maplemind · 11 months ago
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Ok I’m having thoughts about the Uther / Arthur dynamic…
I think that Arthur was entirely raised by wet nurses / nannies / etc because Uther’s negative feelings were too strong.
I think for most of Arthur’s youth, Uther resented, regretted, and somehow blamed Arthur for the loss of Ygraine. And I think Uther essentially avoided his own son as much as he could get away with.
I think he got so desperate for an heir (and of course the problem couldn’t be with him, it had to be Ygraine’s reproductive system that was faulty), that he didn’t do his research, or didn’t listen to warnings, or somehow believed himself above the potential consequences.
I bet he knew that a life would be taken, but he assumed it would be some peasant of Camelot, maybe a knight, maybe one of his lords, but thought he and his family would be immune and would obviously be spared. Because, y’know, he’s the king of Camelot.
And I think he blamed Arthur for some messed up reason (I mean, ok, grief does weird things to people).
And I think every time he realised Arthur isn’t a carbon copy of him, isn’t the perfect heir (impossibly strong, talented, and stoic) he resents him and regrets that he traded the love of his life for “this disappointment”. Surely magic should have given him the absolute perfect heir? And person so amazing they’re beyond all human comprehension, right? Like Hercules, or Achilles.
Also, the way Uther loses his godamn mind when Morgana is dying in S3, the way he waxes lyrical about how important she is to him, how he can’t live without her… yet Arthur has been dying twice by this point and Uther gets no where near as upset. In fact, he sits with his dying son once, admits that his death is inevitable, then goes about his day without a second glance…
And because of the way his father couldn’t even spare him a glance, let alone a hug, or comfort, or an “I love you, I’m proud of you”, I don’t think Arthur knows what affection really is. I don’t think he truly understands how love feels.
I think that’s why he was so off-balance when he went to save Ealdor with Merlin and saw the way he and his mother interacted. It threw everything he’d ever known into doubt.
Maybe he thought that kind of love, affection, and physical comfort is for poor people, because that’s what his experience told him.
And maybe it made Arthur think - “what if my mother had survived? What if my father’s life had been taken instead?”
And what if Ygraine had lived and Uther had died? I mean, the spell gave Uther an heir to take over when he died, and he got what he wanted, right? So if Uther dies right away… well, you’ve got your heir you wanted, he’ll take your place like he’s supposed to!
Arthur has lived his whole life feeling like he wasn’t wanted - that’s what all the evidence told him. Then he finds out he’s “the reason” his mother is dead and his father is a heartless, emotionless, bitter man?
Holy shinsplints Arthur. No wonder he couldn’t accept the affection Merlin and Guinevere clearly had for him. Maybe that’s why he kept freaking out and throwing it back in their faces, getting angry, pushing them away.
He was scared because he had absolutely no idea how to react to it - no blueprint, no examples, no evidence that his own upbringing and his father’s mentality isn’t normal.
But my god did he try and give out all the love he had stored in his heart, all the love that was wasted on his father and was never reciprocated. My god did he try.
Bless you, Arthur. My heart aches so damn hard for you.
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silentwillowwhisperer · 1 year ago
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We were robbed of this
Guys Keith and Allura are besties. I hate that they only had an interaction when dream works needed her to create racial drama for him. And once they make up, they go back to being distant.
———————-
Does Keith have a random collection of art supplies hidden in his closet?
Nope.
He goes to Allura’s room instead. Thanks to their shared experiences and mutual feelings of unbelonging, they’re actually best friends. (Shiro and Coran are family, so don’t worry, they aren’t being replaced.)
Allura practices hairdos and makeup on Keith while he puts her untouched art supplies to use and spills his guts to her. It’s a win-win, Keith gets things off his chest that he can’t say to anyone else, and Allura gets all the gossip.And, of course Allura shares a bit, but she finds it easier to listen to others and find comfort in that.
Which is why she feels horrible betrayal crawling through her gut when Shiro and Keith got to the Marmora base and won’t tell her anything anymore.
She knows it’s because he’s worried that he’ll crack and gush everything to her ( can never keep secrets from the princess) but she doesn’t understand what could be so bad that he doesn’t want to get advice from her.
It feels like she’s losing him.
She finds out that he is half Galra and explodes internally. Not only had she told the enemy her darkest secrets, but she actually valued him.
It had to be a mistake, or maybe Keith is even faking it to cover up something else.
But the deep hurt that floods his eyes any time she looks at him is very clearly genuine.
She’s never seen him looks so wounded. Wait, yes she has. He looks like this when he talks about his dad running into a flaming building and leaving him behind forever without a second thought.
And Keith has been getting more stressed without a creative outlet as well, and the whole team notices the tension when Keith makes it past level 183 on the training simulator.
Lance has gotten more protective and it is common to see him with an arm around Keith protectively and sending Allura loathing looks.
Keith and Allura make up when she realizes how crappy she’s been but doesn’t know how to apologize as sincerely as he deserves.
She takes her chance after Keith announces to the team that he and Lance are are officially dating. Allura had known about Keith’s crush for a long time now, longer than Shiro.
Allura slides up to Keith during dinner.
“So. You did it. Make sure you hang on to him, he seems like a good one.”
As the resident lesbian of the castle, Allura does not understand the men she is surrounded by, but Keith is the only one willing to indulge in ‘girl time.’
When Keith only raises an eyebrow at her sudden interest in him, she starts blabbing apologies.
“I’ll never be able to make it up to you, you deserved absolutely none of my crap, but ple-“
She’s cut off by Keith hugging her. One thing about Keith is that his surprisingly small frame makes him great for hugging. He almost seems delicate like this.
His voice wobbles when he speaks, which drives a stake through Allura’s heart.
“It’s alright. I just missed my alien twin bestie. You’ve already done so much more for me than you think.”
Lance has clearly gotten to him, but Allura ignores that. She’s just happy to have her friend back.
(His weird habit of mimicking other people’s behaviors just comes was part of him.)
————————-
I think platonic love is SO important.
Side note: Someone said the word delicate to my art teacher today, and THIS QUEEN starts singing the song, and agh I started singing it too, and I love her so much, she SLAYS.
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moonchild-in-blue · 10 months ago
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heya! hope you don't mind the litany of numbers here: 40, 42, 46, and 59?
Helloo, I do not mind at all!!! I will put these under the cut as well, because l o n g . Had to chew on them for a while oof.
(Favorite food/type of food? What do you feel like you’re missing from your life right now? What’s the most beautiful dream you can remember having? What’s the happiest day of your life you’ve ever had?)
40 - Favorite food/type of food?
Cereals / Ramen / Pasta / Pizza. I could live on those for the rest of my life.
I have a weird relationship with food, between allergies and being very picky and weird about textures and scents. But I love "breaksfast" food. Give me scrambled eggs, sourdough bread, pancakes, pastries, coffee, juice. Cut fruit! Cookies! Those are my "safe foods" if you will. Big enjoyer of sweet stuff hehe.
And Italian/Mediterranean cuisine - the south european is jumping out lmao.
42 - What do you feel like you’re missing from your life right now?
Strength. A sense of direction, and motivation to pursue the things I want to. And affection. I have wonderful friends, and a supporting family (even with its many, many issues), but I am no one's number one priority.
All of my friends have either gotten married, or in serious committed relationships in the past two years, and I can't help but feel left out. Which is stupid and ridiculous but. Idk. I am fully aware I am very not at my best mentally, and pursuing a romantic relationship right now would be disastrous for everyone involved. But there's always this lingering feeling of wanting to be loved like that, that I can't really shake, you know?
I feel very silly typing this but. It is what it is.
46 - What’s the most beautiful dream you can remember having?
Beautiful? I don't think I remember, most if them are very weird. There was this one where I was in this abandoned garden, in some old castle's ruins. There was lush greenery all around. I had a very long pretty dress, very Elizabeth Swan style. I climbed up some stairs and there was this guy there - he was beautiful as hell.
His face was illuminated by sunshine, copper curls shinning beautifully, and you could see his freckles so clearly, peppered in a long, pointy nose. He was just standing there, eyes closed, soaking in the sunshine. His lips were rosy and plush, but I don't think he said anything. I just stood looking at him, as if we had known each other our whole lives, and there was nothing to say but to enjoy each other's company.
I woke up with the weirdest feeling and had to sketch him right away, although I could not do him justice. I think about him sometimes.
59 - What’s the happiest day of your life you’ve ever had?
Watching Linkin Park live will always be the highlight of my life. And meeting some of my favourite bands!
My best friends' weddings were beautiful, and are also sacred moments cherished (hehehe). Rather then a specific day, I think about the summers me and my friends would spend together - those were the happiest days of my life, and I mourn for them profoundly. I was at my worst mentally, but we had each other in a way it will never be reproduced again.
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sarah-dipitous · 10 months ago
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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 355
Eve of the Daleks
Not posting yesterday felt weird. I can’t believe 2024 is gonna be like that for 366 days…
“Eve of the Daleks”
Plot Description: on New Year’s Eve, at an Elf Storage facility, Sarah is working—again. Nick is her only customer—again. Same old same old. Except this year, their countdown to midnight will be the strangest and deadliest they have ever known
(Before I press play, I do wonder if I’ll feel the same way watching this as Mary (potentially) feels every time there’s a Mary I talk about in one of these series. I didn’t feel it with Sarah Jane but that’s because she’s Sarah JANE)
…dude…read the room. She’s CLEARLY rather be AT those parties on nye than at work. I mean, just because you and I don’t like nye, doesn’t mean everyone doesn’t
Shut the fuck up, Nick. Yes, she deserves better than Jeff, but that doesn’t mean YOU
Also how does she stay in business if Nick is her ONLY customer??
They were promised a beach and the Doctor brought them to Manchester
Oh…Jeff isn’t her boyfriend, he’s a family member? Coworker? Truly not sure
Excuse me?!?! It killed Nick and Sarah, but then it also seemingly killed the TARDIS trio??
Are we in a time loop? Why is the Dalek sending them into a time loop rather than actually killing them?
Dalek: The inferior human is correct. Dan: who are you calling inferior?! Dalek: you. (I will never not love when the Daleks are sassy)
“We’re stuck in a time loop with killer robots” is the funniest thing to immediately make sense for two people who’ve never met the Doctor before
Nick, you need a better way to explain that. You can’t just say you’ve held on to stuff from all the women you’ve dated in a storage unit just in case they ever want it back…especially not organized this thoroughly. She can buy a new monopoly game. She’s harsh, but Sarah’s right, he should throw things away
They better not have killed Dan off. I know he’s the most random dude who just got real lucky to get brought along but…doesn’t mean he deserves to die
Sarah’s so fucking funny. Girl, you did not have to tell Nick you did not go looking for him in the second loop
So, how ARE Jeff’s rooms full of random shit going to actually end up helping?
I don’t want them to end up together but if they could be casual friends after this, I think it would be good for both of them. Sarah already said Nick’s crush on her for the past three years and coming to the storage unit just before midnight on nye is stalker-y. Don’t make them get together
So at what point did Yaz start feeling this way about the Doctor?? Graham and Ryan never picked up on it but DAN does?? UNLESS it was after the other two left
Dan being the best wingman for Yaz
Omg…it’s not elf storage…it was always meant to be self storage
You know…that was even more spectacular than when Rose’s workplace blew up. There’s fireworks this time
Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh they DID make Sarah and Nick a couple in the end…….wait. Wait. Wait. Their first date is traveling around the world together. PUMP THE FUCKING BREAKS AND GET COFFEE OR DINNER FIRST
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safetycar-restart · 2 years ago
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GUESS WHO I'M GONNA TALK ABOUT 🏉
So the performance coach au is almost perfectly set for Geirge,let me explain.
Obviously as his performance coach there's so much order and structure to it ,a basic set of rules that he has to follows? It changes his life , he doesn't have to make any decisions for himself at all when it comes to work life because you choose everything for him, how he works out, his food, he's never felt so happy because he just has to do what he's told!
But then when he goes home? He starts having meltdowns because he goes to his wardrobe to put something on and he cries because he can't decide, what does he eat for breakfast? What should he do now? He's just a lost poor thing who doesn't want you to think that he's weird for wanting you to make all his decisions for him?
And even if he somehow makes a choice on his own, it's not right because you Don't tell him he did a good job after he does it,he wants reassurance and that's more than he thinks you can give.
And of course he's constantly crying and having mood swings now because you did this to him! He can't make his own decisions after meeting you and you start having to make more decisions for him because bless him the poor thing clearly needs some extra help to get through the day, how does it become a full d/s dynamic....Good question
OH MY GOD RUGBY ANON WELCOME!!!! WELCOME WELCOME I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS AU WOULD SUMMON YOU. And yes you’re absolutely right about all of this I’m obsessed.
Maybe you get assigned to George to be his performance coach when he joins merc? When he was at Williams, he has a coach that was much more chilled, he would get a general plan but had to make most of the decisions himself.
He thought he liked that. And he would spend hours planning his week and what he would eat when and when he would do which workout. He really did pride himself on it.
But he didn’t realise how much stress it caused him until he was assigned a new performance coach that gave him detailed instructions and suddenly he didn’t have to worry about what to do.
And it just completely changes his life?
He adores having all those decisions made for him, loves that he can just focus on driving and everything else has already been decided. Not only that, but he loves that he’s obeying you specifically?
When he opens his phone and sees the meal you’ve chosen for him and makes it for himself, he not only feels so settled because he had the decision made for him, but he also feels almost giddy because he’s doing what you said? And then when he messages you a picture of the meal as proof and you say good job, he gets so fucking happy it’s like his heart might explode.
He absolutely adores obeying you and making you happy and loves that you make all his decisions about diet and exercise. And you also help him prep before a race? You help him with his warmup and make sure he’s eaten enough, etc.
But the best part about that is that from about half an hour before he gets in the car, he doesn’t have to think about anything but racing. Because you’ve got everything else for him. Even his warm up routine. You start it, you direct him, you tell him when to change into his race suit. You do it all and he loves it so much.
I think his first meltdown would come over the summer break? Because during the season, you always give him instructions on what to eat and when to exercise even between races.
But the point of the summer break is to take an actual break, so you tell him to take three weeks to himself to have fun and relax and that you’ll train with him for the last two weeks of the break.
At first he thinks that’ll be fine, maybe he even looks forward to being able to spend time with friends and family again.
But he has a meltdown the first morning of the summer break when his mom makes pancakes and he realises he can’t message you to ask about what topping he must choose.
It’s not about potential weight gain or staying healthy. He knows he can have a cheat meal every now and then. But it’s about the fact that he’s so used to you choosing for him, so used to sending you a pic of his meals and getting praise in return.
And now he must just… do it all himself? The poor thing is really having an entire crisis over whether he should choose strawberry jam or Nutella and banana.
He knows he can’t message you about it, because you literally instructed him to go make his own choices for a while. But he can’t??? He really can’t.
He loved every second of you making the choices for him and he isn’t ready to give it up.
Making decisions himself seems wrong now, almost like he’s betraying you? How dare he make his own choices when he has you?
Maybe he doesn’t contact you about this and instead just withers away for the first half of the summer break, trying to function as best he can and failing because he needs you to make his choices.
And then he’s finally back with you for training towards the end of the summer break and he’s just clingy? George has always enjoyed getting huge and praise from you, but now it’s like he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to the away from you, ever.
So yeah, the poor thing is so happy with you but he very much needs the relationship to take the next step.
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crazedlunatic · 2 years ago
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Ryan Officially Meets Kurt
 I know Ryan was at the wedding so he’s technically has met Kurt but I think he is a…
What did Brady say?
A fangirl.
But he’s a boy, so I’m confused.
Is that slang?
Blaine, who was holding a 4-month-old Zach in one arm, saw the texts from Bob on his watch and laughed.
It’s okay.
This sucks. I’m the cute one. It’s not fair.
I’ve met my texting quote for the day. See you soon.
No potato candy for you.
Where can I return your adoption papers?
Blaine handed Zach off to Kurt who had finally gotten Nick’s ‘shoes’ on him. He then scooped Nick up, who immediately gave a toothless grin.
Both Kurt and Blaine were startled when Nick suddenly let out his first—that had to be a laugh, right?
“Was he imitating your laugh?!” Kurt exclaimed.
“Oh my God! He imitated me!” Blaine gasped. He then asked, “When is he supposed to do that? Also, I really don’t want to go back to work next week.”
“I know.” Kurt sighed. “I don’t want to go back to work either… even if I’m out longer than you.”
Blaine kicked the screen door out, caught it with his foot once he was out, and let Kurt and Zach out. He didn’t even bother to pull it closed.
“Just because your dad’s locked up doesn’t mean we should just leave the front door open.” Kurt said going into Bob’s house.
“We didn’t bring the baby bag…. Bags. Bag. We decided it was easier to do one bag, right?”
“We have a bag there already.”
“Why did we bring one then?”
“I don’t know. Where is my brain? Will it ever come back?”
“Nope. Welcome to being a parent” Jamie, Ryan’s husband, who happened to be in the entrance of the house alone waved. “Can I get the bag?”
“That’d be great—” Blaine looked confused.
“Don’t worry. Only another four years and they’ll look like that.” Jamie pointed out towards Bob’s backyard where their son and daughter were playing with Emily and Miles. “Oh, also. Hi. I was at your wedding. My husband is obsessed with you… he says he just really, really likes all of your clothes.”
“Oh, thanks.” Kurt yawned. He then tilted his head, “He’s not like… obsessed?”
“Oh. No. Not really. But he’s always liked Marc and his adopted dogs or something? Also the charities he supports. I can’t find the time to find obsessions.”
An adorable toddler toddled in and sat down right on Jamie’s shoes. She then pointed up and said, “Daddy, bay-bee. Bay-bee.”
“Yeah. It’s a baby.” Jamie lifted her so she could see but wasn’t too close to the babies. “She recently turned two. She’s a little behind on her words but he was too and now he never stops talking now.”
Ryan came in quickly, clearly trying to find her.
This time Zach spontaneously laughed. The twins then looked at each other, confused.
“Oh, Bob will be mad he missed that. That was so cute.” Ryan said and then asked sweetly, “She’s genetically yours. I can play that game too. He gets into more trouble than my perfect child. Your mom agrees.” He then gasped, “They are so cute! Oh my God.”
Both Kurt and Blaine gave the same exhausted smiles. If only they got a nap per time they heard it, they’d never need it.
“I don’t want to be a stalker or a weird person but I really love the design elements that you’ve added to the line.” Ryan said. “It’s needed an overhaul. I can’t believe I’ve known Blaine since he was in law school and he’s married to you.”
Kurt readjusted the baby and gave a real, unforced smile. “Thank you. I actually had to, uhm, drop a class due to a family emergency—” He glanced at Blaine and continued. “But it ended up working really well for me in the end.”
“We met in college. Well… sort of. Kind of.” Jamie said.
“Yeah and he corrupted me.”
Jamie rolled his eyes and asked, “Can you hold her? I’m starting to think the pull up did leak on me.”
Ryan maintained a neutral face until Jamie was out of earshot and said to Blaine, “I’m always right and he never listens to me… it’s okay. He’s brought home much worse stuff. Like some kind of plague thing? I don’t know.”
“Is that an exaggeration?” Kurt tilted his head.
“I hope he was exaggerating. Sometimes I don’t ask because I’m afraid it’s true.” Ryan confided. “How is it working in fashion? Like legitimately working with Marc? Do you actually see him every day?”
“Most of the time, yeah… but I get to make my own decisions a lot of the time. I got a better job offer a rank up somewhere else but… Marc. Blaine and I are still debating if it’s a good move but it would mean Blaine’s hours would be a little wonky. How do you like being a lawyer?”
“I liked it a lot better before I was promoted.” Ryan purposefully joked as Bob walked past the room.
“Same here.” Bob said without stopping.
“You could retire for 20 lifetimes.” Ryan called after him. Maybe 50.”
“I wonder how much of his money isn’t even CMJ related but work injuries from psychotic people.” Jamie asked out loud.
“Asked. He doesn’t even know.” Ryan looked confused. “I would much rather talk about fashion.”
They all went quiet as Ryan and Jamie’s daughter went and sat between where the twins were looking amazed.
“Oh. I saved his life once.” Jamie said suddenly. “Well, I helped. It was the first time I’d ever seen an organ removed.”
“Clothing. Not organs.” Ryan sounded impatient.
“Daddy, can we get McDonalds?” Their oldest, the son, asked.
“No.” Ryan and Jamie responded together, making the toddler giggle.
Bob came into the room, immediately scooping Nick up.
“Hey, Bob.” Ryan said sweetly. “How much do you want to bet Kurt will make more than you by the time he’s 48?”
“I think you’re forgetting he turns 50 soon.” Sarah singsonged from another room.
“And yet I still have the same birthday as you.” Bob singsonged back, leaving the room.
“Wait. Wait. Really?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah. I came out twenty minutes before her, though.” Bob came back into the room. “Birth certificate was wrong.”
“Shut up.” Ryan said. “Legitimately? Why am I talking to you right now? Kurt Hummel is here—oh, wait. Are you changing your last name legally?”
“It’s been filed.” Kurt said excitedly. “And then we have to do the second parent adoption?”
“Honestly Millie could probably speed that up for you. She helped facilitate ours. It maybe took 3 days. I’m sounding like a lawyer again.” Ryan sighed. “But in all seriousness, Kurt, have you been paying attention to social media?”
“I avoid it like the plague.” Kurt said. “I have a private account from undergrad that I still have open and check on it. My PR person does a lot of the work on that, though. I mostly stay in my office and sketch until I get a concrete idea. Then I send it off.”
“To Marc to approve?”
Kurt looked a bit embarrassed and said, “I don’t have to have approval anymore.”
“What?!” Blaine, who had been chatting with Jamie, looked up.
“Surprise?”
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ickypuppi3 · 2 years ago
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so glad i’m not the only one who found those eddie and dustin scenes off putting lmao
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bigricc · 2 years ago
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A Good Man | DR
2k of a bit of self loathing and a lot of mutual pining. This was semi rushed and I don’t love the ending but I hope you like :)
If Daniel was a good man, he would have turned his car around before you had time to notice his headlights glaring into your front windows. If he was a good man, he would have stopped himself from knocking on your door so loudly. Perhaps, if he had been quieter, you wouldn’t have been so quick to open the door, and he would have time to shuffle back to his car and pretend he didn’t feel as bad as he did. But, he was selfish by nature. He needed you, more than he could ever bring himself to admit. So no, Daniel was not a good man.
“Dan? What- what are you doing here?” 
Fuck. Of course, regardless of all of the shit he had put you through, you could never be angry enough at him to call him by his full name. His internal dialogue is so loud he doesn’t notice you take a step closer to him until suddenly, you’re staring up at him with a look on your face that wasn’t familiar to him. He had spent the better part of twenty years memorising each and every twitch of your face and how you expressed yourself, but suddenly he felt lost.
“Sorry. I know it’s late, but uh, I just landed and I don’t really want to go home yet. I don’t know. Is that weird?” He’s rambling, he knows he is. He feels so deeply uncomfortable having to show up to your house just before midnight because he’s lonely.
He’s standing in your living room, staring at a photo of the two of you at sixteen, along with Jackson and Ben. You almost feel embarrassed about it, given that there are countless other photos of your friends that are far more recent, and probably less cringe inducing. But there’s something about this particular photo that you feel attached to. Maybe it’s the innocence written across each of your faces. Sixteen and untainted by adulthood. The way you’re sandwiched between the lanky teenage boys, smiling so hard you have to squint at whoever is behind the camera. Maybe it was Kate. It didn’t matter anymore.
He’s been looking at it for so long, you have to assume he’s waiting for you to say something.
“How was the race?” You knew exactly how it was. You had stayed awake until the early hours watching it.
“P14. I’m a fucking joke.” He choked out a stiff laugh.
“You’re not a joke Dan, don’t say that.” He was still staring at that fucking photo. “Look at me.”
He takes his time turning around. You’ve wedged yourself into the corner of the couch, clearly your favourite spot given the way the cushion dips in the middle. He remembers the way you used to fight everyone for that spot, just so you could stretch your legs out across the laps of whoever was sat next to you.
“Are you doing okay? I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Two months had gone by since your last phone call. Most of your updates on his life came via his parents or sister.
“Just been trying to figure some things out. I’m sorry.” He was mumbling, a far cry from his usually boisterous self. He takes a pause, and then out of nowhere, “Do you think I’m a bad person?”
“What are- why would I think that?” You almost want to cry. You’re so tired, and his sudden appearance has set your brain alight.
“I just feel like every time I come home, and I- and I’ve got a good thing going with everyone. You, my friends, even my own fucking family.” His eyebrows are pulled tight towards the centre of his face, mouth slanted down in a frown. “I finally feel back on track, and then I leave again, and it’s all fucked.”
You’ve known this man for most of your life, and only a handful of times have you seen him so distraught. Usually, his face is graced with a grin that takes over the room. But now, he resembles a lost little boy.
“What- back on track? What does that mean?” Your scrambling to find words, anything to say just to fill the silence.
“I think- I was so naive when I was younger, thinking that I would just get to come back whenever I felt like it as if the entirety of fucking Perth would just press play as soon as I stepped foot into the country. As if I wasn’t missing out on everything,” He’s speaking so fast, you almost can’t keep up. “I’m missing out on everything. And it makes me feel so fucking lonely.”
His confession makes you feel sick. A man who has friends scattered across the globe is lonely. But really, you know that none of those people are important. His friends and family here, at home, are the only people he craves when it’s late at night and the parties have died down. As flushed as it makes you feel, you know you’re included in that.
“Dan I- you’re not missing out. We’re not exactly doing anything exciting over here.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke, you know that. Because it’s not about that, it’s the comfort of home that he craves.
“I’ve missed out on so fucking much! Jack’s wedding, I still haven’t met Sarah’s baby, by the way- who’s almost two. Two!” He’s frantic now. “What kind of friend does that make me? And you and I are still- I feel like an idiot every time I come here, because I never know what’s going on.”
Suddenly, it’s quiet again. If it weren’t for the low hum of the fridge, you were sure he would be able to hear your heart beating.
“What do you mean, you and I?” You can feel sweat forming at the nape of your neck, uncomfortable in his presence for the first time.
“I mean, we were something. Weren’t we?” He can’t look at you, not wanting to see the rejection before he has to hear it.
He’s right, in a way. If you count a short few months of fumbling around each other when you were seventeen. It was before he left for Europe, before you were forced to move forward without his constant presence. You had never thought too hard about that time, not wanting to face the truth about your feelings. You knew it was likely that to him, rushed kisses and exploratory sex were nothing but a farewell to his upbringing, preparation for the new life ahead of him.
“I didn’t- I didn’t know that was something to you,” You didn’t want to offend him, deduce him to simply a hookup. “We never talked about it like that.”
“I thought you knew! I just- you had a boyfriend when I came back so I just assumed the answer was no.”
He was right. He had come home and you’d been glued to some kid you met at uni. Your first grown up relationship, and it wasn’t with him. The worst part about it was that you hadn’t even told him. He spoke to you on the phone countless times, willing you to bring it up in conversation, practicing having to pretend his mother hadn’t already told him.
You’re standing now, frantic and confused. He stays put, arms now crossed defensively over his chest.
“You never said anything! Dan, what did you expect me to do?” Strangely, you’ve always liked the way he looks down at you when he talks. But now, the eye contact makes you feel sick.
“You never said anything either,”
“I kissed you at the airport! Like an idiot, in front of your family. I kissed you, that said more that you ever did.” You cut him off before he can continue.
He’s still looking at you, but you’ve cast your eyes to the centre of his chest, attention planted on the vague outline of a necklace beneath his t shirt. He takes a step closer towards you, and before you can react, he’s grabbing you by the back of your head to pull you into a hug.
You’re frozen for a second, fearful that any minute now, you would wake up from a horrible dream, and Daniel wouldn’t be standing in your living room. It’s the smell of his cologne, the same one you recommended to him, that pulls you back in and forces you to slide your arms around his waist. He moves his head slightly, and you swear you can hear his heart beat just that little bit faster when he pressed a timid kiss to your temple. You squeeze your arms around him tighter in attempt to spur him on, urging him to please, kiss me again. And he does, slowly becoming more confident with each press of his mouth to your forehead.
“No, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” It’s you who breaks the silence, only now you’re speaking into his neck rather than the air around you. “You’re probably the best person I know, Dan.”
“That can’t be true, have you met our mothers?” It’s lighthearted, a nice change from the tension that has surrounded you for the last hour or so. It has you giggling into him, dragging your hands up and down his back. The longer you stand there, the more he can feel your body sag into him.
“Tired?” You let out an affirmative hum, but make no effort to pull away from him. “You should go to bed.”
“I can’t go to sleep yet.” You say.
“Why’s that?” He laughs.
“Because, you haven’t kissed me yet.” He’s nervous again. When he got in his car, he hadn’t thought about what the outcome of your conversation would be. He imagined that he would mope around a bit, and you would offer a glass of wine and a hug before sending him on his way. Never did he think he would be standing here hearing you ask him to kiss you.
You both pull your heads back at the same time, his hands moving up to grasp your cheeks. There’s a faint smile at the corners of your mouth, and he wishes he could photograph your face in this exact moment and hang it in every room of his house. When the moment arrives, the kiss isn’t what he imagined. When he fantasised about this reunion, he imagined it would be rushed and passionate. Instead, it’s slow and smooth, and he can feel the years of patience seeping through it. He’s the first to pull away, his boyish excitement interrupting the moment.
“I feel like a teenager again.” He’s somewhat embarrassed to admit it, but no kiss he has ever shared with anyone has compared to yours.
“Hopefully, you’ve improved in areas since then.” There’s a teasing smirk on your face, a nod to your past escapades.
“Oh, trust me, I’ve learnt a lot since then.” He’s wiggling his eyebrows at you in a way that is just so him, and if you were slightly younger and perhaps a bit insecure, you imagine the idea of him learning with other women would make you uncomfortable.
You know him and yourself well enough to understand that if this visit had come any earlier in your lives, the outcome could be much different. Now however, you allow yourself to bask in this moment, and in him, without question.
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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years ago
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please please please can we get a Yae Miko reader with the Diasomnia boys? I think the fact a kitsune has a really long lifespan would be a good match for them </3
Just a reminder, I'm opening requests! More info can be found here. I decided to announce that through this so people know ;-;;;;;
I'm not quite sure about Silver though, but I'll use Yae's personality and you can imagine if s/o's a kitsune! ^^
An enigmatic individual, you shroud yourself in a mysterious demeanour, your kind smile seems to make people wonder what your intentions truly are.
While some people are sceptical, you're kindness makes all that doubt melt away, helping your peers and dutiful in your work and theirs.
You're one to enjoy a good book, and you love stories of all kinds.
TWST The benevolent yet enigmatic, book loving s/o (Yae Miko)
Malleus Draconia
Malleus is intrigued by how you present yourself.
Your gentle smile is somehow so... strange. Not to say he sees you as two faced or something, but he feels you hide things from others. He's never spoken about this out loud, but the fae thinks you know he knows.
Nonetheless, he still enjoys you're presence.
A story to share everyday, while you walk around campus with him in the middle of the night. Malleus shares the stories of his own, as he smiles when you ask him more about it, clearly interested in his stories.
He's never talked to anyone besides Lilia, Silver and Sebek, who are considered his family. You were the first person to ever talk to him informally like you were his... friend.
And he smiles softly at the thought. A friend. How nice.
Malleus may find your enigmatic self a little weird, but he gets pass all of it when it comes to you talking about your day, a book you've read, and you share it with him.
In your eyes he can see,
this is your kindness reaching out to him. He won't ever trade it for the world. <3
Lilia Vanrouge
He's amused by how you've shrouded yourself in mystery it seems. All with a lighthearted smile~
Lilia has his fair shares of being known as such throughout the school, and the fae knows this himself. How cheeky.
Lilia is a man filled with stories from his past, from books, stories he shared to Malleus and Silver when they were children, his own knowledge gained from experience. He leaves you guessing how his stories flow, playfully smiling when you pouted upon hearing he'll "stop there".
Much like you, Lilia enjoys listening to the stories you share as well! He could listen to you all day long, all night long. He appreciates that you share stories with Malleus, Silver and Sebek, too. And that you help them and of course, everyone else in NRC to the fullest of your potential. Your kindness has even made Sebek and Malleus smile, something he's overjoyed to see.
You meet Lilia again with a new book in hand, moments like these he is bound to treasure with his heart.
"Well, what's the new lucky book you wish to share with me?~" <3
Silver
Silver never really paid attention, but one glance could make him wonder who you truly are.
Your smile never screamed sinister anywhere, but he feels... that you can be weird sometimes. Something about you is mystifying, but he doesn't ponder too much since that's also kind of Lilia-
Silver is more of a listener than a speaker; he feels as if he doesn't have that many interesting stories to share, preferring to listen to you ramble on and on of the many stories you share with him.
Sometimes when he listens, he lays his head on your thighs as you kneel, he slowly closes his eyes with each stories you share. Not because he grows bored of them, but because he wants to dream about it, as you gently stroke his hair and wish him sweet dreams.
Your kindness of helping Silver catch up with schoolwork, making Sebek somewhat get along with him more, and generally taking care of him makes him feel really happy.
He wonders if you ever grow bored of him, since he feels like he's got nothing interesting. You told him with that signature smile of yours. "Your day experience is always something I look forward to hear." <3
Sebek Vigvolt
It's funny, really.
You're relatively a calm person, and Sebek is, well, Sebek. Really loud and uptight. The type of energy you two resonate is a nice, perfect blend of couple energy. What is contrast with each other, can somehow make the picture look aesthetic, and that's what you two make.
Truthfully, Sebek has found you peculiar and sceptical of course. He puts his guard up in front of you, thinking you're someone trying to do something bad to Malleus.
You smile at him, greeting him politely and sharing about your day and a book you've read which leave the boy baffled. He's.... confused..? But also quite curious about the books you've read without realising it, before reality slaps him across the face and he scolds himself for getting distracted.
But as time goes on, he finds himself peering over your shoulder looking at your book as you share to him about it. Sebek hates to admit it, but he finds your stories so interesting, and he instantly melts when you offer him kindness. Not just to him, but for Malleus and Lilia as well.
"I can trust you, BUT DON'T THINK I WOULD PUT MY GUARD DOWN S/O!!" You giggled. "Of course, of course! I expected much of your diligent self!" Your smile made him blush in embarrassment, oblivious to the watchful eyes of the ruby eyed and emerald eyed faes.
"Ah, young love~" <3
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angelsfalling16 · 3 years ago
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Signs that you're in love with the prince of England:
[This has been sitting in the notes app on my phone for over a year bc I kept forgetting to format and post it]
Reminiscent of the Signs that you’re in love your roommate post that I made a few years ago
On Page 7: the first time you talk about him, you mention him jerking off (okay, I will admit this one is a bit of a stretch, but I'm just getting started)
On Page 10: you imagine "twirling around a ballroom while [he] drones sweet nothings" in your ear (and blush about it!)
On Page 11: you liken him to Prince Charming (another stretch)
On Page 14: you spend half the page describing him in quite complimentary terms (”infuriatingly symmetrical"? Really, Alex?)
On Page 14: you get upset thinking that his dancing with your sister has something to do with you
On Page 15: you clearly remember the first time you really saw him
On Page 16: you used to sneak into your sister's room to touch his hair in a picture
On Page 16: you imagined taking said picture and keeping it in your room
On Page 16: you say he's beautiful
On Page 18: you get defensive and upset when he insinuates that you may be obsessed with him
On Page 19: you delight in the glimpse of his personality
On Page 19: in all the wreckage, you manage to see a small cut on his cheek out of the corner of your eye
On Page 30: you already know everything about him from "hate reading" his Wikipedia page
On Page 36: you describe him poetically. Or really, the way you describe him in that entire page. His hands, his eyes...
On Page 43: you say he's fresh and handsome and his hair looks soft
On Page 43: you say he is annoyingly attractive (and are so distracted you almost don't hear a question you're being asked (on television!!)
On Page 48: you enjoyed that slightly erotic fight you just had with him
On Page 50: you remember the first time you met him "down to the Union Jack on [his] anorak"
On Page 53: one of the first things you say after giving him your number is "no booty calls"
On Page 59: Luna doesn't believe that you're not into the prince
On Page 59: you stared at a photo of him for an hour
On Page 71: you have a stupid smile every time you look at your phone while texting him
On Page 73: you know he's frowning at his phone
On Page 77: you text him every day
On Page 80: you imagine him killing you sensually (yeah, I'm reaching again but this page is great)
On Page 82: you get a big smile at something he says
On Page 83: You're still smiling
On Page 91-92: You tell him about all your family drama/baggage
On Page 95: your sister compares your relationship with him to fake dating turned falling in love trope
On Page 96: you feel warm and nervous when your sister says you like him
On Page 98: you think he has a beautiful face
On Page 99: you really like him
On Page 101: you find him endearing
On Page 102: you feel a strange spark in your gut at the way he's watching you
On Page 103: you feel giddy when he gets jealous of you dancing with someone else
On Page 106: You're thinking about absorbing some of the "much" for him to help him
On Page 108: you don't mind kissing him
On Page 108: kissing him is nothing like kissing anyone you've ever kissed before
On Page 109: you can't stop thinking about the kiss
On Page 113: you think about him and something twists in your chest
On Page 113: You're so caught caught up in thinking about his body that you trip and skin your knee
On Page 114: you've wanted to kiss him this entire time
On Page 115: You're always thinking about him, no matter how hard you try to distract yourself
On Page 120: You're Draco Malfoy level obsessed with him and have been for years
On Page 120: you long-distance flirt with him every day
On Page 120: basically everything that Nora is saying on this page about you...
On Page 124: you get pissed when you see him kissing someone else, before you calm down enough to think it through logically
On Page 129: You're into his British accent
On Page 132: you feel lit up with a feeling that has probably always been there
On Page 135: you have to remind yourself that you don't have feelings for him
On Page 145: you have to remind yourself not to care too much
On Page 158: You're kind of obsessed with him
On Page 159-160: after seeing a picture of him, your heart does a weird thing (that definitely isn't a whole thing)
On Page 160: You're just as attracted to his dark moods as the rest of them
On Page 172: you open up to him about things you don't say to anyone else
On Page 183: your migraine "demands soothing images of Henry looking cozy and picturesque”
On Page 198: you've never met a challenge you didn't live, and he is a challenge
On Page 199: you know all his ticks
On Page 200: you wish you could wake up with him and watch him get ready for the day every morning
On Page 219-220: he plays "Your Song" and you have to tell yourself that you aren't there to fall in love with him
On Page 227: he's the one you want to call when you're going through a rough time
On Page 234: it wouldn't make a difference if you were told not to see him again
On Page 243: even after everything that has happened, you still feel like you want to know more of him
On Page 257: You're "so in love [you] could die"
At this point he's finally admitted it, and I could have stopped but decided to keep going:
On Page 257: you've been falling in love with him for years
On Page 263: you try to tell him you love him
On Page 266-267: for a full week, you go crazy after he ghosts you
On Page 267-270: you fly to a whole other country to confront him and won't leave until he lets you in
On Page 271: you tell him you love him. Twice.
On Page 277: you feel something about him knowing how you like your coffee
On Page 283: you've been thinking about how a relationship with him would work since that first time he kissed you
On Page 291: you refer to him as one of your homes
On Page 302-303: you make a list of things you love about him
On Page 312: you're willing to risk ruining your life for him
On Page 312: you're never gonna love anyone else like you love him
On Page 328: you feel forever about him. and you've known it all along
On Page 344: you love him on purpose
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All the morons trying to claim that Dean wasn't saying anything to Cas because he was holding back slurs or something equally ridiculous... what show have you been watching? Surely not Supernatural. Like, yeah, Dean had some internalized shit for a while (mostly cause of how he was raised, let's be real), but this isn't season fucking one. Dean's in his goddamn forties now guys.
But you still think Dean Winchester is homophobic? Let's examine the evidence then, shall we?
1. Aaron Bass: Dean was flustered because he's not used to being hit on by dudes, but he was completely respectful. And he was alone, too. It wasn't like he was trying to "hide his homophobia" from Sam. He could've said whatever he wanted in that moment without anyone ever knowing, and he chose to awkwardly walk backward and wish Aaron a nice day. Then later, when they're working with him, Dean says nothing about it (other than a quick "he was my gay thing" to Sam), doesn't make it weird, and talks to him exactly the same way he would talk to anyone else.
2. Jesse and Ceasar: Dean's surprised when he realizes that they're married, again because he's not really used to it and so he made the wrong assumptions (which I will point out is really really normal, it happens all the time even between queer people, because heteronormativity is very much a thing in real life). But what does he do when he finds out? He asks them about their marriage - with genuine curiosity. What's it like to be in a relationship with a hunter, is it hard, all that jazz. Never asks about the fact that they're both men, none of those gross "so who's the woman" questions, literally just. Talking to two married hunters. That's it. Then later, when they're working, he never once questions their capability as hunters or suggests that they're weak in any way. There's no "you're less 'manly' because you're gay" mindset at all. And at the end of the episode he's genuinely happy for them, two hunters who managed to get out of the life and retire together.
There's lots of other examples (several male cops have been obviously into him over the years, his reaction to Jody talking about Claire and Kaia, all the subtext surrounding Lee, etc.) but for my last one for now, let's not forget...
3. Charlie fucking Bradbury: Arguably Dean's best friend besides Cas (no I haven't forgotten about Benny, I love Benny, but he was part of a very specific chapter of Dean's life and that chapter is done). We've known she was a lesbian from the get-go, and Dean takes it in stride when he finds out, immediately improvising to coach her through some painfully awkward flirting so she can get into the office ("you've just come home, and Scarlett Johansson is waiting for you"). And yes, there's the whole "I feel dirty" "yeah so do I" bit there, but that's clearly established as a joke, plus the guy was gross - as someone who is attracted to both women and men, I would feel dirty after flirting with him too.
The next few times we see Charlie, she and Dean are geeks and dweebs together, Dean is having more fun than we've seen in years, and we see him be a really good friend - in some ways, a better friend than he is to Cas. Charlie talks to him a little bit about girls, they LARP, they go shopping together, Dean comforts her when she has to let go of her mom. When she's killed, he gets so upset he goes on a murderous rampage (maybe not the most healthy way to deal with greif, but nonetheless showing how much she mattered to him). When he sees an alternate version of her in trouble he's immediately ready to risk his own life to help her even though she doesn't know him. He loved her like a sister, and he never once expressed any issues with her sexuality.
So let's go back to Cas. Cas is in love with Dean. Not much of a surprise there, he's said it before. But this is the first time Dean understands that that's what he's saying. It makes sense that he's a little stunned, especially considering that Cas is also saying that he's about to die. I mean, if your best friend of twelve years told you one day that they've been in love with you all along, that just knowing you has irrevocably changed them for the better, and that also by the way telling you this means they're going to die, mightn't you be rendered a tad speechless?
Dean does not hate Cas for this. Not at all. Because whether or not Dean is bi, whether or not he reciprocates, Cas is still his best friend. We've seen how hard Dean grieves every time Cas dies. We know how much Cas matters to him. Of all the shit they've put each other through, there's absolutely no logical reason for this to be the thing that damages their friendship beyond repair. Not after everything. No fucking way.
Dean says nothing because he doesn't know what to say, because he's still processing Cas's confession but also already grieving and blaming himself for Cas's death. The way he breaks down at the very end of the episode? That's not a man who's disgusted. That's a man who's shattered.
How dare you try to simplify this incredibly complex and emotional moment into Dean being a dick. How dare you. It's positively insulting. The entire point of Cas's speech was that Dean is so much more than that. If you can't see that, than I'm sorry, but you're missing the whole message of the show.
Supernatural is about family and sacrifice. It's about free will, making your own choices. And it's about being more than just who you're supposed to be, going beyond what other people want or assume. All the depth beneath the surface. That's the show. That's why we're still watching after all this time. Because it means something important. Something relevant. Something real.
Don't you fucking discredit that.
(thank you for coming to my TED talk)
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marauderundercover · 3 years ago
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Taking Chances Chapter 9: Heroes and Villains (Discovery)
Prev
AO3
It wasn’t the toughest akuma that they had ever faced. But even with both of them fighting, it took too long. So long that her family was sure to be suspicious. Despite the fact that she just wanted to portal back to the hotel where there would be far fewer questions, she knew she didn’t have that luxury.
“Kaalki, if I ask to go to an empty room in the manor, can you do that? I don’t wanna pop out of nowhere. I’m already dreading the questions we’re gonna get about Adrien disappearing.” Marinette asks the kwami, rolling her eyes at Adrien’s annoyed huff.
“If you had just taken me with you to begin with-”
“To the bathroom? Adrien, I know you’re not the best with social situations but even you know that’s weird, right? And besides, there’s no way Dick would’ve let you follow me. He’s hovered every time we’ve been alone.” Marinette reminds him, crossing her arms.
“We were bonding over humor!” Adrien argues.
“Sure! But I still-”
“Ladybug, I can do it. As entertaining as all of this is, the Wayne family should not be kept waiting.” Kaalki reminds her, a small smirk on their face. Marinette’s eye twitches at the reminder of her family. Okay. One problem at a time.
“Okay. I’m trusting you. Tikki, Kaalki unify. Voyage!” Marinette calls, grabbing Adrien’s hand and stepping through the portal. She glances around the room, frowning as she looks at everything. None of it made sense. It looked kind of what she would imagine from-
“Is this the Batcave?” Adrien asks, mouth wide in shock as he slowly turns in a circle.
“Kaalki, dismount.” Marinette says, glaring at the kwami the second they’re visible again. “Care to explain what’s going on?”
“You asked to go to an empty room in the manor. I simply took you to the most famous room. It truly is a crime that you’ve never been in here before.” Kaalki hums, zipping around the space.
“I’ve only been to the manor twice! And this is in the manor? Does Batman work for Mr. Wayne?” She asks, desperately trying to figure out the situation.
“LB, what if he is Batman?” Adrien asks, making her pale.
“He’d figure me out so quickly. Oh god, what are we gonna do? He’s gonna kick me out of the family and I was just starting to be able to breathe around them and think about the fact that they are my family and now I’m going to go back to being an only child and even though Dick can be annoying and I haven’t really talked a lot to the others I really wanted to get to know them and now I’ll never get the chance because I’m a failed superhero who can’t even defeat one measly villain and he’s gonna take away my Miraculous and then he’s gonna be Ladybug but then it’ll be weird and he’ll hate me even more because red is not his color but he’ll be stuck in red because that’s what Paris is used to for the Ladybug costume and we don’t want them to go into shock when I’m replaced and-”
“Who the fuck are you?” A voice asks, clearly angry. Marinette winces and turns, eyes wide when she notices the actual (REAL) gun in Jason’s hands.
“We’re not meant to be here. There was a mistake with transportation and-” Marinette starts, stumbling over her words as she tries not to panic even more.
“Likely story. Don’t fucking move. I’m calling Batman.” Jason says, glaring at the two before pulling out his phone. “Hey B, there’s a situation in the cave. Intruders. No, I have no fucking clue how they got in here. Yeah, there’s two of them. No, no it’s not them. Yeah well I kinda can’t fucking interrogate them by myself now can I?” There’s a pause. “Yeah no, not wearing that. Yeah thanks for that. Well I didn’t- Just get over here.”
“So is Batman coming?” Adrien asks, the excitement clear on his face. Marinette looks at him in annoyance. She loved the boy but sometimes, he had no sense of self preservation.
“Yeah, Batman’s coming. Why the fuck are you here?” Jason asks, the angry look on his face not matching the personality she had seen every other time she’d seen him.
“Why are we here? Why are you here?” Adrien asks, poking. Jason’s eyes narrow and his glare gets darker.
“We’re here to ask Batman for help with a situation.” Marinette blurts, shifting so that she’s slightly in front of Adrien since he kept saying things that were pissing Jason off. Jason frowns.
“Why do you need help from Batman?” He asks.
“Ladybug, Chat Noir. I’ll admit I didn’t expect to see either of you here.” A gruff voice states, walking towards them. Marinette’s eyes widen. Holy vigilante, that's Batman. And he’s not looking at her as a civilian who could be scared. Nope. Now he’s looking at her as a fellow hero and possible intruder. Oh this should be fun.
“Monsieur Batman. I apologize for our intrusion. I meant to bring us to Gotham, to speak with you, but I must have messed up. I’m truly sorry for appearing in your home like this.” She says, extending her hand for a handshake. Batman glances down at her hand, seeming to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and shaking her hand.
“As long as you are here, we might as well talk about the Paris situation. It has recently come to my attention and I’m concerned about the possibility of death in your city.” Batman says, getting straight to business.
“I’m sorry, what the actual fuck is happening in Paris? And why haven’t I heard anything about it? Actually, why hasn’t anyone heard about a situation in Paris?” Jason asks, actually glaring at Batman.
“It doesn’t concern you, Mr. Todd. You may leave now. We’ll have our meeting another time.” Batman says, his tone firm.
“The hell it doesn’t. My baby sister lives in Paris, and I’d be damned if I left her alone in some kind of hellscape where apparently there’s the possibility of a lot of death. Now can someone tell me what is going on in Paris?” Jason yells, his eyes blazing as he glares at Batman. Marinette blinks at her brother, shocked at his reaction. Did he really care that much?
“It’d probably be easier to show you. Do you mind?” Adrien asks, gesturing to the computer. Batman stiffens.
“I’ll pull it up. I’m sure you’re referring to the videos of previous fights. I have them in a folder.” He says, walking over and hitting several buttons. Before long, a video is pulled up on the gigantic screen. A video of the fight against Syren. Of course he had to choose one of the most dangerous akumas. Instead of watching the screen, Marinette watches her brother’s reactions. Flinching slightly as she hears his knuckles crack from how tightly he’s clenching his fists.
“How long has this been going on?” He asks simply, his voice much darker than she’d ever heard.
“Almost two years.” Marinette responds, frowning at him. She hadn’t known him long, and she knew it would be stupid as Ladybug, but Marinette wanted to hug her older brother. He looked pissed, sure, but underneath the initial anger, she could see the worry. And how unsure he was. She couldn’t be certain that all of the worry was aimed at her or the Paris situation, but she knew at least some of it was. And she felt bad for making him worry like that.
“And where has the Justice League been?” He asks Batman, almost snarling.
“There’s no lasting damage.” Marinette says. “Even if the Justice League had shown up, they couldn’t have done anything that Chat or I couldn’t. My power is to erase the damage, and death, done during our battles. So Monsieur Batman, you don’t have to worry about the possible death either. I assure you both, it’s fine. We could use assistance to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity though.” Marinette says, trying to move the subject away from death and injury and the rougher parts of akuma battles.
“I don’t give a damn if the damage isn’t lasting. You remember, right?” Jason asks. Marinette hesitates.
“Well, yes. But the akumatized victims don’t and-”
“No. See, I don’t care about the akumatized victims right now either. I care about the amount of death and destruction and pain my sister has had to deal with alone. What about the people who die, Ladybug? Do they remember that they died? Do they wake up after drowning or burning or being crushed to death and just be told to be thankful that it wasn’t permanent? Or do they get to forget too?” Jason asks through clenched teeth. Marinette stops, thinking of all the times buildings have fallen on her. The times she's watched friends die. The time Tikki had to take the earrings and Marinette woke up after the battle, still able to feel the metal in her chest. The time she saw a world draped in white, only one other person left in the entire world. She thinks of these times, and she sighs.
"No. They don't forget." She says, biting back the wave of emotion threatening to push her under. She can't. She has to focus. She can't break right now.
"Then I don't care about the rest of Paris. What are you doing to protect Marinette Dupain Cheng?" He asks, crossing his arms and staring her down. She blinks. She gets that he's worried, as her brother, but why would they have special protection for one person? She's about to ask when Batman speaks up instead.
"No worries, Mr. Todd. My team and I have been made aware and have prepared a security detail for Miss Dupain Cheng once she returns to Paris." Batman says simply. Marinette's eyes widen. No. Oh no. No, no, no, she can't be watched! How's she supposed to protect Paris if an American superhero and his team are stalking her to make sure she's safe?
"As a former Miraculous wielder, Marinette is already under our protection." She lies, ignoring the shocked look Adrien is giving her.
"I'm sorry, what? Former- She was a hero?!" Jason yells, the panic clear on his face.
"Yes, but she was compromised so she doesn't work with us anymore." Marinette says, hoping to calm him down. It doesn't work.
"She was compromised! And you abandoned her? What the hell is wrong with you?" He yells as he starts to pace the room.
"Mr. Todd, it might be best if you-" Batman starts, holding his hands up placatingly.
"I don't wanna fucking hear it, B. You might be okay with watching a bunch of kids run around in costumes and have near death experiences but I'm not watching it. Not again. Now whatever this meeting is can wait, because my sister is currently missing and Batman over here needs to go find her. Because we need to wrap her in some goddamned bubble wrap because apparently this family is a fucking trouble magnet. And if you two are going to be in Gotham, then you can go help look for her too." Jason says, turning and starting to storm off. He pauses and turns back to the group of heroes- vigilantes?- "And her friend Adrien. I'm not sure how we'll fund him, stupid magic light thingy. But Marinette's gonna be pissed if she gets back and her boy toy is missing." He turns and actually leaves this time. Marinette turns to Batman and raises an eyebrow. A silent question on what the next step is. Batman frowns.
"As much as I dislike taking orders from civilians, he's right. Mr. Wayne asked my team to look for Miss Dupain Cheng. I assume the two of you will stay to help." He says. Marinette shakes her head.
"Unfortunately, we're going to have to leave. But we'll be in contact." Marinette says with a quick smile before calling Kaalki's transformation and creating a portal. Repeatedly thinking 'unused bedroom in Wayne manor, she steps through without waiting for a response from Batman, tugging Adrien along. Glancing around, she sighs in relief when she realizes the Kwami didn't take them to another secret lair.
"That was intense." Adrien says, dropping his transformation.
"I need extra Camembert after that disaster." Plagg says with a smirk. Marinette drops her transformation, stifling a giggle at the annoyed look on Tikki’s face.
"It wouldn't have been a disaster if you hadn't convinced Kaalki to do that!" She says angrily. Marinette’s previous humor instantly disappears and she turns to Plagg.
"Plagg, what is she talking about?" She asks, glaring at the Kwami.
"Now, pigtails, don't do anything rash, but the Batcave was my idea." He blurts out.
"I take offense to that. I brought them there!" Kaalki exclaims with a pout.
"Yeah, but I'm the one who found out. And told you and Sugar Cube." Plagg counters making Kaalki roll their eyes.
"Oh puhlease, you wouldn't have known what it was if I hadn't followed you." They say, chin high in the air.
"So apparently Batman is looking for us. What're the odds Mr. Wayne is just working for Batman and not actually Batman himself?" Marinette asks, giving Adrien a hopeful look.
"I think they're the same odds that no one in your family will ask questions about where we were." He says with a shrug. Marinette groans.
"I can't believe my dad is Batman." She drops her head into her hands, taking a moment to breathe before a thought pops into her head.
"Do you think my brothers are the rest of them? Oh god. Damian is totally Robin, and Tim is Red Robin. Which would make Jason Red Hood 'cause Nightwing's hair is completely black. Oh my god. I'm in a family of vigilantes!" She groans, huffing in annoyance.
"What's so bad about that? They'll be even more likely to help us find Hawkmoth." Adrien says, still looking on the bright side.
"That's if they let me out of their sight. You heard Jason, and Mr. Wayne. They want to put a security detail on me and they think I'm a civilian! What’re they gonna do when they realize I’m a superhero too?” Marinette moans, various situations running through her head. She takes a few steadying breaths to try and stave off the panic. They won’t find out, right?
---
Jason kicks a chair he walks past, mumbling under his breath. Bruce hadn’t acted surprised or anything, so apparently he already knew about the situation. Knew and didn’t say shit to anyone else. Of course he did. Jason would’ve cared a few days ago, sure he would’ve. But now he cares. Because now his tiny sister is in danger and he’d be damned if he let her go back to Paris without protection. Hell, he’ll go with if he has to. Anything to keep her safe. To stop her from dying. Or, dying again. And apparently she was a hero in Paris at some point. And she was compromised. And then abandoned. What a pile of shit. Huffing in frustration, he resists the urge to run back to the cave and start shooting. Instead he walks towards his room to grab the keys he’d thrown in there earlier when he got to the manor for dinner. Turning the corner, he freezes in shock when he sees Marinette and Adrien standing there, Adrien gently patting her back as she looks close to panicked.
“Marinette!” Jason calls, running towards her and sweeping her up in a big hug. He didn’t want to let her go. If he let her go, she’d go back to Paris. She’d have to deal with a supervillain and death and horrible things. She was too young for that. He, of all people, would know.
“Jay. Can’t breathe. Please.” She chokes out. Jason lets her down, then glares at her.
“Where the hell have you been? I thought you were going to the bathroom?” He asks, frowning as she grows even paler.
“Uh, er, I was?” She says, sounding more like a question. He narrows his eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asks.
“Yes?” She asks, eye twitching. Jason sighs.
“If you don’t wanna tell me Pixie Pop, you don’t have to. But you are gonna have to tell B.” He says.
“Batman?!” She shrieks, eyes wide. Jason shakes his head, panic welling up.
“No, why- B’s what I call Bruce. Why would you think I was talking about Batman?” He asks, gesturing wildly.
“Because that’s what you called Batman on the phone!” She counters, freezing the second the words are out of her mouth.
“Wait, what? When did you-” Jason stops, a horrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. No. She can’t.
“Wait no, I- oh crap.” She mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“You’re Ladybug.” Jason says, his ears ringing as he looks down at his sister. Well fuck.
---
Dick sighs, turning around in a circle as he looks at the closing shops around him. Where could Marinette have gone? Why did she leave? If she was overwhelmed they would have driven her back to her hotel. She didn’t have to try and walk back by herself. Especially this late. And in Gotham of all places. His phone ringing tugged him from his thoughts and he answered without even looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?” He says, trying hard to push down the worry and focus on the phone call.
”Hey Dick. I found them.” Jay says, sounding tired. Dick lets out a sigh of relief.
“Where were they?” He asks.
”In the manor. Look, I think we all need to have a talk. You should probably come home. And grab Replacement and Demon Spawn on the way back.” Jason says. Dick frowns. How were they in the manor? They all looked in the manor, they were not there.
“Okay, yeah. On my way.” Dick says instead. This should be interesting.
---
Marinette tries to ignore the burning stare from Jason as she grips onto Adrien’s hand. This could be a huge mistake, but it could also help them find Hawkmoth. And take him down for good. The idea of that is too great to give up. So no matter how much it makes her want to puke with nerves, she’d tell her family the truth. That she’s Ladybug. She was sure they’d understand, being the infamous Batfamily and everything.
“Sorry about that, Timmy insisted on grabbing some coffee on the way back. Where’s B?” Dick asks, and Marinette winces at the nickname. Why her brothers thought it was a good idea to call Mr. Wayne ‘B’ as both Batman and Bruce Wayne was beyond her. They’d had secret identities much longer (though after today she wasn’t sure how).
“Now that we are all here, could you explain why you insisted on this meeting, Jason?” Mr. Wayne asks, sat in the same chair he’d been in when the evening had first started. Marinette glances around at her siblings, smiling softly back at Cass who seemed to be trying to reassure her without signing or saying anything.
“Marinette is Ladybug.” Jason blurts out, instead of dropping the bomb slowly like they’d discussed. Silence. Just as Mr. Wayne opens his mouth, Marinette blurts out:
“Yeah, well you’re the Batfamily!” Oops.
Next
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sortasirius · 4 years ago
Text
“Unity” and the Broken Boys
BOY Y’ALL BETTER SIT DOWN BECAUSE THIS IS AS LONG AS CAN BE AND I TOOK OFF WORK TOMORROW SO I’VE GOT TIME
This is....one of the best episodes in the show.  Yeah, in all 325 of them, this is hands down one of the best.
First of all, stan Amara for clear skin.
That silent treatment babey, right out the gate with the Angst.  Tbh Dean deserves it.
“Like I said, killing Amara, Jack dying...that’s the only way.”
“The only way.  Our one shot.  Our Last chance.  You ever get tired of saying stuff like that?”
“We don’t have to like it, alright?  But you and me, we gotta get it done.”
Amara is such a welcome energy in this whole episode.  She’s warm and understanding, whip-smart and probably more powerful than Chuck.  I love her.
Sam is a wonderful, understanding, loving dad.  I love him eternally.  He loves Jack so much, he’s trying so desperately to do what’s right for Jack but also what’s right for the world.  Jack made this choice, but he can’t live with it.  How do you support your child when their life is at stake?
“Come on man.  Blindly following orders, lying to Amara, sending her to her death. Does any of this feel right to you??”
“It doesn’t matter how we feel!  You know what?  Stay.  Stay.  Someone has to be the grown up here.”
“Yeah well someone has to keep fighting for Jack!”
“He knows what he signed up for!”
“Last I checked, we don’t give up on family.”
“Jack’s not family.”
Y’all should have heard the noise I made.  What a fucking line.
“I know how you feel about the kid, I care for him too, I do, but he’s not like you.  He’s not like Cas.  He’s just not.”
“I’m- I’m ready.”
You can see the regret, the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes.  You can see how he wants to take those words back the moment he said them, and for Jack to hear them?  It’s unthinkable.
Sam and Cas I’m just so fucking emo dude.
“Sam, you stayed behind to find another way huh?  I woulda done the same.”
AMARA
First of all, LOVE this structure.
Amara and Chuck have such a fascinating dynamic.  Rob and Emily do a great job (as they have all along) by clearly being siblings but...heightened.  You can just tell they both exude power, and the other is the only one they consider an equal.
“You and Dean had that whole weird...thing.”
“That wasn’t you writing?”
“Ugh, not that part.  Gross.”
What I took away from this is what I’ve suspected all along.  They HAVE free will, just not total free will.  Dean and Amara’s connection wasn’t Chuck, there are parts of the story he didn’t write.  Obviously, this comes into play later. 
I also have a hunch that Chuck doesn’t write romance.  I also think that in particular will come into play.
“Balance.  Something we’ve never tried before.  Creation and destruction, light and dark, brother and sister united again, but on behalf of one world, this world.  True balance.  The way it was always meant to be.  But you can’t.  You only care about your pleasure, your story.  Well, I guess that makes you the villain.”
“Villains get all the best lines.”
We see again and again this season, Chuck is irredeemable.  He doesn’t care about the angels, he doesn’t care about the world, he doesn’t care about anything.  He is a petulant toddler who has broken his toys. And when he realizes he’s trapped, he gets angry, he shouts and screams, completely at odds with Amara’s peace.
“You can’t hold me here forever.”
“I can hold you long enough.”
DEAN
Pain is the name of the game in this section homies.  Because not only are we dealing with Dean’s pain, we’re also dealing with Jack’s.  Jack says he understands why Cas and Sam mean more to Dean, but Dean clearly doesn’t, he, once again, wants to say more, but is stopped, still stopped by his fear: his fear of not beating Chuck.
Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals.  Let’s talk about Adam and Seraphina.
Adam.  The first man.  And Seraphina.  The angel.
“My old lady.  She’s the only one who could put up with me all these years.”
Yeah okay.  Volume at 100 I get it lmao.
But also: Adam wants God dead not because he and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, but because he went after their sons.  The theme of protecting the children strikes again.
“Killing God is your plan?”
“Yeah, Billie’s been giving us a hand but Sera and me, this is our baby.”
This juxtaposed directly with Dean’s own pain at what he has to do to kill Chuck, to gain his free will: the cost of his child.
Adam’s rib.
And who else might get his ribs hurt, only to be likely healed by an angel?
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It’s fine, that’s fine.  I’m fine with that.
“Jack, I don’t know how to explain it but, when I found out about Chuck, it’s like I wasn’t alive.  Not really.  You know like my whole life I’ve never been free, but like really free.  But now?  Now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life, without all this crap on our backs.  And that’s, that’s because of you.  So, I want to say, I need to say...thank you, Jack.  Thank you.”
I’m gonna have to do a separate post about just Dean in this episode, because there is so fucking much to talk about, but there are a couple of things that I think are important:  Dean realizes how wrong he was, to say what he said.  He knows that it’s not true, this is the way he’s always coped with loss, by pushing the person to be lost away, but for Jack to hear it?  He can’t stand for that.
And:
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Dean has finally pushed through the barrier.  He won’t be quiet in the face of his doubts anymore.  This is a breakthrough for him, and, of course, there are more to come.
SAM
Sam and Cas, my chaos duo.
The box, the inscription, the door.
Death’s library, filled with dead reapers.
And there it is.  The Empty.
It tells Sam the plan, the plan for Billie to take God’s place.  For everything to go back to the way it’s “supposed to be.”
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This has always been the game, since season 13.  This is the longest of long games.
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Sam fuckin Winchester, lying his way out of a confrontation with the Empty like the legend that he is.
He comes back with a new purpose: to stop Billie’s plan, and here’s where we get to the heart of the episode and maybe the heart of the season.
“You hear that?  Dean, brought to the edge of doubt.  His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end.  And poor Sam, always gotta know everything.  Can’t leave well enough alone.  This is my ending, my real ending.”
The gun comes out, pointed at Sam.
Hmm...what did I say during 15x05?  Oh yeah, this.
And:
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Dean would never survive killing Sam, but he’s willing to do anything, anything to earn his freedom.  His ending, where one brother kills the other and then kill himself.
Why, you might ask, did Sam not mention that the angels would be sent back to Heaven, why does he not mention Cas?  I’ll tell you why, or rather, Becky will.
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Plus, Dean looks back at Cas IMMEDIATELY when Sam says that, when he mentions Eileen, and THAT’S the first time he hesitates.  He can’t lose Cas.  But at the same time, he’s willing to do anything to have his freedom.
“Sam we don’t have a choice, Jack’s about to blow!”
“We always have a choice!”
You know me, just sitting here thinking about choice, the ability to choose, and how that translates to their free will.
And Sam...I don’t think there will ever be characters I love as much as these.
“I don’t care if Billie gets what she wants!  I don’t man, I’d trade it all, I’d trade em all for Chuck.  In a heartbeat!”
“What about me?”
“You’d trade me?”
“Chuck has to die.  He has to!  Otherwise he’ll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can’t live like that man, I can’t live like that, I won’t!”
“I know you feel like that right now, okay? I know you do, but you gotta trust me.  My entire life, you’ve protected me.  From Dad, from Lucifer, from everything.  I didn’t always like it, you know?  But it’s the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on.  It’s the only thing I’ve ever known that was true.  So please, put the gun away.  Just put it away.  We’ll figure it out, Dean, we’ll find another way, you and me.  We always do.”
Okay I feel like this is going to be one of those scenes that I cry watching for years to come.  Because fuck.  After fifteen years they finally admit that not only did Dean protect Sam from Lucifer, but he protected him from John.  John.  On a par with Lucifer.
Dean and Sam have, for so many years, sacrificed themselves for the other.  Dean’s demon deal, Sam and the trials, every season they have fought to see who can die the quickest for the other.  But this?  This is them fighting to stop the violence, to stop from killing the big bad.  This is them growing, in our eyes, in real time.  Sam has always been able to get through to Dean when no one else had a prayer, but for Dean to listen, for Dean to take his words to heart, to stop the hunt for Sam, for their family, that’s how you know they do have free will.
(Btw Chuck’s eye effect when he dusted Amara was sick as fuck but I’m emo for my boys so.)
Chuck knows it’s a loss, he knows that his story has, once again, been thwarted by the boys making their own choices.  And he’s pissed, but in his anger, we get a bomb dropped on us.
“Spare me your contempt Castiel, the self-hating angel of Thursday.  You know what every other version of you did after “gripping him tight and raising him from perdition”?  They did what they were told.  But not you.  Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
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Also, just worth bringing up this one as well:
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Every Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.  Every one told him the same thing.  And yet, immediately, with this Cas and this Dean, something was different.  Because what has everyone seen about Cas, from the moment he met Dean?
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And there’s our endgame people.  Laid out on the line.
But we ain’t done yet, fam.
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We’ve talked about the handprint, but you know:
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So there you have it, our prep into the “monumental” 15x18.  I have spec on that, of course, but I think a novel is long enough for this.
What to take away: Dean’s rage was always Chuck’s plan, they do have free will, their love for each other, for their family, is what will stop Chuck’s control, Death is about to come back with a vengeance, Cas’ deal is at play, and, most importantly, Castiel and Dean Winchester are a blind spot for Chuck, something he has never, not once, controlled.
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akaashisupremacy · 3 years ago
Text
Moments of Courage
Summary: Osamu Miya is a difficult ex to have. When your paths cross endlessly, you try to rebuild your relationship. Will there be second chances? Or just more broken hearts?
HQ Masterlist || Multi-fandom Masterlist || Read it on A03
Osamu Miya  x reader  
“Are you leaving this party because of me?”
Osamu calls you out from the tiny hallway of your friend’s get together. After locking eyes with him, you did your best to subtly scamper towards the door.
“You don’t have to go. I can leave if it’s making you uncomfortable.” he assures.
You shake your head, “You can stay. I’m not having that much fun.”
You begin shuffling through the coat rack to look for yours. You’re desperate for anything to cut the time talking to him, talking about him. The only guaranteed way for this to stop is to leave.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asks almost rhetorically. His brows are gently raised.
“Yeah, obviously,” you retort, “I don’t want to be seen by you or with you.”
Osamu Miya is your ex. After over a year of dating, he decided to end things with you in a small cafe far off his onigiri stall.
“I’m too busy,” he claimed, “You deserve someone who could give you more time.”
You reasoned out that you didn’t mind not spending so much time together. His job was time-consuming. You understood that.
But Osamu was unsettled. You didn’t mind cheering him on from the benches waiting for him to finish up work. You liked seeing Osamu do things he was passionate about. And yet he felt unsettled, because he knew this was the type of work you would not engage in.
Osamu pressed on, “I’m sure you’ll find yourself someone more worldly, more sophisticated in the city. I don’t want to prevent you from meeting someone like that.”
Something dropped at the pit of your stomach. Your mouth was ajar. He’s really trying to break up with you. It’s no secret that you preferred the city and Osamu the countryside, but neither of you seemed to mind. You’d both make the time to visit each other. You made it work.
You remember barely touching your drink. Listening to him talk was like having a ton of bricks dropped on your back. The sunlight pouring in from the glass window suddenly felt prickly.
“I just don’t think we’re a good fit.” he swallowed, unable to look you in the eye, “I think someone from the country, someone simpler and more traditional would be better for me.”
You don’t miss the yearning in his voice, the dreaminess for someone who was clearly not you. He’d always tease that you were a true blue big city girl. You liked the tall buildings, the noise and the fancy department stores. You thought it was a point of endearment, but apparently not.
It’s been almost a year since you last saw him. He looks so unaffected it irks you.
“I broke up with you respectfully. Why are you mad?” he scratches his head.
It takes all your self-control to not slap him across the face.
“Because you hurt me! You’ve hurt me so…so…much.” your voice hitches before you can catch it. This is so humiliating. He’s clearly moved on from you.
Tears start pouring down your face. You quickly hide your eyes behind your coat.
“You’d eventually realize that I’m not right for you.” he murmurs, “We’re too different.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.” you snap, clenching your fists, “So is this is it? To make you feel better you’re going to date a small town girl to solve all your problems.”
“Well, Kita did introduce me to someone lately.” he unironically replies, “She works in her family ryokan (inn) and we work similar hours. I think we’ll understand each other more than we did.”
Your eyes narrow.
“There’s no point staying in a relationship that I can’t make time for. Why can’t you understand that?” he snaps back.
It is one thing to be left for someone else and another for him to dump you just because. Somehow you feel like you lost even if you didn’t even have competition. He simply didn’t want you.
Your face contorts into an angry frown.
You slip on your coat and grab the door. “Man, you are a terrible ex. Do you know how it hurts when you tell me how wrong I was for you?”
When Osamu regains his cool, he tries to reach out to you, “I didn’t mean it that way…I didn’t feel good that I could make time for ‘ya and so I let the relationship go. Because i don’t know…—“
“Well, this is all just theory anyways.” he says, “I haven’t met Kita’s friend yet. We haven’t gone out yet, just the two of us.”
You do a double turn. “What?!?”
“Yeah, we’re working all the time but we haven’t made the time to meet.”
You break into a laugh. He stands stunned and confused.
“You know what? You stay behind. You left the last time. I want to be the one to leave this time.” you sigh, closing the door behind you.
You don’t turn back to see the look on his face.
————————————— Osamu mostly works in the countryside which means that you’d be less likely to run into each other in the city. It’s easier for you to keep your mind off him and focus on your current life.
So when you see him in the corner store in place of a small fried chicken stall you used to frequent, you’re visibly shocked, appalled even.
“What are you doing here?!” you jump back, “What happened to the fried chicken stall that was here?”
Osamu looks left and right, making sure no approaching customers can hear your dialogue.
“I run this stall now. Kawaneshi-san retired. It’s a great location. I’m literally in a crossroad between a shopping district and some schools. The rent isn’t too bad and it’s a very busy location.” he answers in his usual no nonsense tone.
You make a mental list not to pass by here again.
He recognizes the look on your face, “Have I just ruined your usual route for you?”
“I thought you were a country boy.” you avoid answering him.
“Even I need to make a living.” he snorts, carefully arranging umeboshi-flavored onigiri in his display case.
Sure! All of a sudden working in the city becomes important after he breaks up with you!
You roll your eyes and curtly walk away. You got here first. You love this city. You refuse to let some onigiri-making man ruin your everyday route.
The days roll into weeks. You stick to your route and diligently ignore Osamu each time. After a while it stops feeling weird that he’s there. You feel like you’re slowly taking pieces of yourself that he broke.
It feels so good to start to be whole again.
———————————— Your newfound peace with Osamu is interrupted when he calls you out of the blue one evening. He calls to tell you that he’s sick and that he needs help running groceries. The nerve!
“Don’t you have anyone else?” you groan. Hasn’t he made friends with some other shopkeepers?
“I have no one else. There’s only you.” he coughs through his words. He tries to explain that one of his few friends is out on bereavement.
You let it go. He clearly doesn’t have anyone for today.
You find out that Osamu lives in the apartment above his stall. The space is rather small. He shares his home with some of the equipment and supplies from his store.
He must hate it here. Osamu always loved wide open spaces.
You open the fridge to find it totally empty. His sink has a few empty bowls from his earlier rice porridges. You understand his desperation. He had nothing to eat.
Moved by his situation and the little compassion for him that remains in you, you sigh and begin chopping up some vegetables to make a nutritious broth. You add in some mushrooms and root crops. While the soup boils, you prepare rice and some pickles.
The faster he recovers, the less you have to interact with him.
When you bring him a tray of food in his room, he is equal parts surprised and confused.
“You can cook?” he clears his throat.
“No, Osamu.” you roll your eyes, “I eat all my food raw.”
He sits up and sniffs the aroma of your food through his clogged nose. He dips a spoon into the soup to sample his first meal of the day.
“I mean you can cook well, like a proper home cook.” he says, his eyes wide with awe. He quickly takes a few more sips and starts on his rice.
“I’ve never known.” he croaks, turning to you.
“You never asked,” you shrug, “And you like to do the cooking yourself. You probably assumed I can’t cook, because I’m not as passionate about food as you are.”
He quietly eats and looks away to confirm the truth in your statement.
You sigh and take a nearby basin with some towels in it. “I’ll leave after I bring the basin back.”
——————————————- Something changes in your relationship with Osamu after that incident. He starts to greet you when you walk by and sometimes offers you onigiri from his store.
You always insist on paying. He doesn’t always take it.
“You’re here to make a living.” you say as you push money into his hands.
In between these exchanges you start to ask about each other again. How are you doing? Was today busy? Stuff like that.
Slowly and surely, you two were rebuilding your relationship ground up. But it was tough. Neither of you went beyond these interactions. Maybe things are just meant to stay that way.
One late evening, the last customer for the day disappears out of Osamu’s line of sight when he heads into the back to start cleaning up. He’s about to start pulling down the rafters when you suddenly show up at his counter.
His face expresses his surprise.
“If it’s too late, I can just go.” you gesture sheepishly.
He’s always surprised when you come here on your own volition.
“It’s not,” he denies, “I was closing up too early anyways.”
You pick out your usual onigiri flavors and quickly pay up. As soon as you turn your back, Osamu stammers at you.
“I-I’m cooking up some stuff at the back. Do you want to stay and eat? Think of it as a return favor for the other week.” he refers to the episode of his sick day.
You’re caught off guard but you slowly nod your head to agree. You hadn’t had Osamu’s cooking in a while and it was getting quite late. He opens the door for you and you follow him towards the back of his shop.
In a messy plastic table, you see an array of salads and pickles with different kinds of miso soup laid out. You feel almost intrusive, even more than last week.
You set the table. Osamu fetches hot rice.
It feels unnecessary for you to be here especially if he is with someone else. You do your best to keep your mouth shut. This is a friendly return of favor.
Osamu notices how unusually quiet you are. He chats you up about work. He tries his best to be animated and show interest in your latest project. He asks about your coworkers and your work environment. Were you having fun? Do you get to eat on time?
For dessert, he brings out mochi wrapped in leaves.
“It’s made by the girl I was telling you about.” he remarks, while clearing the dishes.
“Oh,” your heart sinks. You get up and leave, feeling humiliated by your naivety. Of course he’s with her. You feel stupid for even hoping.
You’re about to walk out when he comes back in. “Apparently, she’s been secretly in a relationship with another chef in her family inn. They recently got married and are hoping to start a family soon. She sent these down to inform me. I suppose that solves the problem of having to see someone outside of work—”
He sees you standing. Confusion runs through his expression.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just stretching…” you lie.
You want to shoot yourself in the foot in embarrassment.
When realization dawns on him, Osamu looks crestfallen. Any energy left in his body abandons him. He sighs, resigned.
“It’s ok if you want to go,” he nods, “Or if I’m making you uncomfortable.”
He bites his lip and looks down on his shoes. The room is still and pregnant with silence.
“I really am just stretching. My hip feels wonky from sitting all day.” you insist with some renewed energy. You grab hold of the pot on the table. “Also, can we get some more hot water? Tea would be nice with the mochi and it’s kind of gone cold.”
He offers to make another pot, relief evident on his face.
“I’ll go heat up the water.” he walks to the kettle, “Are you sure you want dessert?”
You sit back down.
“Yeah, I want to stay.” you murmur. For once you don’t go running to the door.
He glances at you, content, a small smile creeping on his face. ——————————————————
Atsumu, Osamu’s twin brother, always finds himself in his brother’s kitchen every time he visits. He doesn’t mind too much though. It gives them something to do when they catch up.
“Samu, you can’t still be moping around your ex!” Atsumu exclaims. He’s washing Osamu’s dishes as his brother prepares for their meal.
“I’m not ready to get back out there.” Osamu waves dismissively.
Atsumu flicks some water his way. “You’re just not open to seeing someone else.”
His words clearly prick Osamu who throws flour into his face. Atsumu dodges right on time and flicks some flour right back.
Some flour grazes Osamu’s sleeve. He sighs and dusts himself.
“It’s tough, because I’m working all the time. This job doesn’t pay too much and it’s not glamorous. Who’d wanna date someone like me?” he murmurs.
“That’s why you gotta date around to find out!” Atsumu emphasizes, “Maybe you’ll even find someone who might help you with your business when you get married.”
Osamu obstinately shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as you think.”
Atsumu dries his hand and carefully observes his brother. He puts his towel down onto the kitchen counter and raises his brow, “Or maybe I should just give you advice on getting back together.’
As if right on cue, Osamu slams his hand down onto the counter, “I hate that we still haven’t gotten back together. This is killing me!”
Atsumu chuckles in satisfaction. He’s hit the nail right on the head.
“Why has nothing happened yet? I’m already in the city!” Osamu continues on, “They can cook too! Did you know that?! I wish we can skip to the part where we can settle down.”
He vigorously gestures in frustration.
“I cannot! I just cannot move on until I know I’ve given everything to make this work and yet every time I see them all I do is offer them food!”
Atsumu places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “You need to be more strategic about it. Here’s what you need to do…”
———————————————————————————
Osamu takes a deep breath before knocking at your door. He holds a bag of onigiri in one hand and whatever courage he has in another.
One knock, then another. He hasn’t been this nervous in a long while.
When you open the door, his ear picks up on a male voice inside your house. Combined with your expression, he realizes that he’s come at an inconvenient time.
“I brought you something.” he tries to smile despite the sweat pooling, “I made you lunch. I just wanted to make sure you were eating. We don’t have to talk. I just wanted to give this to you.”
He tries to look past your shoulder, attempting to glimpse at your guests.
“Are you seeing someone else by any chance?” he blurts out, “I want to clarify before I make any more free deliveries.”
You frown. “That’s none of your business, Osamu. You should leave.”
Your frankness pierces something within him. He hadn’t expected to be rejected so quickly.
Osamu’s eyes widen and his mouth drops. He quickly gathers himself before he gets disheartened.
“I want you to give me a second chance. You loved me so deeply. Maybe you can find love in me again.” he says quietly.
“I thought I was too much of a city girl for you,” you retort, despite lacking an edge in your voice. You notice his hands tightly clutching the plastic bag.
The noise at the back seems to melt away. It’s like you’re back in that party, standing too close to each other near the coat rack and the door.
“Maybe you’re not.” his shoulders gracefully go up and down.
You shook your head wryly, “Osamu, I haven’t changed. I like my job and the city. I’m not the life and business partner that you’re looking for. I’m just a customer and we should keep it that way.”
“I can stop if you like.” he offers meekly, putting his hands behind his back.
“Yeah, you should. You’ve hurt me so much.” you cover your mouth with your hands while you try not to sob, “There’s nothing to go back to.”
“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did.” he looks away, “Seeing you walk by me every day feels like penitence…“
You close the door before he says anymore.
Osamu gazes longingly at the door. It’s only now that the full weight of losing you sinks in.
—————————————— “How’d it go?” Atsumu calls to check on Osamu.
Osamu sucks in his breath, his palm pressed on his temple. Atsumu braces himself, this doesn’t sound good.
“They had someone else over.” Osamu is seething in frustration and angry tears.
“Calm down. Were they alone? Or was it a friend group?” Atsumu ’s mind races. He sifts through the situation in an attempt to placate his brother.
“Yeah? No? I don’t know.” Osamu snaps, “They told me she didn’t want to talk about it. Your advice sucks!”
Osamu walks most of the way home. When he catches sight of his store, he curses. He had left his damn bike at your apartment complex! The universe is not giving him any breaks today.
He sighs and continues towards his store. He had a friend watch it while he was away. He’ll have to come pick up after he closes the store.
Throughout the rest of the day, he tries to push you out of his mind. By the time he closes the store, he is bursting at the seams with anticipation to make his way back to your apartment.
Before he sets off, he sees your figure wheeling his bike towards him.
“You left your bike.” you breathe out. You fish something out of your pocket and toss him the key to his bike lock, “You left this in your lock too.”
“Every time you see me, I just look dumber and dumber.” he sighs in exasperation.
You can’t help but burst into laughter at his candidness. He perks up a bit. He hasn’t made you laugh in a while. Of course he’d rather have you laugh with him than at him. Still, this was a start right?
"Did Atsumu put you up to this?" you chuckle, handing the bike over.
“Yeah, how did you know?” he asks dumbfounded.
“I just do.” you scoff, “It’s not like you to show up on people’s doors.”
He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness.”
Your eyes lower, framing the sad expression that sets into your face, “Yeah, it better not. I’ve moved on.”
You turn around to walk away. In a brief moment of courage, he cups his hands around his mouth.
“I’m not ready to move on from you and if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” he calls out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar​
Comment or message to be added to the taglist! I’m definitely making a part 2!
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somnambulants · 3 years ago
Text
make me your future
summary: set during black widow. Yelena walks into a bar. A bar you happen to work in.  word count: 1.6K
“Do you believe in love at first sight?”
Groaning internally, you roll your eyes at the line, not even bothering to look up at the person who’d said it.
Who even uses pickup lines anymore? Seriously?
“Not in the slightest.”
You continue to clean glasses behind the bar. Lining them up neatly one by one. Whoever it is, they can wait.
You’ve been working at this bar for about a year and a half since you’d moved to the city. It’s a decent job. Not what you’d pick if you had a choice, but you don’t hate it.
You have your favorite customers, too. Some of the regulars. The old man who shows you photos of his grandkids while nursing a beer. The woman with the fixed business-like expression who gives you an exorbitantly large tip every-time you bring her a glass of the already crazy expensive red wine she drinks.
Perks of working in a moderately upscale establishment known for it’s discretion for under the table, not strictly legal activities means you’re fortunate that the majority of your customers are nice and quiet and stay to themselves.
Well, usually anyway.
Clearly not everyone had gotten the memo.
“Weird,” the person doesn’t seem to sense the hostility in your voice, sliding onto the bar stool in front of you. You can detect a faint accent as they continue, more flirtatiously: “Me neither. Well...not until I saw you, at least.”
Raising an eyebrow at their boldness, you finally look up, ready to give them a piece of your mind and promptly lose the words that were forming on the tip of your tongue.
The woman in front of you is your type; so your type that your type doesn’t even describe how much of your type she is.
“Does that ever work on anyone?” You finally force out. You don’t know why you’re saying it; clearly it works. It’s working on you right now.
The woman shrugs. “I wouldn’t know,” she says, propping her elbows onto the table to rest her chin in her hands and looking at you intently. “Never tried it before. Is it working?”
Heat flushes up your neck under her gaze as you scramble for something to say. “Can I -- Can i get you anything?”
Her voice turns playful: “Your number?”
Twisting your lips to hide your smile at that, you also duck your head a little. “I meant anything to drink?”
“Oh,” she frowns a little, thinking. She doesn’t look offended by your clear diversion. “Water, I guess?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” You can’t help yourself from asking as you slide a glass of water across the bar to her.
Her accent is puzzling to say the least. You’d say slavic of some kind for sure but she has hints of almost American inflections every now and then on some of her words.
It’s intriguing.
She gives you another smile, leaning in closer. “Visiting family,” she confirms. “My sister and her partner just moved here with their kids. She’s a science teacher.”
“That’s sweet of you to visit,” you say. “You must be close.”
She shrugs, taping her brightly painted nails along the rim of her glass. “We were as kids. Now not so much but we just reconnected recently.”
As she takes another sip of her water, you let your eyes linger on her face.
There’d been something about her words as she’d said them. Something that makes you think that her story isn’t as truthful as she’s making it out to be. Or maybe not at all.
Just a hunch of yours.
A lot of the patrons had stories like this they’d recount for you when you’d asked about anything even slightly personal - before you’d learned not to ask; stories that sounded like they could be true but more than likely weren’t.
Or weren’t the whole truth, anyway.
This bar was well known amongst those who needed to know that this was the place to go if you wanted to lay low. Or pretend to be someone else.
“And thankfully for me I came to visit,” she adds after downing the water, getting that playful glint in her eyes again as they snap back to your own. “Because here you are.”
You can’t help but laugh this time. She’s just so effervescently charming without even trying. “Yep. Here I am.”
You continue talking for what feels like only minutes but must be much longer; just about random stuff. The woman is surprisingly easy to talk to and adept at steering conversations to the point that you end up on the most obscure topics more than once.
When you look at the clock at some point, you’re almost blown away to see half your shift has gone by just talking to this woman whose name you don’t even know.
As if sensing where your thoughts have gone, she introduces herself. “I’m Yelena.”
“Y/N.”
The woman -- Yelena -- chuckles. Not unkindly. More like she thinks what you’ve said is amusing for some reason. “I know,” she says and you frown a little until you see her eyes on your name tag, which is pinned to the front of your shirt. 
 “Oh,” you say, a little embarrassed. “Right.”
As you turn your head, trying to hide the flush you’re assuming is creeping up your neck, you also notice the line of people in front of you that must have accumulated as you’d become distracted by her.
You groan. “Ill be right back.”
You serve faster than you’ve ever served. Practically throwing the drinks at all the patrons in your haste to get back to her in worry that she’ll get bored and leave eventually.
When you finally make your way through all of them and turn around, you find her seat still occupied and her in the same spot as before. Your heart does a backflip in relief.
“Sorry,” you say breathlessly as soon as you’re back in front of her, not really sure why you’re saying it, only sure that you are really sorry you’d had to leave her side. 
Yelena waves a hand, unbothered as she tilts her head towards you. “It’s fine. You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know?”
You freeze, not knowing how to react. “I  --”
This time, she outright laughs at your reaction, which leaves you no doubt looking even more flustered than before. Her eyes glowing with almost-childlike glee as she grins at you teasingly. “See? Cute.”
“Oh yes,” a voice drawls. You turn, only to find the voice belongs to a weirdly familiar looking red head, who is eyeing you up and down with an unreadable look on her face. “Just... adorable.”
“This is Natasha,” Yelena says, looking between you both. “My... sister. The...science teacher.”
Oh. 
So the sister is in fact real. And the sister is also looking at you with a knowing look in her eyes. 
She most definitely doesn’t look like a science teacher. You’re sure science teachers probably don’t walk around clad all in leather. Or look like they could snap you in half. At least none of the ones you’d ever had.
You’re also pretty sure that science teachers don’t also double up as members of the avengers, but you don’t say anything to that fact.
You do however recognise the black widow as soon as you see her. She’s pretty unmistakable, after all. 
“Oh,” you say. “Can I get you a drink?”
As you ask, you pretend you don’t see the tail ends of the way Natasha is mouthing the words: science teacher? to her with clear quizzicality. Or Yelena’s clearly unbothered shrug in response.
Natasha inclines her head at your words. “No. Thank you. I think we better get going, actually. Yelena?”
Yelena’s lips form into a pout. “Already?”
Heart sinking down to the soles of your feet, you pretend to fiddle around behind the bar as they seem to have a silent argument with their eyes in front of you.
It ends with Yelena rolling her eyes with a little huff. Reaching into her pocket to grab a couple of bills and stuff them into your tip jar, she gives you one last smile. Her smile is so infectious that you’re helpless to do anything but smile back, trapped under her spell. 
You don’t know how she managed to do it but in the tiny amount of time you’d spent around her, she’d had you almost convinced that love at first sight was a thing. 
And that you were it’s next victim. 
And because of that, you’d never forgive yourself for what happens next. You’re distracted for a brief moment, pulled away to serve another customer as they both continue to converse silently and then when you turn back around, they’re both gone.
No sign of Yelena. Or her sister. It’s like they’d vanished into thin air.
You scan the room multiple times but come up empty.
She’s gone.
--
(You lose hope pretty quickly that she’s ever going to come back. A week goes by. Then another. And another.
Nothing.
Months pass by with nothing and slowly, you start to forget you ever met her. Well, not quite; you never get out of the habit of looking at the door at work every now and then hopefully but you stop expecting anything after a while.  
Until one day it changes.
You’re in the middle of serving someone and just as you hand them their drink, you hear a voice you’d assumed you’d never hear again come from behind you.  
“So...do you believe in love at first sight yet?”
You turn around so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash.
There she is.
It’s definitely her. She looks a little different, her hair a little longer. But it’s definitely her. That smile is hers.
You grin back at her.
“Go out and come back in and i’ll tell you.”)
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malereader-inserts · 4 years ago
Text
Chamber of Reflection
Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: Oh dearest Sherlock, are you ready to move on? Word Count: 2,329 Warning: Blood and Death
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“I don’t believe in love.”
You scoff out a laughter before turning to look at them, your smile dropped as you looked at them incredulously, “You’re kidding me right?”
“No?” They questioned back as if it was totally obvious because that’s how they were as a person, “I just don’t believe in love.”
“Impossible,” You shake your head, “Everyone believes in love, you, you’re different. You believe you don’t deserve love. That’s a whole different thing.”
Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Same thing.”
“Absolutely not, Sherlock,” You folded your arms over your chest, “Your mother loves you, that’s family love. John loves you, that’s platonic love. I love you.”
“What type of love is that?”
“Figure it out, smartass.”
He never really figured it out.
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Sherlock was smart, but he’s dumb at the same time. 
He could rattle your ear off with different topics that he was interested in. He could give you a rundown about who you are and he probably knew you better than you knew yourself. But, give him a topic on a basic thing - he’ll malfunction. 
“The planets? Sherlock, surely you couldn’t have deleted that out your head.”
“You underestimate me, (Y/n).”
“Clearly,” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes, “But, I know you didn’t bring me here to talk about what basic stuff you’ve decided to ignore or have deleted from your so-called hardware.”
“At least you’re able to keep up with me,” Sherlock comments as you give yourself a little nod to the side as acknowledgement.
“Well, what is it?”
“Talk to me more about love, please.”
You narrow your eye at him, tilting your head to the side for a second, you were suspicious of his intention before sighing and tending to his question - after all, it is rare to have Sherlock say please, it’s not an opportunity to pass up.
“How desperate must you be for this information as you did say please.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“Alright,” you had your hands up in defence, “Well, love is different to each person and I can’t really help you that much Sherlock because it’s a learning process and it’ll be brutal. In a...somewhat good way.”
“That doesn’t explain anything at all!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “When you love someone, you just kinda know.”
“Right.”
“And...”
“Well, spit it out.”
You give him a soft smile, almost as if you knew something he didn’t know. Like you had to bit your tongue and refuse to tell him. He looks at your eyes, there is a glint of sadness, though he doesn’t comment on it as he allows you to speak.
“Love is going to ruin you someday, it doesn't matter if you don't believe in love, it doesn't matter if you think that you don't have the capacity to love someone, nothing matters. What matter is that one day you will fall in love and fall so hard that it will ruin you to the point that you will not be able to think correctly, to the point that your illness and cure both will be the love of your life, love will ruin you to the point you will look for sanity in insanity.”
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“Back again so soon, Sherlock?”
He doesn’t answer you as he stands across from where you had claimed as your spot, you tilt your head in confusion at his silence, Sherlock loves to talk so why isn’t he talking. 
“Must be a rough day then, ay Sherlock?” You continue to talk, “I don’t blame you, having a fight with your best friend and then your brother being annoying as ever - Mycroft just doesn’t shut up.”
“How do you know about my day, this is the first time I’ve seen you this week?” Sherlock questions.
You knitted your eyebrows together, your lips pursed together, as you give him room to think before interrupting.
“When will you come to the terms that you’re the one who killed me?”
At that moment, Sherlock stops. If a record of music was playing then it did the scratching halt. Sherlock looks over to your way, he didn’t realise that at some point he had stopped looking at you, you sat there with your arms crossed over your chest.
“You’re not dead.”
“Not in your mind palace, Sherlock,” You say, you look at your surrounding, “In here, I’m very much...alive.”
“You’re not dead,” Sherlock stammers out, blinking frantically, “You’re here, in front of me.”
You dismissed his words, “Funny, each time you come to talk to me, we’re in the same room you killed me in. I have to give you props, though, you really have memorised the room I died.”
“It was your house.”
“Yeah!” You snapped your finger and pointed to him, “You remembered, I’m slightly touched.”
“You can’t be dead.”
“And we’re back to denial,” You hummed, sitting comfortably on the edge of the sink, “Look around you Sherlock, you’re just blocking and deleting things out.”
“No, I am not.”
“Look at the blood, Sherlock.”
Your voice was firm as he shuts his eyes, hoping you had calm down because he could clearly hear anger behind the words you spat. Sherlock opens his eyes and there, he saw the full picture. 
You sat on the sink of the kitchen, behind you were the windows and adjacent to your head was cabinets. Both were painted with the splatter of blood. He looked at your appearance, there was red upon your hands and your clothes...
Your clothes, every time he had visited you, you were still in the same clothes - he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to you about it, he knows from you and John that pointing stuff out can be offensive. 
Your clothes, they were drenched in blood - your blood. 
“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock, look at me.”
Sherlock doesn’t want to, he wants to rearrange the whole scenario and pretend that everything was rainbows and happy, yet he looked at you. He stared deep into your eyes and had to stop himself from gagging at the scene.
There was a bullet hole at your forehead, dried blood seems to drip from the wound when it was fresh. 
“Don’t you remember Sherlock?” You asked, looking at him, “You killed, but at what cost?”
“I-”
“I mean, I know why you killed me, after all, I’m just living in your head so I get to know about what you’re thinking and all. But, I really want to hear it from your own mouth.”
Sherlock felt like he was stuck in this nightmare because essentially he was, he couldn’t just snap back into reality or wake up from his sleep. He felt like you had restraints on him and he’s unable to breakthrough.
“I killed you...” He murmurs as you lean forward, “I killed you because I loved you.”
You chuckled, softly, “Love, it makes you do real crazy things.”
See, Sherlock kept you in his head because you were important to him. You were his first and only love, you and Sherlock have known each other since primary school. You had been his only friend, even if he kept pushing you away. 
You were the only one who could keep up with his smarts and his weird little thinking, but you were by his side - his first best friend. The man he loved. When the two of you got into high school, you and him were often seen together. You humanised Sherlock, back then he understood what it means to feel.
He was human back then, not this sociopathic man that he grew up to be. Sherlock loved you, just like you loved him. Even if you never really said anything out loud, he knew that you loved him with the way you grabbed him by his wrist and leading him away, it was the soft smile, gentle looks and caring words. 
He wished he was able to spend a little longer being your boyfriend because you two managed fess up your feelings when you were eighteen. You were about to go to University, away from Sherlock. He wished he had mustered the courage to ask you to be his boyfriend years before.
“Sherlock, I’m not mad that you killed me.”
Sherlock snapped back into his room with you, you looked at him with the same caring eyes he grew up with, he tilts his head in confusion, he’s missing something in this memory - did he block it out or did he deleted it forever?
“They would have killed me anyway, I don’t have a life further than this Sherlock, both you and I know this,” He listens to your tender voice carefully, you’re no longer angry at him just angry that Sherlock refuses to move on, “You and I did it, Sherlock, you framed the murder perfectly on them.”
Them.
Who was them?
Sherlock looks at you before he hurled himself into the memory.
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“You’re bleeding!”
“I’m quite aware of that Sherlock!”
Sherlock stands by the doorway of the kitchen, it’s messy as you sat on the sink, lifting your shirt to see the wound. You cringed, even Sherlock couldn’t remember what had happened to make you look like this and losing blood rapidly.
“You’re being remarkably calm about this.”
“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen,” You say, pulling your shirt down and you looking at your boyfriend.
“We need to take you to the hospital.”
“Absolutely not, Sherlock, if they found out I went there. They’ll kill me!”
“They’ll kill you either way!” Sherlock pressed on, “Please, there must be some other way.” 
“You kill me,” You said almost immediately, you looked at him with sharp eyes.
“No, (Y/n), no, are you an idiot?” Sherlock hissed at you, “There is another way, we just have to think about it.”
“We don’t have time to think, Sherlock,” You admitted, “They kill me, they’ll hind the evidence and go live another day, free, do you want that for me?”
“Of course not!” Sherlock was offended that you would suggest that, “I can prove that they kill you, I can do it - you can trust me.”
“I trust you, Sher,” You say, desperate and lovingly, “But, wouldn’t it be better to frame them?”
Sherlock stood there, weighing out the pros and cons in your thinking. Perhaps it was clouded, his judgement as he sees you point out a gun on the kitchen table and reminding him to use a glove so they don’t pick up any of his fingerprints. 
What was going through Sherlock’s mind? He wouldn’t be able to tell you, because when he aimed the gun at you there was no thought behind his eyes. You swallowed nervously.
“Hey, Sherlock?”
“Yes?”
“Just know I love you, and I will never hold it against you.” 
“I know.”
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“Sherlock?” He looks back at you, “Oh, good, you’re responsive.”
“I never said I love you.”
“Oh, Sherlock,” you laughed, he pretends that it didn’t slightly hurt him, “You think I didn’t know?”
Sherlock looked down then back up at you, you were back in clean clothes and the surrounding of your kitchen was clean. Though, you didn’t look phased. 
“I mean-”
You raised an eyebrow, “You did at least frame them right? My parents?”
Sherlock knitted his eyebrows, “No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Sherlock looks at you, watches you breathe in and out, there was a clear disappointment and you had stopped intensely watching him. You turn to look back at him, he was surprised to see you smile at him as you clapped your hand.
“Well, I’m not going to shy away from saying that I am disappointed, perhaps that’s why you blocked out the memory,” You spoke, crossing your arms.
“I can fix it!”
“Can you?”
“I made a name for myself, (Y/n), Mycroft can help me as well as Craig-”
“Greg-”
“Whatever, and we can finally bring you justice, maybe you could be at peace.”
“It’s not me that I’m concern for peace, Sherlock, you’re the one who keeps me alive in your mind palace,” You admitted as you lay down the reality of Sherlock, “It’s time to let me go. The question is: Are you ready?”
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Mycroft comes knocking at the door, he was greeted by John.
“Sherlock is busy,” John says from his armchair as Mycroft enters without a proper invite. 
Mycroft looks around the room before stopping at the bookshelves, a picture frame that was permanently situated as face down was now standing, showing the picture that was kept hidden from the world.
Mycroft makes his way towards it as John looks at him.
“Sherlock put it up yesterday, along with a new case.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Mycroft leered, softly smiling to himself, “What’s the case about?”
“The murder of (Y/n) (L/n), Sherlock is convinced that it wasn’t suicide, though I don’t know how he knows about the case, that was closed over a decade ago - at least that’s was Lestrade said.”
“Watson, do you know who is standing next to Sherlock in this picture?”
John looked at the picture, he could recognise Sherlock when he was younger. he still had the curls and bright blue eyes, standing straight up, next to him was a boy smiling and had his arm over the sociopath’s shoulder - though back then, you could hardly call Sherlock a sociopath.
“No?”
“That is (Y/n) (L/n),” Mycroft says as John’s eyebrow raised up, “He is the reason why Sherlock snapped and changed in his behaviour. His death caused Sherlock to lose his pathway.”
“He means a lot to Sherlock?”
“Well, he is the only person Sherlock truly love romantically. Perhaps the first and love of Sherlock.”
“Sherlock loved him?”
“He still does, it’s why he’s reopening this case because dear Watson, between us two and Sherlock. This is not a case to solve a murder, this is to frame someone of murder and we’re going to help him.”
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