#eventually it gets better. but it gets worse before that (the murder attempt i’m talking about the murder attempt)

[cream-and-tea]

so, anything on your mind about pallas and agnes? 😏 (i saw all the poetry reblogs so you are definitely thinking about them)

oh. oh boy. here i go i guess. full warning that i cannot legally be held responsible for what this answer becomes since they do consume so many of my waking thoughts. (however thank you mud endlessly for enabling me on this. i owe you my firstborn child and maybe my life lmao)

but before we get really into this: vague trigger warning for just. all of this relationship in general. this is at its core two very traumatized teenagers in a shit situation latching onto each other in an unhealthy way and forming a codependency that damages them both even further in order to cope. they do learn. they do grow. they do get better over time. but right now it’s Bad.

okay so lately i’ve been thinking about just,,, the evolution of this particular dynamic both in the book and outside of it in a more metaphorical sense, since it also kinda sorta consumed the Narrative as a whole and forced me to refocus a lot of it onto them as a result. like what. what even is that. how does that even happen. i definitely don’t know but it sure did and i’m gonna talk about it.

in its wip intro i briefly described Lay Me Down as “an exploration of the toxic friendships we form in our youth set against a backdrop of ghosts and murder”, and that breaks it down in the simplest way possible. there are, obviously, many many different aspects of the story that it couldn’t it exist without, but the relationship between pallas and agnes is what i consider to be the main emotional throughline of at least this first book, and if these two didn’t meet then one or both of them would be dead and the plot of like. the whole book probably wouldn’t happen. it comes together into a perfect storm that turns into a giant snowball rolling down a knife-covered hill into hell.

when pallas meets agnes they are desperate. they just fucked up an important mission from the director and are terrified out of their mind (not that they show it) of returning to the library empty-handed. so they make a split second decision to spare her life and take her back with them, hoping that by bringing a fresh recruit to her door they’ll be spared some of the directors anger. it’s all business. all careful calculation, scrambling for a solution like they have so many other times purely to save their own skin. that’s honestly all there is.

and the gamble pays off! they’re let off the hook for the “failure” with seemingly no punishment at all! the director is even impressed with them! everything is coming up pallas! until the director reveals that it’s not that simple (with the director it’s never that simple. always another shoe ready to drop) and that because they are the one who bought her here, at such a risk to the continued security and exclusivity of the library, pallas is now fully responsible for overseeing agnes and her progress within it. and the subtext is painfully clear: if agnes fails it will mean that pallas has failed. her success is now their success. her mistakes their mistakes, her advancement now directly tied to their status as the library’s top pupil.

pallas isn’t very happy about this, but they literally cannot stand the concept of failure in any capacity (failure means you’re weak. weakness means you die), so they go from being kind of indifferent towards agnes to seeing her as an investment to be protected, their insurance to their place at the top of the pecking order. so they look out for her. they show her how things work. they make sure she’s safe in a place where virtually nothing is. inadvertently turning themselves into her protecter whether they like it or not. it takes them literally almost dying (well, as close as pallas can get to dying) and agnes helping them in that crisis, seeing them vulnerable in a way few people do, for this to change and force them to admit they care for her as anything other than just another project or mission they’ve been tasked with completing.

this is because pallas has a deeply, deeply skewed idea about how relationships with anyone are supposed to work on a very basic level. they don’t know how to care about someone without hurting them in some way because they believe the only thing they’re good for is hurting and killing (thanks director). they would quite literally, actually rather die then show vulnerability to anyone (thanks director). they view everything as a transaction, a barter and trade of kindness for favours in turn (thanks director). they’ve been raised to believe that everything that makes them soft and vulnerable and kind and human should be metaphorically dragged behind the shed and shot (THANKS director). and more then that: the only other person they ever let their guard down around, the only person they had a semi-functional relationship with, their best friend, was removed from their life (by guess who. guess who. fucking guess who. i hate the director so much it’s unreal.) in a very painful way that was also partially their doing, leaving them scared of ever trusting anyone again.

but they do trust agnes, despite it all they do, and more then that they care about her in a way they haven’t cared about anyone (except maybe the director) since nina died. and once they finally realize that they grab on with both hands and refuse to let go. there is so little kindness in their world, there is so little good, and despite everything they’ve done and everything they are agnes is still kind to them. she treats them like a person, not a monster, not a weapon, just a person. human and soft and vulnerable, all of the things they’ve been told they cannot and will never be. pallas knows what they are, they know what they’ve done, but they can’t help but lean towards her and cling to every scrap of affection she gives them. more than anything pallas sees this as a sort of second chance. they couldn’t keep nina away from dangerous thinking, couldn’t protect her. but they’re stronger now, sharper, better, and this time they won’t allow themself to fail.

and when agnes meets pallas…. oh boy. let’s just say she’s been put through the GAUNTLET. the first three chapters of the book are basically just Agnes And The Awful Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. she’s hurt. she’s lost her family. she’s been chased away from the only home she’s ever known by people out to kill her for something she can’t control into the super evil dangerous magic forest she was told to avoid at any costs. she hasn’t eaten for days. it’s pouring rain. she’s covered in blood. everything even remotely sentient she’s come across has either tried to strangle her or drown her or murder her in basically every way imaginable.

until something doesn’t.

it’s such a little thing, but even though they use magic and FULLY intend on hurting her, the fact that pallas doesn’t just immediately try to kill her is enough for agnes in that moment. she’s been lost and alone and hurt for so long that she is 100% willing to latch on to the first person that offers a chance of safety and survival. and pallas does offer her that chance, they give her a place to go and someone to follow and the chance to learn about the powers that she’s only ever been able to see as a curse. they offer her a way forward, a way to live, and of course agnes accepts it. she has no other choice.

and pallas terrifies her. they completely and totally terrify her and she is all to aware of how they could hurt her if they wanted to. but they don’t. they could but they don’t. and when she’s adjusting to the library they help her, even if they say they’re only doing it out of obligation, they still help her. they quickly become protector and confidant and guide all wrapped into one for her, the one thing even slightly familiar in a world of new and terrifying magic. she follows them around all day, eats food with them, spends basically any time they’re not away on missions with them. at first it’s for her own protection (pallas is a force to be reckoned with and has a vested interest in her safety), but they quickly become her anchor, something safe to fall back on even if they’re made up of every sharp edge imaginable.

and because of that she sees parts of pallas no one else really does. they’re not only cold and calculating and cruel, they’re sarcastic and intelligent and awkward and desperately lonely. they know so much more than her and nothing at the same time. they need someone, anyone to be there. it’s the least she can do. the least she can give them for the life they could have so easily taken from her. even when they regress and threaten to kill her after she brings up nina (nina who she sees, nina who she can’t stop seeing) they still don’t do it, they find her and they sit with her and they promise it will never happen again and she doesn’t really believe them but she stays anyways. of course she does. she has no other choice.

and they come to her helpless. and they come to her bleeding. and she pulls a bullet from inside them and they wash the blood from each other’s hands and curl up on the carpet back to back and they are young and scared and just like her and more than her and nothing like her at all. and she can’t give up on them. like her father never gave up on her mother despite all her barbed words and bitterness. he never left, he stayed until the very end. she won’t ever leave. pallas is terrifying and awful and smarter then she ever could be. pallas is her only friend. she would be dead without them, and they tell her she needs to be cruel but she knows they need her to be kind. she can’t help but be kind, she knows they could be kind to, if they ever got the chance. and even if they never are, they’re something, and that has to be enough.

in conclusion:

[ID. A digital doodle of Pallas and Agnes done in a simplistic, cartoony style. They stand side by side looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, Pallas unsure and Agnes slightly curious. There are thought bubbles above each of their heads. Pallas’s reads “i could make her worse” and Agnes’s reads “i could fix them”. END ID]

#this got so long and took AGES im so sorry #i am normal about characters and dynamics i am normal and okay #and that’s not even ALL of it. that’s not even getting into all the other stuff. that’s just book one #they EVOLVE #eventually it gets better. but it gets worse before that (the murder attempt i’m talking about the murder attempt) #anyways that’s the kids. that’s them. that’s the deal #i think about them a reasonable amount #pallas and agnes #wip: ghost story

[krikeymate]

Till it's all over, I will know you

Jill Roberts knows the Carpenters. Everybody does. And she's met the girls more than a few times over the years, although rarely interacted with them. Kirby's parents used to babysit them after all, and Jill always preferred to be at Kirby's than at home where her mother would go on and on about her cousin, she-who-must-not-be-named. Eugh.

So, Jill knows Sam Carpenter, the devoted sister (and recent troublemaker), and she knows Tara Carpenter, the sweetest most adorable little girl in the world - thank you Kirby. (For the listeners at home, Jill Roberts is rolling her eyes). But she doesn't know them, and she had no intention of knowing them. But life doesn't really care for what you have planned sometimes.

Jill has a bad day, so she does what she always does when she has a bad day, she goes round to Kirby's. Only to find Kirby's not alone. Kirby's out back smoking with her pet project.

After a failed attempt to get Kirby to heel, Jill stomps back inside and throws herself onto the couch. It's not until afterwards that she realises the little sister is here too, curled up at the edge and looking morose, a discarded book beside her.

"Oh great, you're here too," Jill mutters sourly.

The girl lets out a quiet sorry. She doesn't move, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting upon her knees, eyes staring at the blank television screen.

Now that she knows the girl is here, Jill finds herself feeling awkward. She doesn't know how to act around kids, and quite frankly she's not really in the mood, but she knows she's got to be nice to the girl or she'll never hear the end of it. Jill knows how to play nice; she's been doing it her whole life.

"Sooooo.... guess we've both been abandoned, huh?"

Silence is her only response.

Seriously? Jill's trying her best and the girl doesn't even have the decency to respond.

"Jeez kid, what's up with you."

Jill’s mostly uninterested, but she is bored and they're stuck here together for the foreseeable future – until their other halves remember they exist – so she nudges her with her elbow. Eventually the girl mumbles nothing under her breath.

The tone piques her interest. It's bitter. Angry. Familiar.

What’s this kid got to be furious at the world about? At least Jill has real reasons. I mean, so her dad walked out, big whoop. Do you see Jill with a father? No, he disappears back in ’96 after mom refuses to skip town ‘cause of all the murders. At least she got those years with hers. Mom’s a drunk? Join the club kid!

She huffs and spins the hefty yellow and black book between them around. So you want to be an actor?

Huh. Not really what she’d been expecting. Well, she’s not sure what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“This for school or something?” Jill questions before she can think twice. She picks up the book and flips through the pages.

It gets Tara’s attention. “No,” she murmurs quietly.

Jill watches her, brow twitching. She doesn’t remember the kid ever being so shy and subdued.

“You… want to be an actress then?”

Tara nods, and all Jill can think about is how ridiculous it sounds. But more importantly, it gives her something to talk about.

“I want to be an actress too.”

The kid’s eyes light up in an instant, arms leaning forward and body unwrapping itself. She finally comes to life.

Jill doesn’t care about the girl, but the way she triggered the change certainly stirs something within her. There’s that sense of power, of control, of knowing with just a few words you can change someone’s world. For the better, or for the worse.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be big and famous, a movie star. I want everyone to know my name.”

She doesn’t know why she’s telling her this. There’s only one other person in the world who knows about Jill’s dream.

“That’s cool,” the girl says, sending her a small smile. “I bet you could do it! You’re super pretty and awesome and you look like a movie star!”

Jill smirks, brushing her hair behind her ear, pleased. “Thank you.”

“I just want to look after Sam… and my mom,” Tara says, smile fading. “Actors make a lot of money, right?”

Jill hums, filing the information away. “They can, if they’re good. I certainly intend to. I going to do better than my cousin in every way. Be more successful, more famous… more loved.”

"Who's your cousin?" Tara asks innocently, unaware of the minefield she's just stepped herself in.

Jill finds herself clenching her jaw. "Seriously? You don't know? Everybody knows," she scoffs. God she hates people.

But the girl just shakes her head, looking up at her, waiting.

Shit, she really doesn't know?

Jill ponders for a moment. She could just brush it off, say nobody important, but something inside her is curious. How could someone live in Woodsboro and not know about Jill's famous cousin?

"Sidney Prescott." It's hard to say her name with anything other than venom, but Jill thinks she manages it. A worthy act for a future star.

The girl blinks up at her, no recognition behind her eyes. "I don't know who that is," she mumbles, mostly to herself, Jill thinks.

Huh. Interesting.

Before Jill can question Tara, the snick of the sliding glass doors disrupts them, and a foul odour permeates the room. She rolls her eyes at the dopey grins the two losers wear as they stumble in.

"Well look who finally decides to show up," Jill sneers, leaning an arm over the couch. "Did you finally remember the child you abandoned or did you just run out of product like the degenerates you are."

Tara frowns at her, and for a moment Jill thinks she's going to interject, but the girl deflates and looks away. Jill's oddly disappointed.

Sam's frowning at her too, though it's not very intimidating given the way her eyes can't seem to focus. It's funny, it's not immediately obvious that the girls are sisters, until they emote. They have the same expression, the same tilt to their head, the same downward twitch to their lips.

"Jeez Roberts, take that stick out your ass why don't you. Tara's cool, aren't you Tar?"

God shut up Kirby. She's so irresponsible sometimes. What does she see in her?

Tara smiles up at Kirby with the fakest-

"See! She's all good."

You've got to be kidding me. That was convincing? Maybe the kid's got talent after all.

From the corner of her vision, Jill sees the way Sam’s eyes narrow.

“What were you doing?” She asks, clearly suspicious.

The audacity. Jill doesn’t know what exactly Samantha thinks she has to be suspicious about when all she was doing is what they should have been doing, and babysitting her little sister. And she’s about to tell Sam where she can shove her question when Tara answers for her.

“Jill was telling me about her cousin.”

Kirby has the unfortunate pleasure of knowing Jill, so the baffled look she sends her way is unfortunately warranted, and she knows Kirby’s going to be demanding answers later. How bothersome.

Sam, however, makes an incredibly speedy trip around the couch – given her condition – to kneel at Tara’s feet and grab at her shoulders.

Jill’s fascinated by the look in the teenager’s eyes, intense and dark. The strain and barely held-back panic in Sam’s voice only makes her more curious.

“What did she tell you?”

Despite the way her sister’s fingers dig into her shoulders with so much force they turn white, or the sharp way she speaks to her, Tara doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Well, she doesn’t react.

Jill’s always been observant, she prides herself on it. It’s how she stays on top of the social hierarchy. So it doesn’t escape her notice how Tara rests a hand on the back of Sam’s, how she stares back with soft eyes, how her words are spoken back in a sickly sweet tone, so innocuous it can’t be anything other than fake.

“Just that her cousin Sidney’s famous.”

It all feels so practised. And it works. Sam’s shoulders relax and she leans back on her heels.

Jill probably shouldn’t… but she just can’t help herself.

“I’m surprised she’s never heard of her, she might be the only person in Woodsboro who hasn’t. Why is that?”

Her innocent act doesn’t match up to Tara’s apparently, as Sam turns to scowl at Jill, a warning in her eyes and in her growl. “Tara’s eight. She doesn’t need to know about any of that crap, so shut your mouth and stay away from her.”

“Sam, you’re being rude.”

It takes Jill a lot of effort not to release the laughter that bubbles in her chest at the wide-eyed and confused way Sam turns and blinks at her sister as the young girl scolds her.

“I’m not- whatever,” Sam huffs, standing up. “It’s time to go.”

Jill watches intently as Sam grabs Tara and lifts her into her arms, as if she were a toddler and not eight, as Sam was so adamantly just telling her. There’s something possessive in the way she holds her. It feels pointed, and the way she catches Sam glancing at her as Jill hands Tara her book back tells her who this display is all for.

There’s something weird about the Carpenter sisters, something… not right. She can’t help but get one last word in as they go to leave.

“Have a good night, don’t let the Ghostface bite.”

She smirks as Sam freezes and her head twitches slightly to the side. Jill finds herself hoping she turns around and confronts her. It’s so very entertaining and she finds she wants to know, to understand, to find out what it is Samantha’s hiding.

Unfortunately, the day continues to be full of disappointments, and Sam continues walking.

Tara sends her a shy wave over her shoulder, which Jill reciprocates, flashing her a winning Jill Roberts smile.

The moment’s ruined by Kirby throwing herself onto the couch, her head slapping into Jill’s lap.

“Soooooo…” she crows, “what was thaaat about?”

Eugh.

- - -

“So what exactly was the deal with you dumping the kid in here, that’s not really like you.”

“Sam didn’t expect to have her today, she was supposed to go over to her best friends after school, but apparently they had a fight. Shortstack even punched her! Ha, didn’t know she had it in her.”

“She doesn’t seem the type.”

“Eh, that Freeman kid is a little bitch, I’m not surprised.”

“So what was the fight about?”

“Why so curious Roberts? Getting broody?”

“Eugh, shut up Reed, you’re the worst sometimes.”

#/mp #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #Jill Roberts #Kirby Reed #topic: childhood #I've been thinking about Jill. This was not the next post I wanted to make. But it's what happened. #listen if you're like those aren't symptoms of weed i don't know what to tell you they were doing other stuff out there drinking maybe too #my writing tag

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine the Ember Island Players creating a romance between you and Zuko which hits a little too close to home

You sat beside Katara and noticed how Zuko sat on the other side of her. Aang faltered, obviously wanting to sit there and you smirked as Zuko obliviously missed Aang’s look. Zuko had been with the group a few weeks now but his social skills still weren’t very good and you found it made for some very interesting interactions. His attempt at telling jokes alone made you smile every time you saw him for a full week afterwards and you found Zuko did a lot of things that amused you but apparently not so much the others. “I was going to sit there” Aang whined and Zuko shrugged “so? Just sit next to me”. Aang pouted and you laughed to yourself “here” you said standing up “take my seat Aang” and you moved so he could sit beside Katara. Katara was oblivious and you sat on the other side of Zuko chuckling at Aang’s blush. “What was that all about?” Zuko asked and you smiled “ow nothing you just almost ruined Aang’s evening”. Zuko frowned and went to ask what you meant when the lights dimmed so you knocked his arm shaking your head “i’ll tell you later now shhh”. Zuko folded his arm huffily but stopped talking. The play was wonderfully awful. As you hadn’t joined the gang straight away you knew you had time to just enjoy the first few acts and make fun of the way they portrayed all your friends. Plus what could they do to your character? You didn’t have any old flames like Katara or Sokka and you didn’t have an emotional backstory like Zuko or Aang. So you relaxed arms spread over the back of the bench and waited for *yourself* to make an appearance.

The second your actress walked on stage you knew it wouldn’t be good. They had your character all wrong! Your actress flirted with everyone and acted like a lovesick idiot. You didn’t think it could get much worse and then your character met Zuko’s.

“I’ll save you from the pirates” Zuko’s character purred to yours and you spluttered. “That...that wasn’t even me! That was Katara!” you whispered angrily. You looked to Zuko for confirmation who nodded “yeah I didn’t say that to you...and I certainly didn’t tie you up while staring at you like that”. “And I did not flirt with you like that either”. You both glared as your characters bonded and they actually invented Zuko letting you go voluntarily. As Zuko’s character stared off into the distance and said your name you heard Sokka and Suki wheezing from laughter while you simmered with anger and embarrassment. “I didn’t do that!” Zuko cried and you saw he was blushing vividly. That made you blush too and crossed your arms tightly “they better not stick with this theme”.

Of course they did. By the time act 3 had ended you and Zuko were living a star crossed lovers lifestyle in Ba Sing Sei. They again got you mixed up with Katara and said Azula kidnapped you to lure Zuko to the Earth King’s palace. The act ended with Zuko charging in to save you, offering his own life in exchange for yours, but Azula outmanoeuvred him and arrested him too. As the lights went up for intermission you and Zuko paused before exploding.

“That never even happened!”.

“I knew he was in Ba Sing Sei but we never went on a date”.

“Yeah that was a different girl”.

“And you did not fight with Jet over me”.

“I didn’t even know you knew Jet!” Zuko agreed and you both paused for air.

The gang all looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “What is so funny?” you cried and Sokka smiled. “We all know none of that stuff happened, we were there too remember?”. “Yeah so...can’t we rant?” you asked. “Well yeah but why get so mad about it? Are you trying to convince us or yourselves that the idea the two you flirted is so impossible?”. You and Zuko exploded again at the thought and Sokka and the others burst into laughter again. “All i’m saying is this is a lot of emotion to come from nowhere” Sokka smiled “now i’m going backstage so yell at each other or something” and he disappeared with Suki. Katara and Toph left for snacks and Aang went to the toilet leaving the two of you alone. “But i mean it is ridiculous” you muttered and Zuko nodded “utterly ridiculous”. “Sure we ended up together a few times” you shrugged “but that was completely by chance, it wasn’t like you were hyper-aware of me or vice versa”. “Yeah not at all” Zuko agreed but he wasn’t looking you in the eye for some reason. You stared at him confused and noticed his neck looked slightly red as if he was blushing. “Wait did you?” you asked suddenly “notice me more?”. Zuko looked up and he was indeed blushing deeply “what I....of course not! I never...I mean I did learn your name before anyone else’s but that’s because we spent that time together when I helped the pirates kidnap you and you wouldn’t shut up the whole night”. “Then why are you blushing so much?” you asked and Zuko shrugged “I don’t know I...it’s just them insinuating I like you. I’ve had it a lot”. “You have?” you asked amazed and Zuko nodded “when my uncle heard you’d seen me in Ba Sing Sei and that we’d reached a deal not to tell on one another he had this annoying smirk like i’d done it for any other reason besides the fact it was mutually beneficial. Then when I went back home Azula made it seem like me and you had a thing and Mai got jealous and started asking about you and I had to explain all our interactions and it was very awkward...she wanted me to reassure her by putting you down and making the idea seem impossible but I must have failed because she didn’t believe me. So I guess that’s why it makes me feel weird, everyone keeps telling me I act differently with you and I suppose I do but I have no idea if that’s because everyone keeps saying it or if I always have”. You nodded your head but were unsure what to say. “Well which one do you think it is?” you asked eventually and Zuko paused “what?”. “If you had to guess, would you say you act differently around me because of what people say about us or have you just always acted that way”. Zuko thought, staring at the ground and basically anywhere but at you, “i’m not sure but I guess maybe the second? They must have got it from somewhere I suppose”. “The second?” you asked surprised and Zuko’s blush returned vividly “I’m only guessing, I honestly don’t know”. You nodded your head and went to speak when the others returned which stopped you right in your tracks.  

The second half of the play began of course with you and Zuko reuniting in the prison under Ba Sing Sei. You and Zuko did end up there together but you definitely did less staring at one another. You rolled your eyes as your characters began to passionately speak to one another stepping closer and closer. They finally reached one another and you laughed when your character began yelling at Zuko’s. “Ha maybe they got some things right!” you whispered to Zuko who nodded “you did yell at me a lot”. You smirked and went to apologise when Zuko’s character kissed yours. You and Zuko abruptly shot away from each other. “That is not even close to what happened!” you cried at the others who were all laughing. Zuko nodded “this is just slander! They didn’t even bother to try to get our characters right and anyone with half a brain would realise that!”. Someone shushed Zuko and he glared “shush yourself” he cried before storming from the room. He didn’t return for the rest of the play and honestly you thought that was probably wise. It got worse and worse. They still kept in Zuko’s betrayal of Iroh but changed it making you at the centre of Zuko’s struggle. He chose the crown and they made you react dramatically (even getting a love ballad moment). They then skipped forwards to Zuko at the palace, who got his own song when he realised he’d made the wrong choice. Your characters reunited not long after and promptly confessed their love for one another. Then you were both murdered by Ozai very much in line with the tragic forbidden lovers style.

“I mean I’m just glad she’s dead” you shrugged on your way out “anything to end that romance”. The others smirked when Aang paused “do you think Zuko went back home to the villa?” looking around for the angry fire prince. “No he knows we don’t know this place well, he’s probably just sat outside somewhere” you replied looking around but you couldn’t see him brooding anywhere either. When you walked out the front door and still didn’t spot him Aang frowned “okay everyone split up and look for him, meet back here in five minutes”.

You returned five minutes later to see Katara, Suki, Sokka and Toph all hadn’t found him either. “I wonder where he is” Katara frowned and you shrugged “he’ll be fine, that boy has nine lives”. “He didn’t in that play” Toph commented and you nodded. “True but that play was a mess and there’s one thing I still can’t get over. Zuko said his family and friends thought he liked me that’s where his side of this rumour started but in the play they acted like I encouraged him! Where on earth did they get that idea?”. The group all went quiet and you paused “what?”. “Well...I mean you kinda do encourage him” Sokka frowned and your jaw dropped “I DO NOT! When have I ever...”. “When we got kidnapped by the pirates you teased Zuko constantly and refused to be quiet until he spoke to you” Katara pointed out. “Yes but that was to annoy him not flirt with him!”. “Okay how about when June asked if you were his girlfriend and you replied he wishes instead of no?”. “I was joking” you shrugged and Toph smirked “or how about when I was sneaking out to see Zuko at the Western Air Temple and found you already on your way to see him? What were you popping in to see Zuko for huh y/n? Nice date by the campfire?”. “I was doing the same thing as you! I was going to see if he would tell the truth and given that I knew him best I thought I....”. The gang all erupted and you paused “what?”. “You know him best?” Sokka asked smirking and you nodded “that doesn’t mean anything it’s a fact”. “Ow is it?” Sokka asked and you nodded “It is! Fine if I don’t know him best what was his fake name in Ba Sing Sei?”. Everyone went quiet and you nodded “or how about how long ago he was banished from the fire nation? Better yet just tell me his parent’s names!” you cried. When nobody replied you smirked folding your arms victoriously “told you I know him best”. “Yeah you’ve definitely proved how much you know about Zuko” Suki smirked looking past you. You frowned before you heard someone behind you. You turned to see Aang had found Zuko and by the look on his face he’d heard everything. You blushed and looked down “Zuko we were...”. “Having a competition to see who knows me best?” Zuko asked mildly amused and you paused “well sort of...Sokka started it”. “No I didn’t” Sokka retorted “you declared you knew Zuko the best and when I asked if you were sure you started spouting your favourite facts about him”. “They’re not my favourite facts about him” you snapped and Sokka’s smirk just grew “whatever y/n” and he turned leading the way home. The others all followed and purposefully made it so you and Zuko were at the back. “Why were you talking about me anyway?” Zuko asked and you paused “ow nothing I was just er...trying to work out why the Ember Island Players thought I had a thing for you but the gang was not helpful”. “They couldn’t think of a reason?” Zuko asked innocently and you frowned “no they could actually think of lots of reasons, it appears similar to your family they were also under the impression I held a flame for you as it were”. “Ow really?” Zuko asked. He kept his voice flat but you could swear he was smirking slightly. “Stop enjoying this” you whined pushing him “it’s not funny, it’s embarrassing”. “Liking me is embarrassing?” Zuko asked and you paused “no I didn’t mean that, I just meant having all your friends claim you like someone when you can’t see it”. “You really can’t see where they’re coming from?” Zuko asked and you shook your head “nope not at all”. Zuko looked away and you frowned “I saw that, what did that look mean?”. “Nothing...” Zuko trailed off but you sighed grabbing him by the arm to make him look at you “I’m sick of everyone saying things about me for once just say it to my face!”. Zuko sighed “fine, I just think i’ve been honest with you but you’re not being honest with yourself”. “Not being honest?”. Zuko nodded “Yes, I admitted I could see where my family were coming from and how the rumours started but you’re acting as if they plucked them out of thin air!”. “Well maybe they did! I don’t see how any of our interactions could be interpreted as romantic”. Zuko didn’t look convinced. “You don’t think there’s some truth to what the Ember Island Players said? That maybe there is something here?” Zuko asked gesturing to the small gap between you. “No of course not! Do you?”. “No” Zuko yelled back and you nodded “fine! You are the most infuriating...” you started when Zuko grabbed you kissing you. You initially tensed at the sensation but soon melted into it. Zuko seemed to be trying to prove a point by kissing you passionately and not wanting him to win you kissed him back matching his intensity. Finally Zuko pulled away for air and stared at you “still not want to admit there’s something here?”. You stared at Zuko torn between admitting he was right and your pride. You were annoyed, frustrated, excited and exhilarated all at once. You were breathing rapidly, your cheeks bright red as were Zuko’s and neither of you made to move away. “I...” you started eventually “that was a good kiss”. Zuko nodded, his frustration melting away “it was, I enjoyed it...I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to kiss you for a while now”. “You have?” you asked and Zuko nodded “as annoying as it is to admit my family and friends were right, I like you and I have for a while”. You smiled despite yourself at how adorable Zuko looked all bashful and embarrassed. “I tried ignoring it for a while but then when I joined the group your friends all saw it straight away. Then tonight...the play was bad but I was frustrated that everyone seemed to see it apart from you the person I actually wanted to see it...you”. You looked down wondering how to reply “I’m sorry I bet that was really frustrating”. Zuko nodded “It was and I figured this was just one-sided but that...did you feel it too?”. Zuko looked so unsure and unlike himself it was endearing and gave you confidence. “Yes” you said shakily “after that kiss I can tell you it is definitely not one-sided. I like you too Zuko and probably have since the start”. “Probably?” Zuko asked and you sighed “I’m not good with my emotions, I can be oblivious to them so I can’t with certainty tell you it’s been going on as long as the play made it out to be but I know I like you. Right now in this moment...I hope that’s enough, I know it’s a shit confession and you probably wanted something more solid but I...”. Zuko began laughing and you paused “what’s so funny?”. “Something more solid? Y/n I’m on the run from the Firelord who is my father, my sister is hunting me to kill me and I could very likely be imprisoned for the rest of my life if Aang fails and that’s if i’m lucky...I’m not even sure if I have a future so trust me all I need is the present. To know in this moment right here you like me back” Zuko blushed but he stepped closer and took your hands “that’s more than enough for me”. “It is?” you asked and Zuko nodded “yes and if by some chance it becomes more long-term I’ll be very happy but for now I just want to enjoy this time with you”. You smiled and leant in to kiss Zuko again when someone coughed. “Hey what are you two doing?” Sokka called. Apparently the others had finally realised the two of you were no longer with the group and walked back to find the two of you as you currently were. Luckily it was dark so you moved away from Zuko but still held his hand. “Yeah we thought you’d gotten lost are you okay?” Katara called. Zuko sighed and you smirked at his expression. “We’re fine” you smiled “we were just talking and Zuko’s going to show me this beach he went to a lot as a kid”. Zuko’s eyes shot up to yours and he smiled. “You are?” Aang asked and Zuko nodded “yep, it’s not far from here so we won’t be long. You guys head back to the villa and we’ll meet you there” and with that Zuko tugged you away from the others. You smiled at Zuko and he smiled back at you “quick thinking, I didn’t think we’d get out of there so easily”. “You can thank me later” you replied when you heard Sokka gasp “wait are they holding hands? Y/n are you holding hands?”. “Run!” Zuko cried and you laughed but did as he said. You kept running even after Sokka’s voice trailed off and only stopped when you reached a sandy beach. You both collapsed on the ground and you turned to look at Zuko “did you know this was here or did you get lucky?”. “Totally the former” he smiled and you shook your head “you’re lucky I like you”. “I really am” Zuko agreed and he stared at your face tenderly. His fingers brushed your cheek and you smiled “what are you waiting for?”. “I have no idea” Zuko admitted and he leant in to reclaim the lost kiss from earlier. This time you weren’t interrupted.

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #atla #atla imagine #atla zuko #prine zuko #prince zuko x reader #ember islands #fire nation #aang #sokka #katara #suki #toph #prince zuko #azula #ozai #iroh #mai #avatar zuko #avatar ember island players

[thebeautyoffanfics]

TBHK boys get break up pranked by reader ?angst to fluff please!!😢👉👈

kou minamoto x gn!reader, teru minamoto x gn!reader, akane aoi x gn!reader, tsuchigomori x gn!reader, hanako x gn!reader, tsukasa yugi x gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader

a/n: heck yea, we love angst to fluff!!!! Thank you so much for requesting <33 (also, by tbhk boys, i just kinda,,, threw my favorites, and some characters that seem to be requested fairly often in there! If i missed anyone you particularly wanted to see, feel free to let me know, and i’ll gladly add them <3)

Also, I’m sorry that these are so short,,;; i’m not entirely sure how to lengthen them;;;; and I’m not sure how well they fit into angst to fluff,,,, i’m really sorry;;;

warnings: none <3

word count: 1,939

Kou Minamoto <3

“Kou, I… I’m sorry, I don’t think it’s going to work between us. I think we should break up.”

Please, don’t make me describe his face… please, don’t do this to me… my heart, my heart hurts just thinking about it. But- his heart hurts worse.

His eyes will widen, but they won’t be filled with the usual sparkle of joy he gets when looking at you. His usual smile and blush will quickly drain from his face, as he narrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“H… huh-?”

“You heard me, Kou. Don’t make me say it again.”

He does his best not to cry on the spot, and you’ll instantly start to feel guilty. You try not to let the guilt get under your skin just yet- it’s a prank. You know it’s a prank, but Kou doesn’t.

“Why? What- what did I do?”

“It’s nothing you did, Kou. We just… can’t work out. Really, it isn’t you.”

His mouth forms a straight line, slightly panicking, but he’ll nod. That… makes sense. No- no, it really doesn’t- not for your relationship. You seemed happy, didn’t you? Did he say something? Did he hurt you? What happened-??

“No, wait, Kou, no- don’t cry, don’t cry-”

“I’m not! No worries, (Y/N), it’s fine, I’ll-”

“It’s a prank, Kou! Please, don’t cry-”

He’d pause, blinking a bit, then tilting his head slightly- confusion written all over his face.

It settled in for a moment, as you hugged him, Kou hugging back instantly. Once it clicked, he was instantly relieved, tightening the hug a bit and huffing.

“You scared me, (Y/N)... I wasn’t crying though. But you did scare me- please, don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Kou, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise!”

Teru Minamoto <3

“I’m sorry, Teru, but I don’t think things can work between us anymore. It’s not you, I just… think we should see other people.”

He’ll raise his eyebrows, then narrow them, confusion evident on his face, much like his brother reacted. He wouldn’t lose his cool- he wouldn’t get emotional. However, he did feel his heart aching.

“Ah… alright. I’m sorry if I did anything, (Y/N). Is there any way we could make things work? Talk to me.”

“You didn’t do anything, Teru. I just- I just don’t think it can work. Sorry.”

Teru bit his lip a bit, nodding. He turned, planning to walk away, but-

But you wouldn’t let him walk away :)) so, you grabbed his wrist.

He’d turn around, offering you a confused expression, the hurt still evident on his face. Honestly, he really needed to get home to sort out his emotions. “If you would, please, let go, (Y/N).”

“Sorry, sorry, Teru! Can’t do that!” You chirped, tugging him a bit so he’d face you.

Our boy is so confused- why are you suddenly in a better mood??

OH-

“It was a prank!” You declared, tossing your hands up, “don’t be mad, please!”

Teru sighed, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness, (Y/N). I was so scared… of course, I wasn’t about to let you go that easily, but, still-”

He pulled you into a hug, resting his head on top of yours. Expect a slightly more affectionate Teru- he’s gonna be a tad bit paranoid now. No way is anyone gonna take you from him >:((

Akane Aoi <3

“Akane, I think we should… break up.”

Panic. Instant panic. You can see the panic on his face immediately, as his eyes widen.

No, no way. This couldn’t be happening to him- years of pining after Aoi, only to have you introduced into his life. You were someone he loved as dearly as he did Aoi. Someone who returned his feelings.

Having you love him was the best feeling ever… this, on the other hand, was anything but nice.

“Break up-? Why??”

He’ll reach for your arms, heart breaking when you stepped back, looking away from him. To him, you were looking away because you felt bad for having to split up. In reality, you were looking away to avoid the guilt slowly bubbling up in your stomach. It’s a prank- that’s what you had to tell yourself. In just a few moments you could hug him and smother his precious face in kisses.

“Because… you’re,” You stepped forward, booping his nose, “too cute!”

“........(Y/N), I promise you, if this is a prank-”

“It’s a prank~!”

Akane groaned, rolling his eyes, but placing his head against your shoulder. “(Y/NNNNN), honestlyyyyy.”

You patted his back, then wrapped your arms around him, kissing the side of his face gently. “I’m sorry, Akaneeee...”

“You’re fine…” He responded, wrapping his arms around you. He may sulk just a tiny bit, but he won’t be like that for long. By the next day, he’ll be acting normal- though he may use that prank against you lightheartedly.

Tsuchigomori <3

“Tsuchigomori… I’m sorry, but I think we should see other people,” You spoke. Goodness knows you had to put all of your acting skills into this one, since Tsuchigomori could see through lies easier than anyone else you knew.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” “(Y/N), you literally cannot keep secrets from me. Lying is no different. What kind of prank is this? A trend?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair- your reaction brought a grin to your spider-like boyfriend’s face.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sure I would have been fairly hurt if you were being genuine, so… don’t bother with jokes like that.”

(Actually, there was a part of him concerned that you were being honest. But! He trusted his instincts, praying that you were just joking. He had never been happier to tell truth from lies.)

Hanako <3

“Hanako… I’m sorry, I don’t think things will work between us. We should break up.”

“Hah?”

A million thoughts run through his mind, despite his somewhat unreadable expression. Was it because he was dead? Of course- he knew it would happen. Who would be willing to date a ghost? A murderer at that. He was unlovable. He knew it.

“...I understand, (Y/N), but… don’t play with my heart like that.”

“I’m not playing around, Hanako. Stop taking everything like it’s a joke.”

Hanako shrugged, ignoring how his heart ached. “I think the joke is you not considering things like the obvious before you accepted my confession. Dating a supernatural is clearly not easy, and you walked into this knowing that.”

This time, you were the one with an unreadable expression. What… did he mean? Was he scolding you? Or… rejecting your rejection-?

“What do you mean?” You sighed, faking annoyance as you placed a hand on your hip.

“I mean, you got yourself into this relationship, so you should be willing to stick with it until the end~. I get it though, so, if you really didn’t think that far, then so be it-”

“Fine, I give in.”

Hanako raised his eyebrows, holding a hand to his mouth, curious as to what you were about to say. Did he really just uno reverse your break up?

“It was aaaaaa prank,” You added, pulling your lower eyelid down and sticking your tongue out. It was impressive- you almost seemed similar to him! Impressive indeed!

Hanako grinned, the pain on his heart being suddenly lifted as he basically tackled you into a hug. Kisses were placed against your cheek, before he nuzzled the side of his face into yours.

“I knew you couldn’t do me like that, (Y/NNNN)~.”

Did he really know that? Of course not. And that fear would never leave him, worrying that he would one day not be enough for you. But! For now, the two of you were together, happy in the relationship you were in. That was enough for him <3

Tsukasa Yugi <3

“We should break up, Tsukasa. I’m really sorry, it just… can’t work.”

Won’t let you break up with him. He won’t- he genuinely won’t.

Clings to you, pouting up at you, as you look down at him, feigning sadness.

“I’m sorry, Tsukasa- please, let go of me.”

“Nope! You’re mine, (Y/N). You can’t break up with me!! You’re mine- forever and ever, no matter what!”

(His expression was wide-eyed and somewhat innocent, but thinking about his words… they were certainly questionable.)

You tried to play along a bit more. Telling him you were serious, attempting to push him away. But, that was to no avail. Tsukasa wasn’t giving in, so you eventually had to-

“Alright, alright. It was a prank, Tsukasa… though I guess it didn’t get far with you.”

“Haha! Nope! And you won’t get far either <3”

“Huh?”

“Hm?”

Honestly? Who knows what that meant. You didn’t get it, and you couldn’t be sure Tsukasa understood either. All he knew was he loved you- therefore, he wouldn’t let you do something so silly like break up with him! Like Tsuchigomori, he's virtually impossible to break-up prank- like Hanako, he's virtually impossible to actually break up with.

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

“I… I think we should break up, Mitsuba. It’s not you, really-”

“Tch. Of course it isn’t me, idiot,” Mitsuba interrupted. He wasn’t there to listen to the extent of your acting skills (though he didn’t realize you were acting). “If you’re gonna split up with me, just get it over with. We should break up? Fine. Not like a pervert like you deserves someone as cute and pure as me anyway.”

Despite his words and furrowed eyebrows, his eyes alone showed how heartbroken he felt. His lower lip trembled a bit, though he attempted to stop it by pouting. No, he wouldn’t be the one crying in this situation! Not yet, at least-

“Great then. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You retorted, laughing bitterly. Ahh, no, this was getting too real for him- you were serious, weren’t you? Could this be a joke?

Mmh, who cared? Mitsuba was here to defend himself, even if it was at the cost of your feelings. If you were going to hurt his heart like that, then he’d do his best to take a jab at yours- or at least your ego.

“Great. Then, why are you lingering? Getting a last look at my cute face?”

“Hm… yeah-”

“Pervert.”

“Excuse mE, let me finish,” You sighed, ruffling his hair lightly, “surprise! It’s a prank!”

His face was honestly golden- his reaction to hearing that it was a prank even better than his reaction when the prank was in action. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, though watering just barely from the previous aching in his heart, mouth agape slightly.

Then, his eyebrows furrowed deeper, displaying anger. The way his shoulders sank for a moment showed his relief, though they tensed up quickly, as he prepared himself to yell at you. “Idiot! Pervert! Who do you think you are, trying to play with my heart like that?! What right do you have to-”

You cut him off by cupping his face, pouting slightly- his face burned as he avoided eye contact, hand raised slightly as if contemplating pushing you away. It was clear he didn’t really want you to stop though.

“Sorry, sorry~. I just wanted to get a reaction out of you, Mitsuba. You’ve got very cute reactions, you know?”

“Hmph. You sound like you’re quoting porn-”

“Mention porn one more time and the prank won’t be a prank anymore-”

“Liar. Idiot. Stupid pervert, you’re a liar.”

You laughed lightly, squishing his face as you closed your eyes. “Maybe I’m a tad bit of a liar. But, when you pretend to not be upset, I’m sure you’re lying as well~.”

“Hah. I don’t lie.”

#anon #request #headcanons #kou minamoto #teru minamoto #akane aoi #tsuchigomori #hanako #tsukasa yugi #mitsuba sousuke #x reader #gn!reader #x gn!reader #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #kou minamoto x reader #teru minamoto x reader #akane aoi x reader #tsuchigomori x reader #hanako x reader #tsukasa yugi x reader #mitsuba sousuke x reader #kou minamoto headcanons #teru minamoto headcanons

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

#peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[phoenixyfriend]

Vader Tries to Help

People encouraged me to share the dead dove concept! Yay! It’s a horrible concept with an undertone of comedic absurdity in the sense that you keep waiting to see what awful, incredibly stupid thing Vader is going to do next. Like it’s horrifying but it’s also very dumb.

By moving forward into the fic, you acknowledge that this is intended to be dark and liable to be upsetting, and that you are taking responsibility for your own engagement with the material.

This AU was helped along on discord by several parties but tbh I’m not sure how many of them actually want to be named.

Warnings: Mutual Extremely Dubious Consent (forced by a third party), drugging, irrational behavior (Vader), nonconsensual body modification, forced pregnancy, imprisonment, threatened torture of a child (not followed through on)

----------

Vader captures Obi-Wan a few years into the Empire. Because Vader is Anakin, but even worse on the emotional bullshit, he decides that he needs to keep Obi-Wan safe but harmless. Vader also got Luke in the whole 'capturing Kenobi' situation, so part of what Vader's thinking about all this is that Obi-Wan tried to protect The Baby and so Vader kind of owes him, obviously.

Palpatine lets him keep Obi-Wan "safe," because threatening Obi-Wan is a convenient way to make Vader shut up and do what he's told. Palpatine can kind of tell that threatening the toddler would make Vader lose his shit and attempt to kill good ol' Palps, so threatening the middle-aged depressed alcoholic being kept in Vader's guest room with Force-nullifying cuffs is pretty good. It's an additional layer of emotional torture on top of the electrocution of Vader himself!

Vader has Obi-Wan taking care of Luke, mostly, because Vader has Obligations and A Job, and Obi-Wan wouldn't hurt Luke, duh. He might try to escape with the kid, but he won't be successful, and Obi-Wan will definitely put Luke's safety first, so that probably won't happen.

This is all fairly normal for a variety of AUs, granted, and not very dark.

But see, Obi-Wan behaves. He's aware of how tenuous the situation is for him and his charge, so he plays nice. And Vader decides to reward that.

By giving him Cody.

There's an implied thought process there that Obi-Wan was fond of Cody, and Cody was fond back, and now that the Jedi aren't around, they can follow through instead of worrying about some silly Code. Vader's nullified the orders to kill all the Jedi, of course, possibly dosed their food with an aphrodisiac so they don't try to talk themselves out of What They Obviously Want.

Now, we’re going to make it a little darker, because why not make things worse by having Vader try to make things better?

Vader somehow twisted himself around to encouraging them to have a baby. This is accomplished through a combination of Sith Magic and nonconsensual surgery, and lots of questionable drugs.

Obi-Wan just wakes up in a hospital bed with a womb one morning, and is informed of the surgery then and there, after it’s already happened. The droid telling him about it is just like "in the Lord Vader's infinite kindness--" and Obi-Wan just.

Anakin.

What the fuck.

What in the actual fuck made you think this was a good idea.

(The Sith Chemicals, probably.)

I feel like Palpatine would maybe even order the pregnancy induction just to torture them by proxy because that's like eight levels of Fuck No and he barely has to do anything except tell Vader that he'd like to see what kind of children a Jedi Master like Obi-Wan has.

Luke needs friends, doesn't he?

Obi-Wan is having some very complicated emotions about all of this because Vader is, in his own absolutely insane way, trying to help.

Anakin wanted babies and Padme wanted babies so clearly, if Obi-Wan and Cody are in love, then they also want babies!

Cody and Obi-Wan very well might not be in love. Anakin definitely could have misinterpreted. It’s probably more angsty if they're just friends who ended up in this bullshit together.

(He's taking baby fever to new and somewhat horrifying heights, because... he would adore Obi's kids.)

(His family button is suprisingly large for a mass murderer.)

Vader Kindly Informs Bail That Obi-Wan Is Alive And Unharmed. Bail was a friend of Obi-Wan's, telling him this is only helpful and will keep Alderaan from getting more rebellious out of personal insult. Obviously.

Vader is almost offended when Bail implies he might hurt Obi-Wan. He kept his son safe, he owes him. Speaking of, don’t you have a child? How old is she, again? It would be Good for her to make friends, wouldn’t it? :)

Palpatine is just like... sitting back and eating evil popcorn as Vader runs around, ruining people's lives by trying to be less of The Worst than before.

Palps barely has to do anything, Anakin's fucking it up on his own!

Could have been just a sly "Kenobi is so attached to young Luke, but now that you've been reunited with your son, perhaps he'd be happier with a child of his own?" Come at it from both "make Obi-Wan happy" and "protect your relationship with Luke" angles.

Vader: I can't have babies anymore due to what you did to me on Mustafar. Obi-Wan: So you're punishing me by forcing me to have them instead? Vader: No! Children are a gift that you have been cruelly denied by the Order that held us in its chains! Obi-Wan: ...oh, right, you're insane. Forgot about that. Somehow.

Big dramatic speech about how the Jedi Order spent so long making them take lives, he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to create it! To put something good and bright into the world!

Poor Cody is like. "General, I am very fond of you but I'm having a million panic attacks at the same time because of the mind control, and also Vader is under the impression that we're in love and I need to be your stud? I wasn't aware you could have children--" "I can't. Or at least, I couldn't, but Anakin is... creative." "...what."

I don't want to actually objectify Cody in the narrative past the point that Obi-Wan himself is, because nnnnngh racism and clone stuff, so I'm going to say Cody was in love with Obi-Wan, and would have been okay with at least discussing the whole baby schtick if not for the absolutely horrible circumstances.

Like if the war had ended normally, and Obi-Wan had expressed a desire to retire, unlikely as that was, then Cody may have suggested a dinner, and they could have gotten married and then eventually adoption...

(Cody had a lot of fantasies he didn’t let himself think about too hard.)

But no. It's this... weird Vader-inspired bullshit.

I'm just so invested in Vader trying to help but making things legitimately a million times worse.

He wants to help :) Oh god, he wants to help.

Why aren't people more appreciative of how hard I'm helping them? - the Anakin Skywalker story

With less time to stew and also getting handed what he wants, Vader could absolutely flip on a dime the second he saw Luke being protected, and go from “I hate you” to remembering that Obi-Wan said he loved him, and now he must keep Obi-Wan safe out of debt and he just... he’s playing house. 

Vader throws Obi-Wan a baby shower after the pregnancy is confirmed. Bail is invited, because Obi-Wan doesn't have a lot of friends still alive. Vader decides Bail is top of the Obi-Wan’s Friends List.

This is the first time they've seen each other in two years. Obi-Wan is heavily pregnant despite Bail knowing full well he didn't have the plumbing for that before the Empire rose. Cody is there and emotionally exhausted but more lucid than most troopers. Luke is running up to Leia because New Friend!!!

....there may be MORE of the 212th and 501st at the baby shower, with “kill all Jedi” orders revoked, of course. But it will keep the children safe!! And Cody and Obi-Wan can see their surviving friends!!

Cody: I'd be much happier to see my surviving troopers if they didn't all still have chips in their heads. Obi-Wan: I feel much the same. Vader: [404 error]

Bail and his family might be there at blaster point, but aren't you happy to see them, Obi-Wan??

Obi-Wan's endless trauma is honestly somewhat curtailed by the incessant need to facepalm at Vader’s bullshit

Obi-Wan and Cody both outwardly have a very "there are much worse people I could be stuck with in this situation but obviously I wish I'd had a choice, no hard feelings" attitude at each other.

Internally, Cody is suffering because this is NOT how he wanted his crush to be realized, and Obi-Wan is just suffering, period.

Cody: How did he even choose which of us ends up pregnant? Obi-Wan: He thinks I need to be protected, and that he needs to keep me safe. Cody: ...he does realize that you're better at-- Obi-Wan: Cody, he's completely lost it. No! He doesn't realize!

I feel like over the course of the year or two this plot unravels towards Palpatine getting murder-deposed and Anakin getting locked down, part of the driving force to Vader not being Vader anymore is that Luke actually really loves Uncle Obi and always starts fussing and going "Ben's sad" whenever Vader dismisses what Obi-Wan wants in favor of what Vader thinks Obi-Wan wants, and Vader can't deny his child anything.

Luke cries because Palpatine Feels Wrong like, once or twice, and Anakin goes “oh, okay, assassination time.”

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #Commander Cody #Codywan #Darth Vader #Bail Organa #star wars #dubcon #situational dubcon #nonconsensual surgery #medical abuse tw #forced pregnancy tw #nonconsensual body modification #Vader Tries to Help AU #Phoenix Posts #dead dove do not read #dead dove

[vgilantee]

i'm right here {simon kalivoda}

requested by anon

word count: 1.8k

a/n: a large chunk of this was hand written on various a6 pieces of paper while i was at work, or when i was in the middle of a lecture, i won't lie. (if i miss any warnings please let me know!)

warnings: blood, nightmare/night terror

pronouns: [none used], petnames 'baby' and 'sweetheart' used

You ran until your legs were arching, lungs pinching as you desperately sucked in the frigid night air. With every step, you were physically closer to the building, but it never seemed any nearer. There was a light on in one of the downstairs windows which, especially for the hour, was strange, but you didn’t care. He was behind you, running at the same pace, a game of cat and mouse, one where the cat never drew closer, but never fell behind.

You opened your mouth to let out a scream, hoping to alert the occupants of the house that you were there and needed help. But instead, you let out a garbled cough, spitting up blood as you did. Bringing up a hand to wipe away some of the blood from your mouth, you were met with more. It was darker, some of it dried. The adrenaline thundering through your system had you all but forget about the wound in your side.

You let out a sob, before trying to scream again. The noise that followed was loud and bone-chilling, and for a second you didn’t realise that you had made it.

Another light flicked on in the house, this one upstairs, and you let out a sigh in relief that quickly became a sob.

At the new light, the literal sliver of hope that peeked through the gap in the curtains, you got a second wind, another burst of energy, and you pushed to sprinting harder and faster than you had all night. And finally, the house seemed to draw closer.

But the heavy footsteps behind you didn’t seem to get any further away. In fact they-

A tiny dip in the ground, the smallest of inconsistencies in the dirt, but it was enough to catch you, your ankle rolling out, and with all the momentum that you had built up, you crashed into the ground with a roll. The angle you landed on had to have been bad, because up through the ankle that rolled to the knee, and in the opposite wrist, was a sharp, shooting pain. Another scream, not as loud but just as haunting as the pain seared through.

“No!” Your voice was hoarse and wet with tears and blood. “No, no, no, no, no.” You begged as you tried to scramble to your feet. But your knee couldn’t support your weight, so you crawled. Fingers digging into the rough dirt in hopes for purchase, you dragged yourself forward. Your wrists screamed with every pull, your leg protested with every kick, and you were vaguely aware of the blood dripping from your nose. And through the roaring of blood in your ears, you could only just hear the sounds of the footsteps of your soon-to-be murdering closing in.

A hand wrapped around your injured ankle as you kicked out, and gave you a sturdy tug. Your fingers dug in further to stop the man from pulling you to a halt and you screamed again, ignoring the feeling of your nails struggling to grip.

There was a dull thump noise before another hand dug its fingers into your side and in a fluid motion, rolled you onto your back. In a single, harsh motion, he dropped so his knees hit the hard ground on either side of you, all his weight on your knees and shins, and you screamed at both the weight, and the way your knees bent back to press flush to the grass beneath you, and your already aching leg flared with a new pain. You desperately clawed at his hands, his arms, his face, but he ignored your nails pulling at his flesh. The attempt at defence was weak, not only because the digging and pulling of your nails was ignored, but because even if you did manage to get him off of you, you would still be completely unable to run.

“Please! No!” It was pointless to beg, especially when it was obvious that your pleas were falling on deaf ears. He let out a growl, inhuman and shuddering, and you let yourself cry and sob freely. Between the flailing of your own hands trying to push him away, and his hands grabbing at you, you were finally able to see the man who had been chasing you. His features were vague, looking almost smeared. As if someone dragged a paintbrush through a wet painting. His strong nose was pushed to the side with a blur, and his mouth was only defined by his snarling teeth. But his eyes. His eyes were terrifying. Like the rest of his face, the outlines of his eyes were blurred, undefined, but the eyes themselves were defined, a stark contrast. The whites were crisp and bloodshot, and his pupils were so blown that his already dark irises were almost black. There was nothing behind his eyes, no indication of anything human left, but they glared at you with complete concentration. There was a pause, a split second where you were distracted by how clear his eyes were, and that pause allowed him to grab your wrists in his large and bloodied hands.

“No! Please!”You twisted your wrists, trying to break free, but he had the advantage and pulled your hands under his knees, flattening them and pinning you down. You screamed again as you felt the bones shift and crack under his weight. With your hands crushed under his knees and you completely unable to fight back, he grabbed the axe from where it had been dropped to his side.

“Please!” He moved slowly, readjusting his grip so that the axe was held firmly in both hands. As the axe swung down, another hand met your shoulder, one that was warm and familiar. The hand gave you a firm shake and your eyes flew open as the pressure of the man sitting on your legs and hands disappeared.

You squinted, trying to adjust your eyes to the darkness of the room. You took shallow breaths, as you scrambled to sit up, expecting there to be pain from the various injuries you had collected. Instead, there was nothing. No pain, bar a scratch in your throat.

“Hey.” Beside you, a soft and very concerned voice caught your attention. Simon. He shuffled closer to you, cautiously to avoid further starling you. You whip your head to face him, and only when you tried to make eye contact with your very concerned boyfriend did you realise that your eyes were still very full of tears. You hastily wiped them away, still on edge.

“Simon?” Your mind was still a little fuzzy, in that in-between state when you wake up from a vivid dream. With the little visibility you had in the room from the streetlight outside, you could see him shift closer and raise his hand. All his movements were slow, as to not startle you in your clearly on edge state. Gently, he ran a thumb under each of your eyes, getting rid of the tears that were beginning to dry in their place on your cheeks.

“I’m right here, baby.” You hiccupped before rolling into his chest, fists curling up in front of you. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, rubbing slow circles on your back as you shook. Every time you closed your eyes again to squeeze out any tears that fought to stay, you could see his face again. The cold eyes determined to kill you. The dirty, bloodied hands white-knuckling the axe as it swung down to meet your skull. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of Simon resting his lips on the top of your head, but quickly relaxed even further into him.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe.” His words were warm against your head, and he pulled you closer to him. “You don’t have to tell me about it, but just know that I’m here, with you. I’ll keep you safe.” He pressed a kiss to your head between every sentence, and you gave him a small, feather-light kiss to his chest in gratitude.

Eventually, your breathing slowed and you stopped shaking, and Simon would have thought you had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the occasional kiss you placed on his chest, just above his heart. He pulled back and you looked up at him with bleary eyes. His eyes softened even further and he leaned forward again to kiss you on the forehead.

“Better?” You gave a small nod in reply, rubbing your eyes with the ball of your palm. “Sleep?” You shook your head, nod ready to go back to sleep yet.

“Dunno if I can.” You moved your arms from being curled up in his chest, to wrap around his back.

“That bad?” That was something you cherished about Simon. With a few words, he could communicate with and understand you like nobody else. He could read you like a book and you, him.

“It was the curse.” You nodded slightly as you spoke, eyes watering as the vivid memory of the nightmare resurfaced again.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He gives you a light squeeze, his voice breaking. It had been a couple of years since you had helped Deena break the Shadyside curse, but trauma is trauma, and no matter how long ago it was, those few days were ingrained in you.

“I know, I know.” Your tone was defeated, said like an apology for bothering Simon or waking him up again. He stops you from continuing your thought with a hand placed on your cheek.

“It’s okay, I promise.” It wasn’t like Simon hadn’t woken you up in the middle of the night, thrashing with night terrors and memories that were too dark to talk about with anyone else. But you still had that guilt. You always felt bad when you woke him up with your own screaming and thrashing. It was worse in the beginning. When the memories were fresher and it was still on the news. You could barely sleep a full night, and Simon was the same. So when you started sharing a bed, there wasn’t a night for months where the pair of you got a full nights rest.

The nightmares were less common now, but the guilt of waking him up never left.

“I love you.” You said it softly, whispering them to him as the room began to slowly light up with the sunrise.

“I love you too.” Simon broke out into a goofy smile, still in disbelief that you did really love him. “And I’ll be here, always. Through every nightmare and early morning, I promise.” He pulled you down slightly so that you were laying in bed again, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms pulled you close. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, not when your cruel brain kept showing you the image of the man with an axe. So instead you and Simon talked in hushed voices, as if trying to avoid waking the air, and watched as your room slowly warmed up with the orange tones of the early morning.

#simon kalivoda x reader #fear street simon x reader #fear street simon kalivoda x reader #fear street x reader #char writes

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.  

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

                                                  ***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him, 

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand,  awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

                                 Chapter 21 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer #reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #twisted

[aomine-ryo]

Please do a scenario for the GOM reacting to their figure skater gf. Thank you 💜 I love your blog btw, its nice to see that the knb fandom is still alive. My heart is patiently waiting for a season 4 huhuhu 😭

Omg i will die if there’s ever a season 4. Also this was such a cute idea and I made Kise’s one so long and tbh it’s a concept for a wholeass fic lmao. Anyways, hope you like it xx

Scenario: GOM with a figure skater s/o

Kise

You and Kise had only been dating for a few weeks so there was still so much to learn about each other. Everyday there was something new that he learned about you that made him fall in love with you more and more. Even the smallest little things about you sparked his interest. Just the other day, he had a whole moment when he found out you liked the same cereal as he did.

Of course, him finding out you did figure skating elicited a bigger reaction from him than just liking the same cereal. It was just another Tuesday for you when your school day finally approached it’s end. Just you were heading out the school gates, you spotted your boyfriend standing and waving with a big smile on his face.

“Ryouta!” you squealed as you ran into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you questioned, not used to seeing him here since he was in a different school.

“I came to surprise my lovely girlfriend and invite her on a date of course,” he replied sweetly.

“Oh,” you said, your smile faltering as your shoulders dropped in evident disappointment. “I appreciate it, but I actually have practice today.”

“Practice?” Kise furrowed his brows. “Practice for what?”

“I have figure skating practice today. I usually head to the rink after sch—“

“You figure skate?” Kise exclaimed rather loudly; you were quite sure the whole street heard him.

“Yeah I do,” you giggled at his excitement.

“Y/N-cchi, how come you never told me? Can I watch your practice?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“You really want to watch? It can get a bit boring,” you asked.

“Of course I want to watch!” he beamed as he took your hand in his. “Lead the way.”

Grabbing a snack from a grocery store on the way, the two of you headed to the rink, where your coach was waiting for you.

“Woah, you get this while place to yourself?” Kise said breathlessly when you entered the chilly arena with skates in one hand and Kise’s palm in the other.

“Sometimes other people train here too, but today seems like it’s just me,” you shrugged.

You and Kise moved to the stands so you could get your skates on before you got onto the ice. After warming up for a bit, your coach went over your usual drills before you began to rehearse your routine that you were practicing for an upcoming competition.

Meanwhile, Kise was watching you wait nothing but intrigue in his amber eyes. Even while you were just doing your exercises, he found you absolutely graceful. Needless to say, when he finally saw the routine, he was over the moon. He had to hold himself back from hooting and cheering during it in case that threw you off. He was so excited in fact, that he had moved from his seat in the stands to the area right by the rink so he could get a closer look. His eyes never left you for even a moment.

Once your practice was over, you skated over to the edge where Kise was bent over the rails. “Well, boring isn’t it?” You said to him.

“Are you kidding me? You’re mesmerising! My Y/N-cchi is so talented,” he said, stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

Caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice your coach make his way over to you two. “You must be Kise,” he said, holding his hand out for the blonde to shake.

“Yes I am. Y/N-cchi’s been talking about me, haven’t you?” Kise inferred, throwing you a cheeky grin.

“Y/N’s mentioned you a fair few times,” your coach chuckled. “It’s your first time here isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” Kise nodded.

“Well, Y/N seems to do much better when you’re here. You should visit more often,” your coach said, making you want to crawl in a hole out of embarrassment.

“Is that so? I’ll do that for sure,” Kise laughed. “I was thinking that I should pick up ice skating too— just casually though.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, we could do a routine together if you’re up for it. Let me get the basics down first though,” Kise suggested.

“I can give you a few pointers if you need any. If I think your routine is good enough, maybe I’ll enter you two in a competition,” your coach said.

You were excited now; Kise was a quick learner so there was no doubt that you’d be practicing with him in no time.

A few months went by and Kise was attending almost all of your practices with you. He’d gotten quite good at it too— there were still a few falls that were absolutely hilarious because he’d whine every time, but for the most part he was much better than most amateurs.

Your coach was very amused by his progress too. “A basketball player and a figure skater in one— you don’t see that often,” he’d chuckle.

Figure skating was never something Kise saw himself doing. But looking at how beautiful you looked when you skated, an eagerness was lit up in him. No matter how hard he’d practice, he knew he’d never match up to you. There was something about the way you moved so gracefully that made him feel like whatever he attempted was inferior. He wasn’t complaining though— he was doing this for fun after all. Plus getting to see you move like that was a privilege enough.

Moreover, skating with you allowed him to spend even more time with you, and that time only increased when you two got serious about your routine as partners. Neither of you were expecting to win the competition, but you were certainly having fun in the process.

Eventually the day came where you were in an official arena with Kise. Sliding onto the ice with someone was a strange feeling as someone who was used to competing individually. In a way, it was reassuring. Kise held your hand tight as you got into position in the centre of the rink.

“Ryouta, I’m actually kinda nervous,” you muttered to him.

Honey eyes looked at you softly as your hand was squeezed even tighter. “Don’t be— I’m here with you, every step of the way,” he whispered. “Besides, you can’t possibly look worse than me.”

You felt the tension ease a little as you let out a giggle. “If we go down we go down together, I guess,” you shrugged, the idea bringing you a strange comfort.

“Exactly,” Kise smiled. He looked to the side and spotted the technician giving you two a thumbs up. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

Kise nodded in confirmation before letting go of your hand and getting into position. “We got this.”

Midorima

Midorima loves you; he loves everything you do. Even if you murdered someone, he’d probably still love you (though he’d probably scold you while he helps you hide the body— but let’s not get into the specifics of that). Needless to say, he absolutely adored watching you skate.

Midorima is a busy person though, so it’s hard for him to find time to watch you as much as he’d like. Every time he did get the chance though, he was absolutely mesmerised, as though he was experiencing it for the first time all over again.

He’d never forget the first time he saw you skate though. You’d just begun dating and you had a competition that you invited him to. He wanted to meet up with you before it started, but his basketball practice ran on for longer than he expected. For a moment, he thought he’d miss it all together, but after a quick train ride and a lot of running, he made it just in time for your slot.

Admittedly, Midorima was really unfamiliar with figure skating. He told himself that he’d read into it since you were a skater yourself, but he never got the chance to. He made his way into the crowded stands and found himself a seat, feeling rather out of place considering he was still in his bright orange tracksuit. He didn’t dwell on it for too long though because his attention was quickly drawn to the ice that you were gliding onto.

For a fleeting moment, his jaw dropped. You looked gorgeous. The confidence you seemed to have as you got into position was a side of you he’d never seen before. It was like a different person altogether. Your name was announced in the speakers, eliciting a cheer from the crowd following by a small chatter that snapped him out of his trance for a moment. The music began to play and the crowd died down as all eyes were on you.

Right off the bat, you moved with purpose. Blades gliding on the sleek ice with such grace as your body swayed to the music. The moment you landed your first triple axel, Midorima was sure of it— this was your element. Completely lost in your routine, Midorima’s breath was taken away. And when it finally ended with a loud cheer from the crowd, he was left amazed. When his horoscope placed Cancer in first that day, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky to see something this gorgeous, but here he was.

He quickly rushed down the stands to meet up with you the moment he pulled himself together. As you were taking your skates off, you spotted him approaching you almost immediately— I mean, how can you not notice the 6 foot tall, green-haired man?

Your face lit up in an instant as you ran over to him barefooted and leaped into his arms. “Shin! You made it!” you exclaimed in glee.

“Well, I couldn’t miss a performance that good, now could I?” he said with a soft smile as he hugged you tight.

“You liked it? It wasn’t really my best score, but it’s up there,” you said, composing yourself and pulling away from him.

“I don’t really understand the scoring system, but you were phenomenal— really. I could watch you do that all day if I could,” he said genuinely.

“I don’t think I have the stamina to be skating like that all day,” you giggled. “But thank you, it means a lot.”

After that day, Midorima did his best to free up some space in his schedule to watch you practice. Seriously, he was addicted to watching you skate. It blew his mind every time. Of course, he’d be there for every single competition, cheering you on because he was now without a doubt, your biggest fan.

Aomine

“Competition? What competition?” Aomine questioned one day as the two of you walked to school together.

“Have I not told you before? I figure skate,” you said simply.

Aomine stopped in his tracks for a moment, catching you off guard as you stopped too to see what had happened. He just stared at you with a baffled expression. “You figure skate?! That’s fucking hot! Why haven’t you told me before?” Aomine exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well I’m telling you now. I’m guessing you’ll be there tonight then?”

“That shouldn’t even be a question,” Aomine shook his head as he took your hand in his and continued walking. “Are you any good?” He asked.

“Well, I’m good enough to be in a competition, aren’t I?”

“True. I bet you’re great at it; you’re great at everything,” Aomine said.

“That’s not true,” you replied.

“It is.”

“So you’re saying I’m great at basketball too?”

Aomine visibly hesitated as he thought back to all the times he tried to teach you how to play. “Uh, yeah sure, let’s say that,” he lied.

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully punching his arm.

For some reason, Aomine would not shut up about you being a figure skater for the rest of the day. You were trying to have a conversation with Momoi when he intervened, “Did you know Y/N’s a figure skater? How cool is that?”

“Yes I did know, Dai-chan. I’m guessing you told him about the competition today?” Momoi said returning her attention to you.

You nodded in response but Aomine stood there, slightly offended. “You told her but not me?”

“I just assumed you knew,” you shrugged, finding it quite cute how he was so invested in your sport.

“You shouldn’t assume I know anything,” Aomine said, making both you and Momoi roll your eyes and laugh at him.

Eventually, evening came and you were in the waiting room with your coach, with your eyes glued on the screen that broadcasted the current participant as you mentally prepared yourself for your turn, which was creeping up upon you. Meanwhile, Aomine was seated in the audience with Momoi, being as impatient as ever. “When is Y/N coming?” he yawned.

“Y/N should be up next,” Momoi informed as the song slowly reached its end.

The crowd cheered and a chatter started once again as everyone waited for the next person to take the ice. It took a few more minutes, but you finally entered the rink, skating to the center to get into position.

Almost immediately, Aomine’s jaw dropped. You looked stunning. The way your suit dazzled and clung onto your body was pure art. He swore that he fell in love with you all over again just at the sight.

The music began after a nod of confirmation from you and your skates began to roam the ice ever so smoothly. Aomine was blown away. You were nothing like the previous participants. The way you moved was so clean and purposeful. With each spin and leap, Aomine’s heart skipped a beat— you had his complete attention.

He was quite sure Momoi was talking to him, but he didn’t hear a word. For some reason, everything else around him seemed to fade out as he watched you skate, almost like he was stuck in a trance.

He was finally snapped out of it when the routine came to an end, leaving him at a loss for words as he joined the crowd in their applause.

You made your way off the ice and headed back inside towards the changing rooms, where you ran into Aomine and Momoi in the hallways. “Oh hey guys, what did you think?” You asked as you rotated your ankles nonchalantly to relieve them from the slight soreness you felt.

“You were so so good, Y/N. Dai-chan was so silent during the entire thing, I think you hypnotised him or something,” Momoi joked as she nudged Aomine’s arm playfully.

You turned your attention to your boyfriend, who was rolling his eyes at Momoi’s comment. “Well, was that performance worth all the hype you seemed to have?” you asked him.

“Of course it did. You did so well out there— not to mention the fact that you look incredible in that suit,” Aomine said, still unable to take his eyes off of you.

“Aw really?” You smiled.

“Yeah, you look fucking hot,” Aomine responded confidently.

You couldn’t help but giggle before you got on your toes to place a kiss of gratitude on his cheek, making him flustered. “Well, thank you Daiki— it means a lot.”

Murasakibara

You won’t be able to find someone that loves you more than Murasakibara does. Really, you won’t. He loves everything about you. Your smile, your looks, your mind, and even your hobbies. As someone who doesn’t really take much interest in other people, it was a brand new feeling to be absolutely smitten over you. But he was dedicated.

The two of you were still getting to know more about each other in the first few weeks of dating and the topic of sports came up. “Do you play any sports, Y/N-chin?” Murasakibara asked you during one of your video calls at night that he liked to have when he had nothing else to do.

“Yeah, I’m actually a figure skater,” you replied.

Murasakibara’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s so cool. Do you go for practice and stuff?”

“Yeah, duh. I practice almost everyday.”

“No way. Can I come watch your next practice?” he asked.

“Sure, but I feel like you might find it boring,” you said hesitantly, knowing that you wouldn’t want to sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing but watch.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out,” Murasakibara said surely. “Do you have any videos of you skating?”

“Yeah but they’re not on my phone.”

“Send them to me, I wanna see you skate.”

You giggled. “Atsushi, you’ll see me skate at practice, can’t you wait until then?”

“No, I can’t wait. I bet you look really cute when you skate,” he said as brought another potato chip to his mouth.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait because I’m not sending you anything,” you said dismissively.

“How mean,” he pouted.

Luckily, you managed to change the topic of the conversation before he could beg of you any more. The day for your next practice came and Murasakibara was brimming with excitement as you two entered the arena.

After instructing him to sit at the stands, you took to the ice where you started with the warmups that your coach told you to do. Practice went on and Murasakibara gave you his full attention— which is an incredibly rare sight.

As he watched you stretch and leap and fall, he couldn’t help but be impressed. He certainly could never be able to do any of the things you were doing— it looked exhausting. Something about the way you moved had him captivated though. You looked like you were having fun. No matter how many times you’d fall or mess up, you always seemed passionate about it and that was something he envied ever so slightly, but at the same time he found it such a lovely sight.

You truly loved the sport, he could see it so clearly. And automatically, he had a newfound interest in it too. It wasn’t that he wanted to try figure skating himself, it was just the fact that he loved seeing you so happy that he began to enjoy the sport too.

“I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet,” you said to him jokingly once your practice came to an end.

“Well, you were just that good— you had my full interest,” Murasakibara shrugged.

“Really? I didn’t expect you’d enjoy it that much,” you said.

“I did. I might just watch all your practices from now on.”

“Sure you will,” you said sarcastically.

Little did you know, that he would actually do just that. At almost every practice, he’d be seated in the stands, eyes full of admiration as he watched you. He would often bring you little snacks that you liked so that you’d have something to eat after practice. There were times where he’d be extra tired, but he’d still make it to the rink, even though you’d tell him countless times not to feel obligated to watch. It usually ended with him falling asleep halfway through, but he never regretted it. It was always nice waking up to the happy face of the person he admired.

Akashi

Akashi was well aware that you were a figure skater before he began dating you. Of course, he’d never seen you actually figure skate, but he knew random things about almost everyone around him and being interested in you only made him want to get to know you more.

Akashi is a very supportive boyfriend to you, especially when it comes to your passions. Figure skating was a very beautiful sport in his eyes and the fact that the person he was dating was a figure skater was something he’d never get over.

Being the calculating person he is, he decided to take you ice skating on one of your first dates with him. It wasn’t a particularly busy day at the public ice rink so Akashi got quite lucky when the two of you got there and realised that the place was practically empty.

“Looks like we got the whole place to ourselves,” Akashi said as the two of you slid onto the ice, hand in hand.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice actually,” you smiled, appreciating the serenity of the place. “It’s kind of making me want to do a routine or something,” you thought out loud.

“Then do it.”

“No, we’re on a date, we should just skate together,” you shook your head.

“No, I insist. I’ve been wanting to watch you skate for a while now, and the opportunity finally came,” he said. “Besides, it’s just one routine, shouldn’t take too long, right?”

You let out a sigh as a soft smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I suppose,” you shrugged. “But don’t expect too much— I’m not in the most comfortable of clothes right now.”

Akashi chuckled. “No judgement from me. I just want to watch you skate.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you skated over to the centre of the rink.

Akashi stepped out and leaned against the rails to watch you from the sidelines, barely able to contain his excitement. There wasn’t any music playing so all you could hear was the sound of your blades against the ice, echoing throughout the arena. However, that didn’t stop Akashi from being fully immersed in your skating.

He was blown away by the way you skated, especially considering that he sprung this on you out of the blue. Every movement was precise and refined; he could tell that you’ve practiced to perfection and he was impressed. In fact, seeing you move so flawlessly had him swooning over you more than you could possibly imagine.

Eventually, you came to a halt, your breathing heavy after the spins and jumps, though you were quite satisfied now that you got it out of your system. Akashi returned to the ice with a smile on his face. “That was outstanding, Y/N,” he complimented.

“Really? You liked it?”

“Of course I did. It all seemed so professional— you really practice a lot, don’t you?” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I have been for years,” you nodded.

“Well, you’re absolutely stunning on the ice,” he said genuinely as he placed a kiss on your forehead and took your hand in his. “Shall we get back to our date now?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

As much as Akashi would have adored to watch you practice everyday, the times often overlapped with his basketball training— though he did make it a habit to meet up with you afterwards so that he could walk you home (like the gentleman he his). Even though he was a busy person, he always attended your competitions without fail. He’d always send you a bouquet of flowers before your competitions as well, with little notes wishing you good luck and it would melt your heart every single time.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #generation of miracles #knb #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki #kuroko tetsuya #akashi seijuro #murasakibara atsushi #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou

[javier-pena]

alone

Chapter 1 of The Hunt

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: Mature (for now but that will - spoilers! - change eventually)

Summary: When your best friend and companion is abducted by a group of outlaws, you hire a Mandalorian to help track down the men and get your revenge. What seems like a simple enough task stretches into a month-long trek through inhospitable terrain while both you and the Mandalorian are trying to come to terms with events in your past you cannot change. Set after Season 2.

Warnings: mentions (and short descriptions) of death, murder, and torture | a lot of hurt and no comfort | mentions of loss | mild to moderate language | a lot - and I mean A LOT - of talk about Din’s hands lmao

Notes: This is my first attempt at a Mandalorian fic and the first time in months I’ve written anything. It’s vaguely inspired by my favorite western movies, True Grit (1969/2010), The Quick and the Dead (1995), and The World to Come (2020). So yes, this is going to be very much like a western. I also want to - again - thank Dani @javierpcna​ who was like “are you writing Mandalorian stuff?” about a month ago and has, since then, read through this chapter more often than me and encouraged me to continue to write it and offered so much valuable insight whenever I came to her with an idea ... seriously, Dani, this fic wouldn’t exist without you and I hope I can find a way to repay you! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first chapter (I’m already working on the second one) ...

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The day the Mandalorian arrives on Alvorine is the day you lose your best friend. You’re still busy putting out the fire, running your soot-blackened hand across your face, where the dirt mingles with the tears you’re too tired to stop from streaming down your face, when you hear the thrusters of a spacecraft roaring above you. You barely glance up; you can’t be bothered to. It could be the remnants of the Empire looking for recruits, it could be the New Republic looking for the remnants of the Empire, or it could be the bandits coming back for more. But what do you care? They already took away the one person you care most about in the galaxy. You just grip the shovel tighter and drive it into the soil so you can choke the fire underneath moist stones and dirt.

While you exhaust your body with physical labor, you occupy your mind with thoughts of revenge. Revenge as dark and quenching as the soil beneath you. With every load of dirt you heave onto the searing flames, your plan gains another sharp edge until all you can think of is driving the cutting edge down onto the throat of the man who gripped Brea’s arm and pulled her onto the speeder bike. Maybe his head would come off right away, maybe your tool would just obstruct his windpipe as you watch the life drain slowly out of his eyes. And even that would be too good an end for that monster.

It’s not just in your mind – those thoughts aren’t simply there to ground you while you continue your work in the ruins of what was once your home. It’s not pure fantasy, something to give you back a feeling of control. You are determined to follow through on it; you are going to hunt down these men who burned down your farm and stole Brea from you. You will not rest until they are all dead by your hand. And if you should die in the process … then you won’t go out without a fight, without taking as many of those bastards with you as you can. They have sealed their own fate by coming here today.

You know Brea isn’t dead; they won’t kill her unless she tries to kill one of them first. And she wouldn’t do that, she is too gentle for that, too docile. She would rather turn the other cheek. They should have taken you instead; she doesn’t deserve the fate that awaits her. You would’ve at least put up a fight, make them pay for what they did. And Brea? She would just die.

For now, she’s alive. But whatever you set out to do once you’re done here won’t be a rescue mission. You aren’t under the illusion you can save her. You know that even if you were to leave right now, even if you had your own speeder bike, you would never find her in time. No, this possibility hasn’t even crossed your mind. All you want to do is cause these men more pain than they caused you. You know it is impossible because you cannot imagine anything worse, but you sure as hell will do your best.

You straighten your back, drive the shovel into the ground, and use it as support while you try to catch your breath. The air burns in your lungs, and not just from the cold. There is also the steadily rising black smoke that makes breathing hard; your throat stings, so do your sides, and there is a bitter taste in your mouth. But you’re almost finished here, you’re almost done putting out the fire, so it won’t endanger the surrounding forest. And with every flame you bury, you also bury a piece of your soul until you feel like there is nothing left that makes you human, until all the pain and despair you’re feeling since listening to Brea’s screams grow quieter and quieter until they were swallowed up by silence has turned into a cold, brazen cry for revenge. But you’re glad this has made you less forgiving, less kind, less … human. Those things would only get in the way of the task ahead of you.

As the last flames go out with a wet hiss, one of Alvorine’s three blue white suns vanishes behind the treetops. You know the other two will be quick to follow. And you don’t have anywhere to spend the night. You wouldn’t mind sleeping with your back propped against a tree. You’ve done it often enough. But it’s winter, and the air is already cold and will be even colder once the other two suns set too. And you just lost every blanket, every single piece of fabric that could keep you warm in a small inferno. You know this is just an excuse, a comforting lie you tell yourself. The truth is you cannot spend a minute longer on this clearing, even if that means you have to walk the four miles to the next settlement. You’re so exhausted you cannot feel your legs, but you don’t care. Anything is better than spending the night here, even collapsing in the middle of the dark forest.

You leave the shovel where you stand and walk to the edge of the clearing, swallowing around the lump in your throat, trying to hold down more tears that are threatening to spill over and down your cheeks. Once you reach the edge of the forest, where the air is a bit clearer, you take a deep breath and turn around to look at the ruins of your home, now nothing more than a black pile of rubble. You have nothing, nothing but the clothes you’re wearing, not even a small trinket to remind you of Brea and the many happy hours you spent here tending to your fields, sweeping the front porch or sitting around the fireplace sharing supper. Even remembering how you worked on menial chores now feels like the most precious memory, one you will hold onto until your last breath. Because even though they have taken everything from you, they can’t take away the memory of Brea’s laugh.

***

They stare at you as you enter the inn. They stare and then look away. They can’t bear your presence because it reminds them of their own guilt. Not one of them came to your aid this morning, not one of them came afterwards to offer help. And you ignore them too because there is nothing left to say. All you want is some food and a dry place to sleep before you turn your back on them forever.

You sit down at a small table in a dark corner. The patrons around you either turn their backs to you or stand up to move their meals and conversations someplace else. It’s as if you’ve been marked. If you had any strength left in you, you would call them out on their behavior. Shit, you would wreak havoc, and only stop when the last one of them is on their knees begging for forgiveness. But you’re glad you’re too exhausted because your sudden hatred for everyone and everything scares you. The villagers don’t deserve to fall victim to your rage. There is nothing they could’ve done. They are just as defenseless and helpless as you. Would you have come to their aid if your positions were reversed? You would like to think so, but just because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority. Deep down you know the truth. Deep down you know you would hide too, praying that you would be spared.

As you dig into your bowl of soup, you realize how hungry you are. Even though everything tastes like ash in your mouth, your stomach is glad to have something to clench around when your thoughts stray to this morning’s events again. And you know there’s no need to punish yourself by refusing your body the nourishment it needs. The opposite, in fact – you know you’ll need all the strength you can get if you’re really going after them.

As you swallow one ashy bite after the other, you let your eyes wander around the room, looking for something that will distract you from your thoughts and your feelings of guilt. Everyone avoids your gaze; everyone acts as if your corner is empty. Everyone … except one stranger.

He sits in a booth close to the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze on you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you – he’s wearing a helmet that covers his entire head, the kind you’ve seen twice before in this corner of the galaxy. He’s a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter, and his presence here doesn’t really surprise you. Even though actually seeing one is a rare occurrence, stories about them are countless.

Alvorine is a planet without laws, a planet that lives by its own rules, so many criminals decide to hide out here while they wait for their crimes to be forgotten. There is no military presence on the planet, no judicial system, no one to catch and punish the wrongdoers. The planet follows the rules of whoever is in charge, which changes frequently, but none of the powerful people have enough resources to enforce those rules anyway. Disputes are often just settled by the parties involved in whatever way they see fit. Only the Mandalorians, who are hired by people on other worlds, by people who have never experienced what it is like to live on Alovrine, are brave enough to get involved in those disputes. You have to admit you do feel a tiny bit curious as to why that particular Mandalorian is here ... who hired him? And who is he hunting?

You tentatively let your gaze wander over his stoic body, over the beskar covering his arms and chest, over the bandolier wrapped around his upper body, over the visor hiding his eyes. If you had one like him on your side, you wouldn’t need to worry about getting your revenge. He would catch those men in the blink of an eye. And if you paid him enough, he would do to them whatever you wanted.

He would cut off their limbs but keep them alive long enough to feel it.

He would make them run for it, give them the illusion of hope, only to crush it like their bones.

He would let you watch, let you choose whatever punishment you saw fit.

You shift in your seat because you can almost smell the blood, you can hear a faint echo of their screams, and it makes you feel light-headed and nauseous, but also elevates you, lifts a weight off your shoulders, even if just for a brief moment.

But he’s not here to do your bidding. And when you lift your head again, he’s gone.

You finish your bowl of soup and then decide to rent a room upstairs for the night. You don’t have a place to stay anymore and it’s too dangerous to start your pursuit while it’s dark. The forest belongs to dangerous creatures during the night, more dangerous than any man out there. And you’re planning on staying alive for just a little while longer.

You stretch and yawn and move to get up when your path is suddenly blocked. It happens so fast you don’t register anything at first apart from the cold, hard beskar chest plate that is level with your face. Its unexpected appearance makes you lose your balance and you fall back down onto the bench you’ve been sitting on. The Mandalorian extends his hand, his fingers closing around thin air. It’s a half-hearted attempt to stop your fall, and it comes too late – your backside has already painfully collided with the hard wood.

“May I join you?” His voice sounds distorted through the modulator in his helmet. He sounds like a machine, not like a being with a heartbeat.

You want to tell him no, want to tell him to fuck off, but for tonight you have no fight left in you. So you nod.

He sits down and you expect to hear the clink of his armor, expect to feel a tremor when his heavy body comes to rest on a stool opposite you. But there is no sound, no movement, and the lack makes you sit up straighter. This isn’t just another cowardly villager you can get rid of by glaring at him … this is an apex predator.

You swallow with some difficulty. “Can I help you?” you ask, your voice level, your eyes resting on his glove-clad hands lying on the table. You figure you’re safe as long as you can see them.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. Or at least you think he’s looking at you. You cannot see his eyes behind the tinted visor. No matter how uncomfortable the situation makes you feel, you try not to move … you try not to show any sign of weakness, to give him any excuse to lunge across the table and strangle you.

Finally, he answers. “I’m looking for work.”

Now you cannot help but move. You exhale sharply, and with that release of breath comes a release of tension as you slump backwards, your back hitting the wall behind you. You cross your arms over your chest. “I can’t help you,” you say. You don’t have any work to offer him, no work worthy of the skills of a Mandalorian who usually hunts down important people, kings, merchants, people who influence the course of the galaxy’s history. Following a few lowly bandits is not the work he’s used to. You don’t even want to tell him about it because you know he’d take it as an insult. And even if - by some miracle - your quest for revenge would be deemed a worthy cause in the eyes of the Mandalorian, you couldn’t afford his services.

The slightest movement of his helmet is the only reaction your answer gets out of him. Whether he shifts because he’s surprised or because he’s angry, or whether his scalp itches under the metal you cannot tell.

Still, you feel the need to explain yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.”

Shit, that’s the wrong thing to say. It implies you have work for him, but that you’re too poor to pay him. For all you know, this could be a grave insult in Mandalorian society.

His fingers on the table clench around thin air again. “What can you offer?” he asks.

He doesn’t want to know about the job, the quarry as you know they call it. No, he just wants to know how much he can earn.

“240 credits,” you answer. It’s all you have. You won’t need it anymore.

He tilts his head and you expect him to refuse, but then he says, “That’s enough.”

You’re taken aback, surprised. He’s caught you off-guard. You were fully prepared to see him walk away at hearing the ridiculously low amount of money you just offered. “You don’t even know what the job is,” you protest. The last thing you need is a Mandalorian hunting you down because you’re not paying him enough.

“They told me,” he says with a nod behind him.

You follow the movement with your eyes and see heads whip to the side, gazes wandering downwards, you notice conversations being picked up again. White hot fury fills you, more powerful than the flames that destroyed your house.

“They had no right,” you press out through clenched teeth.

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything. He sits still like a statue, unwavering, as you fight a small battle with yourself. You should leave without looking back. Messing with a Mandalorian is even more dangerous than the task ahead of you. But he’s offering you something invaluable, something no amount of credits can get you: a chance. If you go alone, you’ll be dead in about a week. There’s no use pretending you’ll get out of it alive. But if you accept the Mandalorian’s help – his services, you have to remind yourself – you might make it through two. You might get to see your dreams of revenge become reality.

You sigh deeply as a heavy weariness settles over you. You’re exhausted, and now that all the adrenaline has left your body, you can feel all the small cuts and bruises today’s labors have left behind. And you feel empty … cold and empty, and utterly alone.

The Mandalorian still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t defend the villagers, he doesn’t tell you what he knows about you or the job, he doesn’t try to persuade you to take him up on his offer, nor does he walk away from it. He just sits there and waits for you to make up your mind, as if it’s all the same to him. And it probably is. Either he goes with you and earns some money, or he doesn’t and looks for work elsewhere. He is completely detached from the whole affair. There is no emotional investment, just a job that needs to be done.

He doesn’t care if you live or die, he just cares if you pay him or not.

This realization is what finally helps you make up your mind. “I want to hire you,” you say, your tongue heavy in your mouth. All you really want is to sleep.

There is no reaction for the longest time but then the Mandalorian nods. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something, give him details or explain the specifics of the job to him. But before you can decide what to say next, he stands abruptly.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he says before turning around.

Your brain needs a moment to catch up but when it does, you’re already on your feet. “Wait,” you say, and to your surprise the broad, steel-clad man listens to you.

He doesn’t face you, but he stops.

You briefly consider asking him if you can accompany him, but you don’t. You don’t have to ask, you get to decide.

“I’m coming with you,” you tell him.

You tell a stranger, a dangerous one at that, one who makes his money by making other people’s lives a living hell, that you will travel with him through dark, deserted forests where no one will stop him from taking what he wants from you instead of earning it, where no one will come to your aid should he not honor the deal you apparently just made with him. And you don’t care. Because no matter what he will do to you, it can’t be worse than what has already been done.

But all your worries and fears focus in on just one tiny aspect of this whole, fucked-up situation when he says, “I work alone.”

You don’t want to negotiate. This shouldn’t even be up for debate. You’re his employer now, you get to decide how things are done. But if you insist on this, he could just walk away from you. And you cannot let that happen now that you’ve had an idea of what it would be like to have a Mandalorian on your side.

“We’re not a team,” you say. “Think of me as an interested party. As someone who is fascinated by your work.”

You’re not sure if that is the right thing to say. His shoulders move, but he still doesn’t turn around. When he speaks again, you know it was the wrong thing to say.

“I work alone or not at all.”

You don’t want to accept that. You want to be there when those men are punished for what they did. You don’t want to wait around for the Mandalorian to come back, not when you don’t have anywhere to wait around in. You’ve lost everything. Had he talked to the villagers as he claims, he would know this. Or maybe he does. Maybe he knows you lost your home today but doesn’t care. He doesn’t even know the definition of the word home. It means nothing to him.

You take a deep breath. “Then I won’t be needing your services.”

This finally makes him turn around. Everything in you screams for you to take a few steps back, to put yourself out of his reach. You can feel the atmosphere between you shift – he draws back his shoulders, makes himself even taller than he already is. And you know, you just know, that refusing his offer, that backtracking on your agreement is the worst mistake you made tonight.

You’re pretty sure that not honoring a deal is the worst insult to a Mandalorian.

“Going alone will be your death,” he says when you cannot bear the tension a second longer.

“What’s it to you?”

The words are out. They are a challenge, one you didn’t mean to make, one you shouldn’t have made, but it’s done now. Your hand begins to tremble, and your feet grow cold with fear as you prepare yourself for his reaction. You don’t know if he will hit you, tie you up, torture you, or just kill you on the spot. He could do all of these things without having to fear any repercussions. You curse yourself for not having been more careful, for making this fatal mistake, because now Brea will go unavenged. Just because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut, just because you’re stubborn and hot-headed and oh so stupid.

But to your surprise, the Mandalorian shrugs. He lifts his broad shoulders, then lowers them again as your eyes follow the movement. But he’s not giving you anything more: He doesn’t insist on going alone, he doesn’t turn around and leave, he just keeps standing opposite you, motionless, emotionless, until you’re convinced you imagined the shrug.

So you decide to make the next move by removing yourself from this situation before he changes his mind and drags you back to his ship to do whatever he wants to you. You take a deep breath and start to step around him, a movement that is almost impossible to complete in this small space you’re both in. But you attempt it, nevertheless. When you’re level with him, doing your best not to brush up against him so you won’t enrage him, you hear his voice. It’s just one sentence, four words, but for some reason it sounds so much more human than it did when he was opposite you. Maybe it has something to do with the distance between his helmet and your ear, maybe it’s the angle from which the sounds hit your eardrums or maybe it’s because you feel light-headed, dizzy with the realization he hasn’t killed you yet and probably won’t.

He says, “Have it your way.”

You stop right next to him, staring ahead at a group of three men who do their best not to look at you. But you don’t see them anyway. In fact, you don’t see anything at all because the rushing sound in your ears drowns out everything else, even other senses.

“You can come with me,” he says, and it’s the first time he has spoken two sentences in a row. “But you do as I say.” Three. “If I tell you to run, you run.” Four. “If I tell you to get out of the way, you do so.” Five. “And if I tell you to kill, you kill.” Six.

Then nothing, just the faint sound of his deep breaths through the modulator.

Your thoughts are racing, tripping over their own feet like children running down a hill, and they’re unbearably loud. Everything is loud suddenly, from the sound of the barkeep filling a glass to the way that woman over there is chewing her food. The only thing that’s quiet is the last one you would have suspected to be so: the Mandalorian. Now he is waiting for you to say something and as he does, he balls his hand into a fist and then releases the tension again, over and over like a nervous tic, like he needs an outlet for the tension in his body, the tension you have no idea he is feeling until you see his arm flex beneath the fabric covering it.

But, once more, you’re at war with yourself. You don’t know what to tell him. There is still that shimmer of hope on the horizon, the light that makes you believe you stand a chance if you bring him along. But his terms … you’re not sure if you can accept them. He doesn’t know Alvorine or the men you would be hunting half as well as you do. And you’ve never been one for following orders. So if you feel that his assessment of a situation is wrong, you’re not sure you’ll be able to run just because he tells you to.

You have a feeling that defying his orders would be the most dangerous thing you could ever do, even more dangerous than hunting down a group of ruthless bandits who like to torture and kill for fun.

“All right,” you say finally.

His fist unclenches one last time and he exhales slowly.

“But when we find them,” you swallow hard, once, but your mouth is completely dry, “I get to decide what happens to them.”

The Mandalorian turns toward you so abruptly that you almost lose your balance. You lean back and hit your elbow on the wall behind you. The pain makes you curse under your breath.

“Agreed,” he whispers. He sounds like a machine again, as if everything that makes him human is shut away beneath that cold, hard, invaluable beskar steel. You too feel cold suddenly, cold and afraid. “But until then you do as I say. Understood?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. He is too close to you, and drowns out everything else, even the sounds that you considered to be too loud mere seconds ago. If he wouldn’t be wearing a helmet, you would be able to feel his breath on your cheek. He takes up your field of vision almost entirely. You’ve never felt more on display, and yet more hidden. And you know that if you say the wrong thing now, it will have terrible consequences.

So you just nod again.

“We leave in the morning,” he tells you, then turns around suddenly and leaves, his cape trailing behind him.

All sounds come rushing back at once, as if you’ve just emerged out of a pool of water. You release your breath quickly, only now realizing you’ve been holding it. Then you slump back against the wall, a shaking, quivering mess.

***

tag list: @bella-ciao​, @filthybookworm​, @frannyzooey​, @khalysa​, @leannawithacapitala​, @mothandpidgeon​, @mrsparknuts​, @mxsamwilson​, @piscespussybabe​, @something-tofightfor​

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #star wars #din djarin #pedro pascal #fanfic #the hunt fic #yes i've queued this #yes i'm asleep right now #and yes i'm too much of a coward

[indecisive-behaviors]

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

#meta analysis #ranting about cobra kai cuz I can #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #cobra kai #karate kid #I will never get over the fact that that was an actual scene that they filmed #and then got no resolution #FOR 30 YEARS #I apologize to everyone for this post #obviously I have a lot of feelings about this

[robininthelabyrinth]

Targets - ao3

- Chapter 6 -

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Wen,” the boy with the gentle smile who called himself Meng Yao said, bowing. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Wen Qing did not especially want to talk to – anyone,  really, but she really didn’t want to talk, least of all, to a boy some seven years her junior, from another sect with everything that entailed. But just over his shoulder, she could see that Wen Ning was smiling, his cheeks almost bulging with the force of it, as he spoke with the other children, making friends for the first time in his life, and she supposed it was in her best interest to make friends as well.

“I’m not planning on staying, you know,” she told him, just in case, and he nodded agreeably. “I’m a prisoner of war.”

A very comfortable prisoner of war. Who may or may not have put up very little fuss about getting captured when her supposedly secure carriage escort had gotten raided by the Nie sect, especially when their sect leader had recognized her by sight on first meeting and bowed politely instead of taking her head off at once as she might have expected. He’d even asked after her brother’s health – Wen Ruohan hadn’t done that once in the entire time she’d known him, and still less after he’d abruptly gone mad.

And he had, in fact, gone mad.

There was no other way to explain his behavior.

One day he’d been fine, scheming and vicious and narcissistic the way she’d always known he was but also cautious and thoughtful, set upon a slow and inexorable scheme of domination that would see him eventually claim all that he desired, and the next moment he was – very nearly unhinged. He saw himself as the rightful master of the cultivation world, just as he always had, except now it was as if he had had safely it in the palm of his hand and then had it snatched away from him, rather than anticipating a future prize to be eventually savored; he was frustrated and so, so angry, lashing out at all around him.

His sons had loved the idea of attacking the other sects – Wen Xu was old enough to plan out battles, the son of Sect Leader Wen’s previous wife, while Wen Chao, who was still young but old enough to tear off the limbs of small creatures, couldn’t wait to torment the children that had shown him up in achievements, stealing the accolades that he viewed as belonging to him.

They were still young, she’d told herself, and didn’t know better, could still be educated into something like kindness and compassion, but she’d also known that that wouldn’t help them if the other sects defeated theirs - that was the problem with war like this, where there was no room for mercy. What idiot would permit them to live long enough to seek vengeance for their clan?

What idiot would allow her and Wen Ning to live, assuming the same would be true for them?

As a result, Wen Qing had been much less enthusiastic about the whole project, although after her uncle had made an example of the few generals that dared to protest his decisions she was very quiet about her lack of enthusiasm. It didn’t mean she agreed with anything he was doing – that wasn’t new, she hadn’t agreed with anything he was doing for years now, but she’d gotten used to closing her eyes and shutting her ears, but nowadays it was much worse than before. He was acting as though he’d already finished all his carefully-laid plans – the ones he’d previously recognized were necessary as a foundation for the strike he would be ready to make in five or ten years, the one-shot-kill domination of the cultivation world – and nothing, seemingly, could be done to convince him otherwise.

Not even the risk to his precious sons.

The Fire Palace was full of new people, and new things, too, and if Wen Qing ever found out what sick, twisted mind had come up with those torture machines…

“Of course you’re a prisoner, Mistress Wen,” Meng Yao said smoothly. “I am merely acting as a prison guard. Would you like some lunch? Or a bath, or some rest…?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not a servant,” she said. “Your clothing is too fine for that.”

“I’m a disciple of the Nie sect, a new one,” Meng Yao said, and she thought he almost sounded surprised about that. “That doesn’t mean that I can’t see to your comfort.”

Wen Qing looked again at Wen Ning, who was now being lured onto the training field and a bow pressed into his hand by excited youngsters. His cheeks were bright red, a sure sign that someone was complimenting him – probably the Wei boy, the Jiang sect’s ward, who was waving his hands around very enthusiastically as if he were trying to sell Wen Ning whole and entire, clothing and crown thrown in for free. The other children seemed just as enthusiastic, though, excluding perhaps the Lan sect’s second young master who mostly just looked harassed but continued to linger as if he were hoping for even more harassment.

It seemed…exhausting.

“A bath would be nice,” she said, giving in with a sigh and wishing, not for the first time, that she wasn’t one of the oldest of her generation. Wen Xu was older, yes, but he obviously wasn’t here, and most of the Nie sect that were her age would be away to war soon enough if they weren’t already. She foresaw a great deal of babysitting in her future. “And then, perhaps, a conversation with some relevant individual to pass along important battle information that I definitely wouldn’t have access to, being a humble and unimportant doctor?”

Meng Yao grinned at her.

“Oh, I think something like that can be arranged,” he said cheerfully. Probably more than he would be if he knew half the information she had to offer was completely insane – for example, her uncle had gotten terribly fixated on demonic cultivation of late, claiming that it would allow a single man to take down a battalion, except he had no idea how to make any of it work. She hoped he never figured it out. “The more the merrier here, Wen-jiejie, and I think we’re all of the opinion that the sooner this war is over, the better. Wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Wen Qing said tartly, not sure if she appreciated the intimacy or not. At least it boded well for her future survival, and Wen Ning’s... “Part of my uncle’s insanity has been his – quite frankly – ridiculous conviction that he needs to kill all of you specifically before you, and I quote, ‘threaten to shoot down the sun’.”

What madman would target the sun?

Maybe they should, though, she thought, and not as unwillingly as she’d always believed she’d be if it ever came down to it. Wen Ruohan might be her uncle, her patron, the one who pulled her up into the sky, and she’d always been resigned to the fact that if he was shot down, so would she; the knowledge had paralyzed her, forced her to be indifferent to his crimes. But the Nie sect was treating her as if she were still Dafan Wen, just different enough to be left out of the dirty water Qishan Wen was splashing all over her surname – through war, through domination, through the attempted kidnapping and murder of lots of innocent children...

Maybe it would be good for him to understand what it’s like to be made a target.

“I like that,” an unexpected voice behind her said – it was the Nie sect leader again, looking unusually boyish without his war-armor and with a smile on his face instead of a scowl. She abruptly wondered how old he was, and how much he’d suffered collaterally when it had been his father who’d been the target instead of her uncle; it hadn’t been something she’d thought much about before. “If there was ever a need to shoot the sun down, it’s now, with Wen Ruohan equating himself for it…it’s like aiming at kite flying in the sky that’s in desperate need of deflating. We could call the war the Sunshot Campaign.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Wen Qing couldn’t help but scoff. “What’s the likelihood that something like that catching on?”

#mdzs #wen qing #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #targets

[imaginesmai]

Arvin Russell - The right time

SO YEAH I SAW THE DEVIL ALL THE TIME AND I LOVED IT!! My opinion about it is at the end! In case you haven’t seen it and you still want to read this, you can skip it by not looking at the A/N. Let me know what you think about the film in the comments, please! Or just message me! I’m feeling like writting about him, so please 

SEND YOUR REQUESTS.

Plot: Arvin’s father always told him to wait for the right time, and he thought it was the only right way to do things. Now, when you’ve been hurt because of him, he’s ready to take the matters into his own hands.

WARNINGS: TDATT SPOILERS. Mentions of rape. Murder. 

Arvin didn’t know if the preacher had heard him or not coming in, because he hadn’t turned around to look at him. If anything, that only made him angrier. He was sure that if he had heard him and looked at him, he wouldn’t have spared him another glance. Because Arvin Russell wasn’t of his interest, not because of the money and the gender. The last thought made him tighten his grip around the gun, willing himself not to shoot him before the right time.

Since Lenora’s death, he had been waiting for the right time. That was what his father told him; to wait for the right time, and then to avenge yourself. He had been doing pretty good with that mantra, or at least most of the times. Arvin had followed the preacher to his house and to his adventures with young women. He had watched as he fucked a young girl from Lenora’s class and then went back to his wife, scoffing when dinner wasn’t ready and urging her to satisfy him when bed time arrived. He had held his gun tight to his chest, knowing the right time would eventually come; and then, he had hated his father more than ever, because listening to him had almost caused another precious death.

“Arvin!” his grandma called from downstair. Quickly, he closed the notebook where he was keeping track of the preacher’s actions. “Boy, Mr. Y/L/N is here!”

Arvin frowned at the mention of your father. You had known each other for your whole life, so he knew your family story; that your mother had left you after promising your father that she would leave her adventurous life when she got pregnant. She left with some young man that was going to travel the world, and your father had locked himself up in a unbreakable shell, forgetting about his eleven’s years old daughter.

Not once he had seen your father outside your house, you being in charge of dropping food and money for him. Not matter how many times Arvin had tried to convince you that you would be better on your own. Even living with him, once your relationship wasn’t just friends anymore. But you had just shook your head softly and told him that you couldn’t leave him, not yet.

So it was strange that it was your father and not you who was knocking on his door. He had agreed to meet you that morning to show you finally what he was on lately, since he couldn’t hide anything; but you hadn’t come, with the excuse of visiting Lenora’s grave once more. You were her best friend, so after offering to go with you, he agreed on meeting you at night.

Briefly, he looked to the box where you two were saving a bit of your earnings for your life together. He doubted your father knew about it, so he got up and walked down the stairs.

“Here he is” Emma smiled at him. “Well, I’m leavin’ you to it. I’m in the kitchen”

“Arvin” your father called his name, voice croaked from not using it. “God, you’re a man now”

Arvin gave your father a small smile. The man, once handsome, broad and tall, was now hunched shadow. He had a several days long beard, skinny arms and wide clothes. Mr Y/L/N was hiding his hands behind his body, only making him look worse. Still, Arvin extended one hand and offered him a shake, greeting him.

“I’m – uh, sorry, you didn’t have to come down. But Emma started calling you before I could explain” he gave him an awkward chuckle.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Y/L/N. Is there… anything I can help with?”

“Is Y/N here?”

The question caught Arvin off guard, because usually you spent days in Arvin’s house and your father didn’t notice as long as there was food on the fridge. Lately, the man had been doing an effort of getting better, and some nights you had told Arvin how he had attempted to cook for you. From there to wondering where you were there was a huge step, and for a second Arvin tried to sniffle for any track of alcohol. There was none.

“Usually, I wouldn’t really care but, you know – getting better and all” he tried to explain himself. “She spends most of the time here, so I thought that maybe she’s around? I haven’t seen her since yesterday’s afternoon”

The last part caught Arvin attention. He talked with you last time before starting yesterday’s shift, which was before noon. And you told him you were going to spend the rest of the day with your father, and that the next morning you intended to pay Lenora a visit. He hadn’t worried about it, because he had been busy and trusted you to take care of yourself. But if you hadn’t slept on your house, then there was something to worry about.

“She… Y/N told me she was goin’ to spend the mornin’ in the graveyard” Arvin mumbled.

“Oh, she went yesterday after you left her home” he explained, making Arvin’s blood run cold. “I had things to do so she told me she’d go and then pay you a visit”

Your father said something else, but Arvin wasn’t listening anymore. There was another person he had missed last night; the preacher, who usually went home somewhere near eight, didn’t appear until very much later. He knew because he had been waiting outside his house, watching his wife sitting in front of a cold dinner with tears on her eyes. He had thought nothing of it at first, but now, he choked on his breath knowing what could have happened.

Arvin’s body collided with your father when he walked past him and ran out of the house, hearing the man calling out for him. His grandma also looked through the kitchen window, screaming his name before Arvin disappeared into the field that went to the town’s graveyard.

Thinking about it, Arvin knew it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Knockemstiff was full of sinners, bad people and wicked intentions. Even if you didn’t go to highschool no more and worked to provide to your father, Arvin had had to deal with a few men who thought you were available, whether you wanted or not. There were a lot of people who could have hurt you, a lot of reasons why you didn’t go back home last night, and none of them made sense in his head.

You knew how to defend yourself, you had a car that could help you to escape any delicate situation, and you never got lost. Not once you had wandered off without telling anyone, not even your father. Even if he wasn’t listening or paying attention, you always told him where you were going.

Thoughts ran past his mind at the same time Arvin ran past his neighbours and cars, trying not to collide with anyone but finding it difficult, since he couldn’t see much past his oncoming tears. Loosing Leonora had been one thing. His sister, his family and the person he had fought nail and tooth to protect for so many years. He had been waiting for the right moment to avenge her, to put a bullet in between the preacher’s eyes, or maybe a few. One for every second she had suffered hanging from that rope.

And he swore, that if he had had anything to do with your disappearance, there wouldn’t be an inch of his body untouched by the bullets.

He wasn’t as late as he could have been, he guessed. The police was warned, a group of villagers offered to help, and Arvin himself kept running in circles around the graveyard for the whole day. Even Grandma, who wasn’t in the best shape, had helped into the search. And she had been the one who had found you, maybe because she had just this woman-ly instinct or because God had wanted it to be a woman who found your naked, bruised body and not some sinful man.

Arvin had arrived then – and sure, you were alive, recovering in his room because he didn’t want to leave your side ever again, barely saying a word and healing from the bruised kidney. But you weren’t fine, you weren’t smiling at Arvin and cradling his head when he lost his track. It had been obvious what had happened that day, why it had taken Arvin a few hours to find each piece of your clothes and where the bruises around your thighs came.

Your father had dissapeared again, locking himself in his room and forgetting about his daughter once more. But Arvin had been there every second for the past week, getting you to eat what you could and holding you tight through the nightmares. 

The bench he was sitting on creaked under his fingers when Arvin thought about your sobs, how your tried to hide beside him when last week you complained about Virginia heat. The preacher looked back to Arvin, who wasn’t visible because of the cap.

“Excuse me, preacher” Arvin’s voice didn’t waver. “You got time for a sinner?”

Upon hearing Arvin’s voice, and knowing it wasn’t anyone from his interest – a girl – he turned around and motioned for him to keep going. It wasn’t any more about Lenora´s death, because Arvin would have had enough with killing him. Maybe making him suffer for a bit, making him feel the desperation of knowing death was the only answer. Now, however, Arvin wanted to cut off every inch of skin that had touched yours.

“Go ahead” preacher Teagardin told him, going back to his lecture.

Arvin took his time, talking about everything that the preacher had done of thought about since he put a foot in Knockemstiff. He talked about how the preacher forced his wife to please him late at night, how he ordered her around as if she was just a servant. He talked about how he liked young girls, those who were innocent enough that didn’t have to be forced, just manipulated. About the pregnancy, and how he cowered away once his decisions had repercussions.

He watched from behind his cap how the preacher left the book on the bench, his eyes widening in size as he realised the sins Arvin was talking about were his. He turned around finally, locking eyes with Arvin, but not recognizing him. Why would he, though, since everything he looked at were Arvin’s precious girls. First his sister, and now his girl. As he continued, he shifted the gun on his lap, wanting to end his story before blowing his brains out.

“And there is this other girl. She ain’t like the rest, cause she doesn’ fall for the lies. So I decided to approach her when she was alon’, kicked her head open and brought her to the back of my car. Forcer her and left her in the woods” Arvin’s finished. “Didn’ care if she was a ‘right or not. Just fucked her good and left her to die”

“Who are you, boy?” the preacher chuckled awkwardly, getting up. “Why don’t you take off your cap?”

“She was found, thankfully. Naked, bruised, unconscious. She doesn’t talk no more, just cries” Arvin’s voice was full of venom, finally taking off his cap. “But I don’ care, cause I ain’t responsible for that neither”

The preacher went to jump forward, maybe hoping to kill Arvin, scare him away or knock him unconscious. If it came to Arvin’s word against his, probably just a few people would believe Arvin; but the truth would come out eventually, and both of them knew it. No one would ever know what the preacher would have done then, because true to his word, Arvin Russell didn’t leave an inch of the preacher’s skin untouched from the bullets.

-

Later that night, Arvin walked into his dark room, knowing it would be his last night in Knockemstiff. He still didn’t have a plan, didn’t have a way to leave without being chased or hurting his family. For that night, he was just a scared boy whose responsibilities would have to wait.

He climbed into the room through the window, not making any noise and avoiding his grandma and grand uncle. If they didn’t know he was there that night, they wouldn’t have anything against the police; they would be safe. They would be just fine with the money he was leaving behind, probably a bit tight but enough to have a good life. The next problem, however, was harder. He let you nest against him when he crawled into bed, let you hide your face against his neck and not talk for another night of what happened that day. Not that there was much to talk, because it wouldn’t happen again.

Not knowing if you heard him or not, Arvin told you what he had done. Tears ran down his cheeks when he told you how he couldn’t stop pulling the trigger on him, how he would do it again and again, and how he felt guilty about not doing it sooner. The same as your father, he expected you not to hear a word of what he had said. But you surprised him when your shaky, thin hand made its way to his cheek and made him look at you.

“You can’t say anything, Arv” your whispered, the pale cheeks a contrast with your hard voice. “We need to run away”

“W-we?” Arvin frowned, confused. “You can’t – darlin’, I-I can’t… you and, uh, we –“

“You’re not leaving without me, Arvin Russell”

For the first time in a week, you pressed your lips against him. He had almost forgotten how it felt to have something good, not just rage and pain. Arvin let more tears fall as he slowly cradled the back of your head, not wanting to move in case it would end. It didn’t last longer, anyway; soon, you were tearing away. But rather than just cuddling his side, you laid your head against his shoulder and hug his middle.

He had thousands of thoughts that he wanted to say. That he was sorry, for not telling you sooner what he was doing and for not taking better care of you. That he should have taken care of the preacher on the begging, and not trusting on the advice of someone who killed himself in front of their kid. But he didn’t say anything, just hug you close, knowing there was no way he would leave the town without you.

Because together, everything felt like the right time.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

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A/N (my opinion on tdatt):

So, WOW. I saw it last night because I don’t have Netflix, so I had to meet a friend to watch it. And it was - wow. The way Tom Holland and Robert Pattinson go out of their way to work their accents and roles is amazing. Even though I hate the preacher’s character (who doesn’t), I loved how Robert works with him and makes him his. He’s always an amazing actor, but this time he outdid himself!

And Tom... Well, he got me with the first word he said. That part when he’s with Lenora and gets beaten up... and then, the way he avengers her from the bullies is amazing. I also loved watching how he had a relationship with a fem character that wasn’t romantical. He showed every emotion, thought and action with just his face, and I love him for it.

I don’t think it’s a film that should be seen just becuase he’s in it. It’s amazing, breath-taking and beautiful. I love this kind of films, but if you don’t is understable. It’s quite violent and can tigger anybody. Still, I’ll give it 8/10 - becuase I would have loved to see more of other characters! Message me if you want to talk about it

#arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tdatt #the devil all the time imagine #the devil all the time one shot #the devil all the time x reader #the devil all the time fic #tdatt imagine #tdatt one shot #tdatt fic #imaginesmai #imaginemai

[cc-tinslebee]

Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all-- #full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

[theseerasures]

While you're doing reactions, if you're up for it, how are you feeling about all the finale predictions you made on March 23? By my count, you scored pretty well!

hooooooo boy (the alluded post, for those just catching up)

how i feel about my predictions is that...you’re right and i scored pretty well, but much like the characters doing right in the episode itself, it didn’t matter. part of the reason why the finale made me feel so much--why i loved it, despite still being emotionally hungover from ugly affect--is because i WAS right, but i was so often right but wrong on a smaller scale, or right but wrong because i completely misunderstood the overall thematic stakes, or in one case right but in such a phenomenally cruel and roundabout way that i’m still reeling from it.

more detailed breakdown under the cut (as in “let’s unpack this,” and as in “i have an emotional breakdown”):

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY RIGHT

Team Green, Yang, the non-Robyn Happy Huntresses, Klein and the non-combatant Schnees were gimmes from the beginning, even the ones of whom we didn’t have visual confirmation by the end of Worthy.

Pietro and Maria are still MIA so i’m putting them here, but...Winter’s gonna have to tell Pietro, when he shows up again.

Cinder and the Relics i was correct about, but even though i knew going in that she would win i didn’t imagine the scale of her victory. mostly because i thought she might have learned some self-discipline and just skedaddled with the Relics in an attempt to trap as many people as possible in superhell, but a) she didn’t, and b) she won without needing to.

Salem, Watts, and Ironwood are where i predicted, but i think part of me really bought into the fan theory that maybe Salem would want to keep Atlas around. both Watts and Ironwood lasted much longer through the episode than i expected because i was working from that assumption, but with the direction the episode actually took it makes perfect sense that they exited the stage as Atlas fell--they are, after all, twin architect-destroyers of Atlas. brains and brawn.

Nora ended up in Vacuo, but she’s...uh, not happy about it. not that i expected her to be happy, but this is much much worse. og JNPR is now JUST Renora, and much as i love freewheeling modular megazord JNPR, that’s gonna hit like a truck. last time they lost someone Renora were consciously trying to play supportive teammate to Jaune, who’d just lost his partner, and Nora especially also had to talk Ren off the edge with the Kuroyuri stuff. i expect they’ll swap the dynamic this time, especially since Nora was already planning to go all independent woman before this.

Qrow, Robyn, and the AceOps are stranded, but in transit and not in Mantle, because Mantle the place is no more. and Vine is dead. the reason i posited that the AceOps might be split up was so they could find their team dynamic after it’s been unsettled, and...well. having one of them do a heroic sacrifice should do a similar trick. because i didn’t think Atlas would fall on Mantle i thought Qrow and Robyn (particularly Robyn) would get more to do, but both of them are pretty much exactly in the same place they were in at the beginning of the season: trapped in a cramped environment, cut off from the people they love and uncertain what happened to them, and unable to contribute in a way that they would consider meaningful. i’m guessing we won’t check back in with this crew for a while, but if we do it’ll be interesting to see if the Qrow and Robyn dynamic changes--like, if he has to be the one to talk her down from cabin fever and despair. (before he finds out that he was the one who should have been despairing all along.)

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY WRONG

Neo is in superhell. i had put her in Atlas because i’d overestimated Cinder’s ability to play the long game, but what the show ultimately doubled down on was that Cinder remains at heart a petty and impatient opportunist, and that’s where she’s most effective. which i dig! i dig that she has not so much improved (in means or ends) so much as learned to hold the beneficial and detrimental parts of herself farther and farther apart, because in the end they’re all the same parts, and because presumably she’ll end up starfishing out so much (who knew the way she took care of Winter’s death pigeons was foreshadowing?) that she breaks in two. and i dig Neo in superhell without Cinder, because it’ll be our first chance to see Neo not working for anyone outside of that one time she fought Cinder. if superhell does end up being part afterlife, she might also get some closure with the Torchwick stuff.

Jaune being in superhell points to it being part afterlife, because the chance for HIM to get some closure is also right there. that was always the case, but the reason i made the prediction i did was because i assumed that Jaune would remain the person he has been this whole season--this stolid, clueless but incredibly effective supporting leader. having a Jaune who is at the top of his game meet up with Pyrrha again is obviously appealing, especially to me, a person who scribbles misshapen hearts labeled “Arkos = 5evr” on all my notebooks, but at the time i didn’t think it was necessary to his story...and then the story dramatically shifted his character and threw all my carefully hedged bets off (which is something we’ll also get to with...later).

having a Jaune who has just effectively EUTHANIZED someone meet up with Pyrrha again isn’t just appealing--it’s vital. and it’s vital because the exact parameters of how and why Jaune ended up having to kill Penny is a point-for-point echo and escalation of the way the Amber to Pyrrha transfer was supposed to go. last time Jaune Arc was party to a Maiden transfer process he had no idea what was going on, and he tried to intervene when he worked out that whatever Oz was doing was going to hurt Pyrrha, and that however minute thing contributed to Pyrrha’s death and the Fall of Beacon. this time it’s not just that he knows what’s going on and the stakes of it. it’s not even just that he is the Ozpin operating the Aura Transfer machine. it is that there is no machine--there is just him, holding the knife. he knows the Amber better than the Pyrrha this time, and this time the Amber is his friend, and still whole, and choosing. not just consenting, but asking him. trusting him. so he carries it out. the old Maiden dies, and like Ozpin he dies shortly after, but not before he watches the new Maiden fail.

but he does prevent history from repeating, because a new Maiden is created, and she gets to live. and Cinder Fall has made him a murderer on top of everything else, but she WILL remember him, now.

there are other people i was wrong about, but that’s...for later.

WHERE I WAS RIGHT AND IT DIDN’T MATTER

Ruby, Blake and Weiss are all in superhell, so on paper i was right, but...well. sing it if you know the words. the reason i’m putting them in their own section is because it’s not just that they fell and didn’t jump like i thought; it’s that they would not have jumped, and that changes everything. you know how i realized that we would lose everyone, and not by choice? it was Weiss. it was when Weiss said we have to do this for Yang. Jaune had reminded Nora of what was priority one minutes before, but the implications of that didn’t sink in for me until Weiss confirmed it. they PLANNED for this. not just the eventuality where they would have to die, but the one where they’d have to watch everyone else die and do nothing except keep going.

which...has implications. the best way to read this--and i think we’re all dying for some good news--is that even if it certainly does not feel that way, RWBY was able to snatch a partial victory from Salem’s claws. they lost the Relics, but they got the Maiden powers away, and most importantly: they saved Atlas and Mantle. by the time Jaune intervened Grand Central was empty. there was no one left to evacuate. they didn’t get everyone, but they got a lot. even before Cinder intervened so catastrophically they knew how many things could go wrong, so they made a plan, and largely stuck to it. on a purely material level they only lost one thing vital to the war effort--the Staff. but they got everyone else out, which was priority one. the show in general and this arc in particular has emphasized that our heroes don’t think they should be exceptionalized, that they’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure everyone is given the treatment and respect they deserve, and they’ve made good on that. they’re Huntresses, and Huntresses be thou for the people. they chose, and they won what mattered to THEM.

but on the flip side: they chose, and there’s no way to read this choice as anything but a compromise...and a very Atlesian one at that. when confronted with calculus similar to the one JYR faced after they lost Oscar in War, our heroes chose...the opposite. one, then three, then four, then five, then six for the many. what was that number compared to two entire cities’ worth of people, especially when they’re the ones who signed up for this? i’m not trying to take this down the slippery slope where our heroes are no better than the dictator they just dethroned, because when the time came for sacrifice they chose themselves first. but it remains a sacrifice, which means that when the time came to test the hard moral limit they set for themselves, they...moved. they decided ahead of time that some risks aren’t worth taking. that this is not a situation where everyone wins, so they had to go for the next best thing, then the next best thing after that, and so on. i’m honestly not sure where it points to yet, except my usual refrain that this show is a lot less didactic than it seems, but...yeah. this is going to lead to some invigorating discussions in-universe.

and maybe it’ll start with this: that Jaune and Weiss--the two who had to verbally advocate for leaving the fallen behind--fell last of all, which means they had to watch everyone else go first. and the last person they saw was the same person. Weiss, who executed the plan to brilliant perfection, saw the past--the first family she ever had--streaking after her in an endless void, forsaking the priorities they all agreed upon, for her. Jaune, who followed the plan to execution and broke a part of himself, saw the new Maiden he crowned, backlit and pulled away by the bright future that he ensured was possible, but can no longer access.

QUEENMAKER

i’m starting with Penny, because Penny came first. there has already been a ton of discussion on the ways that she’ll come back, and while i absolutely agree that she will, for now i am not so much interested in that as i am in eulogizing this Penny. the Penny we had just now, not identical but continuous with the Penny we had before that, in the same way that everyone is not identical but continuous with who they were in the past. the Penny who IS dead, her eventual resurrection notwithstanding.

because she DID die, and her death matters. that’s the thing about the deaths in this season, and it furthers my point re: RWBY’s presumed didacticism--the show’s treatment of death has changed as our heroes have changed. it is no longer (and never was) as simple as “death and sacrifice are always senseless waste,” and more something like...”death has to matter, and we will give it meaning.” Hazel and Vine sacrificed themselves, and the fact both resulted in a “positive” outcome (more lives saved) does not make the deaths any less tragic. but neither should the tragedy of it take away from the fact that they saved lives. what separates our heroes from a Salem or a James Ironwood even now is that they recognize the importance of grievable life even as they accept inevitable death, that what is worth it all about preserving life is not to make sure that lives go on forever, but that lives have meaning and are remembered, that when you’re gone the people who are still here respect you enough to carry that meaning with them. it’s a tenuous balance to walk, but all the more important for that reason.

Penny--though her death can and will be reversed--is much the same. in every arc there has been a Game of Three Maidens (which i guess would make shogi the better metaphor and not chess because--what AM i on about), and in every Game there has been sacrifice. and i thought that would encompass Winter, here. we’d get away with it not being literal death, since Fria already took care of that, but she would be trapped on the other side of the gate--in pretty much the exact same position James Ironwood ended up in the episode itself, actually. it just seemed obvious: she’s the decoy, the one who missed the call by inches, the last revealed defector when there still was an Atlas from which to defect. all of it pointed to Winter’s story ending with one last delay barring her from salvation, of her finally being too late...

and well. i WASN’T wrong in the broad strokes, but first there was Penny Polendina. Penny could have let Jaune try to save her and Weiss die for her, but she knew she had to make a different choice to save as many lives as possible. so she offered herself up as the sacrifice instead. last week i waxed prolonged poetic about how Winter defected so recently, how it has been just IronwoodandWinter for so long, how Winter doesn’t have a team and only the healing shreds of a family, how no one would think to look for her...and then Penny did. you were my friend. (given Winter’s rough age and the hazy creation dates for the PENNY Project, it’s possible that Winter is Penny’s OLDEST friend.) Penny thought of Winter as she was dying, thought about the good Winter could do if Winter had her powers, believed in Winter, and in doing so, saved Winter’s life before anyone else’s.

she ceded the spotlight to Winter in this last episode, but this season as a whole belongs to Penny Polendina--the myriad ways she creates herself, the ways she defends her self-creation, ultimately culminating in her new body, created by no one but herself. but for her final act the Maiden of Creation did something different and no less miraculous: i thought of you. a thought was all it took.

she created someone else.

KINGSLAYER | THE MAIDEN THAT WAS PROMISED

the thing about Winter is that she came first.

no, i’m serious. i checked the fairy tale and everything--Winter came first. as the Wizard’s first visitor she encouraged him to reflect and meditate, and when probed about why she was here at all, she answered: i am waiting for my sisters. Spring and Summer have to wait, too, of course, but. Winter was the first.

Jacques and Willow named their firstborn Winter. it is not the way this story begins, but it is certainly is one of them, because the story begins with Winter, and Winter begins the story--a new retelling, a new cycle of heroism. we’ve since been introduced to other characters in that indeterminate age group between RWBY and STRQ, but Winter--by virtue of being Weiss’ older sister--anchors herself to the new generation in a way those others (even Cinder, who comes closest) do not. she started things, in the mythical emblematic way that this show likes to move, and the way she started things--the way she MADE herself start things, thanks to the house she grew up in--was with love, and protection. she took care of Weiss and laid the groundwork for the person Weiss is today, and conversely: she took care of Weiss, and through Weiss, laid the groundwork for herself and how to take care of everyone. so eventually the steel thread she tied to Weiss she also linked to Whitley, to Penny, to Marrow, to all the people they love, and on and on it goes. Winter loved Weiss, so she made herself learn how to love Weiss, and so when i say she started things what i mean is she started family. a new home, for a new generation of the orphaned.

Winter came first. but as the show demonstrates time and again, especially with Winter: first does not mean best. because being first also means you’re the prototype, a volatile thing that must be tested and tempered and then discarded to make way for what comes after, what gets improved. and it is THIS part of being first that Winter has internalized most of all. Winter, the first Maiden, taught the Wizard peace and prepared the earth so that her sisters could grow and foster and harvest the life within it; Winter, the first Schnee, laid the groundwork in her siblings, but did not wait for them. and let herself fallow in the process. she left, and every time they tried to follow or stay with her she sent them away. (she keeps sending them away; even after defecting and taking down Ironwood, the first thing she says to JNPER is go.) Winter laid the first stone in the foundation, but she cannot take credit for the home her family turned it into, for all the ways it has flourished, because she willfully absented herself of that (birth)right.

and the reason she did this was very simple: she was afraid. she could not bear the thought that while she had to learn how to love she made mistakes, the idea that instead of preparing the earth she might have poisoned the well. so she ran. she turned her face away so she would not have to look, so they would not look to her. she left, and every time one of her siblings superseded her after that, every time she was made to be their Esau--passed over--it just seemed to confirm that she was right to leave. look how well they’ve all done without her.

in the stories, eldest siblings aren’t here to win. they’re here to be made an example of, and Winter...had resigned herself to that. she was prepared to be left behind for good by all the people who have outpaced her.

but then there was Penny Polendina. Penny didn’t follow her, or try to stay; Penny came back for her. Penny remembered Winter when all Winter wanted was to be forgotten, because she’d gotten it in her head that it was what she deserved for all the things she’d done or enabled or failed to do. why did Penny remember Winter? because you were my friend. there is no divine complexity to it, nothing for Winter to fall hopeless short of. there is only the fact that Winter gave Penny something, made something together with Penny, even as she was trying her hardest not to, for fear that she would create something terrible. and this does not take away from all the ways Winter did fall short, but it is still SOMETHING. and it is enough.

it was your power, after all. Penny means the Maiden powers, but she also means THIS Maiden’s power: the power to create. you made this home, Penny is saying to Winter, you should get to reap its fruit, even if you weren’t around for the labor. all you have to do is say yes.

this was a gift. she says yes. she accepts, because in the end Winter Schnee loves her family more than she hates herself.

but then--

(a gift for what? Winter will ask herself wretchedly later, after she has failed in the two tasks she thinks Penny set for her.)

the thing about Winter is that she came first. she taught Weiss everything she knows, and she was so busy doing that she never had the time to show Weiss everything she feels. so in the end what Weiss never predicted was that for all of her team’s painful planning, for all of her own pained enforcement of that plan...none of it was a match for her sister. that when the time came it was would be WINTER who defaults to the absolute ideal of “no one gets left behind,” of “every life” meaning every life, priority one be damned.

or that Winter, in trying to choose both, in finally and fiercely trying, with surely enough power to make a difference, would fail.

what are you doing? Winter heard as she watched Weiss fall into nothingness. my life doesn’t matter.

so here, then, is the story of Winter in The Final Word: a girl returns home after having left it, but in this version it is the home who has changed and the girl who has not. and from this both are unmade. but she gets to live, because she was invited back home. and she gets to go through the portal as its last passenger, into the Promised Land.

and she is still the Maiden of Creation. even after all this, THAT is still her task. to build a refuge for her people, to collect the broken strands of the family she began and her siblings continued and expanded and reinforced, and gather them up again into a new home. it will be impossible, but at the same time: she has done this before.

and this time, she will wait for her sisters.

(a gift for what? for nothing, would be the answer. gifts aren’t FOR anything. they’re gifts.)

#typeoneninja #rwby #helen writes meta #VERY LONG OBSCENELY LONG META CANNOT EMPHASIZE HOW LONG #at least it didn't take me a whole month this time

[swtki]

Three Spots -L.L

Chapter 3 // Previous

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Fem! Reader (but as exes), Loki Laufeyson x Sylvie Laufeydottir

Summary: The end approaches, but what does it solve?

Warnings: mentions of previous chapter so the same warnings as for that one, bad bitch behavior, cycles of grief (?), swearing.

A/N: Playlist is in bold as usual.

Everything moved so fast, she felt like she had Motion Sickness. One day she was head over heels for Loki, the next she was burning his shit. Funny how it didn’t help that much, she still cried herself to sleep every night.

“Brother, It Will Rain.” Thor said, a hand on the other mans shoulder. “When it does, I hope you can conjure up an umbrella that can withstand fire and acid.” Loki gave a weak smile.

Sylvie and Loki weren’t exactly together, their love was a kind of Skinny Love. All bones and nothing else. Harsh corners but no cushion. It wasn’t like how he and Y/N were, and he didn’t know why that was. He loved himself, so shouldn’t Sylvie be more than enough?

“Nope! Not Allowed!” Snapped Natasha, guarding the cracked open doorway with her body. “Leave her the fuck alone, go suck yourself off. Or I guess get your female version to do it for you.”

“Natasha, please I just need to see her. I want to make this right.” Loki begged to see his ex lover, who was behind the bed, hiding from him. “All I Wanted to say is that there is nobody who will ever compare to you-“ Loki was cut off when the door slammed closed. He huffed, but in his usual fashion he wouldn’t give up.

“Please, take it for a Test Drive? Try going outside of the room? It’s not healthy, everyone is worried.” Wanda pleaded with her, it had been a week since anyone other than Wanda and Natasha saw the girl.

“I don’t wanna…don’t wanna see him. Not with her. I think I’d die. Or kill.” Wanda places a hand on her shoulder.

“But, Y/N, he’s weak now. He’s been waddling around with a Jar of Hearts held out in front of him, one tap thats strong enough, and he’s down.” Natasha took another approach to consoling, a prospect of revenge.

A few days passed before Y/N crept outside of her room to get something to eat from the kitchen. It felt good, to only be surrounded by friends. But she knew as the weeks came and went; She’d see Loki eventually. Still, Thor was like a brother to her; and she a sister to him. “Ah! Lady Y/N how radiant you look these days!” he complimented her, knowing full well that Loki was around the corner.

“Well, Tears Dry On Their Own; Regardless if your brother is there to wipe them away this time. Which, he isn’t. He won’t even be allowed within two feet if he wants to be safe.”

Loki stayed away, even though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her as hard as he could. He wanted to go back to when she was happy with him, when he was loyal to her. But he knew she was no longer the girl who would take his pathetic self back, she was strong; and it terrified him. It took him two weeks to make himself known in her presence, he didn’t speak to her as he knew it would cause chaos.

Eventually, a month had passed. He knew he could try and speak to her because she had said “Thank you.” to him when he passed her the salt. Yes, he knew it was fucking pathetic; but he didn’t care. Because at the end of the day, she talked to him.

“When I Was Your Man, I don’t remember you laughing as hard as you do now.” It was true, she had never smiled quite so wide in the time they had spent together. As much as it hurt him to see her without him, he was delighted to see her smile.

“Yeah, you’re now my man anymore, Loki. Therefore I Am full of laughter. Crazy how that works.” Her tone was cold, full of pent up anger ready to boil over at any second. Loki took the hint, slipping away to his quarters as to not bother her anymore. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy; What better time for him to bump into Tony Stark on the way.

“Hey, Reindeer Games, You & Jennifer figure out other boarding plans?” Loki raised his eyebrow, not sure of what the mortal man was speaking of.

“Sylvie and me? No, we’re not moving in together. I plan to stay in my quarters and she can float around the galaxy as she pleases.” Tony’s lips spread into a wide,displeased expression.

“You aren’t staying, dickwad. I may have let Y/N keep you here as her plus one but not now. You’re not even part of our team, how could you be; you tried murdering all of us more than once? I gotta make space for the new kid anyway.” Loki’s stomach went cold when he realized what Tony was saying; he was being kicked to the curb. He was never accepted by the rest of the tower, they just put up with him for her sake.

“Who?” Loki scoffed, instinctually defensive.

“Spider boy just graduated, and seeing as how he is part of our team, he’s gonna need somewhere to sleep. Look, I’m giving you two days, get your shit together, sleep at the TVA; I don’t care, just don’t be here.” What was bad was now worse, where could he go? Mobius wasn’t exactly a phone call away, and he didn’t really want to go sleep in the archive section of the TVA library. But what other choice did he have?

“Y/N, I love you, but why do you always fall for the Black Sheep? I mean you’re so much better than Loki, why do you put up with these guys?” Natasha leaned down to her friend, her best attempt at being sensitive.

“‘Dunno. I shouldn’t fall for bad guys, I know. But, I thought Loki was different. Guess I was wrong.” She still wasn’t completely over it all, but she was leaning towards being able to talk about it. “I want him to be in pain, y’know? God, I sound so Selfish. But really, Nat, I just wanna see him burn.” She admits, pulling her knees into her chest.

“I mean, Good 4 U. I think you should feel that way, he deserves nothing but your anger.” Y/N shrugged in response, feeling an empty pit in her stomach both beginning to close and open up even more.

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