#no other story has done that but then again no other story has devastated me to the point where i refuse to pick it up a second time

[hardlyinteresting]

Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k  Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes. 

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches. 

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself. 

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser. 

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out. 

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate. 

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing. 

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you. 

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”. 

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse. 

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?” 

“I told you. She’s a colleague”. 

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on. 

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are. 

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people. 

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing. 

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want.  Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life. 

“Please, Hotc--”. 

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it. 

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage? 

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

 At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.  

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave. 

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. 

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”. 

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now. 

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes. 

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that. 

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself. 

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off. 

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you. 

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals. 

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees--  healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same. 

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist. 

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss. 

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be. 

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear. 

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words. 

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say. 

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron. 

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet. 

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic. 

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay. 

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you. 

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with. 

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.  

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him. 

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

[natailiatulls07]

The golden trio Pt 5

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - a cringy pick up line, cheating, slight argument and swearing

A/n - I’ve been ill all weekend so I have just been getting some things done so you are getting loads this weekend

There is also kind of a time skip half way through, but you’ll know when 🤍

How is everyone feeling about todays Grand Prix?? 🥹

The golden trio

-

Text (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)

Hey, are you lighting cause I make you McQueen 😉

Lando Norris are you trying to use a pick up line on me?? 😳

Of course darling, just trying to shoot my shot

Well in that case if you want to shoot your shot, take me on a date

Tomorrow 6pm I pick you up

Do I get to know where we’re going Mr Norris??

Nope. I’ll see you then 😘

See you tomorrow 6 pm 🤍

yourusername has posted a story

Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Red: Charles) (Blue: Max)

Hey Bee, me and Charlie have found a new film wanna do a movie night tonight??

Yeah! It looks like a great film, we think you’ll like it 😁

Oh I’m sorry guys, I have a date tonight…

A date?!

With who!??

Um…Lando 🤭

Wait what?? Has finally come to his senses and remembered that night?!

Idk, he sent me a very cringy pick up line to shoot his shot

Yeah and then what??

I then said if he wanted to shoot his shot he should take me on a date so yeah he’s picking me up at 6

Ohhhh so that’s why you were busy all day

Yep, I was getting my nails done and doing some last minute pieces

Well we’ll probably see you just before you leave so I won’t give you the talk just yet 😇

Now I’m considering sneaking out 😅

Don’t you dare young lady!!

lando.jpg

Shooting my shot for her 😍

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 63,935 others

username I want dates like this 😩

username Lando taking photos of their date is just to make us jealous 😤

= username Well it worked 🫤

charles_leclerc Don’t forget about her curfew

= lando.jpg Of course, don’t want to get on the big brothers bad sides 😳

= username Overprotective brothers!!!

Texts (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)

I had a great time last night, thank you 🥰

Of course, I had to win you over and I hope I’ve done that 🤞🏻

You were successful in winning me over

Yayyy!! Wanna do it again some time?

I’d be a fool to turn that down 😅

-

yourusername

Monthly dump 😚

Liked by carlossainz55 and 63,826 others

username Not Y/n posting Lando’s back like we don’t know who she’s dating like girl we know, it’s okay 😂

username The food is making me HUNGRY!!

username She’s just like us, posting the ‘worst’ photos of her bestfriends lol

landonorris Who’s that in the McLaren hoodie?? 😏

= yourusername Idk but he uses some cringy pick up lines 😃

username Not Max being an iPad kid 🫣

f1gossip

Spotted: Lando Norris sharing a kiss with another girl whilst Y/n L/n is seen shopping on the other side of Monte Carlo

Liked username and 2,383 others

username Isn’t Lando and Y/n a thing??

= username Yeah…

= username That means he’s cheating on her 🫢

= username Yeah…

username Why?? Lando why??!

username No I can’t, I just can’t today no!!

username He continues to fuck up my ship! FUCK!

Texts (White: Reader) (Orange: Lando)

Baby I’m so sorry!

No you can’t go ‘baby’ me. No not after you go and kiss another girl Lando.

It’s not what it looks like, please let me explain

Go on then explain why you were passionately kissing another girl in your car

Seen 4 mins ago

I can’t, I’m so sorry darling

Please it didn’t mean anything to me honestly

Baby? Y/n??

I love you sweetheart

Twitter

username Lando Norris you are gonna need to hide from Max and Charles once they see what you’ve done mate 😳

username He has fucked up so much!

username I bet she’s devastated, poor girl 🥺

username Every thing is okay, everything is okay, everything is okay… we’re fucked

Text (Blue: Max V) (Orange: Lando)

Look I’ve tried to talk to Y/n but I’ve just fucked it all up I’m sorry

Yeah you can say that again. Mate if you’ve come here trying to get cut of any slack you might want to think again

I know, I just wish I didn’t do it

Yk that girl LOVES you, she has been the happiest she has ever been since she started getting hate but you fucked that up

Yeah

Charlie and I have tried to get her out of her bedroom but nothing so you gotta think of something and fast

I will, I’m sorry

I know you’re sorry, please don’t think that me and Charlie hate you because we don’t

Thank you, she’s lucky to have you guys

We’re just abit annoyed that she has been hurt once again

-

Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @ravisinghs-wife

#formula one #formula one x reader #charles leclerc #lando norris #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #carlos sainz #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles lechair #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #red bull formula 1 #forza ferrari #mclaren racing

[randombush3]

Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me. 

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy. 

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key. 

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.) 

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away. 

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm. 

I jerk it away from her. 

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies. 

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it. 

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more. 

My dreams. 

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach. 

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry. 

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough. 

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!” 

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else. 

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?” 

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–” 

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.” 

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity. 

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.” 

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible. 

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it. 

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again. 

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it. 

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.” 

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming. 

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

#woso #randombush3 #woso fanfics #woso imagines #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

[thecampjuicebox]

I always wondered how the romanced companions would react if Orin kidnapped the player character. Any thoughts?

Be prepared for some angst because PHEEEEWWWWW

Astarion

At this point in the story, romanced Astarion and Tav are very close. He even states that Tav is the only person he's ever cared for, so I can imagine he'd be devastated if his beloved was taken by Orin. He'd take a relatively unhinged approach to saving them, running in with fangs bared. Daggers swinging. He'd make quick work of Orin, slicing and dicing to save his love. They've always done so much to save him so he'd feel it was his duty to do the same in this instance. Once he's able to hold them in his arms again, he'd allow himself to cry. Sob, even. He'd hold them close, smooth their hair back, bury his face in their neck to deeply inhale their familiar scent, but not until telling them how stupid they were for allowing themselves to be kidnapped by the shape-changer in the first place.

Karlach

Tav is Karlach's first taste of intimate touch in YEARS. Her first taste of love for as long as she can remember. When she finds out Tav is the one taken by the shape-changer, it would break her. Shatter her into a million burning pieces. Her engine would run hotter than the searing fires of Avernus. She'd yell and spit and grab the nearest bludgeoning object she could to absolutely decimate Orin where she stands. The pale eyed woman has caused enough problems and with Karlach's already crushed morale after seeing Gortash again, she'd go absolutely ape shit. She'd fall to her knees in front of Tav. Hug their legs. Cry as she rubs her nose across their thighs. Cling to them like a child. "Don't ever leave me again, Soldier. I can't bear it."

Wyll

First and foremost Wyll, I think, would be the most level headed in this situation. He'd quickly devise a plan to save his love. The Blade of Frontiers or the Blade of Avernus, either way, he'll prove his heroism and his devotion to Tav. No one lays a finger on his prince/princess. Their Devil in shining armor. He'd make an entrance similar to when Tav first encounters him in the Emerald Grove. Bold and brave, ready to dominate the fight. And once Tav is assured safe, he'd sweet them off of their feet. Shower them in love and praise of their bravery during this traumatic event.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart is very reserved and quiet about her feelings and thoughts. If her love was taken by Orin, I think she'd play calm about it while absolutely losing it inside. She's mentioned previously that she isn't one for romances, more just short lived flings. With Tav, however. It's incredibly different. She'd rally the other companions and rush into Bhaal's temple to find Orin. Slay here right there. And then take Tav into her arms and check them other, make sure the shape-changer caused them no serious harm. If she had, Shadowheart would heal them. Make them feel safe once more.

Lae'Zel

Lae'Zel's love of Tav goes from 0-100 real quick, and hearing that Tav was taken by an enemy, I think she'd LOSE it. Lae'Zel has not known love like her love for Tav. Tav showed her freedom and no one is going to take that away from her now. She's not known to show very intense emotions, but I think she would let herself cry this time. Lae'Zel is trained in combat so taking Orin down would not be a difficult feat with the help of the other companions. Once Tav is safe, she'd embrace them with all of her strength. Hold them close to her as she mumbles softly in their ear "Zhak vo'nfynh duj. Source of my joy."

Gale

Gale is such a soft lover. His prior relationship with Mystra caused a lot of trauma and I think his romance with Tav is his key to being happy again. With himself and in general. Even the threat of having to blow himself up is softened by Tav's presence. "One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart." Once he learns that Tav was taken, I know for a fact he'd go into bad bitch mode. He'd storm his little wizard self right into Bhaal's temple and fireball the hells out of Orin before she could get a word in edgewise. Where'd all this courage come from? The lovely idea that after all of this is over and Tav is safe, they can return to the illusory scene of his tower in Waterdeep and reside there whenever the feeling arises. Not without a lecture on why it wasn't the smartest idea to get kidnapped, though.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcannons #companion headcannons #gale dekarios #karlach #astarion #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 11

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 8.3k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn A/N: LADIES N GENTLEMEN, THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! there are multiple POV changes in this, I'm training yall for the arena and Mockingjay. FYI: I was so disheartened bc this felt like the worst past I've written for this story :(((

Past (xii) - Finnick

[ 21 & 22] - DISTRICT FOUR

Finnick is sitting at his desk, probably looking as worn out and exhausted as he feels. It’s the early hours of the morning, and he hasn’t slept for the past two days. He’s been writing for hours, trying to find the right words to say. The sun had just set when he poured himself into the seat, and now, he glances to his left, the first tendrils of sunlight are peaking up.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of Finnick's labored breathing. His hands are shaking, a side effect of the stress that has been building inside him like a pressure cooker. Snow's visit has left him reeling, unable to process the implications of the deal he's been forced to make. He knows he has to write you a letter, but the thought fills him with a sense of despondency. Something that normally fills him with insurmountable excitement and anticipation fills him with devastation. It feels like, like…there’s nothing he can compare it to. Not everything feels like something else and Finnick knows this kind of grief is very rarely experienced. 

What is he supposed to do? He hasn’t opened the last letter you sent, knowing it will be the last one that won’t carry the weight of mourning. He knows that you'll write to him again, that you won’t take this lying down. You’ll write and write, and he will...he will do nothing.

It sits in front of him, innocuous and unassuming. Something devastating folded in a green envelope and wrapped in your scent like a well-dressed bomb. Does his fear outweigh his longing for you?

He picks it up, holding it gingerly in his hands.

No, he realizes, it doesn’t.

He’s careful to tear the seal on the flap and your perfume wafts up like a surprise. He takes a deep breath, savoring the scent, trying to steel himself for what comes next.

Dear Finn,

I feel like I’ve missed you longer than I’ve had the chance to know you. It's been three months now, but maybe by the time this letter gets to you, we'll both be on our way to the Capitol. I'm working on being more optimistic, but that uphill battle is becoming steeper the longer I'm away from you. 

I keep thinking about when I first met you. When I looked into your eyes, I didn't see fireworks exploding or any of that other shit they depict in those gaudy Capitol romance novels. I looked into your eyes and saw you, something far more breathtaking than fireworks. And what a sight you were.

Three years back, you said something I never agreed with, that it was hard to love you. At the moment, I didn’t get to say what I really wanted to because I was eighteen and the thought of being so emotionally vulnerable made my teeth itch. 

I wanted to say that you aren't hard to love. I wanted to say loving you has been the easiest thing I have ever done. And that's why it was so difficult. I could never let myself love you—let myself have you because how could I possibly deserve to? But that’s the kicker. It’s not hard to love you, Finn, it’s impossible not to.

Something happened recently that made me realize that I’m not the most forthcoming person when it comes to my feelings. But, Finn, know that my love for you is never in doubt. How I feel about you may be complex, but it’s not complicated. I love you desperately, humanly, simply. Without even trying, you peel me back to my core, but if you only dug a little deeper you’d find your picture framed and hanging along the walls of my soul. 

I miss you, more than I was prepared to—and I was prepared to miss you considerably.

We may not be next to each other, but we’re under the same sky, and each glowing point on that backdrop of black is a star—a sun at the center of someone’s solar system. 

In some other universe, on a different Earth, there’s a girl in love with a boy whose freckles run like constellations. On another, there’s a girl who’s in love with how her boy’s eyes squint when he smiles.

That's the one constant. There are billions of stars, billions of universes, and I love you in every one of them. 

Tears are blurring his vision before he can read how you close the letter and he has to sit back as the full weight of what he’s about to do hits him all at once. Your words are like a balm to his soul, but they burn him just as much as they soothe him. A reminder of what he’s losing just as much as a reminder of what he’s fighting for. There was never a need to put a label on what you two had, what you were to each other, because it would never be replicated. It had always just been ‘yours’ . Now, with a flick of his pen, it’ll be nothing.

Maybe , he thinks, maybe there’s a way I can explain why I’m doing this, some kind of code or something. Maybe I can still meet with her, just in secret. But Snow …It always comes back to Snow. 

Snow reads these letters, and surely he'll be more vigilant of Finnick to make sure he keeps his side of the deal. Besides, if you knew the real reason he’s doing this—that it’s against his will, that he wouldn’t even think to do this in his worst nightmare—you’ll latch on, consequences be damned. 

He’s doing this for you. He has to remind himself that it’s your life on the line here, not just his heart.

Still. 

He's careful when folding the letter back, only bending it along the preexisting lines. He sets it beside himself. 

He picks up a piece of paper from the stack in front of him tucked against the wall, twirling his pen along his fingers. His leg bounces, nails tapping on the desk. 

He writes something down and comes to a stuttering halt. It isn't good enough. He crumbles it up, throws it in the trash, and picks up a new one. 

Write, crumble, trash, repeat. 

He's stuck in a loop, unable to find the right words. The pressure is building, and he can feel himself starting to crack. He needs to get this done, needs to find a way to say goodbye.

Write, crumble, trash, repeat. 

He's lost track of time, doesn't know how long he's been sitting here. The words are eluding him, and he's starting to feel like he's lost his grip on reality.

Finally, he puts pen to paper and the words flow out of him like a dam breaking. He writes about his love for you, about how much he misses you, about how impossible it is to imagine a future without you. He writes about his fear and his grief, about the weight of the world on his shoulders. He writes you goodbye. 

When he's done, he holds your letter carefully, tucking it back into its envelope. He knows what he has to do, knows that there's no turning back now. 

With trembling hands, he picks up the tan envelope and slides his letter inside. He seals it with a kiss, feeling the weight of his decision like a physical burden. 

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and places the letter on the stack in front of him. It's done. The words are written, the decision made. 

He sits back in his chair, feeling numb and hollow. He doesn't know what comes next, but he knows that he'll face it head-on. For you.

Past (xii) - You 

[21 & 22] - DISTRICT ELEVEN

Finnick's reply came faster than you expected it to. 

You plop down in your office chair, giddy as you rub at your sore cheeks. You've been smiling like an idiot since you picked up the letter from the Mayor's office. You tear into the envelope and pause. 

The words are kind of smudged, dried drops of something smearing the ink. Luckily, you can still read it. 

My heart, 

My moon and stars. 

I must have rewritten these words at least a dozen times by now. You should see the pile of crumpled paper next to me. You'd call it wasteful, but I'm sure you'd be secretly charmed by how nervous you make me after all these years. 

There's no way to dance around it, and I know how much you hate when people mince their words.

It pains me to think it, let alone write it. This will be my last letter to you. 

I know you have a hundred and one questions bouncing around that beautiful brain of yours, you'll want to know why. And the answer is, there is no why. I've decided that it's best, for both of us, to stop. Stop the letters, stop the meetings. 

It ends here. 

I don't want you to hate me. But if that makes it easier for you to stay away from me, then despise me. More than the Peacekeepers, more than the Capitol, more than Snow. Take that loathing and hold onto it like you used to hold me. 

But, selfishly, I want you to know what I'll be holding onto. 

Those little moments outside of time where you and I were the center of each other's universe, two stars orbiting each other. The balcony of my room, the floor of yours. 

I want you to know this because I don't want you to doubt that I love you. 

Because I do. I love you. I could say it a thousand times, and it still wouldn't be enough. I could say it until my tongue falls off and I'd find a way to sign it to you. 

I could live a thousand lifetimes, be a thousand different people, and I will never love someone like I love you. 

I think of your smile and I fall in love again. I think of your touch and I fall in love again. I won't leave you without you knowing this. I'd sooner stop breathing. 

There are plenty of things I should be thanking you for, but if I tried to make a list, I'd run out of paper. 

I felt...free with you. As free as anyone can be in our situation. I've never felt so close to another person before—I never let myself. 

I thought it would pass eventually, like a sand castle when it's high tide. Noticeable, beautiful, but temporary.

But I can tell you now, that was such bullshit . Since that first dance, there was never a moment I wasn’t in love with you. I loved you before I knew I was capable of it, before I knew I had it in me, and you had my heart before I even knew it was there. I saw the thorns of your past and held my hands out, ready to bleed if it meant I could touch you.

And that scared me. The very thing that gave me strength was my biggest weakness. That’s a hard pill to swallow at sixteen and it’s just as daunting at twenty-two. 

Years ago, you asked me if I could wish for anything, what would it be. I still wish I was a different person, someone you could be proud of. And I wish that person got to grow old with you. 

God, you don't know how badly I want to grow old with you.  

I have no doubt that there's a planet out there under a different sun where we end up together. Hand and hand with the two kids we always talked about. A little girl that'll have me wrapped around her finger because she'll look just like you. And a little boy that'll drive you up the wall because he's a little too much like me. That universe is where my heart lives.  

We'll find it someday, just you and me. Until then, they'll find our love written in the stars. In every constellation.  

-Yours until words lose meaning,  

Finnick O.  

You reread the letter. Then reread it again. You keep rereading it until the words refuse to sit still, letters blurring together. 

It ends here? What’s he talking about? He can't possibly mean the two of you. He can't. 

But he’s ending it. He ended it . Why would he—? He said there’s no reason, but…but there has to be. 

You try to think of anything you did—anything you said that could have led to this but you're coming up blank. 

This doesn't make any sense. It doesn't line up with the Finnick you know. 

The letter says that he loves you, and you thought you knew he loved you, but it’s pretty hard to believe that when he’s leaving you.

He promised he'd stay with you, he promised , and Finnick doesn't break his promises. Not with you. No. Not after everything you've been through together. You only have each other. 

The paper falls from your trembling hands to the desk. 

No . You only have Finnick. But, Finnick—he doesn't want you anymore, right? So, where does that leave you? What else do you have? 

A grandfather clock ticks in the background, though it sounds muted to your ears. 

You look down at the paper and find wet spots, ink more smeared than it was before. Your cheeks are wet. Are you crying?

Stupid. You wipe at your cheeks roughly—angrier at yourself than you are at him. There are a million and one reasons this could have happened and they all begin and end with you. You have no one to blame but yourself.

You know what it feels like for your body to break. What it feels like to be drained down to your skin, nerves, muscles, and bones. You've come eerily close to knowing what it feels like to have your mind broken. 

But this is new. This is what it feels like to have your heart broken. It's sudden, and it rips you apart on its way in. Not an arrow, but a knife. Quicker than you thought it'd be, but it hurts just the same. 

You’re so cold. You don't think you've ever been this cold before. Not even when you were nine and you got such bad hyperthermia that you couldn’t work for the rest of the winter. He always ran hot, you think distantly. And all his warmth has left you. 

You hold on to yourself because no one else will. You would have preferred your body breaking. At least that heals. 

“I can’t,” you weep, stuttering over betrayal and loss, “I can’t do this on my own.”

You press your forehead into the desk, your body shaking with the sobs you’re holding back. It hurts so bad. Pain sitting rooted in your chest, sharp and rigid like a peach pit. Your heart doesn’t beat, it throbs . Throbs like a festering wound, irritated and infected. 

You pull at your shirt and dig your nails into your chest. Maybe if you press hard enough through the skin and fascia and muscles you could pull out the problem.

But that’s impossible. There’s nothing there. It’s the absence that hurts, that gaping Finnick-shaped hole. You wanted to give him your heart, but not like this.

Did you get ahead of yourself? Thinking anything could last with someone who shines as bright as him? Maybe…maybe if you were a little more like him, if you shined just as bright. 

You scoff. 

You’re not a star, you’re not even the moon. How can the sun love the same darkness it chases away?

He described the ocean to you once. Vast and endless, like it could go on forever. And he told you about all the people who get lost at sea. Now you’re one of them. 

You have capsized, water rushing up past your neck and into your mouth and nose, just as salty as your tears. Your lungs burn from the lack of air, you can’t breathe and no one will come for you because you're as good as dead.

Here you sit in your study in your home that isn’t really yours, far away from any ocean, but you're drowning anyway. 

You drown and you drown and you drown and you do it alone.

Present (X) - Finnick 

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL

It’s a last resort, a unanimous choice between them all. A wordless decision that the victors made to appeal to the Capitol citizens. Though they’re all using different means, it’s all for the same result. That’s what Finnick has to remind himself when he’s called on stage after Beetee. 

The crowd screams at his entrance and he locks his hands behind his back. He smiles while nodding to his adoring fans as he stands beside Caesar.

“Finnick, I understand that you have a message for somebody out there. A special somebody.” The crowd hoots and hollers at the dramatics of it all and the idea of one of them being the special someone close to his heart. He chuckles and looks down. The Capitols being painfully predictable is finally paying off. All according to plan. “Can we hear it?”

He could spew some generic flowery shit that could apply to literally anyone he’s come in contact with, but…

He looks at the camera. There will be fourteen victors coming up to perform before you, so you should still be in your dressing room. Are you watching? Watching him?

"My love, my star . My heart is yours. And…and if I had to pick a place to die, it would be in the warmth of your arms. Your smile, the last thing I see and your lips, the last thing I taste. Everything I have ever done, I have done for you.”

Caesar pouts at the audience as they coo at his love letter and he wishes they never heard it. He wishes he could have said it to you directly. Those words, they’re yours and they should have been for your ears only. And, yet, here he is, relaying his heart to you through a screen. Look how far we’ve fallen, Star. 

“Oh, my. That’s very touching, Finnick. Isn’t it? I’m sure whoever it is, is listening and feeling truly loved.” 

“I hope you’re right, Caesar.”

They allowed Mags to opt out of her interview on account of her not being able to speak. How kind , he scoffs. And as he settles on the raised platform beside her, he briefly squeezes her hand. 

You okay? He mouths and she nods with a smile. 

One by one, each victor comes with their own approach to sway the masses. Oh, he knows there's no way they'll be canceling the games. Finnick is more likely to drain the ocean with a teaspoon before Snow even considers stopping this cruelty. But it’s worth a shot, he supposes. It can’t possibly make going into the arena any worse.

Besides Johanna's impassioned speech, nothing the other victors do stands out to him. Then, you're called out.  

He sinks his teeth into his lip as the audience applauds at your entrance.

From what he can recall, your outfit is a remix of the dress you wore in your first interview as if it has aged and matured with you. It’s gained a long train and the hip-high thigh slits that your stylist is known for.

You blow kisses to the crowd and they, understandably, go wild. You turn to Caesar with a smile and the overhead lights shine on you, painting your skin in soft lighting like a blanket. He takes a breath. And another, until he notices he’s breathing in sync with you.

He blinks when the crowd breaks into raucous laughter and he realizes he’s missed something.

"Oh, we all know just how shy you are." Caesar smiles, holding his laugh behind clenched teeth in that way of his that reminds Finnick of an overachieving beaver. The crowd laughs with him and your cheeks must hurt from holding that coy smile. "Now, the last time we talked, you said you were composing a new piece." Caesar pulls a violin out from…somewhere behind him and presents it to you like a gift. Finnick doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he didn’t think you’d use the violin as your strategy. Mostly because of how much you hate it. Or maybe you don’t anymore. Maybe you’ve grown to love it and he’s none the wiser. “Can you play it for us now?" The crowd clamors in ooohs and ahhhs at the idea. It has always been a privilege to hear you play. Finnick watches your face closely.

It wasn't your favorite thing to do, by far, but you took to it like a fish to water. Usually, Snow would have you play at the more "personal" get-togethers. But every once in a while, you would compose a song for Finnick . And when it was just the two of you, you'd share it with him. He'd sit in front of you in awe as you played. He doesn't have a musical bone in his body, but he can hum every piece from memory. 

“You’re kind of putting me on the spot here, but, sure. I would love to play it for you all.” You laugh. You place the instrument under your chin and position your fingers and bow.

And you play .

It's not showy like the pieces you usually play for the public. Not grand or performative, but soft and soulful. Melancholy. It feels nostalgic almost, like something you would write for him. 

The haunting melody carries throughout the silent room as if everyone is breathing with the lilting notes. Everyone but Finnick—who holds his breath. 

He looks down, squeezing his eyes shut, nose scrunching as he fights back tears. Because as much as you may hate the instrument, you play it as if it's an extension of your body. And you've always been better at showing how you feel than saying it. 

It sounds like a goodbye. 

You come to a stop and Finnick's lungs stop constricting with your movements.

When you finish, it’s quiet before Caesar clears his throat and gives you a small smile that almost looks genuine.

“That was marvelous , my dear. Truly moving—wasn’t that moving?” He asks the audience, and Finnick will be surprised if there’s a dry eye in the crowd. Even their applause sounds sad. 

“Thank you, Caesar.” You nod at the praise. “You taught me so much—all of you. If I had known this would be the last time I got to play for you—” You trail off into a sob and the crowd coos. The words may be fake, but he isn’t too sure about the tears. He wonders if you think you won’t make it out of the arena alive—not that he would let that happen. If he could just talk to you, and have an actual conversation, he could know what you’re thinking.

Caesar pats your lower back and Finnick’s eyes narrow. “And you played beautifully.”

You hand the violin back with a watery smile and, fake or not, Finnick hates to see you cry. 

You’re met with a standing ovation as you climb to your place on the platform. With the way the victors are positioned, he stands directly behind you. Or, well, strictly speaking, he’s more diagonal than directly behind you. Still, how lucky is he? He could, theoretically, lean forward and catch a whiff of your perfume—

He gathers himself, straightening up and lacing his fingers behind his back. He squeezes the space between his thumb and forefinger.

Katniss spins and her wedding dress transforms in a flurry of fire before their eyes. 

“Again with the fire.” He mutters under his breath.

The crowd is in awe as she spreads her wings, but he isn’t so easily cowed. Though, he might not be the target audience. Finnick’s never been particularly fond of birds, even if they are mockingjays.

"You know Katniss and I, we've been luckier than most. And I wouldn't have any regrets at all if it weren't…if—" Peeta stops himself, glancing around nervously.

"If it weren't for what? What?"

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Now, that catches his attention. Gasps echo throughout the room at Peeta’s revelation. Finnick’s eyebrows almost touch his hairline with how high they raise. Caesar tries to do damage control, but the situation is quickly escalating. 

“Call off the games!”

“This is cruel!”

He purses his lips around a growing smile, but he can’t hide it for long when the crowd starts shouting. That’s…that’s certainly one way to get the audience riled up. He catches the slight smirk on Peeta’s face as he watches the commotion he caused and Finnick’s a little jealous. 

Chaos unfurls in a way he never thought the Capitols were capable of. They’ve always been so docile; sheep shepherded into any direction Snow leads them. But it makes sense. The romance act was meant to fool the Capitol and fool them it has. He hides the vindictive glee he feels at the riot breaking out in the name of the victors, but only barely. He would kill to see Snow's face right now. 

How does it feel, he wonders, to see your people rebel in support of the savages you tried to paint us out to be?

He looks over, brows furrowed, as Mags takes his hand with a proud smile and he glances down in time to see you take Chaff’s hand. He pauses for a moment before taking the hand the woman from Five offers him. In sync, the victors all raise their hands in a show of solidarity. 

“Stop the games!”

“Call them off!”

Finnick grins big at the mayhem unfolding before him and they keep shouting long after the lights cut out.

Present (X) - You & Finnick

[23 & 24 ] - THE CAPITOL

“Star!”

It didn't take long for the tributes to be escorted off the platforms and as he chases after you, Finnick realizes that he vastly underestimated just how many people stood between you and him. He isn't sure if he's too far away for you to hear or if you’re actively ignoring him.

”Star!” Finnick pushes through the crowd of victors and stage crew to get closer. Chaff glances at him and now he knows for sure that you’re ignoring him.

“Stubborn.” He mutters as some of his fellow victors let him pass, glancing at him before continuing their conversations. But, as he’s said before, he’s just as stubborn as you. He racks his brain for something that’ll catch your attention before he loses what might be his last chance with you. “ The message was for you! ”

You pause at the entrance of the elevator at Finnick's shout. You're so close to getting away, so close. Your escape is a hair's breadth and a footstep away, but you remember how you felt sitting in your dressing room watching Finnick's interview. Was there a pang of jealousy over the possibility of the message being for someone else? God , it couldn't even be categorized as jealousy. 

You look over your shoulder and his lungs stop constricting. He’s got you. Now, for the hardest part: keeping you.

There are dozens of eyes on him, people milling around as if they aren’t honed in on whatever this is. He can’t blame them for being curious, he’s a little confused himself. He went into this with no plan, not that he would have been able to stick to one with how you’re looking at him.

“What?” The lingering crowd fully parts for him as he approaches, and you regard the gathering audience warily. 

“What I said, the message—it was for you.” He repeats. 

He can’t afford to be coy, that hasn't worked the last dozen times he's attempted a conversation with you and it definitely won't work now. He knows if he doesn’t catch you now, there won’t be any more chances.

Peeta dropped a baby bomb, and, somehow, this is the most dramatic thing to happen tonight. His eyes are locked intently on you, either unaware of all the attention he’s captured or just uncaring.

You look over to Chaff for some kind of help and he smirks at your growing embarrassment. You watch in disbelief as he walks away using the excuse of finding Seeder to escape. 

“Finnick, this isn’t the time.” You glance between him and the floor, tracing the threading in his boots instead of the desperation in his eyes. 

"Can you please just,” he shifts his weight on his feet, "can you look at me, Star? Please, just look at me." He lifts his hand like he aims to reach out to you, but hesitates. 

This situation is developing into something far more intimate than your current company should allow. More intimate than you should allow. You can always just walk away, turn your back to him and get on one of the idle elevators—let it end here once and for all. The only thing stopping you would be the completely unfounded guilt. 

You don't owe him anything, let alone your time. 

And, yet. 

Maybe you can get some kind of closure and set clear boundaries before you go into the arena—and that reasoning sounds weak even to you.

Both of you could die tomorrow and truthfully, you don't want to walk away from him; you've never wanted to.

Besides, it's not like he can hurt you any worse than he already has. 

Finnick jolts when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, a sensation he should be accustomed to but has grown foreign. 

You pull him aside away from eavesdropping ears, but not from nosey eyes. You feel like a spectacle, with how front and center Finnick has made this, but when haven't you?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You question him in a harsh whisper. “I don’t know what this is or what you think this is, but it is not the place for it. What if this gets back to Snow—”

“I don’t care.”

“—There’s already so much…what?”

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head, and for once, he’s not lying. “I don’t care if they hear us, or—or if this gets back to Snow.”

Your jaw shifts as you narrow your eyes up at him and there’s that anger he’s been expecting.

“Please, Star. Just…just let me speak.” He begs. Your face goes blank, a mask slotting into place like a lock with a key that Finnick has long since lost the right to. He blocks out the chatter around him. 

“Not here.” For a moment, he thinks he’s being rejected until you grab his wrist and drag him behind you. The elevators are filling in droves and you just so happen to pick the one housing some of the last people he wants to witness this. 

Haymitch takes one look at your faces and the grip you have on his wrist and raises his hands in defense. 

Haymitch turns to Katniss and Peeta. “Nuh-uh, believe me. You do not wanna be locked in here with them.” He shakes his head and steps out without a backward glance and you contemplate going with him. “I’ll meet you guys up there.”

Johanna steps on in his place, elevator doors closing behind her. She looks between the four of you and whistles. Finnick sighs.

“There’s the happy couple.” You glance at Peeta and Katniss because she certainly isn’t talking about the two of you. “You caused quite the stir out there. Why didn’t you tell us you were expecting? We could have thrown you a baby shower.” You sigh through your nose. You don’t even have it in you to intervene in this conversation.

“What the hell is a baby shower—”

“We didn’t know how everyone would take it.” Peeta cuts Katniss off. “We’re already the newest victors. The baby might’ve painted an even bigger target on our backs.” He says without stuttering once.

“That’s a fantastic answer, Peeta.” Johanna crows sarcastically. “Did Haymitch prep you on that one or did you come up with it on your own?”

“No. No, it’s all me.” He assures with a downward smile. It certainly is all him. He’s the mastermind behind all of this, right? Ironically enough, Finnick doubts Katniss had any real part in making this ‘baby scandal’.

Finnick opens his mouth to make a quip but thinks better of it. You’re already aggravated at his presence and he honestly doesn’t want to remind you that he’s here. His only consolation is that you’re still holding his wrist, all five pads of your fingers are searing points on his skin.

Peeta gives you an imploring look, eyebrows raised as if to ask if you’re alright and you nod and—when did that happen?

It’s quiet, with no other sound than the nearly inaudible woosh of the elevator going between floors. No one makes an effort to break the steadily growing awkward silence. Finnick does, however, make the mistake of making eye contact with Johanna. She mouths you’re dead at him over your head and, yeah, that definitely fills him with much-needed confidence. 

Present (X) - Finnick

[21 & 22] -  THE CAPITOL; TRAINING CENTER; ELEVENTH FLOOR

“Alright. You wanted to speak.” Your dress flutters around your legs as you settle into a big green chair. That same giant green chair you sat in three years prior. You’ve both grown considerably since then. Just in two completely different directions. What a juxtaposition. “Speak.” 

He stays where he’s standing a couple of feet away. He probably should have figured out what to do on the elevator ride, but, again, he’s without a plan. “Did you hear my message? When I was up there with Caesar? I know you were still getting ready—did you hear it?”

“I might’ve.” You shrug and cross your arms, still so stubborn. “Great strategy by the way. I’m sure you’ll reel in plenty of sponsors.”

“God, Star, it wasn’t for them. It wasn’t even for the fucking movement.” You raise a brow at his words but give no further outward reaction. He moves to stand before you, each step more unsure than the last. Your glare is scorching, but there’s been enough space between the two of you to house the sun. “Do you remember when you said my poetry was a gift? And—and that I shouldn’t waste it on them? You said you would never be tired of anything I do. Do you remember that night? What I said?” He implores. It was a special night full of promises and you gave him more than he deserved.

You look him over with a critical eye long enough that he’s sure you’re just not going to answer. Especially when you turn to stare off to the side before sighing out of your nose.

“My heart, who am I to deprive you of what's yours by right? The air in my lungs, I breathe for you. The blood in my veins pumps for you. A leaf can’t stop itself from falling and neither could I. Everything I do, I do for you.” It only takes him half a second to recognize the lines and he’s stunned, transported back to that garden under the stars. “I remember all of them…I remember everything you’ve made for me.” You give him fleeting peripheral glances and avoid his gaze like you’re ashamed of that. 

He nods, frantic and eager. He’s making headway. He honestly didn’t think you’d let him get this far. Your eyes widen when he drops down into a kneel before you smooth your face into a blank mask. “They’re all yours. And they’ll keep being yours even if you still hate me when I leave this room. Everything I’ve written since I met you has been for you.’’ He confesses, hands moving to grip the arms of your chair, but is it really a confession? The Capitols love his poetry because they adore the idea of Finnick Odair being devoted to them, longing for them and, for that, you’ve always been his inspiration. 

You stare down at him, giving no indication that anything he’s said has swayed you. He grits his teeth through the sting of rejection and sighs, arms falling to his sides.

“I can’t tell you how sorry—”

“Why now?” You cut him off. “It’s been two years. You don’t owe me anything, Finnick, so if this a guilt thing—”

“I–It’s not. I mean, it is, but it’s not…it’s not why I’m here.” He sits back on his haunches, running a hand through his hair. “We could die tomorrow. And I don’t want you going into that arena thinking that I don’t love you or…or that I wanted to leave you.”

You squint at him, face twisting into a sour scowl.

“You said,” you drawl, slow and drawn out like you’re explaining something fundamental to a child, “you thought it was best if we ended it.”

He shakes his head. “I lied. I had to and I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I hurt you and I know saying sorry won’t be enough, but please know sending that letter was the last thing I wanted to do. Leaving you was the last thing I wanted to do.”

“What? What are you talking about? You said—”

He holds his hands up, stopping your completely warranted stream of questions.

“I know. I know what I said and I never would have said it if Snow hadn’t shown up at my house—”

“Snow showed up at your house?” Your arms unfold and you lean forward so suddenly that he almost flinches back. “When?” 

“Uh, a few weeks before I sent the letter. He’s the only reason I even sent it.” He scoffs, remembering the state he was left in after Snow offered the ultimatum. He doesn’t need to try to remember the words written in the letter he sent you because he’s never forgotten. They’re tattooed on the back of his eyelids, seared into his memory every time he blinks.

“What did he want? What did he say to make you…” He watches you try to articulate your confusion. What led to this ? What could have possibly been worth giving you up? 

“Snow he–he was convinced that our relationship would somehow lead to—civil unrest. His solution was to get rid of one of us, get rid of you . I couldn’t let that happen. He never explicitly said it, but you know how he is, how he speaks …I was scared. I was. I didn’t—” His voice cracks and you stare down at him with stunned, wide eyes. He wants to shuffle closer. He wants to sway into you and take some kind of comfort. But he doesn’t. “I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t just tell you because you would have tried to find some kind of loophole and we couldn’t afford to make him more hostile than he already was.”

You look to your left out of the wall-length windows and smirk, completely throwing Finnick off. 

"Star?"

You stand. He watches as you pace the length of the room before turning on your heel and walking onto the balcony. He can do nothing more than follow you. 

“He came to my house too, you know. Around the same time, I think. He wanted to remind me about how privileged I am.” You snort and that sick feeling is developing in his stomach, organs twisting to make room for the settling dread. He isn’t sure what he thought you’d do in light of the revelation, what he expected you to say, but it’s not this. “Went on about how thankful I should be that he was allowing us to be in a relationship and…and that as long as I kept myself in line, I could keep you.” You sigh, propping your elbows on the railing and placing your face in your hands.

He doesn’t know what to do. Speechless doesn’t even cover it. His anger is there, and he doesn’t see that ever leaving him...but he’s been angry for so long and he’s been tired for even longer.

“We played right into his hand, Finnick. He gained something from this, bastard that he is.” You scoff. You turn and sit with your back against the glass railing. "That's all that matters to him."

Finnick stews on it and many things are starting to make sense. In the months leading up to the event, the two of you started seeing each other less and less. Long periods where all he had was your perfume and words to keep him company. And considering Snow was the only way either of you were allowed to come to the Capitol…Of course. It all seems so fucking obvious now .

"I should have known better. Snow was never gonna kill you, he's too fucking— God .” He stops and shakes his head. All of the lost time, the unnecessary pain. 

“Come sit down, Finn.”

Finn. 

He hasn't been called that in a long time. He takes a second to stare unseeingly at the stars before sliding down beside you.

It's quiet. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know if there's anything he should say, and he's sure you feel the same. But he does know if it was up to you, you'd both sit in silence for the foreseeable future and he has two years' worth of confessions to make. 

“The mo—” he stops, overwhelmed by how much he wants to say, but nothing feels good enough, “I loved you the moment you laughed at my stupid joke the first time we danced together and I have loved you ever since. Even when I wasn’t there to show you, even when I—I left you. I’ve loved you the entire way, Star. There are billions of suns out there, billions of universes, and I love you in every one.”

Your head whips up.

“I remember everything you’ve made for me too.” Your mouth twists, brows furrowing as you stare at him and he can’t express in words how good it feels to be seen.

"I don’t hate you.” You shrug a shoulder, smiling small and quick. “You said ‘even if you still hate me’, I don’t hate you.”

“...You don’t?” 

“I tried to. For a while, I thought I did." He shouldn’t be surprised by that. He shouldn’t be hurt by something he explicitly told you to do in his letter. Finnick shouldn’t be a lot of things that he is. “But I just… couldn’t . I didn’t even want to, after a while. I was just tired.”

His head thumps against the railing. He closes his eyes. There's a question on his tongue, an answer he shouldn't need but wants regardless. 

“Is that why you stopped sending letters?” When he opens his eyes again, he’s relieved by the fact that you’re still facing him.

Your face twists like you’ve tasted something sour, something rotten. “I just…I was fine waiting for you, Finnick. It was hard, but it didn’t hurt. Not too bad, at least. I would’ve waited a thousand years because it would have been worth it to hold you for a second. And I could get through that because I knew you were waiting for me too. But, I realized you were never coming. And, eventually, I realized…you weren’t waiting either." You whisper, wrapping your arms around your legs as you pull your knees up. He stiffens, freezing in place as he tries to slow his heartbeat. 

He drops his head, brows furrowed as he tries, and fails, to stop tears from forming. It's just, it's cruel . The one thing he promised himself he'd never do—leave you, hurt you—he had to do for you. 

He wipes his face, pressing the base of his palms into his eyes. 

"Star, I…I would never…It killed me to write that letter, you have to know that, right? Right ?" He implores, voice rough while his breath hitches repeatedly. His throat feels tight and swollen as he stutters over the words in his chest. The words you have to hear, the words he needs you to hear. You stare forward, refusing to look at him anymore and he turns to face you full-on, refusing to look at anything but you. "How can I let you know that? What can I do—to prove—that I'm sorry ?"

He thought you both had changed, changed too much to be fluent in what you two used to have. He thought it was a different language, but here, up close, he can see that it’s not so much a new language as it is a cipher. You just had to let him get close enough to understand again. He had always thought you had such an open face, it was a wonder to him how you were able to lie so eloquently when you could never lie to him. But it wasn’t until he was shut out that he realized you were letting him read you, subconsciously or otherwise. He reads you now, eyes tracing your face eagerly—hungrily, and finds…remorse?

"I know you’re sorry. I know. And logically, knowing the truth should make it easier to get over it.” Your mouth opens and closes, hesitating. “But you left me." He nods hard enough to hurt his neck. "I did." And he's sorry, he's sorry, he's so sorry. He doesn't think there's enough air on the planet for him to tell you just how sorry he is. "You left me, Finnick. I know it isn’t rational to feel this way knowing you didn’t want to, but…” You lick your lips, resting your cheek on your knee. When you look up at him, actually look at him and not somewhere over his shoulder, the glossy state of your eyes has him digging his nails into his hands to ground himself. "It’s just—it’s more than a little hard to dissociate you from that hurt." I’d take that hurt from you if I could, he thinks. I’d grit my teeth through the pain and wear it proudly if it meant you’d have a moment of relief. He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says, "I'm sorry, Star." Because, really, what else is there to say? There’s no way to describe everything he’s sorry for.

"...I'm sorry too." You say and he wants to tell you there’s nothing to apologize to him about, but you lock your pinky with his and it’s entirely unexpected and truly enough to make his throat tighten, and all he can manage is a wistful sigh at the feeling of coming home.

Far below them, the sound of the city is dampened by the distance but no less heard. He goes to speak but spots a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. It’s your ankle. Or specifically, what’s on your ankle.

“You wore it?” He asks, touching the fraternal twin of his own bracelet. He appraises what he thought was lost reverently. Tracing the grooves of the shells, the divets in the charms, the rough twine of the rope—it all feels like a live wire under his fingers.

“I never took it off.” You slip your heel off, loosening the straps of the bracelet and wiggling it down your foot. “I just thought it might be a little sad to parade it around when you didn’t want me.”

“There will never be a moment on this Earth of me not wanting you, not while I still have air in my lungs. Not even after.” 

“And how’ll you manage that?” You ask, your eyes crinkling in that old mirth you used to wear around him like a beauty mark.

“For you? I’ll find a way.” He promises.

You hum, appraising the jewelry for a second before passing it to him. He can’t help but smile when you lift your hand, silently prompting him. He places the bracelet on you, tightening it on your wrist. It feels like muscle memory when he lifts your hand to place a kiss on the center shell.

The corner of your mouth twitches up and you nod. “Okay.”

He leans in, placing a hand on the base of your neck and pulling you towards him and he’s still in awe that you actually let him. He holds the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around his slender waist. 

"I'm not asking for forgiveness, it wouldn’t be fair to.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “But after we do this, I want the chance to make it up to you." He'll spend the rest of his life mending what he tore apart if you let him.

“I think…I’d like that.” You speak into his chest and he feels your voice more than he hears it. “It was for you too.”

“What was?”

“The song I played onstage. I wrote it after it all happened. Honestly, I couldn’t touch the violin without thinking of you, Finn. You were the only person I ever wanted to play for.” You whisper and it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Finnick’s taken by the sudden need to look in your eyes more than anything, to see and know you and be seen and known in return. He pulls back enough to look down at you.

“ Star .” He begs you beseechingly, and there’s no hesitation when you look up at him and he grins. It feels like it’s been years. “There you are.”

You smile. It's small and heavier than he remembers, but it's there and he is as whole as he will ever be.

A/N: IMAGINE POURING YOUR HEART OUT AND EXPRESSING HEARTFELT INTIMACY TO THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE JUST TO GET DUMPED yeesh. fun fact: "...but if you only dug a little deeper you’d find your picture framed and hanging along the walls of my soul." I actually texted this to my beta reader about Finn from Adventure Time after seeing an edit bc I love him so much, but then I converted it into Finnick love. also, Finnick's letter was one of the first things I wrote for this story months ago. That balcony talk was inspired by Hozier's Unknown/Nth WE IN THE ARENA NEXT CHAPPY

#3d wifey talks #3d wifey answers #finnick odair x reader #hunger games catching fire #finnick odair #and they'd find us in a week #finnick #finnick odair fanfic #catching fire #the hunger games x reader #hunger games smut #hunger games fanfiction #finnick fanfic #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #the hunger games

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HOPELESS ROMANTIC ; geto x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode four ! ꒱ . . . word count; 0.9k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ leaves are falling, and he is too

⊹ ⠀⠀ with so many love stories on the shelf, geto feels his heart being influenced. if he's going to fall in love with anyone...it's you.

contains; geto suguru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"suguru how do you expect me to read when my heart is in a million pieces?"

he doesn't think he's ever met a person as dramatic as you are.

"these books can't teach me how to get laid."

it's kind of cute, though. annoying...but cute.

with the november breeze sweeping the leaves from every tree on campus, winter is approaching fast and geto feels like your irritation towards gojo is at an overwhelming high. there really isn't anything he can do about it. after all, he wasn't there when you oh-so-spontaneously confessed your undying love for satoru on halloween; to which you received a brutal rejection...this is why geto doesn't date— especially why he doesn't date in a world run by satoru gojo.

now, geto has done his very best at trying to distract you from the devastating heartbreak that comes with loving his best friend. there have many so many girls before you who've tried to get on with him after being ignored by the white haired boy; which is extremely insulting that any of them thought geto would be an easy target or a second option to satoru. when geto does fall in love, he hopes that it'll be with someone who chooses him first. someone who doesn't even consider their other options and believes that he's the only person in the entire world who can fit with their uneven puzzle piece. clearly, gojo isn't the person to fit with yours.

"maybe you just need to sit down and be silent?" he purses his lips in annoyance, trying his best to focus on the words of poetry and rhyme. poems are the language of love. you could take some advice from these lines. "you're talking so much that you're not even enjoying the book."

you groan. "this book is boring. who the fuck reads poetry for fun?"

um. he does.

the glare he sends your way is intimidating, but also gentle. "what would you like to read instead? since you're such an avid reader?"

his sarcasm is meant to be insulting.

a mischievous smile creeps into the corners of your lips; smile likes yours used to scare him as a child after having seen alice in wonderland one too many times. he never understood the other children's fascination with a purple, talking cat. it's just weird. "how about this one!"

the book your present to him isn't anything he's read before. actually, it's something that he hopes to never read ever. "you're kidding."

"dead serious!"

how is a cheesy romance supposed to make you feel better?

"that's just going to make you feel worse, y'know." he gently takes the book from your hands and shuffles through the pages. with his head nodding along to each words his eyes skim, it's painfully obvious that you're going to read this book imagining the male lead to be satoru. "you have such an active imagination, you'll be heartbroken all over again."

with his words, your smile melts and geto knows he's right. "satoru is a lost cause in the romance department." he explains, scooting a little closer to you and rubbing your knee. the two of you have been seated on the floor of the lovely little bookshop near campus for an hour now. you're practically the only two people in the entire store, which has made this fake date feel a little more real. "i promise that you're better off dating anyone other than him."

you don't move away from the comfort of his palm, and instead lean into it; but your words are in defense of gojo. they always are. you can't seem to find it in your heart to let him go— no matter how awful of a rejection. "he's not a bad guy. he just needs a little help learning how to love."

the look in your eyes is earnest and geto sees that you believe your statements with your whole heart.

"i can be the person to help him learn."

there's no physical tell that you're upset, but he can somehow sense that you're about to cry. maybe it's the way you slightly tensed up with your body rejecting his soft touch or the way your gaze refused to meet his; no matter, he's going to cheer you up anyways. there aren't many people that geto can make smile— but somehow, in the past four months of being your friend (?), you've become the only person he cares to cheer up.

he murmurs your name in the most comforting, gentle voice that anyone's ever spoken to you. "you are the most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe; and you are capable of amazing things—"

"because you are the special. suguru, i've seen the lego movie. you're not being slick." aw man.

your tone of voice is irritated, yet you still laugh. yes, geto knows that might possibly have been the stupidest and cheesiest thing he's done in his whole life, but he doesn't care. he made you smile. him! not satoru. geto suguru made you smile. it's not something he'd win an olympic medal for, though in his mind it's worth more than that. he doesn't know when you became so special to him. he doesn't know how you managed to creep your way into his heart and cause this embarrassing blush to consume his cheeks; and he isn't bothered to figure it out.

he doesn't want to rejoice in your heartbreak...however, there is a tiny part of him that's happy satoru doesn't love you back.

maybe it's finally time suguru gets to be loved.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

#i.e. seasons of love #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto fluff #geto angst #geto ff #geto fanfiction #geto fanfic #geto hc #geto hcs #geto blurb #geto drabble #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru fanfiction #geto suguru fanfic #geto suguru ff #geto suguru hc #geto suguru hcs #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru angst #suguru geto fanfiction #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto

[acourtofthought]

Being told I'm crazy for believing in the possibility of Elucien when there is nothing to support their ship will never get old.

You're telling me that the typical fantasy book scenario of a female fighting her destiny, a destiny which includes a male who broke free of magical shackles to be by her side is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who was willing to play the game of the High Lady of the Night Court just to make sure she was safe is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who was willing to fight his way across Courts without his magic and enter into the unknown lands of the most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian to see her is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who was devastated to see the depressed state Elain was in, who could not stop from thinking of ways to try to help her, is that not a valid reason to believe in their potential?.

A male who believed in her visions enough to risk his life (once again for her, how many times has it been now?) to travel on his own to the continent to try to find Vassa and bring back an army to help them win the war is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who ran from the shore covered in the blood of others to make sure she was safe after the war is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who the author had meet her father (the ONLY male love interest to do so) to know that he was a good man is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who made sure to give Elain credit for the KILLING BLOW that stopped the King of Hybern is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who was honored at her invite to come back to Velaris is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who never once got angry at Elain after he moved to Velaris and saw she was still struggling with the loss of Graysen and her human life. Where she pulled away from him because of it.

A male who has remained loyal to her and only her ever since their bond snapped, who looks at her and only her with longing after two years is not a reason to believe in their potential?

A male who thinks she is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen is not a reason to believe in their potential?

A male who is as at home in nature as is she is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who tries to avoid violence as does she is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

A male who is as good at talking to others as she is is not a valid reason to believe in their potential?

"But Elain does not want him!"

And Elizabeth did not want Darcy.

And Claire did not want Jamie.

Am I supposed to honestly believe their current state means things can't turn around in their own book?

Nothing is a guarantee but some need to stop acting clueless, like the reluctant lovers trope hasn't been done before many times over and ended with a HEA for the couple.

Lucien, an extremely important and intelligent side character since book 1 was not written by SJM to be "the nice guy friend not taking the hint that his mate wants to reject their bond so he continues sticking around even though it makes her uncomfortable."

Lucien, future High Lord of Prythian, was written by SJM to be the hero of the story who gets the girl because of his complete and utter devotion to her, who has been nothing but sheer perfection as Elain's mate and her equal in every way.

#pro elucien #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra

[wangxianficrecs]

Heart of hearts by apathyinreverie

Heart of hearts

by apathyinreverie (@apathyinreverie)

M, WIP, Series, 23k, Wangxian

Summary: It won't be until several days later that Wangji will know to be grateful for Jiang Wanyin’s insistence to split up in their search. (Or, JC and LWJ spend those months searching separately and LWJ ends up finding Wei Ying a little earlier. Wei Ying who doesn’t remember anything beyond his own name. So, LWJ takes his chance and takes Wei Ying home. To Gusu.) Kay's comments: AO3 user apathyinreverie has done it again and left me absolutely devaststed. When I originally bookmarked this, it wasn't a series yet and more of a WIP (?) but now, a second work has been posted and it's probably going to be finished soon. I love this start to a canon divergence, where Lan Wangji is the one who finds Wei Wuxian after his time in the Burial Mounds, without Jiang Cheng being there and with Wei Wuxian suffering from memory loss. As devastating as it is, Lan Wangji gets to see the full extent of the hurt Wei Wuxian suffered in the Burial Mounds and also gets to be beside him before he managed to build his walls up again. Really loved this, so heart-breaking, so soft. Excerpt: Wei Ying. Wei Ying is here. Alive. Wei Ying who looks terrified of him. Wei Ying who drips resentment as though oversaturated. Wei Ying who looks barely present but still, somehow, desperately unbroken. “Wei Ying,” Wangji breathes, aching at the terror swimming in his zhiji’s eyes. There is the slightest falter in Wei Ying’s posture at the sound of his name, a sudden uncertainty in his eyes, dragging to focus quickly on Wangji’s hand that had so briefly lingered against his shoulder, as though uncertain whether what he felt might have been real. “Wei Ying,” Wangji repeats, desperate and joyous and devastated at the state he is in. He watches Wei Ying’s grip on the blackened flute loosening, the dark swirls of energy around his feet calming slightly. There is silence, a careful sort of quiet as neither of them speaks. “You know me?” Wei Ying finally asks, voice roughened in a way that speaks of no words spoken for months and entire weeks spent screaming at the same time, a helpless uncertainty vibrating within. There is no recognition in Wei Ying’s eyes. As though Wangji were a stranger. “You’re real?” he adds carefully, softly, breaking Wangji’s heart further.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, not cultivation world friendly, memory loss, amnesia, hurt wei wuxian, possessive lan wangji, protective lan wangji, domestic lan wangji/wei wuxian, caring lan wangji, caring, bathing/washing, golden core reveal, golden core transfer fix-it, wei wuxian goes to gusu, sunshot campaign, wei wuxian's three months in the burial mounds, hurt/comfort, wei wuxian has ptsd

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#WIP Rec Week #WIP #Work in Progress #April 2024 #Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #Wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #Series #Mature #medium fic 15k-49k #Heart of hearts #apathyinreverie #pov lan wangji #canon divergence #not cultivation world friendly #memory loss #amnesia #hurt wei wuxian #possessive lan wangji #protective lan wangji #domestic lan wangji/wei wuxian #caring lan wangji #caring #bathing/washing #golden core reveal #golden core transfer fix-it #wei wuxian goes to gusu #sunshot campaign

[lemmeurs]

okay. here is my 1600+ words essay on raphael. if anyone would like to adress anything from it, please do but keep it civil! i am so damn invested in this topic, i wanna hear everyone's thoughts

raphael rant

(DISCLAIMER: this essay was not written in order to justify Raphael as a character or any of his actions or intentions. i am completely skipping any point of morality, whether my own or just in general, i simply wanted to somehow try and write my feelings and thoughts down while looking at the whole thing from a subjective point of view, analyzing the design of the game, the plotline and his whole persona and just.. idk i wanted to see whether anyone else felt the way i do because i have been going INSANE over this for the past few days)

hi. i have come here today to express my thoughts and feelings on Raphael the cambion and "his final act". this is being randomly and spontaneously written in my notes app so please excuse the absolute chaos that this essay will be (no i won't be rereading it, fuck it we ball) (CONTAINS BG3 ACT III SPOILERS!!)

first of all — i am so beyond devastated that he gets killed. and not just by anyone, he gets killed BY US. THE PLAYER. WE AS THE PLAYER DELIVER THE FINAL BLOW THAT ENDS HIS EXISTENCE. not only is that very upsetting (because come on, hot devil man, obviously i don't wanna kill him??) but it also makes me feel so.. awful. like, everything about this is wrong and i hate the fact that there is no other option.

because let's review the course of the story in the house of hope:

- we barge into his house unannounced, uninvited, while he is absent

- we invade his privacy by entering what's his own personal space (yes, i know he stole it from Hope in the first place but that is not the point here — whatever his devil business is, it's still HIS, you know?? like he is a devil, this is the kinda stuff they do and honestly? i didn't want to stick my nose into it. but obviously i did because tHe sToRy etc etc. but still, it was his own thing that basically doesn't affect the player in any way so TECHNICALLY you dont have to free Hope. you can, if your character's moral compass advises so, but it doesn't affect the main plot.)

- we then proceed to walk around his house freely, lie to his archivist in order to look at the stuff we're already planning to steal

- we meet his personal incubus whom then we have the chance to either use or kill (i fought Haarlep so that's the point of view i'm looking from at this here, in which case i also robbed their corpse) and we rob his safe. and his whole bedroom actually. we read his journals. we use his bath.

- then obviously we go and rob his entire archive which includes all of his most precious possessions

- upon stealing, we slaughter every single creature in his house, fighting our way through to get to Hope's prison

- we then kill the two spectators he has guarding her (they were probably super hard to obtain??) and we just. free his prisoner. because yeah, that is the right thing to do, IM NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG, but let's say we skip morality for a second, let's just focus on the fact that we have no ulterior motives in freeing Hope. we just wanna mess with HIS business because why not since we're already ruining all of his plans.

- and then we have the audacity to try to leave before he comes back and act like we were never there while his entire house is turned to shit.

now let's look at this list again but this time keep in mind the fact that at that point, he hasn't done A SINGLE THING to us. like, he has never harmed us, he treated us with (let's call it) "respect" and politeness, he was fine with our hesitation towards his deal and was willing to give us time. he was never aggressive towards us, he was never "the enemy".

and now you can say - okay wtf is wrong with you, that man literally admitted his intention of conquering the worlds, enslaving all mortals and basically becoming the tyrant of all while also most likely stealing everyone's souls for his own pleasure.

yes, he did, and yes, that's bad. but just because those were his intentions does not give us the right to do all that shit to him AND THEN KILL HIM. AS IF WE HAD THE RIGHT TO SERVE JUSTICE HERE?? YEAH HIS PLANS ARE EVIL BUT IT IS NOT UP TO US TO DICTATE HIS CONSEQUENCES. HIS PLANS WOULD ONLY SUCCEED IF WE GAVE HIM THE CROWN IN THE END, SO JUST- DON'T?? LIKE DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN. IM NOT TRYING TO JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS OR INTENTIONS, BY ALL MEANS. i'm just trying to express how weird this all made me feel because not everyone decides to play as the selfless, lawfully good hero of all, protecting the world from all evil, ever! this is roleplay, afterall!

and them obviously he comes home. he is furious, as he should be. but mostly he's betrayed because, as weird as it may be, he trusted us. he admitted to growing "quite fond of us, in his own way". he thought we were some weird sort of.. acquaintances? friends maybe? (again, i know most of our relationship with him is mostly just him manipulating us but still, it's quite clear he wasn't expecting this betrayal) and we just barged in there and disrespected him in the worst way possible. so obviously he wants to kill us now and obviously we can kill him since he's just a boss in a game. and that's what we do. and then.. that's it. we're the good guys. we ruined a man's whole career because we needed one of his toys, murdered him in his own house and just left. and we're supposed to be the good guys.

i think the source of my problem is that Raphael is never introduced as evil. we don't meet him as the big bad villain that we know we'll have to kill at some point. i swear to god, at the beginning of act 3 i trusted that man way more than i trusted the Emperor and i was so close to agreeing to his deal just because i felt like i could trust him and he would keep me safe (for some reason, let's blame it on those wonderful eyes of his).

we meet him so early on in the game and he follows through all 3 acts, making it feel like he's gonna be some key character that will matter in the end - turns out, no! we were just supposed to rob and kill him. and that's literally it. talk about wasted potential.

when i first met him i got the "unofficial narrator" vibes from him, as if he was only supposed to seem intimidating and "evil" but you could sense there was so much more to him and i was dying to see how his story would unwrap. i was so ready for a redemption act, a plot twist, anything. man was i disappointed. because how cool would it be if he turned out to be a part of the "gather your allies" quest?? imagine having him as an ally and an ACTUAL friend in the end??

and don't even GET ME STARTED on what the orb in Helsik's shop shows you after you kill him. the fact that he's not even dead yet but ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED BY MEPHISTOPHELES. ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED. BY HIS FATHER. HE. WHAT. THATS THE ENDING HE GETS. and we are the ones that served it to him when he got RIGHTFULLY pissed at us for doing all that shit to him. and im supposed to just be fine with it?? i'm supposed to feel like this was the ending he deserved and i did the right thing??

god what i would give for a different way. idk. striking a new deal with him. saving him from Mephistopheles afterwards. REDEMPTION ARC?? ANYTHING?? NO? THATS IT THEN?

now i know that you dont HAVE to kill him, you can either agree to his deal or just ignore him and the house of hope altogether. but that just defeats the whole purpose of this character?? agreeing to his deal and giving him the crown at the end results in a pretty bad ending and ignoring him means that yeah, you don't have to kill him but you also don't get anything else from him anymore. like he has no other endings, just either death or his big evil plans. and for a game with so many choices and so much branching, it just feels almost weird that that's all he is there for. then why do we meet him in act 1? why does he follow through to act 2? (yeah, astarion, i know, but i cant help but feel like they could have put a completely different way to read his runes there if they didnt want Raphael specifically to help us) WHY ARE WE ALREADY SO USED TO HIM BY THE TIME HE PRESENTS HIS DEAL? if the whole hammer business is the only thing he's in the game for, then we may have as well been introduced to him only in act 3 during the whole Voss quest. but we knew him already and he felt like some sort of a.. friend lets call it? idk. this just does not make sense to me and makes me genuinely so sad.

as i'm writing this, it's the third day after ive completed the house of hope and i literally can not think about anything else. like my mind is just going on and on about this and i cant get over it!! im actually GRIEVING a fictional devil and i dont know what to do with all these.. thoughts.

so now i actually genuinely MISS THAT MF. I MISS HIM. GIVE HIM BACK. I WASN'T DONE AND NEITHER WAS HE. PLEASE PLEASE LARIAN I CAN FIX HIM—

okay i think thats it for now. idk i wrote this so chaotically i already forgot what i said and didnt say. im just. im feeling so many things. im so fucking sad and mad that this is how it ends. rest in peace hot devil man i will never forget you.

#bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 raphael #bg3 spoilers #raphael the cambion #raphael #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 act 3 #larian studios #bg3 essay #baldur's gate iii #bg3 discussion

[hashtagloveloses]

any time i fall into a depressive episode i have the devastating urge to rewatch fullmetal alchemist, and the october 3rd memes also gave me the urge again. so instead of rewatching, i did something i've been wanting to do for a long time instead - looked up the sheet music for parts of the score to learn on the violin. i'm DECENT on the violin but not the best, so i thought resembool's lullaby would be relatively easy to learn with a bit of practice. i went to sight read it, and despite listening to it constantly, realized quite quickly how it was deceptively way more difficult than i thought. it has a lot of double stops, AKA when you have to play two notes on two different strings at the same time, and getting them to sound good requires a good amount of technique.

there's the basic melody that pretty much anybody could hum, but the texture between and on top of the main melody that makes it special is the hard part. after seeing 800 memes about october third "fail to resurrect your mom and burn your house" day, i realized that the song itself about the elric brothers' home represents the deceptive nature of the taboo they tried to enact. resembool's lullaby, the musical motif that runs through all their travels and follows them just like the horror they experienced after what they did as kids, consists of a few basic, easy to acquire melodic "ingredients", just like the material ingredients edward lists off that physically make up the human body. it is only when attempting to play the theme, just like the boys' attempt at human transmutation, that you realize the extra spark that makes the song come alive, just like a human being, can't be done without a cost. in the song, obviously it is technique and practice, and for human transmutation, it is a soul, which can only be gotten at a price.

this theme shows up a lot in fullmetal alchemist brotherhood - often with a choir, or an orchestral arrangement, but not always the solo violin. the solo violin, though, still has these incredibly difficult chords you have to play the whole time. the most BASIC form of this motif and this theme HAS to have two notes played at the same time through most of it, just like how the elric brothers cannot be apart from each other. the story, the lullaby, their fates, it's always about the two of them, no matter the cost, even in how the music is played.

EDIT: also, the FIRST version on the OST is Lullaby of Resembool, which is played by solo cello, I believe. While the LAST version on the THIRD VOLUME OST is Resembool's Lullaby, which is the solo violin version with the double stops. The themes show up everywhere, but if the solo cello version shows up in the first season and the solo violin version shows up in the last, it resembles how Edward felt alone in trying to get his brother's body back at the beginning, and how at the end they are completely reunited again, even though they shared the same melody, the same story and struggle, the whole time.

#original post #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fma #fmab #edward elric #alphonse elric

[e-hibiscus]

Pairing: Arlecchino x reader

Cw. Utc Angst, death (reader), you get murked offscreen 😔

My Arlechinoitus has evolved and gotten worse 😨 it’s turned to critical levels after i started fontaine’s story quest 😰 plus @/megistusdiary had a recent post along the lines of arle being scared of corrupting !reader and it just fed into the misery /pos 😣

Now, hear me out in my eepy ramblings 😔 I imagine that Arlecchino, through her conviction and love for you would still have that little voice in her head that tells her that allowing you to love her will cause more harm than good 🥺 she’s a fatui harbinger after all

Arlecchino can protect you, yes, but she can’t always be there when her duties as a harbinger come into play. At times, not even the children can either.

So… imagine if you died 😭 Arle, sweet Arle would be devastated 🥲

Arlecchino remembers watching you quietly slumber on the couch, waiting for none other than herself to return home. She’s always been away for so long periods of time, only coming back when the sun had set long ago;the moon settled in the sea of stars. You always tried to stay awake to greet her upon her return, like many nights before, but in the end you were lulled to sleep by the crackling of the fireplace before your beloved’s return.

Arlecchino’s eye’s don’t leave your sleeping form. Your face is highlighted by the celestial hue of the moonlight. These moments of peace go undisturbed, and Arlecchino places her coat around you like a blanket.

She watched your body relax from the new found warmth and familiar scent. Arlecchino can never forget how you unconsciously bury your head into it with a sigh of relief. It was a reminder of how much you missed her even when she couldn’t be with you more than several hours a day.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, your persistence gradually chipped through her resolve. Like a fool, she let you in, allowing you to thaw away her harsh exterior. You allow her some respite in the coldest depths of the Snezhnayan winters.

In her cold heart, there’s an inkling of regret. By allowing you in, your very life will always be at risk as her lover, as her wife. It’s an unforgivable selfish act which she never should have allowed, not only for herself, but most importantly you.

Arlecchino does not wake you when she leaves for her office. She knows you’ll come find her once you’ve gotten enough rest for the night. You’re then pulling her off to bed and spending time in each other's arms. Your lips would come and kiss her stained blackened hands. Even though her hands are bathed in blood of countless victims or caused the deaths of one too many people, you never pulled away, you only ever showed her love.

So…

When death finally came for you, Arlecchino saw to that whoever done this would be torn asunder. There’s not a single ounce of mercy. There’s not a single ounce of hesitation as she cuts down every party involved in your demise. It’s bloody, its a mess, and even the children have grown concerned over the well being of “Father”.

Once life settles once again, Arlecchino can never be the same. Nothing can ever fill that void in her heart. The only thing left in her for her to care about are her job and the children— her and your children.

Arlecchino is still the Knave. She must still be a strong figurehead as a harbinger and as the head of the Hearth. But behind closed doors Arlecchino can finally mourn for her beloved.

Arlecchino now always carries the regret of letting you in so close because will never love like this again because it won’t be you.

Her love and loyalty will always be for you because, after all, swans mate for life.

#💭.hibiscus rambles #arlecchino x reader #genshin x reader #🌺.hibiscus writes

[quarantineddreamer]

✨ B's RebelCaptain Rec List ✨

Apologies in advance as I have NO DOUBT that I missed including some very talented individuals and their works in this list. (This is by no means comprehensive.)

I haven't been here all that long, but wow--since day one I've been blown away by the talent in this fandom and the dedication of all the creators.

So, thank you lovely souls for sharing your beautiful art (in all its many forms) for us to enjoy--and thank you RC community as a whole for being so lovely and welcoming this past year! I am truly grateful to be screaming/crying/rewriting canon with you 💖

Give Up the Ghost by @frostbitepandaaaaa

I mean...what can I say? I love all of Frost's writing, but this was the first work I ever read of hers and it is devastating and gorgeous and will make you lose your mind. I remember the first time I read it just...lingering on certain sentences because I was in awe of how beautiful they were. Just read it. Trust me. (And then check out her WIP 12 Days afterwards!)

threshold by @astromechs

Another writer whose works I love. (Okay, that's pretty much everyone on this list--the RC fandom is so frickin talented). But for me, this fic in particular stands out as one that gives incredible insight into Cassian's character--and an adorable story overall. Heartfelt and beautiful.

built on hope by @luciechat

I am particularly obsessed with chapter 3 of this collection of prompt-writes Getting Back Together (in the Cold). Lucie paints the picture so clearly and the tension throughout is delicious. Highly recommend reading this RC Hoth fic--and Lucie's other amazing works!

we were never going to make it by @fulcrumstardust

Okay off the bat: be mindful of the tags! This was a whumptober fic and it is BIG SAD. But it is also so, so beautiful. The emotion woven throughout cuts to the bone and as painful as it was, the premise of the story was very well executed. (And if you're looking for a lighter read--maybe a spicy one--Moria's one-shot SOLAR STORM has such an incredible setup. The sexual tension is so well done.)

The RebelCaptain Romance Collection by @agentjackdaniels

I couldn't choose just one from this collection! Luce writes the softest, sweetest, fluffiest stories for RC that you will ever read. (Which makes perfect sense if you're lucky enough to get to know her because Luce is such a genuine, sweet soul.) These fics are like a warm-hug for the soul--just what you need after watching Rouge One.

the things you said by @gaygingersnaps

Again: I am not usually one for Modern AUs but I think the RC fandom is changing me and the first I ever read was Eli's amazing fic. I am obsessed with how Eli writes Jyn's internal dialogue. It's so in character and sharp and will make you smile and shake your head and go "Oh, Jyn!" This collection of stories is idiots-in-love like nothing else and you will fall in love with the world Eli has so thoughtfully crafted for a modern-day RC.

objection, your honor by @andorerso

I'm not usually one for modern AUs, but this fic is just so much fun. The banter between Cass and Jyn is so in character and so sharp and witty and the whole time I was reading I had a grin on my face. (These two idiots.) I love all the little details Sissi considers in this AU (Chewie being the dog for example), but that's no surprise! She is the queen of AUs!

Tethered (to the Story We Must Tell) by @dilf-din

I just absolutely loved the setup for this fic. Jess manages to fit these characters into a magical world so seamlessly by embedding the most incredible details from the Star Wars universe. (I was obsessed with the "stormtroopers".) Jess's writing is so smooth and rich and will immediately grab your attention.

Coping Mechanisms by @mosylufanfic

I think this was the first fic I ever read of mosylu's! I love the way she writes Jyn--always perfectly in character, strong and sassy. But in this fic in particular, I love the softness she brings to Jyn in how she cares for Cassian. I found it to be a very beautiful, healing read. (But if you're looking for something a bit longer or more upbeat! I mean, take your pick. Mosylu is another author who is amazing at AUs and her works are always such fun reads.)

RC Proposal by @ninsletamain

I could have put any of nins' pieces down as a rec. (Like seriously go scroll her feed she's insanely talented and her work blows my mind everytime without fail). But I chose this one because it is just so rich and full of detail, I love the story it tells, and you cannot help but smile whenever you look at it.

Claw Machine by @winterdruid

Definitely an all-time favorite for me. I remember making a joke about claw-machine as a first date when I was doing a RO rewatch with some friends and then this masterpiece showed up on my feed and my jaw dropped?! It's so fun and cute and well-done and I reblog it every time I see it soooo.

Seashore (for RC Fluffbruary) by @adeptnenyim

I love the scenery, their poses, their expressions, the quote?! Ahhh all of it! Nen's art is so soft and special and gives me all the feels and this one is no exception.

BTS of RO Inspired by @art-question-mark

I have always loved the picture this piece is based off of. In my head, it is happy Jyn and Cass. In my head, it is canon. Natalie's style is so beautiful and I love some of the quotes Natalie pulls from the Rogue One novel to go with the art!

Pretty Cute by @muguathepapaya

This piece is super cute and exactly what they deserved. I'm obsessed. Gives me all the warm and fuzzies. Sunshine on a rainy day, so gorgeous.

Time to Wake Up by @eegnm

Okay are you noticing the theme yet? I love seeing these two happy, and this scene in particular is just so...warm. I love the cuddly vibes, their expressions, all of it. You can feel the love in it.

losers by @necr0mancers

I am obsessed with the look they are exchanging. Very conspiratorial and so true to them. I also just love the style of this artists' works and the sense of humor woven through many of their pieces.

Elevator Scene by @satmolly

Nope I actually do not have words for this one. I think it says enough. (This happened, and it happened just like this and it is so very beautiful).

Favorite Scene (beach) by @dramaticmusicplaying

Another one that leaves me speechless. (Okay, they ALL do I feel like I am not doing these artists justice I'M SORRY). I just think this piece captures the beach perfectly and I love the style and all the colors and I kinda need to cry after looking at it okay?!

Jyn/Cassian Smooch by @barrikae

I am totally obsessed with this artist's style and this image in particular is just: ahhhhh! You know? Like look at themmmmm. Thank you for this barrikae.

Space Travel by @freebooter4ever

Your honor, they are holding hands and they are so very sleepy and I am so very in love with this piece. I love the artist's style and again, amazing scene set. Lives rent free in my mind.

Tagging creators for this one vs specific sets (cause you CANNOT make me choose honestly) and linking this post I wrote awhile back about how incredible I think you all are! (As in: I specifically had RC creators in mind when I wrote that post.)

*This is the list I am most nervous about cause I am almost certain I am forgetting people so if you see this and you make gifs for RC please know I love you and your work <3

@bartowskis

@staticwaffles

@jyndor

@andorerso

@jemmasimmons

@sydneyadmu

@garethsedwards

@gizkalord

@kalikoris

@dailyrebelcaptain

@therebelcaptainnetwork

#dailyrebelcaptain #drcvalentinescelebration #rebelcaptain recs #and yup! im late with this 😅 it took me probably 6 hours to pull this together and i think i could have spent 6 hours more but #my wrist is starting to give me grief unfortunately #so here goes nothing #(i am super nervous to post this for some reason!) #3..2..1..go

[mephestopheles]

So I keep seeing this take on Gerard's storyline in Neverafter and it's bugging me. The problem is not that divorce is terrifying, or terrible or the "real horror". The horror in Gerard's story is that after the kiss, after 'true love' turned him back from a frog into a human, he didn't learn anything. He thought that was it. He thought that was all he had to do to beat the curse.

So he stopped he trying.

He stopped working on himself and he stopped courting his wife. He stopped engaging with her and went back to a spoiled prince, while the kingdom burned around them.

Elody is left to care for the Kingdom. She's the one in charge, listening to advisors, sending out troops, responding to the demands of running a country.

Gerard sits there, ignoring everything. Not just the changes in his body as he denies the curse is returning, but the effects of war on his Kingdom. The effects of the devastation and the famine and probably plague that comes with large wars. This is not a small war, there is evidence that two other kingdoms have fallen, Rosamund's and whoever Pib put in place where he's originally from. Given Pib's drive to be comfortable, we can assume he didn't leave a good situation, he left with the rats.

The tragedy of Gerard is that he learned nothing. He changed just enough for Elody to see something in him and take a chance. But the moment he was back in the lap of luxury he turned to old habits, old customs, and stopped trying to be a better person.

He wants to go to parties and play the part of a prince, but never take the responsibility of running a kingdom on his shoulders. So he left it all to Elody to manage.

This did not happen overnight, this was years of him neglecting her and their kingdom. He bought into the idea that happily ever after is the be all end all.

Never once recognizing, that after the wedding there is work to be done.

He's still living in that oblivious state at the beginning, he believes the curse has taken Elody from him. And I think if pressed he'll blame her leaving on him being turned back into a frog. And not the years of neglect that mounted before she finally stopped trying.

He is going to have a reckoning this season, he is going to have to face the truth that he never changed, never sought to better himself beyond the bare minimum to wed Elody. And that even if he manages to change enough that it works this time, he may never be with Elody again.

#d20 spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #Neverafter spoilers #Neverafter #gerard meta #character meta #I have a lot of feelings about this #prince gerard of greenleigh #he doesnt believe he did anything wrong #he's casually mentions things but he's obfuscating the the truth to win people on his side #hes going to be interesting

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I generally don’t like to add on to these pile on articles about a particular situation. But damn that article about keeping Harry’s appearances to a minimum or rather very tightly controlled is uh wild. I always say there are 4 types of “leaks”. 1. The out of no where leak (unexpected) 2. The planted leak about info they want out 3. The rebuttals leak. And lastly: 4. The reality leak. Now Meghan always plays in the second and third category. It’s been her MO for years now, Harry on the other hand often times really only plays in the third category. He very clearly wants to be perceived in a very certain way by a specific set of people. Now on occasion we’ve seen number 1 happen but it was disguised or viewed as 2 or 3 depending on who you ask (megxit//oprah//lawsuits for Harry). Even rarer are leaks that fall into category 4. The dress was the first big one, then it was the frogmore neighbor paper thing and then it stopped for a little bit while they moved to the states, and then came Spotify and now, this. And I guess I’m just struck at the accuracy and devastation that these particular leaks caused. They became points of fixation for both Harry and Meghan and your blog has done a great job at tracking their individual reactions to them. The common denominator between all of them is the third party in which they came from, a non family member who was either directly or very closely associated with the core situation. These armor piercing stories seem to be, in hindsight, axis tilting turning points where huge decisions are made. (‘leaving the royal family or launching the ARO brand). Which to me begs the question, what is the irrational decision Harry will make next? Because the reality behind closed doors for Harry is likely much darker than he lets on. The article was certainly a category 4 disguised as a category 3 to respond to speculation relating to his invictius games status.

All in all, I suspect that ARO was very hastily launch, which is why there’s been no follow up or plan. The shows likely tick a box for Netflix to pay the final installment owned, while Harry and Meghan are trying to quell speculation that the relationship with the streaming giant has soured. But most importantly I really think that people aren’t picking up the phone for him any longer and the military has likely been more vocal behind closed doors, which puts him in a very very big bind. Which is only going to be further enlarged, because ex military men don’t play polo. It is a notorious rich persons sport, something that fits very well into the ARO brand Meghan is aiming for, but falls very short of the person Harry views himself as (‘hero Harry). Harry has lost the ability for them to peacefully co exist. His behavior over the last 4 years, and their mutual statements together have forced him to choose one. So now rehabbing one image will always mean the eroding of the other. I still think he wants to do both but I think after the Netflix series fails, we’ll see him drop polo all together and try and go all in on IG again, but unfortunately by that time IG will have moved on out of necessity.

Polo is a rich person's sport but polo also isn't a thing here in the US. Unless you live in the tony old-school old-money enclaves where people are playing polo (Santa Barbara, Charleston, the Hamptons, and Miami, for example), polo just isn't on your radar here in the US like it may be in the UK.

If Harry and Meghan really wanted to get in with the rich American folks - like the billionaires, the Hollywood A-List, the politicians, the industry titans - the golf course is where they need to be.

But he's not interested in that. Harry's not interested in anything American except using our first amendment to control what people say about him. He's the worst kind of immigrant.

#ask #sussexes

[tenebraevesper]

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 8)

Welcome to Part 8 of what started as Shadow's character analysis, but also turned into analysis of Sonic in relation to Shadow, as well as me just gushing over the Sonadow ship coz I find it cute.

This post covers the finale of Sonic Prime, Episode 23: From the Top, but this won't be my last post, because I decided to make one more, featuring something of a Final Conclusion to Shadow's story in Sonic Prime.

Well, either that, or I'll just write a bunch of headcanons in regards to what happens after the finale.

So, let's dive in!

Starting from the last episode, the only thing that remained of The Grim is Nine's citadel, with Sonic still fighting Nine, only to finally realize what Nine had truly wanted, understanding his desires. He tries to talk things out with Nine, when suddenly, the cavalry arrives.

''It's over Nine!''

I mean, they didn't really have anywhere else to go besides into the citadel even if they weren't here to beat up Nine for what he had done.

''Get back! Don't make me destroy you all!'' ''Is that what you want? More destruction? Look outside!'' *Nine looks at The Void outside the citadel, devastated*

'I'm sorry for everything Nine. I missed my home so much and was so focused on getting it back that I didn't listen to what you wanted or appreciate what you were trying to do. I never meant to hurt you.''

Just like Shadow, Sonic too has completed his own character growth, admitting and apologizing for hurting Nine. He has learned a lot about communication and how refusing to listening to other people can have devastating consequences.

''Stop! Everyone stop! This isn't the solution!''

Sonic goes so far to protect Nine from his own allies, showing a great deal of maturity. He knows when he has to stop the battle, being the voice of reason by pointing out how they have no time left and there will be nothing to fight over. All he wants is for this to stop.

Nine also understands how bad the situation was, apologizing for what he had done and noting how, without a great sacrifice, reality as they know it will be over. As everyone mourns their loss, we see this little exchange.

''Not yet!''

While I'm not certain whether Sonic saw Shadow's little nod, I know that he is aware that there is one more thing he can do. He has the remaining Prism energy, and he is willing to sacrifice his own life to stabilize the Paradox Prism and fix reality.

''You'd do that? After everything I-'' ''What are friends for?''

Sonic assures Nine that it's fine, and what I love about this moment is how he looks over to Shadow, once again seeking assurance. This will be dangerous for him, and he needs support. One could even interpret this as ''If I'm gone, take care of everything'', with Shadow affirming that he will.

Sonic then begs everyone to leave Nine alone, while also telling Nine not to cause trouble anymore. Rebel agrees with this, knowing they have no other choice. Now, they have to trust Nine. However, if he removes the energy, Sonic might fall apart.

''What about Shadow?'' ''Shadow wasn't there for the shatter event. He blipped into this reality. But I shattered the Prism.'' ''And without the Prism energy binding him...''

Gotta love how Rebel is willing to throw Shadow under the bus. Admittedly, she probably was wondering whether he too had the same Prism energy, at least until Sonic explains it that, no, he doesn't. He then admits to shattering the Prism, taking responsibility for his actions.

I'm certain that in this moment, Shadow was quite proud of Sonic.

Nine then starts the extraction, and it's obviously quite painful for Sonic. Once it's complete, he faints, seemingly dead.

Look at Shadow's expression here. This is the look of someone whose heart has just been shattered in a million pieces. He just watched Sonic sacrifice himself to fix reality, not even knowing whether he will survive, and he couldn't do anything. Shadow genuinely cares about Sonic, reaching out for him, but when there's seemingly no response, his ears droop and he looks crushed.

Shadow knows that Sonic has been in many rough situations, but now, he doesn't even know whether he is alive or dead. Hell, maybe he was also dealing with flashbacks of another loss he had suffered. Who knows? But, it is certain that at this point, he cares so much about Sonic and he doesn't want to lose him.

Fortunately, Sonic is still alive, but only barely. The only thing that kept him like this was the Paradox Prism energy, but now that he's gone, he became similar to his friends at Ghost Hill. To make things worse, he is also fading, meaning he doesn't have much time left.

Unfortunately for everyone, the Chaos Council, being Eggman's Shatterverse Variants, decide to betray everyone.

''Stand down, edgelord!''

Of course they had to throw in at least one edgelord insult for Shadow.

Fortunately for everyone involved, all of the Chaos Council members have egos the size of a skyscraper, so they quickly get into a fight with each other.

''Hold on, Shadow. Let's see how this plays out.''

Shadow wants to throw down hands with the Chaos Council, but is stopped by Rebel, who basically tells him to kick back, relax and get some popcorn while the Chaos Council members fight each other. And Shadow actually listens instead of going for the violent option.

With Nine opening the portal to The Void and the Mr. Dr. Eggman starting to blast everything, it is clear that they need to just end this pitiful situation.

''How about now?'' ''Knock yourself out.''

I just love how Shadow respects Rebel enough to ask her for permission to go beat up the Chaos Council. He was so itching for this fight and it had to be cathartic for him.

With the Chaos Council gone, Nine fixes the Shatterspaces, and the Paradox Prism vanishes.

Green Hill, Sonic and Shadow's home, is back, and now, they have to leave as fast as possible, because Sonic's time is running out. After saying their goodbyes...

....and hugging Nine for good measure, Sonic leaves with Thorn and Birdie, who want to bring him home.

We then get this moment.

''Oh! I suppose you need a ride too!''

They frigging forgot about Shadow! *laughs her ass off*

I just love how Shadow just responds with a ''hmph'', reverting back to his usual closed-off self. Sure, he can show emotions around Sonic, but everyone else doesn't get to see the softer side of him.

That, and he probably didn't want to ask for help to return home.

Admittedly, it is good that Black Rose and Rusty Rose got the ship to get Shadow to Sonic and Thorn, since Birdie got injured from the crystals.

At this point, Shadow knows that they have not much left, as Sonic is barely holding on and Black Rose's ship can't get any faster.

''Black Rose! You've brought us far enough. I'll take it from here!''

Shadow is the only one fast enough to bring Sonic to the safety of Green Hill, finally getting to do his part in saving Sonic's life.

''Goodbye, Roses...''

I'm not crying, somebody's cutting onions!

When Sonic goes down, Shadow has no other choice but to carry him bridal-style, now speeding through The Void as fast as he can. He is determined to save him, and I'm certain that he feels that creeping sense of panic, his heart beating faster as he realizes that he only has seconds left.

''I never knew you were a hugger.'' ''Do you want me to save you or not?''

God, this scene would be so adorable if it weren't for the fact that Sonic is dying. Like seriously, I was in a state between ''Oh, no!'' and ''Just kiss already!''

It is just like Sonic to get one last quip in, even on death's door, and it's to basically banter/flirt with Shadow. Shadow responds, probably relieved to see that there is still a bit of life in Sonic left, and we can see Sonic smile for a brief moment at his response, before fainting, his arm falling down, now limp.

Shadow has a look of terror on his expression, realizing that he's losing Sonic and quickly speeds up.

''HANG ON, SONIC!''

Shadow creates at least four sonic booms with the speed he had managed to achieve, flying through The Void and towards Green Hill, tightening his grip around Sonic. He is not going to let him go, shouting for him to hang on.

Then, he enters the gateway to Green Hill, and we see only white.

Fortunately, they make it through, with Sonic finding himself just in the moment before he shattered the Paradox Prism, elated to see that everything had gone back to normal, and even hugging Dr. Eggman because, yes, he missed him too.

He also shows off what he had learned, sticking close to his friends as they fight Eggman, only to spot someone familiar at the entrance to the cave.

It's Shadow, and he's gotten back the Chaos Emerald he lost to The Void. I suppose this confirms that time has indeed been reset.

We also know that Sonic and Shadow have retained their memories of the Shatterverse, both communicating with just a look about their plan to protect the Paradox Prism.

''This world is mine!'' *Shadow Chaos Controls on top of the Paradox Prism* ''Huh? Shadow? What the heck are you doing here?!''

''I am the Ultimate Lifeform. I go wherever I want.'' ''Wh-huh?'' ''CHAOS CONTROL!''

And that's how Eggman's plan got foiled. Sonic mocks him, he curses the day and leaves, and Sonic's friends probably wonder what the hell had happened.

Gotta say, if Shadow and Sonic had communicated about this back in Episode 01, none of the Shatterverse Adventure would've happened... I guess.

Sonic decides to relax on the beach with his friends, only to deal with a new threat (probably Dr. Eggman coming back with a new scheme) and the adventure continues, while the viewers are left with many unanswered questions, like what did Shadow do with the Paradox Prism and moreover, does the Shatteverse still exist, because what happens here resembles a lot the events of Sonic the Hedgehog (2006), where the time has been reset.

Also, I wish that Shadow had been in this group shot, because he really deserved to be added as a member of Sonic's team. Or at least we could've gotten one more moment between him and Sonic where they reflect on their adventure.

Rest assured, this adventure was great and watching Shadow and Sonic both grow as characters, and show a new level of appreciation, care, understanding and respect for each other was amazing.

Not to mention all the Sonadow moments sprinkled in-between that left the shipping community quite satisfied, giving us enough fuel until the inevitable when we finally get to Sonic Movie 3.

Tune in next time for my Final Conclusion!

#Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 7)

#Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Final Conclusion)

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)

#Ten's Thoughts #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #tails nine #sonic prime #sonadow #sonadow prime

[theshinazugawaslut]

what's your opinion on the other Canon ships in kny, tanjiro x kanao, zenistu x nezuko, etc (I personally dislike them but I wanna know your opinion 🤧)

𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑺

a/n: honoured someone wants my opinions. I'll go through canon ships first, then un-canon!

𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘹 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘰

4/10

I personally really dislike this ship since it came out of nowhere and it feels incredibly forced. Their designs and personalities don't complement each other that well. They seem more like good friends to me.

If we got more of them, it would've made sense.

But I do like the characters separately! The ship just isn't for me!

𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘹 𝘯𝘦𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘰

3/10

Zenitsu and Nezuko COULD have been a good ship but it's not very well done and again, their personalities just don't match. Zenitsu's writing is already rather terrible when it comes to the screaming and yelling (though he has very good morals, great character concept ect.) and the yelling/being perverted is what ruins the relationship.

We also don't see a lot of Nezuko in the first place and she isn't aware of Zenitsu's feelings since she's a demon, so the ship just feels strange and uncomfortable to me.

I also just don't like the ship.

𝘢𝘰𝘪 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦

1/10

TERRIBLE FUCKING SHIP

I don't even know where it came from

I cannot stress this enough but their personalities do NOT match (what I mean by this, they are not the right people to balance each other out).

Doesn't help they deadass look like siblings.

Inosuke should've gotten a girl that had Tanjiro's personality, it would've worked better.

Aoi and Inosuke have borderline no meaningful interactions. Aithor just sloppily meshed them together.

𝘶𝘻𝘶𝘪 𝘹 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴

8/10

I think the ship works rather well; the girls each have their own separate personalities but I do feel like Hinatsuru is the only one who compliments Uzui's personality well but Makio and Suma are also good!

I think you can tell Uzui cares for them but it's not my favourite ship.

My friend James thinks Makio and Suma are annoying. Hinatsuru is "good" though.

𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 𝘹 𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪

10/10

I adore this ship — Obanai and Mitsuri were made for each other; their writing, characters, personalities, and designs are just so cute and well-done!

I liked how the author fleshed out their characters.

My favourite ship!

𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘦

-10/10

What a shitty ass ship.

Doesn't work

Contradictory on every level (Sanemi claims he doesn't like ditzes/certain sort of women when talking about Mitsuri but Kanae is basically just Mitsuri in a different design)

Doesn't make sense

Creepy since Sanemi sees his MOTHER in Kane (the way Inosuke sees his mother in Shinobu/Nezuko).

Barely knew each other; Kanae died a few weeks after knowing Sanemi.

Definitely one-sided (Shinobu adopts Kanae's habits ect. Meaning how Shinobu acts is a reflection of how Kanae would've acted and Shinobu seems to not be all that fond of Sanemi, meaning Kanae probably respected Sanemi but didn't particularly like him.)

Sanemi and Kanae DO NOT match

The author sloppily put it together

𝘺𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘹 𝘶𝘵𝘢

10/10

They complimented each other SO well.

We don't see much of them but you can tell they were made for each other

Yoriichi cradled her dead body for TEN DAYS

𝘩𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘫𝘪 (𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘻𝘢) 𝘹 𝘬𝘰𝘺𝘶𝘬𝘪

10/10

Devastating story.

He loved her so much.

Koyuki was a perfect match for him.

𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘶𝘯-𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴:

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶 𝘹 𝘨𝘪𝘺𝘶𝘶

1/10

I hate this ship since I hate how they look together

I also feel like Giyuu doesn't need someone who jabs at his insecurities ("You really shouldn't be a Hashira, Tomioka-san!" she says to the man who obviously has issues about his place in the Corps.)

Shinobu's teasing nature doesn't match all that well with Giyuu in my opinion, even if she means it lightheartedly.

𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘨𝘪𝘺𝘶𝘶

7/10

I feel like people slander it too much — the interactions the two have later on in the story give reason for people to ship it.

But I feel like whilst Sanemi fits Giyuu, Giyuu doesn't fit Sanemi. Like, what I mean is, I think Sanemi's nature matches Sabito's towards Giyuu, especially later on in the story, but I feel like Sanemi needs someone that isn't Giyuu.

I personally don't ship it because I feel like Giyuu's writing isn't all that delved into.

I love these two platonically though —Sanemi's parallels with Sabito will always keep me in a firm chokehold.

I'm fond of them since they remind me of todobaku but I personally don't ship sanegiyuu.

𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘹 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰

10/10

These two, platonically/romantically, are so cute to me.

Inosuke always holding onto Tanjiro and Tanjiro's understanding of Inosuke is so precious to me.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘢 𝘹 𝘮𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰

10/10

Such an adorable ship — I love the shy, angry guy paired with the oblivious, dense guy trope so much (#todobaku).

Their friendship was so sweet, too.

I wish we got more of them since they compliment each other so well!

𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘨𝘪𝘺𝘶𝘶

7/10

I love this ship BUT only if it's aged-up Sabito

To be honest, I think I only like this ship because I had such a big crush on Sabito when he first came up on screen (that man has such a strong personality).

I think the possible dynamic has lots of potential.

Giyuu obviously cares a lot about Sabito — unable to survive with the guilt of his best friend dying for years and causing him to become suicidal, like, bro was in love?

𝘮𝘶𝘻𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘬𝘰𝘬𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘰

6/10

The fanfics for this ship are always written so well

I don't actually SHIP it but the dark potential it has for fanfics...

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘢 𝘹 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰

7/10

It's such a sweet idea — I feel like Tanjiro and Genya really connect

Don't personally ship it but it has such adorable fanarts

𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘰 𝘹 𝘯𝘦𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘰

4/10

Random ass ship

Seem more like besties that hold hands and run around together

But the shippers are sweet

𝘶𝘻𝘶𝘪 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘬𝘶

6/10

The fanfictions are SO funny

I don't actually ship it but they'd be so fun together.

A couple that seem like besties then you find out they're married with fifteen adopted children.

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶 𝘹 𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪

10/10

Adorable ship

Only person Shinobu seems to genuinely like

I love these two together

/ if you guys want my opinions on anything else or would like me to expand, don't hesitate to ask!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #ships #tanjiro #kanao #sanemi #kanae #shinobu #giyuu #sabito #yoriichi #muzan #kokushibo #obanai #mitsuri #rengoku #uzui #hinatsuru #makio #suma #esha blabbers #esha answers your questions