triple the amount.” She shook her head slowly. “Just get rid of them.”

Helda walked away, never once looking back at me.

The masked man stared at me with a frown. “Sorry friend, at least your friends will join you in the afterlife.” He reached down, pulling out the knife. I felt my entire chest become soaked with blood, my vision going dark as he left me behind too.

I just wanted to be happy. I wanted a family.

I thought of their words, tears filling my vision as I realized that Lenora might be harmed. The bright girl, who had just learned to laugh again. Who just started to smile after so much pain. Who was so lonely that she cried at the thought of being a part of my family… What would happen to her?

“Lenora.” I whispered the name, feeling pain, feeling regret.

My daughter. I’m sorry. I have to leave first.

Please be happy, find a new family.

Please…

“RIG!”

___________________________

In another life…

“RIG!”

I opened my eyes, having fallen asleep by the window, startled awake at the sound of my name. Blinking, my thoughts scattered, I looked around, only to stop my gaze on the young woman standing before me, my breath catching within my chest.

“You look beautiful.”

Lenora stood there, her hands on hips, a smile tugging at her lips as she rolled her eyes at the compliment.

“I would hope so, given all the work Marile and Erica have put into this!”

She turned around, showing off the flowing white gown, the golden trim shining in the sunlight pouring through the window. She was always lovely, her appearance bright and confident, but today she was stunning. Her clothes and hair were carefully styled, an excited blush coloring her cheeks.

A beautiful bride.

I stood up, giving her a tight hug. “Nate is a lucky man.”

She grinned. “You two gave him a hard enough time when we first got engaged.”

“How else is he going to know how precious you are to us?” I shrugged. “If I didn’t like him, he wouldn’t still be standing, prince or no.”

“I know.” She reached out, touching my face gently. “You and Hallers both defended him against his parents. It meant a lot to him.”

I looked away. “They should know they have a good son.” I muttered. It’s true that Hallers and I both had many long “talks” with Nate after the engagement, which he took in good spirit. But the moment we saw his father make a disparaging remark against him… Hallers was the first to crack.

“Prince Nathaniel is the finest young man of his generation, you are foolish if you don’t recognize how lucky you are to have him as your son!” The words the normally stoic butler shouted out that day still shocked everyone. I had stepped up as well, agreeing loudly.

Nate, his eyes teary, had simply hugged us both, thanking us quietly. A good man, a little quiet, but he was kind and intelligent. More importantly, he made Lenora happy. He was accepted into our odd group without issue after that day.

“Thank you, Rig. For everything.” Lenora’s words brought me back from my thoughts. I looked at her for a few moments, feeling I had to ask one last time.

“Are you sure you don’t want your father to give you away?”

At my question her face grew cold, her normally cheerful gaze growing harsh. “The old duke? He is not my father. Not in any way that matters.” She shook her head. “Rig, in both lifetimes I’ve lived… you’ve always been there for me. You won’t leave me now, deny me having my father with me on my wedding day, would you?”

I smiled. She often spoke about a past lifetime, one that I never remembered. It was strange to hear about. I knew from what she had told me that I had cared for her like a daughter then as well. It seemed almost too much to believe, but no matter my thoughts, I couldn’t help but be grateful that it caused her to seek me out in this lifetime.

“Of course not, girl. We’ll take care of you.”

“Good!” Lenora clapped, “Before the ceremony, I have a surprise for you!” She leaned out the window, looking outside while chuckling. “And it looks like it’s just arriving!”

“A surprise?” I was a spymaster… I didn’t get surprised. Curious, I turned as she walked past me, opening the door to her rooms with a flourish.

I paused, completely shocked.

“Hello… father.” A young girl, thirteen or fourteen years old, stood in the doorway, watching me with a shy expression. I knew her… how could I not? I had spent years watching her grow up, hidden in the shadows of the garden.

“Raewynn?” I choked out the name, barely able to speak, then turned to Lenora. “How…?”

She answered my unfinished question with a smile. “You hadn’t had a chance to see her since coming to Tilendria with me. I know that you said you would be fine, just hearing reports on her wellbeing, but how could I ignore the sacrifice you made to help me?”

She stepped forward, taking Raewynn’s hand with a smile. “Due to some… arranged circumstances, I have been able to correspond with Rae regularly, and as we got to know each other, I invited her here to come to my wedding… And see our father.”

Father. The word repeated in my head over and over, I could barely breathe.

“Arranged circumstance?” I didn’t recognize my own voice, my mind was racing.

“You know how much Raewynn loves flowers, and learning about their uses?” Lenora waited for me to nod, before continuing with a satisfied grin. “Well, I arranged for her to learn under a master gardener.”

“Hello cousin.” the new Duke of Armeny, stepped into the room behind the girl, smiling. “I brought my apprentice, as you asked.”

“Henry!” Lenora hugged him tightly, then stepped back to show him her gown. “What do you think?”

“Hmm… we’re missing something.” He looked her up and down with a serious expression.

“Roses?” Raewynn tugged on Henry’s sleeve with a grin.

“Too traditional. How about lilies?”

“Not enough color.” Both of them were excited, getting into a lively debate before deciding on peonies. Henry ran out to grab a potted plant from the carriage while Raewynn inched closer to me, a curious expression on her face.

“You both are ridiculous.” Lenora smiled while watching her.

Raewynn shrugged, still staring at me. “Flowers are amazing, you just don’t appreciate them enough.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to appreciate them as much as you and Henry.” She patted Raewynn on the head. “Now talk with our father for a bit, he’s still in shock.” Looking around, she sighed. “I have to go get Hallers. He’s been crying ever since he saw me in my wedding dress.”

“Hallers?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. That stone faced man could cry?”

She grinned. “Take your time, you two.” I realized just how much effort she must have made to arrange to bring Raewynn here without raising suspicion, and felt a warmth in my chest. I stepped closer, hugging Lenora tightly.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” She whispered back. “We’re family.”

Family.

I sat down to talk to my daughter, waiting for the wedding to begin. A smile stretched across my face and for the first time in a long time, a weight seemed gone from my shoulders.

___________________________

The time for the wedding to begin arrived. Hallers finally calmed down, taking his place to the other side of Lenora as we brought her to the wedding hall. The Queen, a beautiful smile on her face, wiped tears from her eyes as she hugged Lenora tightly.

“Mother.” Lenora’s voice sounded muffled, as if she were holding back tears.

“I’m so happy for you, dear. My daughter’s wedding day.”

I agreed with the Queen, looking down the hall where a nervous but clearly happy Nate stood, shifting in place as he tried to catch a glimpse of his bride. Henry patted him on the shoulder, pointing at some of the wedding decorations, obviously complaining about the flowers. We walked Lenora towards them, Raewynn scattering petals ahead of us, Erica and Marile supporting the bride’s train behind her, both grinning from ear to ear.

Hallers, the Queen and I all took turns kissing our daughter for good fortune, before placing her hand in Nate’s. I stood off to the side, watching the couple speak their vows of love, my heart full.

The bride and groom kissed, and I cheered with the rest.

This strange group that gathered around Lenora, we were more than simple friends, people brought about by chance. We looked out for one another, cared for one another.

A family.

What more could a man ask for?

#writing #i can't eat love #side part #rig #second chance #second life

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queen-of-bel · 5 years

Text

Okay, I’ve been talking about writing this up for a while, so I’m finally going to do it.

It’s no surprise to my followers that I’m a hardcore Kandori fan and I wanted to list out the reasons why he’s so interesting to me.

Persona 1, Persona 2: Innocent Sin, and Persona 2: Eternal Punishment spoilers

Above all, Kandori is a very prideful man who focused so much on external accomplishments that he gave himself an identity crisis. He used other people’s achievements to secure his position as president of the Mikage-cho SEBEC branch, and made great strides by taking advantage of illegal dealings through Takeda.

However, he’s always been aware that he can’t take credit for these accomplishments, and he feels a sense of emptiness once he’s at the top. Here’s a snippet from his monologue in Deva Yuga:

Everyone wants something. No matter how small the desire… it gives them the strength to carry on. But… if every desire is fulfilled, what’s left to strive for? When one’s wishes have been granted, the only thing that awaits… is a bottomless solitude; an eternal emptiness…

At this point in his life, he’s absolutely bitter. He’s scared that his life has no meaning. Nanjo even points this out to Kandori by saying:

You despair at your inability to live any other way. It stems from one's anxiety for the future. "I want to risk it… But I can't… If only I could disappear…

Kandori is suffering, but is too prideful to ask for help. After all, why would a young and successful branch president have any reason to be discontent?

As a result, he stews in resentment. Instead of placing the blame on himself, he faults the world around him. This selfishness leads him to hate his surroundings and wish for its destruction.

Evidence of Kandori’s anxiety can also be found in a pretty obscure place. In the 2nd track of the first disc of the Megami Ibunroku Persona OST & Arrange Album, there is a song called Deva Yuga (Arranged Version), where the lyrics are actually supposed to represent Kandori and Maki talking to each other. Here are a few quotes from Kandori that I think are really interesting:

Being alive is a mere illusion.

Why are we born?

Why are we even alive?

No one has the answers.

It's an endless labyrinth for the soul.

The heavy cross that we bear goes by the name of 'karma'.

No one can escape it.

We surrender our bodies to fleeting pleasures and try to forget,

but the eternal doubt still remains, shimmering deep in our souls.

When Kandori talks about no one being able to escape karma, this is proof that he feels that he cannot change his situation. To him, even if he were able to change a situation, there's always going to be another one to have to deal with. This is evident in his conversation with Maki (Kandori's dialogue is bolded):

"I want to change."

"That's a waste of time."

"I can't change..."

"There's no meaning in life, you should know that."

"I don't want to be alone! Someone get me out of here! It's so dark in here!"

"You and I are the same."

Kandori laments that he doesn't know why he's alive and has no reason to live. Maki expresses the desire to change, but Kandori tells her it's a waste of time to try and do that. Maki also expresses her fear of being alone, and that she wants to escape, to which Kandori responds that he feels the same.

So now, we can paint a clear picture of the type of person Kandori is.

Kandori is highly ambitious in the sense that he seeks achievements which publicly make him look good, and he'll do anything it takes to achieve that goal. He thinks that if he were to become successful, he will find that his life has meaning. However, he's self-aware in knowing that he can't actually take credit for his accomplishments and instead of rectifying it, he becomes fiercely in denial-- insisting that life has no meaning at all.

He's gotten to the top, but still feels empty. He's scared that if he tries to do anything else, he won't get the satisfaction he's looking for. He believes that people's futures are predetermined, and if he's destined to feel empty and miserable, then so be it.

Now, this is where things start to get interesting.

We know that the next goal Kandori had was to become God and annihilate humanity.

Obviously, there are some red flags in that logic. Wanting to make the jump from a branch president to God is… extreme. So I think we can safely say that this is where Nyarlathotep began influencing Kandori.

As we see in Persona 2, if Nyarlathotep decides he wants to take advantage of you, then you’re kind of fucked. The only person we’ve seen break free is Jun, but that was because of Jun’s immensely strong desire to protect Maya.

Kandori, on the other hand, had nothing that he felt that strongly about. He had nobody that he cared about, his parents are dead, and he was frustrated at his standing in life.

It’s also been stated that Nyarlathotep is the reason behind the entire Mikage-cho incident. As a result, we can assume that Nyarlathotep came into the picture after Kandori became branch president, but before the development of the DEVA system.

Another thing that points to Nyarlathotep being involved with the development of the Deva system is something Kandori mentions in the chamber of the Deva system.

Nothing else will be hurt. Only mankind will be wiped from this planet.

It’s weird that Kandori would make this distinction. What’s the difference to him if the world disappears or just humanity is destroyed?

This ties back into Nyarlathotep’s bet with Philemon– that humanity will inevitably destroy itself.

Now, of course, there is the argument that Maki also wished for mankind specifically to be destroyed, and she wasn't influenced by Nyarlathotep. But there is an important distinction between Maki and Kandori.

Maki held a grudge against humanity as a whole. Her nihilistic outlook stemmed from jealousy that other people were able to enjoy life while she was stuck in a hospital room. She had a specific reason to want mankind and mankind alone to be destroyed.

Kandori, on the other hand, had no grudge against other people. His nihilistic outlook was simply because he was a miserable person. He wallowed in his own suffering, yet refused to take the blame for any of it. For someone with that level of detachment, it shouldn't matter to him if only humanity was destroyed, or if the entire world was.

If we take a look at the Deva Yuga lyrics again, Kandori says:

"Grief and joy, anger and sadness... it's all an illusion.

Who needs such transience in life? That's why I'm going to…"

So, Kandori isn't frustrated at humanity, he just thinks everything around him is a pain. Emotions are just fleeting uselessness. He doesn't particularly hate mankind, he just has no need for anything in life.

And yet, his plan specifically targeted people, and he was very conscious in making sure nothing else was harmed. This doesn't sound like the Kandori we know so far. This sounds like Nyarlathotep.

When we take all of these points into consideration, I think it's safe to assume that Nyarlathotep became involved with Kandori before the development of the Deva system, and Kandori developed his god complex after that.

I want to stress that I'm not claiming Kandori is an innocent person. He was a shady businessman who ran the Mikage-cho branch like a mafia. But his ego hadn't ascended to a point where he believed he had transcended humanity. I firmly believe that was Nyarlathotep's doing.

Even though his detachment was what led to this whole mess, he ironically formed a genuine connection with Maki throughout the Deva system's development. He certainly bonded with Aki over their nihilistic desires.

In Deva Yuga, he knew that Naoya and the others came to fight him. Aki has the power to take them down easily (I’ll touch more on that later), and yet he sent Aki away.

Aki tells the group "You guys are so aggravating! I won't let you get in my Daddy's way!"

Kandori then counters by saying "...That's enough, Aki. Stay back. Wait in the other room. I'll be with you soon."

The reason for Kandori's reaction is simple– he didn’t want Aki to fight and, more importantly, he didn’t want Maki to become like him. Take a look at what he says after the battle with Naoya:

Maki Sonomura… she needs to discover her true self. If she doesn't, she'll share my fate… Go to her… Don't let her go down that lonely path.

At this point, Kandori is literally dying. He doesn’t have to care about anything, but he uses his last breaths to ask for Maki to be saved. He knows his life is miserable, and doesn’t want her to experience the same thing.

Another time that points to Kandori’s care for Maki is in the Mana Castle.

Mark, Nanjo, Maki, and the optional party member (I’m using Reiji as this example) all express their anger and disgust at what Kandori is planning. Kandori uses Aki to strike down Reiji, Nanjo, and Mark.

Interestingly, he spares Maki, despite her attempt to turn Aki against him by telling Aki that Kandori isn't her real Daddy.

If he truly was a nihilistic god who wants to destroy humanity, shouldn’t he have attacked Maki for speaking against God, too?

So not only is Kandori showing signs of weakness around Maki, he also hints at times that he doesn't totally buy into the authoritarian god complex he touts. He's very insecure, and has doubts about the path he's chosen.

A big indication of these doubts is when he crowd-sourced ideas of the meaning of life from a bunch of random high school kids. He tells Naoya

Boy… I allowed you to come here in order to ask you this: Why do you cling to life?

Kandori has achieved his ultimate goal– to become God. And yet, he still feels the same emptiness he felt when he became the president of the Mikage-cho branch. At this point, he was truly desperate for his life to have any meaning.

Later, Kandori was goaded into fighting by when Nanjo bluntly pointed out all of Kandori's shortcomings. Kandori says his retaliation is punishment for speaking against God, but the next thing he says is very interesting.

Can you defeat me? Can you protect the things you claim are precious? Then prove it before god's throne!

This hints that his true reason for fighting isn't to preserve his ego, but he wants to see what a person can accomplish if they have meaning in life.

However, his mind so jumbled and his logic is contradictory that he can't seem to decide what he wants. He does still have his god complex, and as such, still believes that he can win the battle. When he is faced with the truth, though he is shocked that he lost to a bunch of high school kids:

Ngh… I refuse to accept this! I'm supposed to have transcended man!

However, despite what he says, he is ready to admit defeat. Until Nyarlathotep directly intervenes.

Kandori says that something is forcing itself into him, and Nyarlathotep responds by saying "I shall give you the power you desire." Kandori pleads with Nyarlathotep to stop, but is ignored.

If Kandori truly wanted to win the battle, he wouldn’t have refused Nyarlathotep’s help. However, it’s clear that Kandori was ready to concede to Naoya, despite his initial denial.

Of course, Nyarlathotep says that Kandori desired this power, but we also know that Nyarlathotep is a liar (see the shadow selves in P2). Looking at Kandori's explicit plea to stop, and the fact that Nyarlathotep is forcing himself to fuse with Kandori, it's pretty obvious that Kandori didn't want to continue the fight.

Another time in the game that points to Kandori’s true feelings is when he summons Saurva to fight the group before leaving for Deva Yuga.

Objects of one's desire cannot be easily obtained. But the joy of overcoming obstacles to obtaining them is the highest bliss.

This is very interesting because he admits that achieving your dream isn’t what makes people happy, but the greatest satisfaction occurs when you overcome the obstacles in your path to your dream.

(Side note, this ties in very nicely with P2:IS as a point of why Jun's wish fulfillment isn't a good thing, but that's for another post)

Because he views himself as God, he's not saying this as a piece of advice to the youth. He's stating this as an absolute fact of life. This is something he truly believes in, and also believes that other people should accept as well.

In some sense, it feels like he's trying to do them a favor in some twisted way. Of course, by summoning Saurva, there's a chance that Naoya would die, but remember, Kandori initially had no intention to fight Naoya. Kandori allowed Naoya to reach him in order to ask what he was living for. By giving Naoya the satisfaction of defeating Saurva, it felt like Kandori wanted to give Naoya and his friends a sense of happiness and feeling of accomplishment.

Another time where Kandori shows his contradictory behavior is in the undersea ruins after he is revived by Nyarlathotep.

He tells Maya that Tatsuzou has already headed to Torifune, and says "I'd like to tell you to chase them, but… I'm just a peon… I can't let you return."

In saying this, he implies that he, too, wants Tatsuzou's plans to be stopped.

After the fight, he tells the group to hurry and save themselves. Depending on who is in your party, Nanjo or Eriko will plead Kandori to escape with them, but Kandori fires a warning shot, and says he would rather die.

Clearly, Kandori didn't learn his lesson from his first life. Nanjo commented in Deva Yuga that Kandori despairs at his inability to change the situations that cause him suffering, and Kandori's false belief in the concept of fate was the crux of his downfall.

Despite seeming like an ambitious person, Kandori is actually very weak-willed, and is too scared to make any meaningful changes in his life. This is why he allows himself to be Nyarlathotep's pawn, as Tatsuya notes by saying

Guido is aware of [Nyarlathotep's] existence. But why is he aiding the New World Order…? Can it be he's willing to be a pawn…?

Another thing that hadn't changed between Kandori's lives is his desire to hear another person say something that gives him hope. I already talked about him wanting to see what Naoya and his friends are capable of when they feel they have a reason to live.

Additionally, when he's dying in Deva Yuga, he admits to Nanjo that he had been waiting for somebody to see the true him and say that aloud to him.

Maybe I summoned you here because I wanted to hear someone say it… Hah. I must seem a fool… but I feel remarkably content.

In both the research lab and the undersea ruins, he implies that he feels he can't escape Nyarlathotep's grasp.

When Nanjo questions Kandori's motives, Kandori merely replies by saying

Hmph… "The fate of those who are enchanted by the shadows"... I'll leave it at that…

It's a small comment, but what I find really interesting is the part in quotes. This means that somebody else told this to him. Remember, Kandori's biggest weakness is believing that fate is inescapable.

In case it isn't obvious, this "somebody" is clearly Nyarlathotep. Kandori knows about the existence of the Other Side, and who Nyarlathotep exactly is, so Nyarlathotep is clearly directly involved. Kandori isn't choosing this path of his own volition, but is doing so because somebody took advantage of his weakness and told him that this is what he is destined to do.

This point is reiterated in the undersea ruins when Kandori says

Light has its role… Shadows have their role… That's just how it is...

I think it's pretty obvious that Kandori doesn't feel a desire to fight Tatsuya or Maya, but he doesn't feel that he has the power to refuse the role that Nyarlathotep and the New World Order had demanded of him. This is again apparent after being defeated in the undersea ruins. He tells Tatsuya

Magnificent… But… it is not easy for one embraced by the shadows to escape from its grasp… Can you break the chains of fate?

To which Tatsuya replies:

That's why I came… I'll never let that sadness happen again...

This is what Kandori wanted to hear. Remember, he actually wanted Maya to stop Tatsuzou, but felt that he was fated to prevent her from doing so. Chizuru even points this out herself by saying "You wanted to hear the words… from the boy?" Kandori, probably too caught up in his pride, doesn't explicitly confirm this, but doesn't deny it either. Instead, he apologizes to Chizuru for leading her to her death.

I really liked this part because it shows that Kandori is still capable of caring for others, no matter how far he has gone. He is aware that what he is doing is evil, but he doesn't want to see the people he cares for to be dragged down to his depths.

Clearly Kandori is a very contradictory person. As I stated earlier, he is certainly not a "good" person, and yet, we can't write him off as a bad person either. Maki, who should be the person who hates Kandori the most, becomes upset to hear that Kandori was revived, only to die again. She says that she doesn't believe Kandori was a bad person, and wishes she had the opportunity to meet with him again.

Kandori is really interesting to me because he clearly has a proper moral compass, but once he strayed from that, he feels he is too weak to realign himself. He wants external validation from others, but feels too prideful to follow their lead. Overall, Nanjo said it best-- Kandori is a very pitiful man.

#man this ended up being pretty long for a character who only has like.. 30 minutes of screentime across 3 games #persona 1 #persona 2 eternal punishment #takahisa kandori #amelia rambles #my love and life #p1 #p2

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taciturnrebel · 4 years

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drabble : 1620 word count. @niflim & @saigeonmain

I knew from the moment my mother saw the mako-blue in his eyes, she would disapprove, she would hate him regardless of my feelings or his. The shock on her face upon seeing him sat in our kitchen tonight was quick to elevate to anger. And I could see her fingers twitch, wanting to reach for the shotgun hidden in a cupboard nearby to rid herself and us from that which she saw as a living abomination in the world. Fortunately, Cloud picks up on the sudden tenseness in the room and excuses himself to wait outside. He probably saved himself a maiming as well as me having to ask him to leave, something I really did not want to do. I want him here. I want her to want him here, but I know far too well that is not going to happen anytime soon, maybe never.

For a long time, mom stares at our backdoor with the same steely gaze I too had inherited from her. If looks could conjure spears of ice and send them through that door to murder my boyfriend, I don’t think she would hesitate. “Why was that SOLDIER here? Did he hurt you?!” Her attention finally turns to me, and much to my grief, she had not picked up on why he was here, which means I’ll have to tell her myself. Wonderful. She fusses over me as if I were still a child, checking for injuries or any sign of mistreatment, ignoring my protests as I try to avoid those maternal hands.

“Speak to me, Squall. Tell me.” She asks, impatience quick to slip into her voice. This is gonna get rough, she’s already at full anger.

“No, I’m fine. And Cloud isn’t with SOLDIER anymore.” He never really was, but I can’t explain that all right now. Too headachey.

“What? I don’t understand. Why is he here then? Why is my son talking to any product of Shinra?!”

It’s almost like she’s forgotten that I worked for Shinra, even if it was for the benefit of finding her husband. I wish dad were here right now because I know already that he would like Cloud, so would sis, but they’re miles away in Wutai setting up the house while mom closes a deal on our property here. I guess having her husband back hadn’t softened her as much as I would have liked.

“Mom don’t talk about him like that. He’s a person, not a thing.”

“No, Squall. They were human once upon a time ago. But once Shinra puts all that crap in them, they become something else, something inhuman.”

“Oh right, because you know so many former SOLDIER, huh? Cloud is kind…most of the time, he just tends to come off as a bit of an ass sometimes.”

“Wait, so you’ve seen…spent time with him before?” Shit. For a woman so on the ball with everything else, I’m surprised she’s so oblivious to what’s going on here. I’m really just going to have to lay this out for her and hope for a best-case scenario, of which there is none.

“Yeah, I’ve known Cloud for a while now. We’re….uhh, sort of dating, well, not sort of dating, he’s my boyfriend, mom.” Suddenly, it feels like meteor fall over again. A darkness pierces the place that had been our home for ten years, and I can see the blood drain from my mother’s face in sheer horror, and I can see her reliving the past where we had once been the prey of SOLDIER. I don’t remember that time well, but thinking back on it as I got older and then now, she had been on constant guard, snappy, and she wouldn’t let Elle or me out of her sight for even a minute. SOLDIER frightened her then, they frighten her now too. I can’t blame her either. “Mom, it’s okay. Cloud isn’t like those guys that came after us back then. If you just got to know him, you would see that. May---”

“Why are you doing this, Squall?” She asks, accusation rising in her tone as if I had committed a terrible crime rather than fall in love.

“I’m…I’m not doing anything, it just happened.”

“It doesn’t just happ---there will be plenty of suitable women and men for you in Wutai, son. They will know and understand you better than a lab rat ever could. You get along so well with Yuffie, wouldn’t she make a great girlfriend?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” I’m trying to keep my composure as she picks and chooses partners for me that aren’t the one I want, but it’s hard. I had known for years that she would prefer for me to be with someone of our ethnicity because it’s safer, there won’t be any prejudice in Wutai if I were with someone from Wutai. That doesn’t matter to me though, I know for the first time in my life who I want for me, that’s never happened before. “You can’t just expect me to up and forget about him because that’s what you want! I’m happy, doesn’t that count for anything in your narrow-minded little world?”

Facing down her stare is worse than facing down any kind of blade. Is that how I look to people? I just called her narrow-minded, and I’m getting nothing in return which can only mean she’s beyond the point of any normal anger. I can only imagine what Cloud must be thinking about this right now unless he’s already decided to run away. I would if my boyfriend’s mother referred to me as a thing rather than a person. What if this scares him off for good? One of the few positives in my life and she might be about to ruin it.

“I’m going to keep seeing him whether you like it or not. This is my life, and he’s what makes me happy, isn’t that what you want for me?”

“Are you sleeping with him?” I’m certain my jaws drops open as those words leave my mom’s lips. If she hadn’t already made me uncomfortable before, I definitely was now.

“W—What?”

“I asked if you’re having sex with him, Squall.” I suddenly do not appreciate how blunt I can be at times when I hear it from her.

“That’s none of your business. I’m twenty years old.”

“Are you using protection?”

“It’s none of yo---”

“It is my business, Squall Leonhart! You are my son, and god knows what he might be passing on to you from the tube he crawled out of.” I’m stunned, my horror surely matching her own from earlier. I know she’s not that ignorant, she’s just trying to scare me and make me end this relationship, but that won’t work. If she only knew who had been here before Cloud was in my life, her opinion might swiftly change. He’s not perfect, and I never asked for perfect, he’s flawed like everyone else, like me. Maybe now she will realise I’m not her perfect little baby boy anymore, stars know she needs to.

“You need to stop seeing that man now before things end badly. Those SOLDIER people aren’t capable of love.” How little she knows, but I will not divulge the details of Aerith to her. That wound still hasn’t healed on either of us.

“No, I won’t.” I reply the iron will in my tone unshakeable this time. I’m not going to let anyone’s fear take this away from me, not even hers, and I need her to see that. “I love him.”

The mask cracks, her steel tears like a piece of paper, now she knows this is serious. Hands press to her face in despair for this is something that can’t be controlled, she can’t stop my heart from wanting what it wants, neither can I. “I can’t approve of this, Squall. There is a monster in his heart, a darkness in his soul from what Shinra has done to him. And I truly believe he will hurt you at the end of it all.” The mother I know is back who speaks only with loving concern, not from malice. But she still fails to realise that Cloud isn’t the only person capable of causing pain. Maybe I’ll break his heart one day.

“There’s no monster or darkness in him…he’s just, he’s Cloud, a little lost, sad, and he pretends to be a lot cooler than he really is. Maybe we have those things in common.” I can tell she still doesn’t want to hear the opposite of what she believes to be true, her lips purse into a tight line, but at least she isn’t trying to fight me on it anymore, not today anyway. “I’m gonna go stay with Cloud tonight, let you cool off. I’ll even give you the house address if it really worries you so much. But I promise mom, I’m not making a mistake with him.” I stand to leave, the old wooden chair scraping across floor tiles. Hopefully, he’s still outside waiting for me, Cloud isn’t the type to abandon someone he cares about.

As I shrug on my jacket, mom appears silently at my side. I’ve never understood how she managed to do that, but I cease contemplating it when she pulls me into a hug, I hug her back tighter than I usually might to show what can’t be said right now. Even if two hearts eventually end up broken at the end of the day, if myself and Cloud hurt one another, there will always be her love for me to fall back on even if she sometimes shows it in brutal ways.

#♡ cloud strife ( storm clouds wild & merciless in the sky : polyclusion. )#♡ cloud strife ( like a force to be reckoned with ; a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss : niflim. )#here's the paIN I PROMISED

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dotthings · 5 years

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Well this wasn’t nearly as finely emotionally wrought as 14.18 but still there’s a lot to talk about for 14.19, including Team Free Will grieving, Jack as a Godstiel parallel, Cas’s big love for both Dean and Jack, Dean and Cas doing being done with each other wrong, and the box continues to be a really bad plan.

So some AU hunters survived, and Team Free Will, with Dean as the voice, serve as leaders for Mary’s wake. Dean’s speech about Mary as the whole person, her strengths and flaws, as more than their mom, was a good note to follow up last week’s on. And Cas’s face is so so sad. He’s lost someone who was a friend and he doesn’t have many friends. With last week’s ep I talked about how important it was to show Cas grieving, he was present at the funeral pyre, he’s present at the wake.

Dean and Cas drama doesn’t seem to be the end of Dean and Cas. Wot??? I am shocked! Oh wait no I’m not. They aren’t in a wonderful place right now but they aren’t done with each other. There’s quite a lot of Sam, Dean, and Cas in this ep.

“You need anything?” Cas asks, and Dean says, not angry, almost kind of wryly, he could use a drink. Boys, you’re doing breaking up wrong.

This scene where Bobby talks about why Jack has to be put down and Cas’s reaction is a full flip on the scene where Jack tells Cas Dean might have to be taken out to stop Michael. In that scene and here, Cas reacts with horror at the idea, and rejects it. Bobby keeps pressing the point, as Jack pressed his, about the cost. Cas continues to be horrified and against the idea. So, y’know, anybody who thought Dean doesn’t care about Cas and only cares about Jack, and his silence at the end of the Cas and Jack scene earlier this season meant he totally agreed with Jack about Dean, I’ve been saying this all season, but no. Cas isn’t agreeing with Bobby here either. And if all Cas cares about Jack, allegedly, according to some parties, and is against killing Jack, and he reacts the same way in a similar scene about Dean, let’s add 1+1 and get 2 and I have been saying all long, Cas wasn’t okay with the idea of Dean of expendable, with the suggestion of killing Dean to stop Michael, and he’s not okay with this option for Jack either. Cas’s silence at the end of both these scenes doesn’t mean tacit agreement. I wish people would let Cas be Cas instead of deciding he doesn’t care because of the way he doesn’t express as openly as Sam and Dean. The silence is just silence, because the other person’s vehemence isn’t something he knows how to argue with. Not because he agrees.

Jack’s subconscious manifestation (or is it? It is Lucifer? I don’t know what’s happening) continues to be an asshole, playing on his attachment for Team Free Will and fears that they’re done with him which right now, aren’t that unfounded, sort of. Not completely. But, the asshole subconscious isn’t exactly wrong either is it. Jack has gone too far over the edge, crossed a line he can’t cross back from.

Dean crying alone in the rain the woods. :(((((((((((((((((((( Well, Dean’s putting up walls with everyone, not just Cas, but with Sam, with anyone who wants to talk about Mary, and not even in a brittle angry way, he really doesn’t want to have to dwell on it because it hurts. But he’ll go the woods alone to cry.

At least he’s letting himself grieve fully. We don’t see him hitting the alcohol hard to numb the pain, although yes he is doing some drinking, he’s not lashing out, after that breakdown in 14.18. He’s quietly hurting and he needs to be alone to cry it out. He also does grieve with others--he does the speech for the wake, he takes in the AU hunter’s affection for Mary, mourns with them although he’s not close to them. He hides from Sam and from Cas and he cries alone in the woods. It’s not necessarily bad to do some grieving alone. Sometimes people need to do that. I’m actually taking this as a healthy sign. Heartwrenching, but processing his grief in a more functional way than we’ve seen on this show.

“So he lost his capacity for goodness through an act of goodness.” Thanks, Dumah, for stating the extremely obvious irony here in such an obvious way. I totally would have missed that otherwise! LOL.

Sam and Dean seem to be going for some kind of acceptance in this scene. They know Heaven is real and that Mary’s soul is at peace, and that some people never get to know that for sure. But they do, because their lives are so extremely weird, they know Heaven and angels are real, they know exactly where their mom’s soul is. And, Dean adds “there wasn’t even enough left of her to bring her back.”

So Dean letting himself all out cry, even if alone, not raging, not desperate, just giving himself the time to do that, and Sam and Dean finding some semblance of acceptance with Mary’s death. Whereas TFW had a hard time accepting Jack’s death earlier this season, and Sam initiated the idea of finding a loophole to bring him back. I don’t think it’s that they love some more than others, some of this is circumstantial, whether the situation seems like there’s any way to fix it or not. They don’t have her real body. There’s nothing they could do. And back to S13, Dean’s utter, abject despair at Cas’s death, and even then Dean still tried. He prayed to God to bring Cas back. It didn’t work. While Dean knelt by Cas’s side all night he probably ran through some options of what to try and maybe dismissed them because it seemed like it wouldn’t work. That grief wasn’t acceptance, it was despair.

This doesn’t seem despairing. They are, however, still hurting and Dean especially is angry at Jack.

“You have a glorious destiny” is so similar to what Kelly told Cas about Jack. Which worried me then, because great destinies isn’t really where it’s at on this show. You roll up your sleeves and do the job, you try to do the right thing, and you do the best you can. Chosen Ones and Righteous Men...that can be an interesting story but it isn’t where these characters live. Jack and a glorious destiny is a really bad combination. Oh look, he turned someone into salt and attack someone else with worms. Yeah this glorious destiny is going so well so far!

I was glad Cas briefed Sam and Dean right away on what was going on with Heaven. (Cas isn’t the one who’s going to be cutting part of his family out of the loop in this ep...although he still hasn’t told anyone about his deal. Tick. Tick. Tick). Huh, Dean and Cas are standing unnecessarily close together for a moment there, that’s a big room. Okay. You guys really suck at actually being done with each other.

Human souls can be turned into angels? Is this another piece of new mythology ala Bucklemming? Okay fine *waves hand*

Jack positioned to take over as the new leader of Heaven and being a God substitute is shades of Godstiel. Jack, who has been the Team Free Will mirror all season, is going through some late S6/early S7 Cas echoes here.

Sam and Dean deciding between the two of them what they’re going to do about Jack without looping in Cas. Well, well, who’s going off with their plans not communicating and keeping someone out of the loop now. Is it worse if Cas does it or worse when Sam and Dean does it? It’s bad when any of them do it. I think I’ll pass it off as Bucklemmingitis that neither of them even said “we should talk to Cas” and the other one saying “no he’ll never agree” -- I think that’s why they don’t go to Cas with it. They know how attached Cas is to Jack and we just had an ep that was heavily about how much Cas believed in Jack and they all believed in Jack. So I get why. But I’m not for them not looping Cas in. Oh and Dean wants to trick Jack. This plan of Sam and Dean’s is pretty cold but honestly, I don’t know what else they could do at this point. Jack is dangerous. Even if it’s not him being himself, and I think Sam and Dean know that, but they want to contain him before things get worse. They have no plan to save him and they’re going to just shut him in the box. Which, actually, Sam would have agreed to do with Dean if Michael was on the loose and possessing Dean again. Sam was the one who initiated finding a way to bring Jack back when he died earlier in the season. Here I think they have both kind of run out of hope on what to do about Jack. They don’t know how to fix this (not yet). And Jack is incredibly dangerous.

Sam using the “we’re family” line on Jack to trick him into the box hurts. It’s because they take that seriously, and Sam felt it would work on Jack, and them using this now to trick someone who they once considered family--he wields that line because he knows how powerful it is. It’s also paralleling Sam reaching out to Cas in 7.01, with some differences. Sam’s goal wasn’t to trick and trap Cas, he wanted to get through to the Cas he believed was still in there. But here I think Sam feels, as Dean does, that the Jack they know is fully gone, at least for the moment. It’s also true that with Godstiel, Cas was still himself buried in there somewhere, amongst all the monster souls. Cas wasn’t gone, he was possessed by a million monster souls, and therefore, more reachable. A lot of Jack’s soul is burned away (presumably). Jack really just isn’t Jack, Jack’s not in there, buried and confused. He’s just...not himself any longer. Remember how hard and cold Dean went about Godstiel? He thought his friend was completely gone, just as Dean thinks Jack can’t be saved now. Although I’m noticing Sam and Dean don’t really plot too hard about how to kill Jack. Maybe they think they can’t kill him, but they focus on containment not killing and that’s interesting.

Dumah threatening “Ma and Pa Winchester” that is it for Cas he has had it and that’s the end of Dumah and her manipulations. Cas really has committed to the entire Winchester family and by now feels very protective of Mary.

Dean is so angry at Jack. Oh my heart. It’s the kind of anger that’s just so very extra done because it hurts. Jensen played that beautifully. No matter who killed Mary, Dean would be angry, but that it was someone he cared about adds layers and layers. He even says to Sam, after what Jack did to Mary, Dean would lose it. None of this is about how little Dean cares for Jack. It’s very much about Dean’s heart being ripped out by someone he cares for harming someone he cares for and we have been there before, only this is so much worse.

This box is such a bad idea. I thought it was a bad idea for Dean and wouldn’t be able to contain Michael if he got loose anyway, and I think it’s a bad idea for Jack and it’s not going to work.

Dean and Cas are still not acting particularly done with each other although they’re arguing because Sam and Dean stuck Jack in the box and Cas is not happy but at least they’re talking and arguing not stomping off done with each other forever. Is anyone surprised Cas isn’t okay with this plan? And does anyone really think Jack is all Cas cares about? Cas reacted even more badly to the concept of Dean going into the box. It just won’t do. For any of them. Sam and Mary are really important to Cas too, but Cas is closest to Dean, and Cas also strongly takes being Jack’s father seriously and it’s so incredibly interesting that this ep is mirroring Dean and Jack for Cas. Kill Dean to stop Michael, Cas resists. Kill Jack to stop Jack, Cas resists. Put Dean in the the box oh hell no. Put Jack in the box oh hell no. It’s not the canon saying the relationships are identical, that isn’t how paralleling works. It is underlining how important these two relationships both are to Cas.

“We knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.” “Long shots are kind of my thing.”

That sound was the sound of my heart cracking for Sam.

Oh look I was right. Such surprise lol nope that box isn’t going to hold Jack.

#Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Jack Kline #spn #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #meta

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