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mayonakano-archive · 2 years

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Whoaa much enstars lore... and ruri is adorable wait ... also are there canon aliens in enstars??

Tell me more about leo's depression travel arc/alien abduction if you'd like ? I'm fascinated, he's just. He's justa. Liddle guy<3

OH YEAH RURI IS IMPLIED TO BE AN ALIEN AND THE ONE THAT PUT ENGIRLS INTO A TIMELOOP (Uhm, hold on *shuffling papers* okay! Strap in Kippy beloved, this is gonna take a bit!)

Okay. let me explain that whole "EnGirl is a timeloop thing". actually that's about all i know. Ruri (I think?) is implied to A) be an Alien and B) Have put the EnGirls timeline into a loop so it never ends. Why? Idk. I don't know much about EnGirls. Also EnGirls takes place at the same time as Enstars !!-Era so some people speculate !! is also stuck in a timeloop by virtue of that, since the two DO cross over with Ruka/Leo and Suzu/Mika being related.

Anyway! Onto the shut-in Leo arc aka my favorite Leo arc bc he's SUCH a fucked up little guy. So! So!!!! Okay. Okay. I don't know your baseline knowledge so I'm gonna assume you know Nothing and explain it all. Ummmm. Readmore'd for the sake of everyone's sanity bc I go Insane(tm) about Leo. Sorry for the essay kippy i love him so much

OKAY. A story in Three Parts. Part 1: i don't actually have a name for this part its just prelude and talking about the War mostly. I go on "tangents" throughout here that mostly just add extra context to certain things. IMPORTANT NOTES: There's mentions of ANIMAL ABUSE and BLOOD. Also just a lot of SAD STUFF. Thought I'd warn you!

So! Leo! Leader of the Mega unit - [TANGENT 1: MEGA UNITS. Before Units were split up into the 2-5 (Mama is an exception) that they are now, Units were MASSIVE and guild-like. There could be hundreds of people in one unit. One of the side effects of the War was the dissolution of Mega-units] - Chess, also known as "Backgammon" or "Orthello", but when Leo was put in charge he changed it back to Chess. It's heavily implied that Eichi was behind the former leader before Leo getting ousted from his position, allowing Leo to step into the leadership position.

NOW! This is where it gets MESSY. Leo, as you might well know, is a character who loves far too hard, far too fast, and far too much. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it contributes to his downfall. Once he's put into this leadership position, it's revealed that Chess is coming apart at the seams, more or less. Many members just ride off of Chess' good name, and slack on actually being an idol. [TANGENT 2: WHO'S PART OF CHESS (That we care about)? Primarily Ritsu, Leo and Izumi! Tsukasa has NOT entered Yumenosaki yet, Ritsu slacked a lot but still did occasionally go to practice, and Arashi... Tbh I'm wishy-washy on her position but she generally doesn't go to practice or doesn't care much about the unit so while she might be part of it, I don't tend to count her at this stage. Leo is the leader, and Izumi acts as his right-hand man and protector.] So, Leo is kind of also fraying apart at the seams because Chess is falling apart and threatening to splinter into sub-units, especially once Eichi introduces the new Live system; but Leo's ultimately incapable of holding them together and they fragment. Many of these sub-units take names inspired by Chess pieces - Knight was already taken, so Izumi suggests Knights. Leo and Izumi are the founding members of Knights. Sometime around here Leo talks to one of the splinter units he's meant to fight, and offers them a deal. They can be his friend, but never use his songs again; OR they can use his songs all they'd like, but they'd throw away any chance of friendship with him they add. Everyone chose to use his songs. So. After Knights is formed, Eichi starts using Leo (and his friendship with Leo) to destroy units he doesn't care for, and to eliminate the sub-units of Chess. Under the stress of destroying people he once cared for, realizing the members of Chess - who Leo'd do anything for and loved dearly - were only using him for his songs, and his relationship with Izumi getting messy, Leo cracks.

[TANGENT 3: LEO AND EICHI. Leo and Eichi met in the hospital. Leo had broken his arm protecting the cat Little John, who resides in the archery range. Delinquents often hung out in the archery range as it was far from the school, and once day decided to terrorize Little John by shooting her with arrows and trying to burn her. Leo protects her by picking her up and running around the range to keep her away from them, but this leads to him slipping, falling, protecting Little John, and breaking his arm. It's implied the break was bad, as Madara finds him via Little John's meowing in a pool of his own blood, composing with his blood, and saying the pain gave him inspiration as he's "Never felt such pain before" (A REAL QUOTE.) - Also Leo calls Eichi "Tenshi".]

PART 2: SHUT-IN ERA

So. Under all the weight of crushing people's dreams, Izumi's pressure on him, and everything else, Leo breaks and disappears. He becomes a shut-in, forcing himself to compose because he doesn't think anyone will love him if he can't compose. It's implied that he bites his hands till they bleed when he can't compose, and he generally just stops taking care of himself. In Lionheart Izumi visits the Tsukinaga household, and Ruka ends up crying while begging Izumi to talk to Leo, which prompts Leo to come out of his room to tell Izumi off for "making Ruka cry". It's noted by Izumi at this point that Leo can barely stand and looks terrible.

[TANGENT 4: LEO AND IZUMI. Leo and Izumi have been friends for A While, I don't really know how long tbh? Since they were first years, I think? And they're extremely close. Izumi is. Not A Great Person during this whole thing, and while Leo's giving Izumi nothing but love and praise Izumi scolds him and tells him to do better. Izumi himself notes that he made a mistake by being so harsh on Leo. Izumi's actually really hard on himself for his part in Leo breaking, but Leo constantly forgives him and even says during Next Door that "[Izumi] is the only one who thinks he did anything wrong." (Might not be the exact quote, but close enough) So. Leo's entirely forgiven him and thinks him blameless.]

So. Leo just kind of... Shuts himself away. Composes, or, tries to compose. He often says that he can hear melodies in his head, and during this era especially they've disappeared, which only add to his slump. Sometime during this, Madara decides enough is enough and sends Leo travelling. It's never outright stated where Leo goes, or what he does, but he was gone for most of his Second Year, between disappearing and shutting himself in his house. It's important to note that nobody but Madara knows what happened to Leo when he disappeared. (iirc) Madara does bring Leo back to the stage at one point in Concerto, where he manages to get Leo to perform with him. Izumi, I believe, says that Madara "saved Leo" but that Knights "brought him back to the sage" but. Zuzu. Bestie. He performed with Madara first before he rejoined Knights??? Anyway.

Leo shows up again around the start of his third year, sneaking around the school and trying to get a feel for Tsukasa. Tbh I forget exactly when Ritsu properly started joining in but I think that was during the War Era, and Arashi joined in around then, too? So Knights was a 3-person, then 4-person unit for a while. Izumi, Ritsu, Arashi, and Tsukasa. Leo then challenges them to a duel - Judgement. To determine if Knights is worthy of still existing. During Judgement Leo teams up with Eichi, Nazuna, and Kuro to form a temporary unit called "Knights Killers" while Knights is made up of the aforementioned members. Knights manages to tie the Judgement, and Leo realizes that he can't dissolve Knights, as they belong to the others just as much as their his unit. So. Leo rejoins Knights. Huzzah!

PART 3: WHAT'S HE DOIN NOW?

Leo Duels Tsukasa to see if he's worthy of the crown and title of ousama when he graduates. I'm gonna be real I don't remember a lot of this story but Tsukasa does get Leo's approval in the end. So. Leo and Izumi graduate, and Tsukasa takes over as the leader of Knights. Leo and Izumi live together in Italy (after Izumi says that he needs to keep an eye on Leo) and Izumi works as Leo's "manager" to make sure he's not spreading himself too thin.

[TANGENT 5: THAT WHOLE THING. In The DF debut event that I haven't read, Leo's revealed to be taking on a bunch of solo work and spreading himself super thin. The only reason Mama gets involved is because he's concerned about Leo. After this, in Next Door, Izumi says he needs to keep an eye on Leo and make sure he's not spreading himself too thin, hence letting Leo stay with him in Italy, and becoming his 'manager'.]

#WOOF. SORRY FOR WRITING AN ENTIRE FUCKING ESSAY IN YOUR ASK KIPPY #anyway listen to Crush of Judgement if you haven't. It's Knights Killers song and it slaps SOOOOOOOOO hard!!!!!!!!!!#so uh. yeah. tbh a lot of my memory of the stories i've read have faded so!!! a slightly abridged Leo essay for you :)#wtl;dr - Leo's a fucked up little guy but he got better <3 #kippy ⚡#leo.asks!#yk what this gets main tags priviledges #leo tsukinaga #enstars

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petrichorium · 11 months

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Pluvi i’d love to hear about readers four other husbands!! Rip yanqing he’s so confused

WELL SINCE U ASKED

husband #1 — the guard in the drabble! as I said in the tags he’s reader’s childhood friend. Swore himself to her Long before they got married lmfaooooo and part of that oath actually means that he can’t talk to anyone except her and her husbands 🫣 He’s the most physically intimidating of all the husbands, genuinely massive man lmfaooooo but honestly fairly reserved, frankly shy but it comes across as stoic more than anything. Wicked smart and very devoted to reader (obvi) so he’s def kinda her main confidant but she’s v close w all of them

husband #2 — was a political marriage!!! Offered himself in exchange for the continued support of reader’s people. She accepted and they genuinely intended for it to be platonic but he ends up falling for her eventually. He’s actually kinda nerdy LMFAOOOO a historian turned military strategist on his homeworld, now retired from said military and working part-time as a professor at a university on reader’s planet

husband #3 — an admiral; old military family type, kinda a stick in the mud. But he was actually very persistent in pursuing the reader and won her over eventually even tho they rlly butted heads at first (came from a v patriarchal homeworld so it was inevitable tbh). Was kinda arrogant and assumed she was into him and then realized he was kinda into the dismissive thing…….. this one was a VERY slow burn she left and came back to his planet many times before he finally literally begged her to give him the time of day

husband #4 — the problem child…… a rebellion leader on his homeworld who did NOT get along with reader or her three husbands when they first met despite the fact that they were allies. And then all four of them got stuck on a remote moon for a year annnnnnnd the rest is history. Definitely a spitfire, v much a street dog type of guy, and very charismatic. The only one who had a partner before reader; another rebel who died in the battle before reader showed up. He’s still a little hung up on it but happy to have something to dedicate himself to that doesn’t make him think of them

All of them rlly like Jing Yuan LMFAOOOOO and as I say in the tags she’s only married to #1 when she meets him so she marries the other three during this “once every few years I make a trip to the luofu and try to convince the general to marry me” stage pfft. But he actually met #1 before her!!! Jy saved him from an enemy camp and he’s been a lil infatuated ever since 🫣 reader thinks it’s the cutest thing. Jy is also the first person she introduces a new husband to which he always says isn’t necessary but she’s just like :) I mean I gotta make sure ur compatible :) like introducing a new cat yk JDNDKDN

While their home is on her planet w her they’re often offworld doing their own thing!!! #2 is usually off on his own on mostly educational trips, #3 and #4 bicker a lot bc of personality differences (and the difference in their upbringing—they’re from different worlds but remind each other of respective opposing bodies) but honestly spend much of their time together. They’re kinda traveling adventurers and tbh I imagine Jing Yuan just kinda slotting in with them mostly bc he says in canon that when he retires he’d like to travel around 🥺 but also playing diplomat w reader a lot bc they r v much two of a kind jdnfkenr #1 is always with her bc of his position but they all travel together a lot too esp when it’s beneficial politically to portray themselves as a solidified unit

Anyway there u go ty for asking 😌

#ask.🌧#kodzue-ken

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lesbianmaxevans · 1 year

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no but like the writers were SO careless with the throuple???? like the s1 finale had aki and audrey going thru all of that to show max how much he meant to them, and given their persistence in making their case that the three of them should try this, I was expecting s2 to like actually let us see them navigate this new dynamic. show us the domesticity, the fluff, and yes of course the challenges as well, but give us some fun! but we didn’t get that!

the writers only cared about what drama they could wring out of the dynamic. suddenly they can’t communicate at all and are constantly withholding their feelings from each other -- aki and audrey sabotaging max’s attempts to go public instead of telling him that it’s scary to be out; aki being nervous about bottoming (pls don’t get me started on how much I hate that the show was obsessed w the trio’s sex life........ I do not have the time for that on this post) and going to another student for tips, instead of being upfront w his partners; audrey assuming aki and max are going to abandon her and causing that whole scene before admitting her fears instead of just admitting how her issues with her parents are causing insecurity in their rship.

and then in episode 8 -- EPISODE 8 OF 10!!!! -- these writers decided to have audrey and max completely ignore aki’s film festival bc they were too busy with this stupid feud with julien. and then when aki is lamenting about feeling ignored, ingrid kissed him -- WHICH WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE ON THE SHOW CALLING THAT CHEATING???? AKI DID NOT INITIATE AND HAD NO INTEREST IN INGRID MY GOD!! THAT’S NOT CHEATING!!!

but anyway aki is rightfully upset over the way audrey and max minimized this event for him and the narrative focuses on the fucking “cheating” aspect????? aki is never allowed to vocalize this feeling of being dismissed and sidelined??? and like my god the way these last three episodes made audrey look so bad, like her decision when learning about aki’s “indiscretion” is that she and aki should hide it from max?????? LIKE HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING FROM YOUR RELATIONSHIP WOES SO FAR??????

and all the stress about saying “I love you” was dumb bc -- AGAIN!! -- after everything aki and audrey did in 1x12, idg why they are having these issues. like yeah being startled by the abruptness is fair, but other than that it felt utterly nonsensical.

and then when max hears about aki cheating and audrey knowing and gets mad at them for always being a team and him being solo, he’s so right!!! like we even see it w the premiere w the two of them talking about stopping max’s plan for going public, like aki and audrey are constantly consulting each other w/o max’s input and it’s! so! shitty!

and like......... it’s just so fucked up that the season 2 finale’s thesis was literally the exact opposite of the season 1 finale thesis. in s1, aki and audrey were adamant that they don’t work as a couple anymore and their feelings for max are so strong and important to them. the season 2 thesis is that aki and audrey are an inseparable unit. like????????? aki and audrey were literally the ones that proposed “all for all or none for none” and then when max takes that seriously, aki and audrey are like “lol nah we still wanna be together”

like I do believe joshua when he says the throuple was meant to be endgame but with this utterly careless handling, it truly does not feel like it was worth it for the writers to go there at all. like god we got NOTHING in terms of them being domestic and having fun bc it was just nonstop drama and that’s when we actually got content of the three of them together.

also wow im sorry I hope this was coherent, I took medicine to soothe my very sore throat and it kicked in like halfway thru typing this up I feel v drowsy and my limbs are heavy I need to lie down bye

#Gossip Girl #aki x audrey x max #makidrey #akimaudrey #Rachel's GG thoughts #long post under the cut #I'm gonna do edits of the final two episodes when I'm feeling better and it's gonna probably mostly be the trio lol

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bestworstcase · 2 years

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Think she assumes he's waiting until he feels he's done enough for humanity's redemption and calls down the Gods, which she doesn't want success or fail, and if my brainworms are right Salem's grand goal for having all the Relics is to, sit on them so no one else can put them together. Like Ozpin. Because both of them thinks the other is gonna end the world and Salem is going around terrorizing the world because that's her best idea for making sure Ozpin never believes he's achieved the terms.

oh i’m 100% certain salem believes ozma is still trying to fulfill the divine mandate and is debasing himself in service to the gods generally; there’s also no doubt in my mind that salem thinks there is zero chance under any circumstances that the gods will rule in humanity’s favor, because she knows exactly what the brothers are like. so while it’s clear that this level of destruction is new for her—ozma wouldn’t have been able to keep her a secret if she was knocking kingdoms down on the regular—i assume she’s been fucking with every significant peace he’s been able to cobble together so as to prevent him from ever deciding humankind is sufficiently united to bring the relics together.

but the impression i get is that salem thinks ozma has A PLAN, not in the nebulous sense of “summon gods once unity is achieved” but a specific series of actions that he has prepared and is executing, or his followers are executing on his behalf, right now. which he does, sort of, in the most general sense of “keep the relics locked up” but—she obviously thinks there’s something more complicated afoot. (4.3 she hears from summer rose her mystery lieutenant and seems to be concerned that 1. ozpin might have survived or 2. the crown might not be at beacon; the last thing she says in that scene is a puzzled “what are you planning?” like—her perspective of this conflict is that ozpin has an agenda she is trying to figure out and get ahead of, and she’s wrong because we know he has no plan? but this fascinates me bc it suggests salem has a fundamentally different understanding of what she’s doing than the heroes do.)

anyway,

if all salem wanted was to make it impossible for ozma—or anyone—to summon the gods, all she’d need to do is get one and bury it somewhere. she doesn’t need all four. ozma went after all four because 1. he did in fact intend to see his task through, which meant he planned on triggering judgment day eventually, 2. he thought he might be able to use them to destroy salem, and 3. he didn’t want other people misusing them. the latter two are of no relevance to salem, and she could foil the first objective merely by securing one of the three; that she self-evidently IS going for more than one suggests that she is in fact planning to use them—either the relics themselves, or by putting them together to summon the gods.

personally? i think she’s still on the defeat-and-usurp-the-gods plan, and she’s making her move now because she thinks she’s found a viable way to do it. the relics are bait to get them to come back so she can kill them—or whatever it is specifically she plans on doing. (though i’m not yet ruling out the possibility that the gods are already returning and salem 1. knows about it and 2. assumes ozpin summoned them on purpose; it’s been shown that magic—the staff—can’t just blink stuff from point a to point b, there’s travel involved, so a divine return across astronomical distances could very well take a significant amount of time!)

i don’t think she would ever be satisfied just keeping one or all of the relics and staying in this holding pattern; she’s not like ozma. the core of her character is relentless and increasingly desperate efforts to free herself—first from her father, then from the tyrannical gods and the torment they’ve inflicted on her. by necessity immortality has made her very patient and methodical but whatever her intentions might be specifically, they’re definitely moving forward towards a goal of change; “and so we must press on.” etc etc

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millepara · 2 years

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waccha primagi episode 32 + 33 + 34 spoilers (watched over 3 tired days & it shows)

can’t believe we’re already on ep 32. that’s so many

why is Nyan-jii spying on Undine and Amane, two people who have relatively little to do with him

SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘SUKI YO’ WTF ARE THE SUBS DOING TRANSLATING IT AS I FUCKING CARE ABT YOU...... HOMOPHOBIC

they had no other choice for that aishiteru though lmao

Nyan-jii can apparently read lips which I can only assume is bc he’s out here spying on literally anyone all of the time

fascinated by the fact that apparently Hina just has Phoenix as its own card in her coord book? I was thinking that the Element whatevers just lived in their respective coord cards but apparently they turn into a card on their own. which means that apparently Phoenix would prefer to live life as a piece of plastic in a binder rather than as an independent being.

33 now. that’s even more than 32

even now that I know it’s just Ohara Sayaka’s voice activating me I still find myself starting to go crazy when Undine is on screen sometimes lmao I hate this

interesting how Hughie and Toma are rehearsing even though we’re never going to see them perform in the anime ever again

god Hina is so cool.. this rival declaration... I love her so much

ooohhhh noooo HINA!!! usually you are so good at listening to others why pick this ONE PARTICULAR TIME TO not do it... I get that Jennifer gave you the biggest dismissal possible but that’s not what she was... it’s not how... aaahaghghghg :( oh well I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy with how Jennifer actually feels that primagi is not for competition anyway. one of the things I love abt Hina is how she is here (location where she is at any given moment) to win

this bridge scene is a fav. all of my boxes are checked

and today’s.

IT’S BECAUSE I LOVE YOU HINA..........

just a normal girl going on a date w her hamster

yes YES I love this coord

I’m not choked up it’s just. the air is suddenly thinner in my room I think

!!!!! WHEN DO WE GET THIS ILLUSION IN THE GAME!!! SO COOL (HOT)

!!! so the Sun element they mentioned in one of the last two eps is an actual one? that Jennifer potentially has/had (?) considering it’s glowing behind her like an ominous halo? they said it was so powerful that it was harmful to the wearer or user or whatever, so is it also involved in the whole Ryuume business? and then how it seemed to be coming for Hina... was it trying to replace Phoenix in order to be worn by Hina? or was it just wanting to beat her up (via Jennifer’s primagi?)? so many new things to think about!!

all of that aside though next is Hina and Amane’s unit. all three of these eps have been pretty gay so I’ve really got my hopes up for next week!!!! their song is going to be so good......

#its because i love you!!!!!!!!!!!

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nathank77 · 1 month

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5/7/24

4:31 a.m more added by 4:40 a.m

Well I finished the Kristen Report and made it a pdf. It's on my flashdrive and I'm going to print the 20 page report tomorrow at staples as well as reprint the petition and take Elise off the form. I still can't believe in you Elise... but if you're here you're just a person to me and def not a provider... and the more time that passes I still love you but you seem like a bad person. I want to trust those eyes though... and our circumstances...

Anyways if you're here, I changed a few things in the report and just used your first name. That was easy. It's going to cost me money to reprint that page cause I have to reprint the entire petition. I also have to print the whole 20 page report that is almost 13000 words.

It was stressful and took me hours but I figured since I missed the cardiologist and it was going to sum up to an useless day and tomorrow is hardcore moshpit and I want to stay positive about it and hopefully I can play bo4 all day everyday for a week. I figured I might as well finish it.

As I edited it the first time- I was like crying while I read certain parts and I mean... I realized it was only going to be good enough to a point. That my perfectionism ocd was becoming a thing. I mean don't get me wrong I caught a bunch of stuff and being I started writing it in December.... I had a lot of stuff I had to change the wording for cause stuff changed despite trying to keep it updated throughout my many editing phases...

I added a paragraph disclosing I was trans cause I mean it was/is a hardcore fixation point for hallucination...

Anyways as I read/edited it and was crying sporadically, I realized I can't do it again. I might as well read it one more time bc reliving it everytime I edit it and read it is hard on me. So I read it one more time. I'm sure I missed something but it's a really good and a strong report. She will likely lose her license.

I'm going to print it tomorrow, call the unit ask about the witness thing on page 5 and make sure I don't need a notary for it and then go to ups and get a notary signature... if I have the time I'm going to ship it ground and get tracking and insurance cause between the notary and fucking printing costs, I mean if it didn't get there somehow.... I mean I lose like 20$ including the envelope...

I hope I can get all three things done:

1) print the report and refill out page 4 omitting Elise

2) get the notary for page 4/verify that the witness part on page 5 doesn't need a notary

3) Ship it

Then I can move on and watch her practice burn to the ground...

Erin actually got reported for a dual relationship. They aren't taking away her license if she does as follows:

1) pays a 5k fee

2) takes classes in 3 months and pays for that

3) and works under someone for 3 years

- I feel bad for Erin bc she's going to let them take her license cause she doesn't have the funds and doesn't want to over stress being under a magnifying glass for 3 years as she works private practice. She doesn't want to lose half her money and all that and send in reports on every client..it sounds like hell.

I'm def losing Erin as a therapist... once she has her meeting and she refuses to do that stuff...

The good news for me is that's a slap on the wrist for the therapist! A slap on the wrist!

If worse case Kristen doesn't lose her license. She will have to sell or put her practice in her husband's name.. I hope she loses it and I see CLOSED... but worst case for me she gets this slap on the wrist... assuming they take my case and I hope they do or I did all this for nothing...

If this is what happens, she will have to take half the pay and be under constant scrutiny sending in reports about all her clients under a fucking magnifying glass... she will have to pull money out of her ass and it will def effect her quality of life.

Although she deserves to lose her license permanently... I hope they take my case and take her license. She needs to go fucking down.

I can't get my life back, why should she live like her negligence didn't make my quality of life a 0?

And unfortunately for me I may hear this voice for the rest of my life. I may not recover. People survive with psychosis.... they go into remission and cope with the symptoms not everyone recovers....

I could permanently be deprived of hearing the wind in the trees without hearing a fucking voice talk at me.

And her losing her license doesn't feel like enough if I can never sit in the woods and hear the wind in the trees and bird chirping without hearing a fucking voice.

I used to love doing that. Nature was internal peace to me and I may never experience it again.

The chatter of people talking in the background which is headache inducing may be all I get for internal peace for the rest of my life. That and not being allowed to think otherwise it aligns with me and I hear that instead of the TV.

It makes me want to overdose.

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unmeiokaemasu · 9 months

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I FINALLY beat Sacred Stones! :D

The "finally" is bcs the first time I played I literally set it down in the final chapter and just. never didn't pick it back up for like a year, at which point I was better fire emblem player so the idea of picking up a year-old savefile was abhorrent.

THEN, in the past year I've had two different software difficulties with it that led to losing save files. So yeah, the difficulty of finishing was not game difficulty, but software, including my own brainpower.

I'd been bashing my head against several maddening mode runs of Three Houses - since there are so many save slots I've got a run going for each of the four paths, and I'm not far on any of them - and finally got fed up and decided to see what I could salvage of my SS savedata.

The answer was not nothing, and...I honestly can't tell if this is an easier game than Blazing Blade or not; it might just seem that way because this time I was extremely cavalier (lol) about sending my units into danger...and I found out they could handle it. I think I used to just assume a magic unit had a more-than-50% chance of getting hit by a physical attacker and that a physical attack would shave off at least a third of their health, and the reality is very much not that. If you've trained your units, they're pretty tanky.

The first time I played through, I lots Vanessa in an early map and wasn't willing to restart it for her, and then didn't recruit Amelia when she threw herself into battle against one of my units and died before I could recruit her...so this time I was determined to not let any unit die, that's just my playstyle that's what I like, that and getting the supports I want adds a layer of challenge to some otherwise easier games.

And BOY HOWDY was Vanessa my MVP this time around. I think I did the same thing with Florina in my most recent Blazing Blade playthrough, insisted I'd make a good pegasus knight and damn, they do get good...although Vanessa promoted to a wyvern knight so not sure if that's a point in favor of pegasi? Anyway. Talk about a tank, I feel I really redeemed myself for letting her die the first time.

I went in the first time interested in the relationship between Ephraim and Lyon, knowing little about Eirika and kind of resenting that I had to start with her...and then by the time it got to picking a twin to follow I picked her instantly, even knowing Ephraim apparently accomplishes more story-wise in his route. I find Ephraim kinda boring, which I think is a consequence of splitting the protagonists like that, and Lyon...Lyon is honestly the second purple-haired softboi I thought was going to be my favorite and then was just kinda...idk. too soft. underbaked. Radiant Dawn fans @me if you know where I'm going with this.

(My real purple-haired softboi love is Knoll, idk why and I don't care, he's extremely disillusioned and sad and tired and resigned and I love him)

Anyway Eirika is in my top 3 favorite FE protagonists list, she's just probably my favorite version of a standard FE protagonist alongside Eliwood. I might like Eirika even a little more personality-wise but Eliwood's in my favorite game and I love him a lot so eh, I don't have to pick a winner.

So yeah, Sacred Stones is going to slot in very solidly at #4 for my favorite FE game ever. Blazing Blade just hit the exact right balance of gameplay and story for me, and Path of Radiance and Three Houses I think managed to both tell good and complex stories with excellent writing while also being fun to play (I'm so sorry Genealogy fans I'm a weak baby scrublord and I can't finish that game I know it has good writing but also it is more cynical I k n o w it's good I'm not arguing that I just cAN'T--)

Ahem. Anyway...oh yeah also the reason I was trying so hard at 3H maddening is...I finally have a hardmode-classic cleared savefile on 3H! :D

I think I may have beating Verdant Wind on that mode, but I don't have that savedata anymore so I can't check. Anyway I cleared hard/classic Azure Moon with these rules: no new game+ (so no bonus statue restoration, I think that was mechanic that let you buy things like support and weapons and professor levels so none of that either), no items from sources other than base-level gameplay (with possible exceptions, we'll get to that) so no under-the-bed items, nothing from amiibo gazebo, and no spirits of the fallen (I just played with online turned off), and no abyss resources other than the students (so no exchanging renown for items that the statue...honestly I don't even know what else is down there, I never used any of it even on easy mode, but yeah I defo didn't use it this time).

So the things I did allow myself were recruiting the Ashen Wolves (Yuri is basically always my dancer now and I always train up Constance so they can pass that paralogue and get Yuri's relic), and then stuff like Constance's quest to get the roster that allows you to to redo an answer once per teaparty, Aelfric's flower quest, the two Ashen Wolves paralogues, etc, all those things were allowed. Pouring exp into other students, esp the Ashen Wolves since they're available so early on, means sacrificing exp for your house's students, which means a harder Hunting by Daybreak, so I figured it was a fair tradeoff.

So yeah that was really fun. Glad to have both a hard/classic 3H and Sacred Stones savefile finally under my belt. What's next?

I honestly tried to start New Mystery and uh. ran into trouble getting it to. work. Will work on that more. Hilariously I saw there was a mod to minimize Kris's involvement, but I shan't be using that, bcs literally my main mission statement is to find out how annoying Kris actually is. I haven't beaten Shadow Dragon yet (the version of Marth's story that I've actually played), but I've gotten quite a ways in, and that really is the danger zone for me. I really do enjoy the early parts of Fire Emblem games more, when all the level-ups and unit potential and support-conversations-if-that's-a-thing haven't been decided yet. But I also like actually finishing!

So yeah I wanna start New Mystery, and finish Shadow Dragon. Then I've got a Binding Blade run that's like 2 years old at this point that I'll probably return to since that games...less fun to slog through...Shadows of Valentia I never finish, idk if I'd restart that or pick up my now like...three or four year old run of that...might fuck around and start Thracia...and might take another stab and Genealogy chapter 4 and see how I do. I won't ever get back to Radiant Dawn unless I can successfully transfer savedata from Path of Radiance, and at this point for me that means actually getting through Path of Radiance from the start again...which as I'm saying it actually sounds like a lot of fun. I might...I might actually do that. We'll see.

SO YEAH that's my Fire Emblem diary for today. I truly adore this franchise. I think there might be a lot of other jrpgs I might like for their story, but this mix of story and turn-based strategy is just absolutely perfect for me. I've noticed I've done well in irl board games in the past couple years, and it's definintely bcs of these games. I thought I'd be bad at strategy to the point of never enjoying these games unless they were on easiest-possible mode, but now I love the challenge! And yeah the fact that even tho in broad strokes the endings will always be the same, I adore the little things you can affect along the way (mostly who your best units are and which pairs make it to A-support). I may not have loved Engage, but there're still a bunch of great FE games in the back-catalogue for me to experience for the first time or have a new fun run of. Excited!

#catfishchat #fe talk

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no12cme · 1 year

Text

Full Name: Lady Evelyn Andoré Valentis Trevelyan of Ostwick

Preferred Name: Evelyn

Aliases: “Lina Taysel” (scholar/businesswoman); “Ianna [of Ostwick]” (when disguising as a commoner or traveling on an assumed name); “Yulia” (when dealing with her mom’s shadow network later on)

Nickname: Eva; Evie

Age: 17

Birthplace: Ostwick

Social Class: Noble

Noble House: House Trevelyan - Main Family (Second Household)

Religion: Andrastian Chantry

Religious Sect: Divine Justinia V faction

Personality: INTJ

Archetype: The Father’s Daughter

Conflict: Evelyn’s conflict lies with her fear that she will be betrayed again by her supposed “Inner Circle” in her past life. THat is why she help Max succeed even if she has to play devil’s advocate to Max’s ideals as she think Maxwell can be quite naive to how dark a person can be when faced with enough danger or reason. Even though she was 17, she already faced a lot of problems no lady deserve to face. She is slow to trust because of her experiences in the past and also as to how the wind is blowing in Ostwick politics. Though she know her family loves her for now, she is not sure if in the future her siblings or cousins won’t turn on her, as they were also partly responsible of her ruin in the first timeline.

Twist: Evelyn was not betrayed by her friends’ choice and the reason was not because she is ruthless and calculating…Corypheus actually used a portion of his magic to make her inner circle and whom she call her family and friends to see her in a very negative light and kill her as his final revenge and change their perception of her (this will be hinted on one of the main storyline) thus she was put into trial for execution after DAI main quest in which Divine Victoria (Leliana) had created an exalted council fast with the three Orlesian leaders to deal with Evelyn’s growing power thinking a ruthless inquisitor such as she could undo their efforts. Interestingly, her allies did nothing to refute her. House Trevelyan withdrew their support for her thanks to Julian, her third eldest brother who conspired with Hardened!Leliana bc he covets Evelyn’s shadow network and its assets after

In fact, there will be a storyline in which a scene will be played in which what remains of the inqusition has disbanded and Cullen had a sense of regret killing her…the inner circle noticed that after she died as if an invisible veil was pulled from their eyes a veil that sees her as a cold ruthless leader that needs to be put down…and now they slowly remember what her accomplishments and how she had stopped a great evil from destrying the world…and they kill her just like that in fear of her losing control what never happened? For the sake of the nobles she had to trample? For the people she had to sacrifice?

Cullen thinks these were not fair and so does many people who knew her and felt shame. One by one the inqusition forces resigned in the aftermath and soon the inquisition disbanded. Cullen embarks on a quest what actually happened to the inquisition after Cory died and he suspected that there was some magic at work. What remains of inner circle discovered that Cory indeed cursed them into seeing Evelyn in a negative light and had killed her due to their paranoia, interstingly, this wouldn’t have happened if they ever see her as their ally and friend to begin with, which also indicate Evelyn was not well-liked even before the curse by the inner circle….this was the last straw for most of them as they decided that the last thing they did as an organization was to erect a monument in her honor to venerate her achievements at least on the annals of history, even though the rest of the masses will forever see her as a cold, calculating leader who had also ended many lives for the sake of a goal. Were they worth it? Was she right about everything? Scholars would debate on and on about this endlessly. The Inner Circle disbanded never to unite ever again in their regret. Cullen decided to stop by on her statue to give flowers and to shoo away children who vandalized her statue. Cullen saw something in the horizon and left…Weeks later,

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

Text

Misunderstandings - Anakin x fem Reader (angst +fluff)

Masterlist

Thank you for the request @artiza-n ! 💕

Wc: 6.4k

Summary: Anakin and reader get sent to Naboo to guard Padme and Clovis during a debate and some misunderstandings ensue. Mostly jealous angst, some fluff at the end— happy ending bc we all need that right now.

Gif from @swprequels

“I still don’t understand why they need both of us,” you grumble, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you walk out of the cruiser. The day is hot on Naboo, but grey and cloudy with a promise of rain later. The humidity makes your skin sticky, worsening your irritation.

“Think of it as a vacation,” Anakin pulls the luggage from the transport cubby, setting it on the ground beside him. “You watch over Clovis, and I’ll handle Padme. It should be a breeze.”

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t understand why they need both of us.”

You had just gotten back from a long and grueling siege on Pontoon, another one of those vast, endless desert planets in the Outer Rims. You’d really much rather be sitting in front of an air cooler right now, resting your tired bones and trying to forget the taste of sand.

“These are two very important Senators, Y/n,” Anakin waved off your attempt to help him with the luggage. “If anything happens to them at this debate, the Senate will lose important advocates for peace and the end of this war.”

You knew this, of course you did. Not that you’d completely agree with his statement-- Clovis always seemed a little shady to you, his morals seemingly scattered all over the place. You guessed that’s why the Council sent you, a simple marksman, to guard Clovis while the beloved freedom-fighter Padme Amidala got the most powerful Jedi to ever exist.

“Besides,” said Jedi nudged you, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

Of course you do. Between the war and separate guild or Council missions you’d both been sent on, neither of you had time to even breathe in the others’ direction for months. The only reason the Council was able to wrangle you onto this cruiser was because Anakin was going to be there. Not that you’d even be able to spend much time with him during the day, although you were aware that you’d be sharing a room in between the Senators you’d be protecting at night…

You and Anakin meet the Senators at the hull of the ship. They walk down the ramp side by side, heads held high and hands clasped in front of them. Their movements are smooth, like they’re gliding on water, and the heat doesn’t seem to bother either of them.

“Master Skywalker. Y/n. Thank you so much for being here, it is so courageous of the both of you to be looking out for us,” Padme stands before you, beautiful as ever in one of her many extravagant, expensive gowns. The headpiece woven through her hair sparkles in the midday light, the warmth of her eyes capturing the rays of the brilliant sun. “However, I must say that I hope your services are not needed. I’d much rather this debate go by smoothly than have any dangerous interruptions.”

“I can assure you, we’ll take care of any problems before they arrive. Leave the dirty work up to us,” Anakin returns her smile, charming as ever.

Anakin shoots you a glance and then follows her away, carrying multiple bags of luggage in each arm as Padme shows him where to put it. For such a small woman, she seemed to pack heavy. Unfortunately, this leaves you and Clovis to stand alone together, an awkward stillness settling before you.

“Um, Anakin has your luggage,” you yawn into your arm, gesturing to his receding form with the other. “I’m Y/n, and I’ll be your bodyguard for this debate.”

“You?” Clovis doesn’t smile, instead he scans you up and down with hawkish eyes. “You’re such a small thing. What could you possibly be able to do to protect me?”

It’s not said unkindly, but it still irks you. Your eyes narrow and you bite back a nasty retaliation for the sake of diplomacy. “You’ll find I’m pretty good with a blaster. The best, actually, according to the Jedi Council. That’s why they have me work with the Generals in the war.”

“Are you a General yourself?” Clovis begins to walk, heading toward the senate building. You follow at his side.

“Not exactly. They offered me the title, but I declined. I’m more of a freelancer, and once the war ends, I’ll go back to taking odd jobs. Besides, there’s no use in having an army if I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Humble. That’s admirable,” Clovis’s mouth tilts into something of a smile. “I, myself, could never turn down an army. Or the status, for that matter. You could be holding a lot of power if you pushed your way with the Jedi Council, you know.”

“My way?” you questioned. “I just told you, I don’t have a way--”

“And that’s your flaw,” he mused, chin still pointed up, never quite looking at you. “How curious-- your Jedi counterpart seems to have stolen all the ambition.”

You roll your eyes. You never had a thirst for power, or status, or influence, or any of that. Your power came from behind a blaster, when your focus was trained on a single target and your finger was glued to the trigger. One simple twitch of a muscle, and you could end a life from miles away. That was your power, and it was all you needed.

He is right about Anakin, you have to admit. He was always looking to be better, not just for himself, but for the good of others. You love that about it, in fact it’s one of your favorite qualities about him. Sometimes, though, you wished he could see that he didn’t have to try so hard all the time to believe he was enough.

The blast of cold air that hits you as you enter the senate building wrenches you out of your thoughts. It whisks away the perspiration that had built up on your skin, cooling your body and calming your mood almost magically. The sounds of your collective footsteps tap along the glossy marble floor, echoing throughout the empty chamber.

“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re doing here?” Clovis leans against his podium, marked with a nametag spelling his name. Next to him is your seat, and on Clovis’s other side is Padme, followed by Anakin on the end. A cold dread fills your veins, just now realizing how boring tonight’s debate is going to be.

You sigh inwardly, tracing the engravings of your nametag with the tip of your finger. “My job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to observe.”

“Well, observe away,” he pushes himself off the podium. “Although I don’t think it will be very entertaining.”

He’s right. You sit in your seat, legs crossed on top of your podium as you inspect your nails. It’s been three hours since you’ve arrived, the sun is setting, and all Clovis has done is stroll around the debate room, muttering to himself and pondering through his position. You’re bored out of your mind. Pulling out your holocom, you wonder if Anakin’s situation is any better.

“Y/n?” he picks up a long moment after you send the call, and his face projects blue before you. It’s loud where he is, and his eyes are looking at something else.

“Where are you?” you question. He sounds like he’s a party, but you know that can’t be true. “Where’s Padme?”

“She’s with me,” Anakin tilts his head, signalling that she’s sitting in front of him. “We’re at a restaurant getting dinner. I was just going to ask-- did you and Clovis go somewhere to eat yet?”

You drop your legs from the podium and lean in close to the com, speaking quiet so Clovis can’t hear. “No, he’s barely said a word to me since we got here. He’s been walking around the debate room all afternoon, just talking to himself.”

“You think he’s nervous for tonight?”

“Maybe,” you spare a glance at him. He’s staring at the domed ceiling, as if he’s counting the pillars coming out of it. “Or maybe he’s just psycho.”

“Oh, Clovis knows what he’s doing,” a femine voice interjects. Anakin’s eyes shoot forward again, immediately smiling as Padme speaks. “His pre-debate ritual is long and gruelling-- I should have warned you. He’s simply getting into his headspace, that’s all.”

“How long does it usually take?” you mumble.

“It shouldn’t be much longer. Make sure he eats beforehand, otherwise he’ll be crabby during the debate. And trust me, you don’t want to have to handle a crabby Clovis.”

Both Padme and Anakin laugh at this, and you force yourself to smile along. “Yeah, I’ll go see what he’s up to now.”

“Good,” Anakin says, momentarily drowned out by an uproar of cheers behind him. “We should get going, too. Padme needs to get dressed for the debate. See you soon.”

Anakin ends the call, and you’re left wondering how exactly the topic of dressing Padme came up.

Shoving down your irritation and self-pity, you pocket your com and stand from your seat. Clovis’s head whips toward you like you had pulled a blaster on him.

“What?”

“It’s getting late,” you stretch your arms over your head, working out the kinks and aches from sitting so long. “I was wondering if you were hungry at all.”

“I can’t eat before a debate,” Clovis looks almost angry for a second, and then he glances down at his watch. His expression smooths into one of urgency. “Ah, we should head to the apartments. It’s time to get ready.”

The night is still warm, and the sidewalk drips with a rainstorm that you missed while you were in the senate building. The fresh air is nice, though, and you breathe in the smell of sweet flowers and savory restaurant food. The grumble in your stomach is hard to ignore, but you know you’ll manage.

Clovis leads you all the way to his suite, the temporary apartment that sits in conjunction with yours and Anakin’s, and Padme’s on the other side. Staying in this apartment complex made more sense rather than finding separate housing units, as keeping everyone together would aid in ensuring their safety.

Padme’s mansion would have been a nice stay, you think, but these apartment sweets are also quite luxurious. You walk into the master bedroom to find a formal, dark blue gown laid out for you on the bed. Next to it is a rumpled space where you assume Anakin’s suit had been, but instead there’s a note and a box.

Padme wanted to get to the senate building early, so we’re probably going to just miss you. Too bad, I won’t get to help you into this sexy blue dress. Maybe I can help you out of it later.

You laugh softly, smoothing your thumb over the inked-on smiley face before finishing the note.

I’m not sure if you had time to get anything to eat, so I got you something while we were out. See you soon.

You don’t need an “I love you” scrawled into the paper in order to know he wanted to add it. That would have been too risky, and there was no way you’d be able to make an excuse if anyone were to find it. Still, you rip up the note and throw it in the trash before opening the box underneath. Your nose is instantly filled with the smell of food, still warm, and you sit next to the blue dress, digging in unceremoniously.

You scarf down as much of the food as you can and then store the rest in the fridge before getting to work on making yourself presentable. You have to look put together, yet not so much that you stand out. You slip a couple of silver clasps into your hair and do your makeup, opting for a bold lip color because you don’t have much time to do anything fancy with your eyes. You’re running short on time-- you know this because of the knock on your door, and then the irritated sound of Clovis:

“Y/n, we have to leave now or we’re going to be late. You know how bad it would be to arrive late to this event?”

You stand in front of the mirror, desperately reaching behind you to grasp at the zipper of your dress. It would be so much easier if Anakin was here to reach it for you, but you make due and quickly pull it up. The dress is form-fitting and flows down into a puddle around your feet. A bit long, as you opted not to wear heels in case something went awry, so you bunch the skirt up in your fists and jog to the door.

“My apologies,” you open the door to find Clovis, now dressed in a pristine black and white suit with his hair gelled back. “I was making sure I had my equipment all in order.”

Clovis ignores your excuse, eyes instantly moving to take in your figure. You could swear they blow open wide for a fraction of a second before he composes himself, clearing his throat and masking his approval with his usual grim expression.

“You clean up quite elegantly. Now, we should head to the lobby, the limousine is waiting for us.”

…

You’re not sure what the point of a limousine is, as the walk from the apartment buildings to the senate building is 10 minutes tops. Probably for formalities, you decide, as Clovis helps you out of the vehicle. The building that had been vacant only a couple hours earlier is now swarming with Senators, all dressed in lavish, extravagant gowns. Everyone is holding a flute of some sort of drink, and they congregate in small groups, making small talk before the debate starts.

Clovis wastes no time with socializing, and beelines for his seat.

You hang back, searching the crowd for Anakin. Without heels, many people tower over you and it’s hard to focus with the deafening sound of chatter filling your ears. But you’re trained for this, have spent your whole life blocking out the unnecessary, so you hone into your patience and scan the crowd closer.

There.

You’d recognize that head of golden-brown curls anywhere, even if it was tamed down for this event. He’s standing tall among the Senators, eyes gleaming bright as he engages a whole crowd of them in some wily story. He and Padme look at each other and laugh, his hand on her shoulder and her hand finding his waist. Your blood suddenly turns hot, and you push your way through the crowd to make it to them.

If you could, you would march right up and pull him away from all those greedy stares. They’re practically drooling all over him, and Padme’s hand is still on his waist. But you know better-- you can’t let anyone know you and Anakin are familiar, so you stand at the edge of the crowd, meeting Anakin’s eye.

You glare at his face, then at Padme’s hand, then back to him. His eyes narrow into a warning, extremely fleeting, and then he continues on charming the crowd. You know what he wanted to say-- it means nothing. It doesn’t stop the heat from blossoming in the pit of your stomach, the irritated glare you shoot Padme before looking down.

Way to stay under the radar, you think, slipping away from the crowd and deciding it’s better to keep your eyes on Clovis than get angry over a move on your boyfriend that was probably innocent.

Clovis is sitting at his seat, still as stone, surveying the crowd before him.

“You nervous?” you take your seat beside him.

“Not at all.”

“Good. You’ve been preparing all afternoon, I think it’d be ridiculous if you still doubted yourself.”

“You… have faith in me.”

“Of course,” your eyes softened at the vulnerability in his statement. “You’re a powerful Senator.”

He huffed, the crack in his green eyes immediately cementing over. “I know.”

And, there he is. Back to being gruff and dismissive.

It’s quiet for a moment longer, but you’re okay with that. Small talk is not an interest of yours either, and you’d much rather sip on the flute of drink that a servant had given you than join the crowd on the floor.

Unfortunately, you have trouble wrenching your eyes away from Padme and Anakin, who are still surrounded by drooling Senators. Padme looks like an angel, dressed in a floor length gown spun out of gold thread that you’re pretty sure came directly from the sun. It shimmers and sparkles as she moves, standing out like a beacon of light among the rest of the room. She is radiant, with a matching headpiece that glitters like a chandelier, the jewels braided in and out of her chocolate curls. Even her makeup is minimal yet blindingly beautiful, with a gold shimmer staining her eyelids and cheekbones that reflect the warmth of her topaz eyes.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Clovis murmurs next to you, so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Who? Padme?”

“I believe she’s taking quite a liking to the Jedi.”

Heat sparks in your blood again. The fact that even Clovis notices how handsy Padme is being… then again, it’s a known fact that Clovis and Padme have a history, and he could just be reading too far into things out of jealousy.

“You shouldn’t call him that,” you choose to ignore his concerns. “Anyone could be listening.”

“You see that smile? That’s the smile she only ever gave me. I wonder if she even knows she’s doing it…”

“Clovis, Anakin isn’t allowed to form attachments. You have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not him that bothers me,” he admits. “It’s her. Look. Look at the way she leans into him when she laughs.”

You take his advice and… now that he says it, she does get a little too close for your liking. Every time Anakin finishes a punchline, the crowd erupts in laughter and Padme joins in, bracing herself by gripping onto his arms and grinning into his neck. He catches her, ever the gentlemen, but he’s smiling too.

It’s a little more than innocent, and you can’t tell who’s fault it is. But that doesn’t help the jealousy steadily rising in your chest.

“The debate should be starting soon,” is all you say, leaning back in your seat and scowling into your flute of drink.

The only thing keeping you rooted to the seat instead of launching out of your chair to rip Padme away from Anakin by the hair was the fact that you know you’re the one who’s going to be sharing a bed with him tonight-- not her.

You’re just hoping he even makes it back to your bed. Or will poor Padme need help with something else that requires Anakin’s doting attention?

A bell rings just on time, signaling for the Senators to take their seats. Anakin leads Padme over, arms hooked around each other, and she smiles at you as she approaches.

“Y/n, you look wonderful,” she whispers, and then slides into the seat between Clovis and Anakin.

Your cheeks burn in shame. How can you harbor such awful feelings toward her when she was so sweet? But the anger is worsened by the compliment she had just given you-- it’s one thing to be drop-dead stunning, why does she have to be so kind, too? What are you to compare?

After tonight, Anakin’s probably going to think you are so difficult-- always complaining, always tired, never as pretty or gentle or kind. You don’t have a laugh that twinkles like wind-chimes, or eyes that reflect the light like soft glowing pools of honey. If she is the sun, you are just a cold, hard, chunk of ashen moonrock.

The debate goes on for an eternity. You zone out for a lot of it, stewing in your anger and drowning in self-deprecating thoughts. A few times you’re brought to the brink of tears before you remind yourself you’re here on a mission, and throw yourself into scanning every nook and cranny for something that could be amiss. Eventually, a break is ordered.

Senators begin to rise from their podiums to stretch their legs, including Padme. She tells Anakin she’s going to the washroom, and your eyes zero in on the fingers lingering on his arm as she leaves. You stand as well, meaning to walk a little and stretch your legs, and Anakin follows you.

“Padme’s right,” he catches up to you easily. “You do look wonderful. Blue really is your color.”

You stop by the open window, breathing in the fresh air as you search his eyes for truth. Does he truly mean it? Does he look at you with that same light he had looked at Padme with? Or is he only saying it because he has to? Because he’s used to complimenting you because you’re his girlfriend?

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you lower your gaze, picking at the marble stone engravings of the windowsill.

“Y/n,” Anakin lowers his voice. He’s concerned now, picking up on how upset you are. “I said you look beautiful. What’s the problem?” “No, you said I look wonderful. It’s different than beautiful.” You mean to leave it there, but can’t help but add, grumbling under your breath, “Padme looks beautiful.”

It’s immature. You know it as soon as you say it, but for some reason you can’t stop yourself. You just want Anakin to take more notice of how strong Padme’s coming on to him, to assure you that it means nothing. You know it means nothing, but you still need that confirmation.

“She does,” he says, and your heart drops. You look up at him, and he’s staring back with an intensity you can’t decipher. “She’s a Senator, Y/n, this is her debate. Of course she has to look beautiful.”

“She’s more beautiful,” the words fall from your lips and taste like poison.

“What’s this about?” Anakin’s voice is dripping in irritation. Once hearing it himself, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he speaks again in a softer tone. “Why are you comparing yourself to Padme?”

Gah, even the sound of her name coming from his mouth is like nails on a chalkboard. But you decide to do the first smart thing you have all evening, and take a lesson from him. You breathe deeply and bite down on your anger before answering.

“I’m not trying to,” you admit, eyes falling from his face to trace the exposed skin of his neck. “I just-- she’s flirting with you.”

“It’s harmless.”

“I-- I know. But…”

“It still bothers you. You’re jealous.”

“I have nothing to be jealous about,” even saying this, you can hear the lie in your voice. You repeat the statement, more to yourself, trying to believe it. He’s yours-- for now. He could just as easily be Padme’s. What if he wants to be Padme’s?

“Look,” Anakin takes another grounding breath, then fits a finger beneath your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “I can see you’re trying to think rationally, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re being ridiculous. But… you’re being ridiculous.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You have to understand, I do not like Padme like you’re thinking. I--” he cuts himself off, eyes flitting around the room before leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “I love you.”

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin, making you shiver. His lips ghosting over your ear, the whispered promise of his devotion to you… suddenly, you feel very stupid.

“Okay,” you accept, and the bells ring again, signalling everyone to take their seats. You head on over with him, but not before putting as much heart into your next words. “I’m sorry for getting jealous.”

“It’s okay,” he gives you the first warm smile of the night, smoothing your hair down quickly before breaking off to take his own seat.

You sit next to Clovis, considerably calmer, replaying Anakin’s whispered “I love you” over and over in your head, the touch of his gentle hand in your hair. There was no need to make such a fuss, and honestly you were upset with yourself for ruining the night. You decide to make another smart decision for the night, and push away all of the negative thoughts to the deepest corner of your mind. No more, not tonight-- instead, you would focus on a way to make it up to him for being so ridiculous, and to thank him for being so patient with you.

It’s as you’re planning the rest of your night out, that you see Clovis’s knee bouncing under the podium. You know his time to speak is coming up soon, and his actions betray his mind. He’s such a liar. He is nervous.

“You’ve got this,” you tell him, reaching onto the podium to give his hand a squeeze. His palms are clammy, and he looks at you like you’ve struck him.

“I know I do,” he spits, but doesn’t move his hand from underneath yours. “It’s just pre-performance jitters.”

His next words are so quiet, you almost don’t catch them.

“It doesn’t help that I have two gorgeous women sitting next to me to witness this all.”

Now it’s your turn to look like you’ve been struck. You know he means for you to hear it, otherwise he wouldn’t have said it. Anakin seems to be thinking the same thing, as you can see him give Clovis a sidelong glance just as Padme takes the seat between them again.

“I-- um… we’re rooting for you,” you fumble. “No need to get nervous now.”

Clovis blows out a long breath, and then covers your hand that’s squeezing his palm with his other. “Thank you, Y/n. You’ve truly been so patient and accommodating this whole night. I must find a way to pay you back afterwards.”

“Oh, there’s no need--” your words are cut off as the delegates call for order, and then the debate resumes. You don’t miss the way Anakin’s back stiffens in his seat.

Clovis works up a nervous sweat in the minutes leading up to his speech, but when he gets up, he delivers it without a flaw. Everyone claps, and then Padme goes. You clap along once she’s finished, trying not to calculate if Anakin is clapping harder or faster for her than anyone else. He’s not… but you just had to be sure.

There never seemed to be any threat for the entire night, except for one instance. A young man stood by the door, eyes shifting around for a moment too long to be casual, and Clovis seemed to notice as well.

“Where, exactly, is that equipment you were speaking of earlier?”

“There’s a strap on my thigh, and it holds my blaster to it. Look,” you pull your skirt back to reveal your leg up to your thigh, where the tip of your blaster peaks out. “See, nothing to worry about.”

It doesn’t even cross your mind that Anakin would notice, or that he’d even mind.

Finally, the debate ends, and the senate room is dismissed. You let out a long breath, ready to just get out of this dress and relax in the suite with Anakin now. However, you stand to leave your seat but Clovis is in your way.

“Y/n, like I said before… I must show my gratitude for your services. Please, let me buy you dinner.”

“Oh-- Oh geez… um.... I can’t,” your eyes flit from Clovis to Anakin, who’s standing behind him. He’s got his back turned, bidding farewell to the new friends he made, but you know for sure that he’s listening. “I really need to go to bed, we’re leaving early in the morning.”

“You can come to my suite, we can order room service. They’re right next to each other… besides, you can always just stay over at mine for the night. There’s room.”

That tone. Those eyes. You know what he’s insinuating, and it sure as hell isn’t just dinner.

“Clovis, I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The green cracks of his eyes are hardening again, the soft daisies growing from them being wrenched out in clenched fists and stomped under a boot. You want to stop them from freezing over in that insufferable ice again, and decide it might be nice to humor him for a job well done tonight. After all, he was a lot kinder to you than you thought he’d ever be, and part of you likes being one of the few people on his good side.

“How about I walk back with you to the apartments? We can do that much.”

Clovis smiles, and holds out an arm. “I’ll take it.”

As Clovis escorts you out of the debate room, you turn to look back at Anakin. He’s ushering Padme out of the crowds, staring after you as you leave. He doesn’t smile, or wave, or do anything really. Except look angry.

A sudden ball of nervousness forms in the pit of your stomach. Oh no. Offering to do this was a mistake, that much is becoming clear with every step you take with Clovis latched onto your arm. You can feel Anakin’s eyes burning into your back the entire way out of the senate building, until you’re on the streets of Naboo and he’s off in a limousine with Padme.

Of course he’s going to be angry at you now. You were mad at him for allowing Padme to flirt with him, and now he’s going to think you’re making a move on Clovis to get back at him for it. Even though that’s not at all what’s happening… Oh how the tables have turned.

You’re jittery the whole walk back. Clovis tries to make conversation, but you only offer him short, clipped answers. Really, you should have shut down his advances in the debate room. No matter that you pitied him for being rejected by Padme and yourself, you should have said no. You didn’t owe him anything. But here you are, and now you are going to suffer the consequences from Anakin when you get back to your room.

“Are you sure you can’t stop in? Not even just for a drink?” Clovis asks as you make it to the top of the stairs. You turn the corner, and Anakin is leaning against your apartment door, arms crossed, clearly waiting for you.

“Uhh,” you unwind your arm from around Clovis’s. “I really can’t. Sorry.”

Clovis follows your gaze, and sees Anakin. His tone turns steely. “Is it because of that Jedi?”

“No, oh my-- no!” you feign the most incredulous expression you can, nerves growing more frenzied as you grow closer to your apartment door. “I really am just so tired. Please Clovis, I have to go.”

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like this--”

“You’re right,” a deep voice cuts in. “It doesn’t.”

Anakin takes the arm that Clovis refused to let go of, and slips it out of his grasp. Thankfully, for Clovis’s sake, he lets him. Anakin pushes you behind him and stands before Clovis, towering over him by a couple inches.

“It was a pleasure serving you and Senator Amidala. Hopefully we can work together again soon. Have a good night”

Each word that comes from his lips are dripping with venom. Clovis grows red in the face, and you can tell he’s trying hard not to retaliate. In the end, he decides to turn and stalk back to his own apartment door.

Once it slams shut, Anakin turns to you. You meet his eyes with the most innocent expression you can put on.

“None of that,” he hisses, and steps past you to walk into the apartment.

“Oh, come on!” you follow close behind, closing the door and jogging to catch up with him. He’s standing before the bed, roughly loosening his tie. “Anakin, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really? How am I supposed to believe that after what happened earlier?”

“Yes, okay, I admit I was jealous of you and Padme. But I got over it! I swear I wasn’t trying to get you back for it, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Anakin pulls the buttons off his shirt so hard, you’re afraid they might break. Suddenly, he is shirtless, and so very mad, and so very tall… and muscular… and… wow…

“You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that,” he argues, stopping to stand before you. You wrench your eyes away from his toned midriff and meet his eyes, which are blazing with hurt and anger. A warmth is rising in your veins-- a different kind than earlier-- but it’s beat out with something stronger. Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, trying so desperately to ignore the heat that’s radiating off his chest. “I really am. Clovis was just… kinder than I expected him to be--”

“Was he? Was he kind when he had you sit in silence all afternoon in the senate building? Was he kind when he refused to let you eat? When he guilt-tripped you into spending time with him?”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” you cross your arms and size him up. “And you’re not totally innocent either, you know.”

“Really?” Anakin cocks an eyebrow at you, sitting down on the bed roughly. He leans back on his arms, daring you to continue.

“You let Padme flirt with you, and you never told her to stop. You could have set some boundaries, told her to back off a little...”

“And you could have told me you were leaving with Clovis before gathering your skirts and skipping away,” Anakin bites back.

“I wasn’t planning to! Anakin, please, both of us made mistakes tonight. Can we just agree on that?”

He frowns, eyes flickering over your still-dressed form. He motions for you to come closer and turn around, so you do. Gentle fingers work at the zip on your back, dragging it down to free you from the constraints. You remember the note he wrote from earlier, how he couldn’t wait to take the dress off of you, and grow disappointed at how the night had gone. This was not the context you had been expecting.

The way his hands linger on your waist, you know he’s thinking the same thing.

“Okay. We both made mistakes.” You feel his soft curls against the bare skin of your back as rests his forehead against you. You hold your dress up in the front so as not to expose yourself. “I’m sorry for letting Padme flirt with me. I should have put an end to it-- I know it hurt you to watch.”

“It did,” you whisper. “But I’m also sorry. For getting so jealous even though you never accepted her advances, and for making it seem like I was trying to get revenge. It wasn’t my intention.”

A soft “it’s okay” is kissed into your back. His hands grip your waist, turning you in his grasp. He’s looking up at you now, hair mussed up and eyes wary. “You good?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

What were you guys doing? At the end of the day, it’s you and him. Padme is out of the picture, and so is Clovis. Everything is alright, and that fuss you both put up throughout the night was virtually pointless.

Looking into his eyes, the ones you love so much and could never picture yourself ever parting from, suddenly this whole thing seems elementary. How terrible, disastrous, and ironic this night turned out. Replaying the events in your head, you find a smile begin to crack at your lips. Anakin can’t keep a straight face either, the ridiculousness of it all beginning to catch up with you both. You begin to laugh, and he follows, burying his head in your stomach as you hug around his neck.

“We must be back in training school,” you giggle, feeling his shoulders shake beneath you. “How pathetic of us.”

“Ahh,” he groans, suddenly wrenching you off your feet and onto the bed on top of him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible. “Let’s just forget this night ever happened. It was dreadful and embarrassing.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I was never even here.”

“Me neither,” he presses a line of warm kisses down your neck, stopping at the strap of your dress. “Let’s get this off. Do you still have your blaster on you?”

You pat the metal strapped onto your thigh. “Locked and loaded.”

“Well, gee, thanks for telling me. I definitely didn’t want to get my head blown off.”

“Safety’s on, wisecrack,” you help him shrug your dress off, kicking it from your legs and off the end of the bed. You unclasp the band from around your thigh and distribute the blaster onto the nightstand.

“I’m the wisecrack,” you don’t miss the way Anakin’s voice deepens, attention suddenly captured by the bare skin of your body beneath him. His eyes follow the path his fingers are tracing up your leg. “Careful, or I’ll have to report that to the Council.”

“For what? Being right?”

“For creating conflict of interest on the job,” his fingers skim the soft flesh of your upper thighs, tickling their way past the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up and up and up… “It’s terribly naughty of you.”

His words are teasing and corny, but somehow the deeper insinuation of them still cause your cheeks to burn red.

“Anakin,” your voice is hoarse, causing your blush to deepen. His long fingers cup your chin, keeping your lips ghost over his as his other hand pulls the silver clasps from your hair. “I need a shower.”

“I can meet you in there?”

You clutch at his shoulders, bringing him forward to close that gap between your lips. His mouth is warm against yours, pliant and soft and generous. It’s everything you’ve been yearning for all night, all this time you’ve been apart. The smell of him, taste of him, feel of him— you could never get enough.

“I’ll save you a spot.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x fem reader #anakin angst #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fic #jealous anakin #soft anakin #Anakin x fem reader smut #anakin fic

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whump-town · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you've already answered this, but where do you think Hotch was during Boston (Bale)? Like, clearly Gideon was Unit Chief then and calling the shots, and it's established at one point that Morgan was supposed to be there but wasn't, so where was everyone else? I know we got a fair bit of background on Bale and Gideon's breakdown, but I just want to know where the others fit with it, and what the dynamics of the team were pre season 1. Were JJ and Reid even on the team yet at that point?

I have but I do love this head canon very much so I don't mind talking about it

So canon doesn't really have a whole lot to say?? Garcia joins the team sometime in 2005, I'm assuming post-Bale (post Boston) because Hotch hires her, not Gideon. From the general set-up of the first two/three episodes, it would also appear that JJ and Reid seem to be a very, very recent hires (Reid sent to work with Gideon and JJ with Hotch which makes sense given the nature of their jobs). Explicitedly, it is stated that Morgan was not in Boston when the bomb went off. He is specifically trained (somewhere along the lines) in bomb tech stuff so Gideon sent him back to "the office" to look at bomb fragments to try and create a little profile from what he saw and/or could recreate from the fragments.

I think the most sensible place for Hotch to be was probably there in Boston. At that point, he's been the lead profiler for a very long time (since '98) and very, very good at hostage negotiation.

This is where the head canon stuff comes in:

He's hurt in the blast. The majority of their team gets taken out but by some miracle he makes it out but just barely. Gideon goes MIA the second the dust settles. Leaving Derek to call Haley and take the brunt of the burden of telling her they're not sure if Hotch is going to make it but if she wants a shot at a goodbye she has to haul ass. Which is why Derek is so pissed at Gideon. His friends have just been killed and the one that made it out barely did and Gideon just left them. He abandoned post.

Which I think really forms a nice little backstory for their behavior in season one. Why Derek is so pissed – Hotch isn't his best friend but Derek is fiercely protective and he doesn't want Gideon to fuck them over again – and why he also backs down the second Hotch pulls him aside to clarify "hey, I forgave him, why can't you?". Because Derek doesn't let his guard down but he settles down a bit after that.

of course I like to embellish here and imagine a lot more to do with other things?

Like Strauss pushing them to hire more people, sooner rather than later, but Hotch is way too out of it to be doing that just yet so Morgan is forging his signature and doing the people hunting on his own. He sets up a meeting with JJ but something happens with Hotch and Morgan tells her as much, that his friend is sick and he can't meet her at the office. So she shows up at the hospital with a shrug bc she's like twenty-something and really wants this job. And she sits with Hotch a moment while Morgan tries to get himself together enough to do this interview. She's hired on the spot and that's why she gets on so well with Hotch. She's already seen him low, she watched him get better (continued to do her job but back then instead of just walking over to his office she'd drive to the hospital with lunch and they'd have a good time).

So like the first episode picks up on like Hotch's first month or so back. Which why everyone's such a mess. They've been doing their jobs from wherever worked best. In his hospital room. In his home. From their own homes. They haven't worked together like this before.

Anyways, that's my crazy ass theory

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issamhysa · 3 years

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Hello! I really like your work, And I was wondering if you can do an Gojo x foreign F!Reader where reader is in united nations parliament (in short a politician or...diplomat I dunno how to put it) and Gojo and her first meeting was when he was assigned to protect her when she came to visit japan out of 2 reasons; 1-)reader is a major influencer in united nations parliament 2-)she has high levels of cursed energy but slowly both starts to develop feelings for each other (hope this isnt silly)

anon i’m sososososososo sorry this took me so long! dis long as FUCK tho but i really liked the idea + i’m using second year gojo for this bc hehehehe he’d be a SIMP <3

“gojo, couldn’t you at least try to make yourself look presentable? we’re meeting with a diplomat, after all. couldn’t you have worn something more... formal?”

the white-haired sorcerer lazily lolled his head to the side, looking at his best friend with a smirk. “no need to be so mean, suguru! jealousy is not a good look on you,” he mused, straightening his posture and lowering his dark glasses down the bridge of his nose, crystal eyes fixed on the double doors.

“besides, she’s just some boring old diplomat. she afraid someone’ll steal her crackers or something?”

geto rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. “come on, satoru. give her a chance,” he said, lips stretching into a lazy smirk. “you’ve never met her. and i’ve heard she’s quite the beauty.”

“please,” satoru scoffed. “she’s probably old... and saggy...” he stuck his tongue out and scrunched his face up in mock disgust.

“who’s old and saggy?”

though gentle, the voice coming from behind the two managed to startle gojo, forcing a yelp from his lips and causing him to jump away from the voice. next to him, geto chuckled, turning around to face principal yaga, and you, the woman that stood next to him.

“l/n-san, welcome to japan.” suguru bowed his head, a smile on his face.

you waved a hand dismissively, your laughter an unfamiliar, yet pleasant ring in gojo’s ears. “oh, suguru, I’m not any older than you are. please, just call me y/n.”

at the sweet sound of your voice, gojo almost snapped his neck turning his head, eyes growing wide as they landed on you. you were, by no means, a grumpy old lady. you couldn’t be! there wasn’t a wrinkle or gray hair in sight.

you were actually... really fucking pretty? your skin looked so soft, gojo wanted nothing more than to reach over and touch you; to brush his fingers over the blush darkening your cheeks. and oh, your eyes. they easily rivaled his own in their beauty.

was he drooling? god, he hoped he wasn’t drooling in front of his future wife. how embarrassing would that be?

“gojo!”

an elbow to the ribs brought gojo back before he could start fantasizing about how cute your children would be, and he shook his head to pull himself from his little daydream. in that moment, you smiled, biting your lip to stifle your laughter.

gojo decided you were the prettiest when you smiled.

you lifted a hand, chuckling quietly and shifting your gaze to geto, who was snickering at his best friend’s bewildered state. “be gentle, suguru,” you said, your eyes now on gojo. “i’m sure he was expecting somebody else.”

“y/n, this is satoru gojo. he’ll be looking after you during your stay here,” yaga said, gesturing vaguely towards the white-haired man (who was, frankly, a tad offended at the gesture).

nevertheless, gojo stepped forward with a crooked smirk, bowing before you and taking your hand in his when you reciprocated. he pressed a kiss to the delicate flesh as the two of you straightened up.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n-chan.”

before yaga or geto could scold gojo for his lack (er, excess?) of etiquette, you lifted a free hand, signaling for them to let it go. then, you laughed. “satoru gojo, the pleasure’s all mine. i’ve heard much about you.”

“nothing good, i assume. but, i have to ask,” he started, leaning forward with his hands in his pockets. light eyes peeking over his favorite sunglasses as he lowered his head to look at you. “how come you need a bodyguard, a sorcerer as powerful as yours truly, at that, when you have enough cursed energy to power three of us?”

“well...” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head upward to look him in the eyes. “truth be told, i’m sure your elders aren’t thrilled that i’m here. i know mine definitely aren’t.”

“ah, so your elders hate you, too?”

“more than anything in this entire universe. familiar with the concept, satoru gojo?”

“terribly so, y/n l/n.”

“change is a bit of a touchy subject with them.”

“ah, they're just a bunch of old farts.”

gojo made you giggle, and he found himself wanting to make you laugh more. so, throwing an arm around your shoulder, he brought you close, white teeth bared in a grin.

“i think we’re gonna get along just fine, bunny.”

yaga and geto exchanged a defeated sigh.

#yaga n geto wondering what they've gotten themselves into #i don't know if this is what you wanted anon #but i hope i did the idea justice #<3 #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #ask

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kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.

#burzek #chicago pd #cpd spoilers #<- bc it refers to a bts pic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #adam ruzek #kim burgess #Makayla Burgess

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