#because his facial expressions kill me every time without fail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blackbat05 · 2 years

Text

Fresh Start

Rick Flag x Reader

A/N: I haven’t wrote Rick in a long time! So I hope you enjoy! And to also celebrate 1 year release of TSS. Issa little long though😝

Genre: PG-13

Notes: Idc, Rick is alive in my world😬 Language.

He was a volunteer at the Children’s Home you were working at. Despite his intimidating aura, the children saw him as a big, cuddly teddy bear.

Your female colleagues didn’t waste a second as they hungrily eyed every inch of his six foot three sculpted figure as he walked in every Friday evening to the delight of the kids.

However, they could only do so much. So like the warm hearted (and slightly annoying) colleagues you had found two years ago, everyone tried their best to get you closer with him.

But you couldn’t. It was simply unethical. Sure, he was a walking Adonis but no way you were going to loose your job because you couldn’t control yourself. Besides, you weren’t even sure if he even had any feelings for you.

“What are you still doing here girl?” Myra, the receptionist, stared at you through the glass panels of the front desk. You try to reason with her that you still had a couple of paperwork to finish before calling it a week. Needless to say, she wasn’t having any of it.

“You ain’t even paid extra! Leave it for another day- ah ah ah!” She waves a slender hand in your face. “I don’t want to hear any of it! Go enjoy yourself! Besides, Rick looks like he’s waiting for you to knock off.” Myra gives a wink before sauntering off to the dormitories.

Guts twisting in your stomach, you walked over as normally as you could, giving a quick wave. “Hey stranger!”

Rick turns, and upon seeing you, he breaks out into a grin. “Hey! Finally! Thought you were working overtime again.” You thought he had emphasized on the last word a little longer than usual, making you feel bad.

“I guess I decided to give myself a break.” You shrugged. “What’s keeping you here so late?”

Rick’s facial expression changed, and you wondered to yourself if you had yet messed up again. He seemed to have sense your discomfort, so he chimes in quickly.

“Oh! Well, work’s been really busy and I don’t think I’ll be able to see the children regularly so… it’s my last day here.”

You weren’t even sure why your heart had dropped inside your chest, but you maintained your poker face.

“Damn… the children will miss you…” You held back on the rest of the words that you truly wanted to tell him.

“How about a farewell dinner? It’s on me.”

Six Months Later,

You exit the counseling room, reminding the children at the playground that dinner was in an hour.

Arriving at your cubicle, you slumped on your chair, done for the day. The paperwork was absolutely driving you nuts and you wished you could be out there playing the children.

In the end, you decided to settle with your phone, scrolling through the various apps and news that you saved for times like these.

You click on a tag, pressing the first video you see. It was the local news, reporting about one of the many atrocities of the government. This time, it was about the infamous Suicide Squad that you only heard in name.

Taking a deep sigh, you see a familiar face beside the newscaster. Rick Flag. Or should you say - Colonel Rick Flag. Commander of Task Force X, missing in action since the battle of Jotumheim.

There were rumors spreading like wildfire around the internet. Some said that the government ordered him to be killed to keep their secrets. Some said that he tried to go rogue. Some said he betrayed his country.

You? You had no idea how to process this influx of information. You only knew him as the friendly and handsome volunteer who spent his time with children every week without fail. What else was he hiding from you?

“So, where are you going?”

“I’m not too sure yet. South America maybe.”

“Keep in touch?”

“Of course.”

A flurry of movement into the office startled you from your thoughts. A trio of older girls ran towards you, voices merging into one.

“Woah, slow down and one at a time!” You instructed them, concerned at the reddish hue on their cheeks.

“Miss! He’s here! He’s at the door and he’s hurt!”

Hurt? Your brows knit in confusion, starting to get more concerned by the minute. Was there an attack nearby and someone came to seek help? You stand up quickly, moving to the cabinets where the first aid kit was kept.

Instructing the girls to move everyone else indoors, you went to check the cameras at the back room.

No way. No fucking way. All that overtime must have made you see things.

Although the camera showed a black and white image of whatever was outside the home, that hunched figure was unmistakable. You could recognize him from a mile away.

Sprinting to the doors, you almost break the handles, flinging them open to see an exhausted Rick Flag standing at the doorstep.

“Hey darlin,” the southern drawl hit your ears like honey. “Still working overtime again?”

You blink your eyes, feet rooted to the ground. Apparently it seemed like eternity as the man in front of you lifts his arms forward.

“So no hug?”

You marched forward, hands flying up to give him a huge smack on the back.

“OW! What the hell?” Rick grimaces. You were surprised that a large man like him could still feel pain. “What was that for?”

He almost regrets it instantly as more whacks start to rain on his large frame. For someone who worked with children, you definitely had a lot of pent up anger.

“You! You left so suddenly! The next thing I know? YOU DIED?! In some… foreign place because you tried to sell out the government and what have you not?” You started to lose energy, so you resort to dragging him in by the arms, attracting stares from stragglers who were going back to the dormitories.

You managed to find the sick bay at the end of the corridor. Locking the door, you ordered him to lie down, whipping out any first aid supplies you could get your hands on.

"Shirt off."

"If you wanted me to strip, there are other ways to do it you know?" Rick quickly puts on a face of what he thinks to be innocence as he's met with your glare.

This wasn't your first rodeo with injuries - you couldn't count the number of times you had to patch up injured children who got bruises from playfights or accidents on the playground. But what was in front of you just wasn't a simple scratch.

"Rick, what the hell?" You gasped softly.

You were greeted by a mixture of bruises, scars, and burns that littered his back. Most were old wounds but you could see some that were still fresh.

The next few minutes passed in silence as you dabbed each wound with cotton buds, mumbling in apology whenever he winced in pain.

“So… permission to talk?”

You remain silent and Rick takes it for a yes. “Look… I’m sorry that I kept all this from you. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t. And I’m not saying this just to appease you darlin…” Rick struggles to find the right words.

“They experimented on children.” He says abruptly. Rick sees the shock on your face. “It’s true. I saw them. The government funded them, allowed these atrocities to continue… but I couldn’t… and I almost died for it. Well, I did die.”

He then proceeds to tell you about the altercation with Peacemaker in the underground facility. Him being shanked with a rusty pipe and being left to bleed out. Rick says that maybe it was for the best that the survivors left him in Corto Maltese.

“Means that Waller won’t longer be on my back. It means I’m finally free.”

You finish cleaning up the last bit of his wounds. Putting the first aid kit aside, you stand in front of him, gently tilting his chin to meet your gaze.

He takes your hand, relishing the warmth that it provided against his cheek. You finally hug him tight, eyes squeezed shut.

This wasn’t a dream.

“Don’t cry, I’m here.”

You use your free hand to feel the wetness on your cheek. “I’m just afraid that I’ll return back to the nightmare of living without you again.” Breaking into full sobs, you slumped onto the side of the bed, Rick’s arms wrapped around yours.

“When I heard the news about you… I regret every day not telling you how I felt… I couldn’t live with myself!”

A wet chuckle could be heard and you see Rick’s watery eyes. “Took you long enough.”

You pause at his statement before the two of you break into laughter. A knock on the door brings you back to the present.

“Is it true?” A young girl with pigtails pokes her head in, flashing a gummy grin. “Mister Flag’s back!”

The sight of Rick was an answer itself. With a shrill cry of joy, the young girl calls a couple of friends in the hallway. Before you knew it, you see Rick smothered in the little bodies that were desperate to welcome back an old friend.

“Miss! Is Rick staying? Can he stay? Pleaseee!!!” The group of children plead to you in unison.

“Well… I was going to ask if you guys had a spare room here.” Rick mutters. “Practically non-existent now and it’ll be great if I have a temporary place to stay while I set everything in order.”

“Now that you mentioned it, I do have a room.” You smiled cheekily, moving forward so that Rick was within earshot.

“It’s just right across my office.”

Three Years later,

“I swear! It’s right here!” Harley drags the rag tag group along with her, before coming to a stop in front of a house surrounded by a white picket fence.

“Harls, you sure you weren’t I dunno- hallucinating?” Robert DuBois grumbles as Cleo struggles to keep up with the duo.

“You betcha! I saw Flag right at the garden with all the little munchkins and hey! He’s got a lady with him too!”

Despite the assassin’s skepticism surrounding Flag’s lookalike, a small part of Robert wished that Harley was telling him the truth. What had happened to Flag… let’s just say no good man deserves his fate.

“Oh my god.” Cleo gasps softly beside him. “Harley was right.”

Robert cannot believe what he is seeing. There he was - his old comrade and former commander of Task Force X.

A scruffy Rick, donned in a long sleeved checkered sweater and jeans as he chases two children across the garden that also served as the dumping ground for their toys. He manages to sweep the little boy into his arms, blowing raspberries on his tummies much to his delight.

“Hahahaha! Papa! Stoppp!!! It tickles!!!”

Robert could see the splitting image of Rick in the little boy who was squirming around in his friend’s arms.

A pang of guilt hits him. No, he will not destroy Rick’s happiness. Not when they left him there to die.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait! Can’t we say hi to Flag?”

Before Robert can rebuke Harley’s request, a tiny figure interrupts the trio.

“Papa! There strangers here! A lady with weird hair!” The girl whom Robert assumes is the twin of the boy yells to get her father’s attention.

“Hey! My hair’s not weird!” Harley frowns.

“DuBois? Harls? Cleo?”

Robert grimaces internally. This was a bad idea. He turns around to see Rick’s guiding a pregnant you steadily across the garden.

“You must be Robert.” You finally reach them, extending a hand for the man to shake. “My husband’s told me so much about you. All of you.”

“Only good things I hope!” Harley quips and suddenly Robert doesn’t want to hear your response.

“Only the best.” You reaffirmed. “How you looked out for him. And I’m very thankful for that.”

Rick approaches Robert, clasping him on the back. “Can’t believe it. I’m glad to see all of you again. Glad y’all made it out alive. Out of Waller’s clutches.”

The latter can’t find the words in him to apologize, so he settles for a “can’t say the same for you”. Like an old friend, Rick catches him immediately.

“Hey, none of that. I didn’t even know I could make it out alive. What matters is that you’re here.”

Breaking the silence, you decided to chime in. “You guys must have come a long way. We would love for all of you to stay. I’m sure the kids would love you.”

The two women squeal, agreeing enthusiastically to your request. While Harley races up the steps to the house, Cleo guides you carefully, beckoning Robert to follow.

“Come on DuBois, she’s right. You’re more than welcome.” Rick pipes up. The two men trudge up the stairs that lead into the picturesque home.

As the three misfits slowly made themselves at home, you waddled towards Rick who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I know they did… wrong things. But I can’t help but to think that we’re finally free of Waller.” Rick heaves a sigh of relief, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Maybe it’s a new beginning. For all of you.” Leaning into him, your heart softens at the sight of your little boy being mesmerized by Cleo’s pet rat, Sebastian.

A new beginning. A fresh start.

Rick could definitely get use to the new normal.

Can be read as continuation: Mismatched Family

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #the suicide squad #dad rick flag x reader #joel kinnaman #rick flag x reader fluff

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artzee-bee · 3 years

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End of all things [2] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: MIraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir)

Request:”Hello good evening, could you please do where a witch!Reader who always tries to comfort Chat/Adrian when he is feeling down. Cuz you know in season 4 I noticed he’s getting sadder and sadder. The reader doesn’t like to get involved in all these weird happenings and just lay low. Whenever Chat/Adrian comes to the reader’s house they always make him feel at home. That's when things go off, at the final battle where Hawkmoth got the Miraculouses and the heroes thought they would lose. (Y/n) just landed in front of them looking so done with Hawkmoth.Hawkmoth thinks that (y/n) was just a weakling, but he was wrong. (Y/n) is far stronger than Hawkmoth even he will use the all Miraculouses he’ll still lose.”

Genre: Angst

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: It is incredibly late right now, I hope this piece makes sense and that you like it! It was a cool request, but complicated for sure :))

Part 1

~~~

You could have sworn that time stopped altogether at that moment. Somehow, even though the disappointment of having lost and the worry you felt for your best friend, you found a little power to look at Hawkmoth. You expected him to be joyful, restless! You expected him to have already put on both the miraculouses and yet, they were resting in his palm. His eyes weren’t even on them.

“Adrien?” he looked at the broken boy on the ground

“We’re not over yet!” he yelled, running towards Hawkmoth as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter how much will to fight he had anymore! Adrien’s body was going numb. It was giving up on him. And Hawkmoth was gaining more power and energy with every second that went by. The villain grabbed the boy by the shoulder, immobilizing him to his chest, the same way you had done with Marinette

“You are weak and powerless without your ring, boy. Stop it at once!”

“No!” the desperation in his voice made your heart crumble

You felt Marinette stir in your hold. You knew she must have been awake and watching by now, but you didn’t let go. You had been unable to protect Chat from losing his powers, from wasting his energy by squirming in the arms of the enemy. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to Ladybug now! Because even if this was the end, even if they’d never get their powers back, Marinette and Adrien will always be Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Tears fell from your face as you watched your friend kick and scream in fear and frustration. His hair was sticking to his forehead with beads of sweat

You weren’t sure what you could read within Hawkmoth’s facial expression, but you could tell it wasn’t the confidence from a minute ago. Neither the focus. You could still do something! Under your breath, you began to mutter a chant. You had never tried this specific spell before, but there was nothing left to lose. It was supposed to attract an object of your choosing, to you. Focusing on the image of the miraculouses, held captive in Hawkmoth’s iron grip, you prayed it’d work.

“I don’t want to have to kill you Adrien!” finally, the boy managed to escape and take a few steps back

“What do you care? Just a moment ago you would have done anything it took to get rid of me and Marinette!”

Hawkmoth turned around to face you almost instantly, noticing the movement of your lips.

“Stop that!”

You saw his fist tighten and shake slightly. His fear was all the motivation you needed! Your chants grew louder and louder, more confident and powerful. Hawkmoth placed both his hands around the jewelry in an attempt to prevent it from reaching you. Finally, there was a chance you could still win this!

And then there was a hand on your mouth.

And a kick on the inside of your knee.

You fell to the ground in pain, as the person behind you pushed you harder against the concrete. Right then, was the first time you heard Marinette say anything that day.

“Rena?” her voice broken with despair

“I've never akumatized a hero before” you heard Hawkmoth’s taunting laugh “Can you imagine the possibilities Y/N?”

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Rena was forcing you to the ground with all her force. You heard Adrien call out your name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You had to find a way out of this but exhaustion was catching up to you quickly. You weren’t used to fights! You weren’t used to such powerful spells within such a short period of time!

With all the strength in your body, you focused again on an imaginary spot, in the middle of it all. You closed your eyes and imagined the ball of energy growing bigger and bigger, somewhere between you and Hawkmoth. Winds picked up speed around you. You opened your eyes slightly, and all you could see was Marinette’s horrified look, but you didn’t care. Not anymore. As long as you were still conscious, the fight would go on. The ball of energy went off again, creating the same bomb effect as in the beginning of the fight. Rena flew off of you, allowing you to move just in time to see Hawkmoth fly into a tree, and drop not only the black cat and ladybug miraculouses, but the butterfly one as well.

It seemed like the magic brooch had come undone from the impact. All 3 jewels fell to the ground and Hawkmoth was swallowed by a purple light. As the detransformation came to an end, all that was left was an unconscious Gabriel Agreste

“Dad?” Adrien’s voice felt like a punch in the heart. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. His eyes turned almost red and he took off running after his father, but you were faster and caught up to him before he could reach Gabriel. You tackled him to the ground to prevent him from waking up the villain and possibly causing more chaos.

“Wait, Adrien, we need the miraculouses!”

“No, what I need is to talk to my DAD!”

“Adrien please!” you could barely manage to keep him from squirming underneath you

“Of course” Marinette replied slowly before holding out her hand. You let go of Adrien, but he didn’t get up. He just placed his right hand on top of Marinette’s, as she carefully slipped the ring on his finger, back where it belonged.

You heard rapid footsteps come your way and saw Marinette run towards the miraculouses, picking all of them in her hand and hugging them to her chest.You couldn’t even imagine the relief she must have felt! She looked like finally, everything in the world was right again. It gave you hope! Adrien visibly relaxed as he watched her too.

“Can I have Plagg back?” he sobbed

Plagg flew out, looking sacred and in distress, but he tried to smile for his boy.

“I’m sorry Plagg.'' the kwami didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nuzzle himself in the crook of Adrien’s neck, in a hug. The boy placed his hand on top of him and began to sob quietly. Your heart sank at the sight and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall on top of Adrien again and wrapping him in another hug. You could hear every beat of his heart and every sorrowful tear rolling down his cheeks. The noise was so loud, you almost didn’t hear Marinette transform back into her heroine self.

You opened your eyes to see her tying up Gabriel, alongside Rena. She gave you a nod, letting you know they got it from here.

“Adrien?” Gabriel whispered slowly. It seemed like he had finally woken up. The boy beneath you slowly raised his head to meet the glance of his dad. Immediately, he pushed you off in order to run to him

“Father. It’s ok! It’s gonna be ok! It’s a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Adrien ran to him, hopefulness in his voice like he didn’t know he was merely kidding himself

“I did it for a good cause Adrien…”

“No...you didn’t” he insisted

“One day you’ll understand”

Adrien stepped away from the weak body of his father, suddenly horrified at the realisation that Hawkmoth was, indeed, no one other than his own dad. He turned around to see you and Plagg still on the ground where he left you. Tears were quickly making their way back into his eyes as he rushed to you, throwing himself into your open arms. Ladybug picked Gabriel up, and dragged him away, with Rena right on her tail.

Adrien’s cries were muffled by your hair, but his words were still audible, at least to you

“He was my father! All this time”

“I failed everyone”

“No you didn’t Adrien”

“You didn’t know”

“I let myself be vulnerable and gave him the opportunity to take away my miraculous! I could have lost Plagg forever! I let Ladybug down! She lost her earrings and got akumatized and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Stop Adrien. It’s ok. It’s all gonna be ok” you tightened your grip around his body “eventually…”

#adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #chat noir #chat noir x reader #chat noir imagine #chat noir angst #mlb #mlb x reader #miraculous ladybug

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myrulia · 3 years

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omg hi >_<

i just saw your prompt event, congrats on the 600, you deserve more <3

could i possibly get 14? whatever genre you want, go all out, thank you so much :)

.｡.:*✧Prompt 14: "I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Yandere themes, abduction, shibari

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I'm just accepting one follower at a time, 600 is still a lot!

Every night, he would follow you.

Every night, he would put you out of harm's way from the shadows.

Every night, he desired you dearly.

Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Moon One, has harbored feelings for you since he first saw you in your village one night, you walking without a care in the world despite other worldly creatures such as himself having the advantage. You were a human as well, so it was naturally wrong for a demon to develop feelings for the one thing he eats, no?

Of course, the demon has taken this into consideration, but each time he thinks of your face, a nostalgic wave hits him hard in the head, causing his senses to be knocked off for just a bit. Due to you being the cause of this, he wanted to get to the bottom of it as much as possible.

This proved to be rather difficult.

Over time, the more he tried to figure out reasons as to why he felt this way when he saw your face, and everytime he would come in dangerous proximity with you, his feelings developed more and more to a feral lust of love. Love for you.

The day he found out about this was the day he was just a few feet away from you. Him being in a dark alley, and you walking down the pathway beside it. He got such a picture perfect view of your face and the warming smell of your scent that his addiction to you in general grew even more.

Kokushibou is indeed an honest man and will not deny that he has feelings for you, so now in that same realization, he also believes that you belong to him for those reasons.

He had watched over you so much and protected you without you knowing knowing he felt a sense of entitlement to having you - after all, he did do all of this when he is a man-eating creature bound to the night. He immediately thought that these sacrifices he made towards his goal was all the reason that he should achieve it.

The days that he spent without you near him made the male grow restless in his own skin as his mind wavered to you each and every time he tried to meditate for peace and resolve, but this also failed.

So without a second thought, tonight was the night that he would make you his, whether there were others there or not, his goal shall be achieved.

He traveled swiftly so that the mission he set his eyes on since the beginning would finally come to an end before the sun rose, giving him a limited amount of hours of leisure time. So with that, it only motivates Kokushibou to move faster.

Before he knew it he found himself in the same alleyway where he got the first full glimpse of your face, giving him that same warm - almost human like feeling within his undead heart. Just like before, as if the moment was replaying all over again, there you were walking down the same path, yet this time, you stopped.

You stopped and stared.

Kokushibou expected a scream of terror, but instead he was met with your dumbfounded expression.

`` Who are you? ``

You asked with such gentleness, moving closer towards the mysterious figure who was just as dumbfounded as you were, but something inside his nervous system edged him forward, his hand raising to touch you.

`` Who are you talking to, [Y/N]-san? ``

Before the demon could process his next choice of actions, his own body betrayed him by pulling you into the alleyway with him and into his chest. Your face only grew in more confusion, but a large hand covered your mouth before you could give voice to the situation.

`` [Y/N]-san? [Y/N]-sannn?? ``

The stranger's voice called out, but with no response, the human simply turned around in the opposite direction and went about their night as if nothing happened. Pulling his hand away slowly as said person leaves, Kokushibou turns his head and tilts his chin down to get a better look at your state, only to find you staring at his facial features with such enticement and curiosity in your eyes.

Seeing you in such ways sent the demon's feelings in disarray once more. It was as if he was in the past again, because standing before him, from over 400 years ago, was his former human wife. He looked around, lost in his own memory before your voice called out to him, bringing him from the small flashback.

`` Sir, do I know yo- hey wait! ``

Suddenly you were thrown over Kokushibou's shoulder and felt the chilled wind on your face as you moved with such speed out of the village that you were left utterly astonished. Yes, you did know that demons exist and their natural diet is humans, but something told you this one was different - and you were always raised to trust your judgement.

Although curiosity does kill the cat.

`` Where are you taking me? Who are you and why are you abducting me?! ``

`` We will be home soon. ``

That was all that came from the demon's lips, and just like that you found yourself in a massive building with rooms and staircases coming from every direction. Your eyes tripled in size, being truly taken aback by your new surroundings and how it seemed impossible to be true.

Kokushibou opened a door to a certain room in what he knew was the Infinity Fortress, setting you down on your bottom - but being quick in his moments he tied you up with a specific type of shibari you have not seen before. It was the type you had seen samurai use in the books provided by your caregivers, but the one before you looked nothing of the samurai you saw in your books.

The thing before you was unmistakably a demon.

A man eating-demon that now had you as its prey.

Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, doubting your judgement and kind spirit from the very beginning and even allowing yourself to become so easy of a target. You pushed yourself by your feet until your back hit a wall, skin trembling in fear at what your future holds. Kokushibou merely took slow strides in your direction, kneeling down and using his index finger to lift your chin up so he could examine your face better.

`` It is no mistake, you are meant to be here, my love from so long ago. ``

You jerked your head back, lips trembling to get any sort of words out, but as you got a visible view of the demon's fangs, worry set in your bones.

`` I have no cl..clue what you speak of, but we have not met before. ``

Kokushibou tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, moving so that his much bigger form was looming over your own.

`` You in this time period may not remember, but you from the past does. You have always been mine, and this has sealed it. Our fates tie together, my dear. ``

You had no idea what the man before you spoke of, but you too felt a nostalgic feeling as he grew closer and closer, although the fear that latched onto your nervous system would not let go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand touched your cheek, your gazes never daring to tear away from each other. With your hands tied it was not like you could escape so easily, as well as your legs being tied together so that you could not run either. You were helpless and out of control of your situation, tears pricking your eyes at this fact.

`` I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time. We will now be together again, my love, and nothing can change that. ``

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#kokushibou #kny kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer kokushibou #kny yandere #demon slayer yandere #cw: yandere #yandere Kokushibou #☆Myrulia Lyric Prompts

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Request: Grief Always Lifts (Volturi x Reader)

You didn't expect to be sent away from the Cullen's. You were quickly chastised, never to look at it as being sent away, rather putting you in the care of someone else for your benefit. Losing a parent was never easy and it didn't need to be said that you were struggling. You went on day by day, the simple mundane things reminding you of your father and in turn, your loss. Carlisle and Esme thought it best you had a break from America. Somewhere new to really work through your emotions. The last place you thought they'd send you is to the Volturi.

Sure, Italy was nothing like you were used to but the coven they said would care for you isn't entirely the caring type. You weren't even sure as to what made them agree to having you in their care but you had no doubt Aro probably latched onto the possibility of rekindling his friendship with Carlisle. Regardless, you agreed. A symptom of your grief that they had noticed. You weren't entirely present, agreeing to be convenient and not having a particular want for anything. Carlisle and Esme insisted that if you weren't comfortable, you didn't have to go but you left reassuring them you'd be fine.

Marcus recognised the look in your eyes, beyond the exhaustion and blank stare your emotions were loud and clear to him. You felt so much pain that with some irony, you looked to be dead. As though the loss had killed you. However such a statement couldn't be further from the truth. You were very much alive, nearly drowning in whatever was going on in your mind.

The three leaders welcomed you and made sure you knew the higher ranking guards names. Anyone you came across was introduced. Many matching your own blank expression take away the exhaustion that hung over you like a blanket since a few days after your fathers funeral.

Demetri and Felix were the ones who took you to your room. You took in the room before turning to the two guards. "Thank you for all of your help." Your voice was as monotone as the minute you had arrived. Although your facial expressions were at bare minimum. You didn't blink very much and it gave off the illusion that your face was trying and very much failing to emote and keep up with your words. Demetri nodded once and the two took their leave, letting you settle in.

"They look like they haven't slept in days." Felix said quietly. "Apparently they have been sleeping, that's just how they are currently." Demetri responded. Felix looked perplexed. "They were sent to us for a reason Felix. The Cullen's wouldn't have asked us if they weren't desperate." Demetri said. "Sure, it's just odd to see them so lifeless." Felix replied. Demetri nodded. "Seeing them like this in comparison to how we last saw them is very strange. Even the twins seemed to be caught off guard."

"Is the room to your liking?" You looked over your shoulder to see Caius approaching you. "It's great." You responded. "Thank you so much, I don't think I've ever stayed somewhere to extravagant before." Caius cracked a smile. "We have expensive tastes here. I imagine that isn't the only thing you have noticed though." "You're right. The decor isn't exactly modern yet you still have the random TV, electricity and such. I think what I'm trying to say is that it's a perfect combination of old decor and convenient modern day technology." Caius hummed. "That is good. I can't say many of us use most of the modern equipment, although it has its uses every now and then. Such as warm water for you." It was your turn to crack a smile. It was nice they remembered the little details. "I've never had a room with a balcony. Not had one with such an amazing view either." You could see out to the ocean beyond the cliffs, the sun setting creating a cool breeze. "Yes, it is very beautiful. My wife adores the view. She doesn't see the buildings as much from the tower but she sees the sun rise and set. That's enough for her, she says." Caius said looking in the direction of the setting sun. You noticed Caius was never this talkative with anyone, never mind a human. It had gone from polite pleasantries to a conversation and you weren't sure what to make of it. "We must ask something of you, (Y/N). A few things actually." "Okay...I mean, it makes sense since you're letting me stay here." "We only ask that you do not leave your room when we are feeding. A guard will tell you when we are going to feed and when you can leave. At most you'd be in for an hour. We must also ask for your phone. You are more than free to make calls using the phone at reception but due to all of the things mobile phones can do, we must insist." You nodded. "Sure, that's reasonable." You dug into your pocket for your phone before handing it over. "Oh wait, can I turn it off first?" Caius looked down at the device in his hand. "I believe that would be best because I don't know what I'm looking at with these things." You cracked a smile, holding down the power button. "There." "Thank you." Caius nodded.

They noticed that you slept, a lot. Sure they were told between 8-12 hours is enough but they let you sleep a little longer in case of jet lag or time differences. That was until it became apparent that these were no longer an issue. It couldn't have been healthy. It was no surprise to anyone when Demetri and the twins opened your door to find you asleep. They already knew that of course, as did the rest of the castle. You were tucked into the covers, your face buried into your pillow, only the top of your back being visible to them. It would have been amusing or even adorable at the time, if it wasn't very concerning.

Demetri crouched at your bedside. "(Y/N), it's time to wake up." Demetri said softly. You shifted before shaking your head. "Come on, darling. You'll sleep the day away." "Let me." Was the quiet grumble you responded with. This was confirmation that you weren't in high spirits today. Demetri rubbed at your arm that was under the covers. "We can't let you do that, darling. We'll be more than satisfied if you get out of bed and get changed. It'll make a lot of difference." "No, it won't." There was a whimper in your voice that time. Your grip on the covers tightening, your knuckles going white. "It doesn't bring him back. It doesn't make the day any easier because he's gone." Demetri moved closer. "I dreamt about him." You said, a sob breaking through. Demetri rubbed your back as you sobbed. Anyone with a sliver of empathy would have found it difficult to watch. Demetri had no doubt that he seemed like a villain to you right now. Asking almost the impossible but it was better for you. Not to mention, the leaders had already decided that this couldn't continue. "I know you're suffering right now sweetheart." Demetri rubbed back again soothingly. Demetri looked to the twins, nodding to them. A silent message to relay what had happened here to the leaders, to confirm the distress they could likely hear. "One step at a time. This is all you have to do today. In fact," Demetri paused, looking around the room. "why not get changed into those softer clothes you have. The ones you say are more comfier like your night clothes. Can you do that?" It took a lot of coaxing but you caved, doing exactly that.

A couple of more days passed and you seemed to just cry your way through them. Aro was the first to approach the matter. "I know that this all feels like an ending but you may find that-" Your gaze shot up to Aro's like a deer in headlights, feeling tears build up once more. "Aro, I don't think I'm ready to hear this right now." You managed out in a whisper. The only way the words would leave your mouth. "I thought I'd have my sister with me forever." Aro told you with a sad smile. "We were many years apart but she was my sister. We may not have grown up together but we were going to make up for that...with forever. One day that changed. I lost her. I won't lie to you, I will always remember that pain, and I'll still feel it every now and then but with time, it isn't so raw. It doesn't consume you as it does when it's fresh." You dropped your gaze from his once more, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "This feels like a pain that will never go away." "It lifts every day, my love." Aro responded. "Loss creates wounds and sometimes they scar but that's alright." Aro nodded.

A tear ran down your cheek as you bit back a sob. Aro's words were actually comforting. It validated your feelings, telling you that you could feel that way whilst not undermining or dismissing it as something to be ignored as it would go away. Furthermore, it was a meeting point to help you understand that the pain you felt wasn't going to drown you, no matter how deep the pain went. It would get easier and you wouldn't forget.

A day passed and it was possibly the most draining day you had yet. You felt tears constantly. Sometimes they fell yet it was for no reason, they'd leave as quickly as they arrived without explanation. Therefore you couldn't give any explanation to the Volturi. You were somewhat reluctant to see Marcus when he asked for you but you also knew you weren't in any position to refuse.

You found the door was open as you entered. The room only illuminated by the fire to the right of the room and surrounded by two couches that looked old and exceptionally expensive- a dark brown wooden frame with padding covered with a rich red fabric. You quietly sighed to yourself the moment your eyes landed on Marcus. His back was turned to you, a very old, large book holding his attention. Or so you thought. "I know your pain, child." He said as you moved towards the fireplace, your arms crossed over chest. "I'm sorry for your loss." You grumbled. Marcus turned to look at you before moving towards you. He gestured for you to sit in the seat behind you. As you did, he sat down opposite you. "I'm more concerned about yours." He responded. "We find ways to cope with loss. You have lost your way whilst trying to find yours." "I'm fine if that's what you're asking." You said. "I'm not asking. I know how you are feeling, (Y/N). I know not what you are thinking." Marcus replied. "You could always ask Aro. He's seen inside my head-." "Aro's sight is nothing to me in this case." Marcus interrupted. "It's meaningless. Hearing it from you gives it meaning." "You want me to talk about it." You said flatly. Marcus said nothing but looked at you expectantly which had confirmed your suspicions. You looked away, contemplating if you should. You came to the conclusion that it wouldn't hurt. "I can't really figure out where I've to go from here, in life. I've never had to live without him." You answered. "You go on, little one. There is no direction. No one is pointed in the correct direction. At the end of the day, you go there yourself. With everyday, you go on and that's exactly what you're supposed to do." He responded. "When someone puts their all into you, their love, their effort, their time, they grow a bond to you that can never be broken, not really. It's always there. So when someone loves you so much...it's never goodbye." Marcus continued. "The truth is...losing someone is never easy. It changes you and it changes your life but it's never more important to remember that life goes on and people will miss you when you're no longer around. I know you well enough to know you'd want your loved ones to carry on. That's what is being asked of you now." Hearing Marcus' perspective was actually important to you in hindsight, seeing as he endured such a painful loss that still haunted him to this day. It meant he understood the feeling of something missing in your life. He knew that better than anyone. Although much like Aro's advice it was difficult to put into practice.

Four days passed and you were fed up of the grief and the constant tears for the tiniest thing. When Caius wanted to see you, you couldn't help but think that he was going to lecture you. Tell you to get over yourself like you had told yourself time and time again. So when you met him on the balcony, you asked. "I suppose you're going to tell me to toughen up right?" You asked Caius. Caius turned his head to look at you, instead of the ocean view. "Is that what you need to hear?" Slowly you shook your head. "So what would be the point?" He asked and you shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just thinking about everything he wanted from me. If my time with him was enough." Caius hummed. "A parents wish is to never outlive their children. They raise you wanting you to be better than they could ever be and live your life as much as you can. Even more so, enjoy it. Be safe and happy, free of doubt." Caius continued. "He got so many years of your life and I bet if you asked him...he wouldn't give up even a moment of the time he had with you. I'd say your father did a wonderful job raising you." "Was it enough though? Was it enough to make him proud and continue believing in me?" Caius cracked a small smile. "I think your father couldn't be more proud of you every day he walked this earth and if there is life beyond the living, he's just as proud." "How do you know? That I made him proud?" You asked after a moment of silence. "Simply because I am proud of you and not only are you not my child...but I am also very difficult to please." Caius responded with ease. You had to swallow hard against the lump in your throat. "Everyone in this castle, every vampire no matter the rank has outlived their parents. Although you may be surprised to know that many among us, had their own children that they have since outlived. All of different ages, from the old to the young. Every single one would tell you the pain of outliving their children was much worse." Caius assured you. Your eyes narrowed. "is that supposed to make me feel bad for my feelings?" You wouldn't have expected any less of him. Caius hummed in amusement. "Not at all, it's something to consider that your father wouldn't have had it any other way." Caius responded.

You weren't sure when things had changed but the grief wasn't so heavy on you. So much so, you got out of bed at a decent time, got changed and came down for breakfast. Felix checked in on you as soon as it was evident you were awake but left you to get ready for the day in peace. After breakfast you found both Felix and Demetri in one of the living rooms watching TV.

You had gotten closer to the two over time. Demetri went out if his way to make sure you were looked after and Felix tried to be something of a friend or even a distraction as he tried to include you in almost everything.

"Well look who's here!" He grinned. "Come and pick us a movie. You've got good taste as we've learned." Felix patted the empty seat next to him. "No, I need to sit on that side of you- that's my good side." You said. "If I need to have your magnified gaze on me it should at least be on my good side." Felix paused, a small smile growing on his face. You couldn't help but giggle at his expression. "I'm sorry? You're good side? What does that mean?" He said through chuckles. "Is this a human thing I don't know about? You have sides to you now?" "No!" You started but began giggling hysterically. "Listen, I need to know how many sides you have. Is this like personalities? Which side came down to breakfast this morning?" Felix continued and you laughed even more. "Or is it an angel and devil kind of thing? Did you leave your bad side upstairs, sitting in the sink? Which is another conversation all together by the way." "No!" You laughed. Felix turned to Demetri. "I was sent to check on them Demetri, do you know where I found them? Sitting in the sink! When did humans ever do that!?" "It was to get closer to the mirror!" You cried out in your defence. "To check on your good side by any chance?" Felix responded. You had doubled over so much in laughter and uncontrollable coughing Felix looked at you quizzically. "Breathe, (Y/N), it's kind of popular amongst your kind!" Felix's statement didn't help you. Instead you laughed more, curling up into a ball where you stood. "What are you doing now!?" Felix said in mock exasperation, beginning to chuckle himself. "I have to or I'm going to pee myself!" You managed out and Felix suddenly roared in laughter. "Friend, Demetri, listen, Carlisle needs to order a new human. This one is broken." Felix laughed hysterically as Demetri smirked with a playful eye roll. You wiped at tears that had built up in your eyes. "Ah, see, now that you've stopped yourself from relieving yourself on our floor, it's coming out your eyes instead. Humans are great!" "Felix, that is not how that works." Demetri said, his eyes wide as you continued to laugh. "Yes I kn- you ruined my joke! Of course I know that!" Felix face palmed.

Felix stood up, pulling you to a stand and bringing you to sit with him, his arm over your shoulder. "There, there, deep breaths. I've got you kid." Before you could blink he was on the other side of you. "Soothe both sides of you." A other giggle escaped you as he grinned. Demetri looked at you both with a smile. This was much more like the human they were accustomed to.

The day before you left, you visited Caius at his office, wanting to thank him for everything he had done for you. You were beyond aware he didn't have to say anything to console you. Yet he went above and beyond. "Come in." You heard his stern voice behind the door. "Hi, do you have a moment? I can come back later if it's more fitting?" You asked, looking at him as he moved a few sheets of paper to the side of his desk. "Not at all, you chose a very good moment. What is it?" Caius stood up, moving away from his desk and approached you, closing the door behind you. "Hm?" Caius promoted, slightly softer in tone than he had before. "I wanted to thank you, for taking me in and being there for me when I needed it most. I didn't have the expectation but you went above and beyond more than I could have ever asked of you. I'm grateful." You said. "Well, you certainly needed it. That I can tell you. It's a joy to see you've been more like yourself lately." Caius responded. You felt yourself gradually grow a little more emotional by the second. In some strange way, you were going to miss him and others of the Volturi. Despite being rather rough around the edges. "I don't know if anyone has ever told you this." You began. You feared his reaction but couldn't keep the thought to yourself. "You'd have been a really great father." You said swallowing against the lump in your throat. Caius looked slightly taken aback. His expression changed to something you couldn't quite describe. Awe wasn't the correct word but looked to be the closest thing. His eyes softening as though you had melted his heart with those words alone. He said nothing, unable to believe what he had heard. You immediately closed the gap, hugging him tightly. Caius inhaled sharply, uncertain what to do as you hugged his waist and your head against his chest. You couldn't see it but felt as Caius relaxed, a small smile growing upon his face. You felt a hand cradle the back of your head softly as his other arm wrapped around you. He bent ever so slightly, his head resting on top of yours. "You take care of yourself. Understand? I expect to hear of your transformation soon." He said quietly. When you broke away, he wasn't so emotional. Instead he gave you his signature smile. "I promise." You responded as he led you towards the door.

Marcus was the next you visited, around two hours later. Softly, you had knocked on his door to his own study and received a soft "Enter." in response. "Hi." You began meekly. "Do you have a second?" You asked as Marcus was putting a book back on book shelf. One of many that covered the whole wall with cabinets at the bottom. "I do." He nodded, turning towards you. "I...Oh hell, this gets harder to do each time." You said, eyes wide. Marcus tilted his head. "Take a breath. I won't bite." Marcus offered you a comforting smile. You smiled at the irony. "I wanted to thank you. You took me in and helped me through probably the most difficult thing I've ever endured in my life. You didn't have to and you did anyway. I wanted to say thank you. I appreciate it more than I could put it into words." Marcus smiled slightly. "Then allow me to thank you, dear (Y/N)." You raised an eyebrow, confusion crossing your features. "It's not often we have such young hearts here, all of ours have faded. You may have shown us that humans can be such wonderful things. Some of us might argue you to be the most wonderful of all. So thank you for blessing us with your presence, little one." You felt tears build again, rendered speechless. Marcus smiled, if anyone understood. It was him. "Your father would be so proud of you and every moment you've spent with us has been nothing short of a gift to us. Never forget that." You nodded. "I'll never forget what you've done for me. I can't express how thankful I am to you and the Volturi. I don't think I could have gotten through this without you." "Ah, ah, remember my dear. You were always going to come through. You've always had that strength in you. That was never strength that we could give. You've had it from the very beginning. It just takes some time." Marcus softly took hold of your arms. "I know it's going to make longer than our time together to properly heal from this. Although I'm more than confident that you will be just fine." As tears threatened to fall, you smiled at him. "I really don't get how you don't have children." You said and Marcus chuckled. "It wasn't supposed to be." "They'd be so lucky!" You responded as the two of you moved towards the door. Marcus chuckled. "If I ever had a child, I'd hope they'd turn out like you."

When you finally got a hold of Aro, it was in the throne room with Marcus and Caius. You bit your lip. "There's so much I want to say..." You said to him. "...but every time I go to talk I nearly cry." You admitted, the lump returning in your throat. Aro chuckled slightly. "Allow me then, my dear. You've shed enough tears." Aro stood up, descending the stairs with his hand extended towards you. You held out your hand and he took his, cradling it close to his chest. A warm, genuine smile grew on Aro's face. "We have such high hopes for you, young (Y/N)." He said softly. "Your time with us has been wonderful. You are a beautiful soul, my dear. The pleasure was ours, truly. You have no need to thank us." Aro finished. "I trust you will join our kind soon enough. Until then, be safe and send my regards to my dear friend Carlisle." You nodded and Aro nodded behind you. There stood Felix and Demetri who escorted you to the entrance.

The twins stood in waiting, dismissing the receptionist as you approached. "Is that everything?" Demetri asked, nodding to the bags beside the desk. You nodded. "Yeah." You looked at the four of them, silence overtaking the room. "I wanted to thank you guys too. I know it's not easy to be around a human like you have since I've been here. Especially an emotional wreck of a human." You noticed Alec's slight smirk at this. "Oh come here!" Felix finally said loudly, hugging you tightly. "I'm going to miss having a human around here." He grumbled. "...the receptionist?" You reminded him. "It's not the same! I actually like you!" You smiled into his broad shoulder. "I'll miss you, Felix." You said. "Don't! I'll find a way to keep you!" Felix grinned, squeezing slightly. "They'll never know. I'll find a way!" You giggled as the two of you broke the hug.

You stepped away, your attention moving to Demetri. "Of course I have to thank you!" You smiled, hugging him before he could respond. He smiled down at you, patting you on the back lightly. "Be safe." He said to you quietly. Finally you looked to the twins. "I know you two don't do the hugging and I've put you two through enough." Neither responded but Alec's gaze wasn't so harsh. It was an improvement as neither of them were glaring at you. "Thank you for putting up with me. I know it must have been annoying for you to have me around- being a human and all that." You smiled slightly at them. The twins were silent but you caught Alec sending you a smile. Whilst they didn't say anything to you, Alec's smile told you a lot. They didn't completely hate you. You weren't as bad as they had thought. Although they weren't quite willing to let their guard down around you. "You two take care." You nodded to them with a smile before turning away. "I believe the car is outside waiting for you." Demetri said with a small brief smile.

#request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #one shot #oneshot

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reidisreading · 3 years

Text

Sleep Deprivation - Spencer Reid x Reader

Writing Prompt: Spencer Reid is so sleep deprived he doesn’t notice his actions and accidentally crosses a line with reader. Reader ends up being abducted by unsub and Spencer has to make a choice towards his feelings to reader.

POV: Third Person POV but following certain characters.

Spencer Reid with they/them Reader

Type: angst with fluff at the end

warnings / trigger warnings: abduction, mentions of killing, subtle mentions of some sort of mental illness, reader gets hurt physically (punching, etc.), mild cursing.

*author note* Hi, this is my first story and I just wanted to get it out of my google drive page. I didn’t proofread this at all so there’s probably plenty of mistakes (if there is just tell me). I promise future stories will be a lot better than this.

*word count: 4,100*

To the outside world, Spencer Reid was the perfect person in control of all aspects of his life.

The problem with Spencer Reid was that he was too smart and active for his own safety. He struggled with sleep deprivation among other things that made it hard for him to keep track of himself. At this exact moment he was struggling with holding six hours of sleep in the last three days. He knows the dangers, he sees statistics, but when he closes his eyes all he can do is see Y/N in danger like in their last case and he can’t go through that. Not again, not when he was the one that found them all bloodied and almost unconscious. This was Spencer’s third cup of coffee in just that morning and the clock hadn’t turned to seven thirty, yet. He finished the last sip and rushed out the door to head to the subway, his hatred for driving now a good thing with his exhaustion getting in the way. A buzzing came from his satchel as he got on his seat, the subway less full than usual. SSA Hotchner Calling

“Good morning.” Reid’s husky voice shone through the speaker.

“Good morning, Reid, we have a new case in California, how far away are you?” Hotch said anxiously.

“Twenty five minutes away, including the walk.” Reid says confidently.

“Okay, head straight to the bullpen on your way in. We have no time to waste.” Hotch says before hanging up the phone. Reid finished reading the book he started that same morning and moved on to the second book he had stashed in his bag on his way out.

“Platform-.” He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he got off the cart and walked towards his job. The smell of the station made his nose hurt as he remembered previous cases of ill intent people doing foul things to their surroundings.

Get it together, Reid. You can’t walk in there distracted, they’ll know something is wrong. You can’t have Penelope and JJ worried all over you. You especially can’t have Y/N worried for you, you need to keep your head leveled around them.

It was probably easy to guess that their last case had taken the hardest toll on Spencer. His feelings for Y/N making it difficult to concentrate when the unsub had taken them as a means to keep the FBI scared. Spencer had spent most of his time away in a small office hunched over papers and profiles trying to get them back.

“Good morning, Doctor Reid.” The receptionist greeted the young doctor.

“Good morning!” Spencer said in a matched tone. He walked to the elevator, hitting the familiar key without looking at it at all.

Okay, you need to wake up and be alert. No dozing off like you’ve been doing today. You have a job to do, people are counting on you. Spencer repeated the same words to himself like a mantra until he saw the clear doors to the BAU main office.

Penelope Garcia POV

We have a tablet for Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Emily, of course, Chocolate Thunder, and using paper we have Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. They would be so cute together, those two. I know I could find a way for Hotch to let them be together if only they would admit their feelings for each other, this is ridiculous. It’s very obvious to everyone but those two that they’re the perfect match made. Ironic how the two smartest people to enter this building are too oblivious to notice this. If I had a nickel for every time-

“How we looking, Baby Girl?” Morgan interrupted Garcia from her ramble.

“Like I’d rather be watching something where someone doesn’t die.” She answered annoyed.

“Don’t we all?” He shook his head as he took his tablet, scanning some of the images, the flash of hurt running through his facial features like a marathon.

“Okay, we’re just waiting for Reid but he should be here any second.” Hotch says stressed while sitting down. The rest of the team, sans Reid, pile into the room taking their respective seats. Everyone opens their files on their tablets while Y/N scans through their paper folder.

“Where is Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked looking directly at Y/N as if they would know anything; thankfully Y/N was too focused on the case in front of them to pay any attention.

“Stop it.” Garcia whispered to him. Morgan looked at her and laughed while shaking his head.

It��s safe to say that the entire team knew that those two were crushing on each other, they had that energy about them.

Garcia got up from her seat, ready to direct the team along JJ on their latest case when the Boy Genius walked into the room in a hurry, his satchel already in his hands ready to be removed from his body.

“I’m sorry, there was a minor mishap and- not important, sorry.” He said while moving towards his seat which was conveniently next to Y/N’s. He stopped next to them, giving them a light kiss on the head before moving to his seat, the small action causing everyone in the room to fall into a heavy silence. He didn’t seem to notice this small movement as he continued on with his regular routine of taking everything off to focus on the file in front of him. “What’s going on in California?” He asked looking up at Garcia, only to notice her stunned expression. “What?” He asked looking at the rest of the team, noticing their silence and awkward glances at each other. The only one not looking at anyone in particular was Y/N.

“Nothing.” Garcia said while turning around to look at the slide show.

“Family in California was brutally murdered in their home. Father was moved away from them, from the shows of it, it seems to have been postmortem.” Garcia says while looking at JJ frantically.

“Two children were left in the closet- I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Reid, what was that?” Hotch asked while he asked JJ to pause the slideshow and turned to look at one of the two younger members of the team.

“Hotch, no.” Garcia whispered. He’s going to ruin everything! No! We FINALLY have something that officially indicates one of them feels something.

“I-I don’t understand?” Reid says confused.

“Pretty Boy coming out of his shell.” Morgan chuckles.

“What?” Reid asks, still confused.

“You just kissed Y/N.” Emily says sliding closer to him.

“I did what?” Reid asked with a raised tone.

“Reid, what’s going on?” Rossi asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Reid said genuinely concerned.

“You look tired.” Emily said, “well, I mean, more than usual.” She says worried.

“I mean, I haven’t really slept but it’s not that bad.”

“How much is ‘not that bad’?” Hotch asks.

“Six.” Reid whispered.

“Six hours daily?” Hotch presses.

“The last three days.” Reid finishes.

“Reid, no.” Emily says sadly.

“Can we get back to the case?” Reid asks, the entire room shifting energy. Y/N staying quiet as possible. It didn’t slip anyone’s notice that Y/N didn’t try to move from Reid, it was almost like they were shifting closer to him.

“Okay, uhm, two children were left in the closet, their hands tied behind their back and their mouths covered with electrical tape. It seems like most of the extra things the unsub did were postmortem because the children were tied and silenced after this unsub killed them.” Garcia said.

“The mom seems to have had the most anger targeted. She had leisure wounds around her neck and wrists, but that’s not what killed her. She was drowned in the bathtub, and it seems he may have stabbed her multiple times postmortem, too.” Y/N says as they go through their own file.

“Maybe they had a bad relationship with a maternal figure and they’re looking for ways to get back at her.” Rossi says.

“Any reason why the unsub may have targeted this family?” Hotch asks.

“None that I’ve found yet, sir.” Garcia answers.

“Okay, wheels up in thirty. Reid, I need to talk to you privately.” Hotch says as he dismisses the team.

Arron Hotchner I will have a word with you.

Spencer Reid POV

“I need you to stay at the base for this one.” Hotch says automatically.

“What? No, I can’t.” Reid replies.

“Yes. What happened there is only a glimpse of what can happen in the future, Reid. I cannot take the risk with the rest of the team. You stay here, work the case, and rest up. Sleep deprivation can cause memory loss and you’re already seeing the side effect. I can’t put you or others in danger.”

“Hotch, please.” Reid whispers.

“Y/N will be okay, I promise Reid.” Hotch said sternly.

“That’s not-.” Reid cut himself short.

“Your job now is to stay here and look at everything we can’t. Come up with theories. I have to go.” Hotch starts to walk away, “and I want you to get home at a reasonable time to sleep. I need you in future cases.” He finishes, walking towards the last of his paperwork and walks out of the room. Reid looks around the room and spots Penelope at the door, trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous.

“Let’s go Pen.” Reid calls out to her and picks up his own file.

“Reid, I don’t think Y/N-.”

“Pen, please.” Reid stops mid track, “I’m not allowed to go and I’m already exhausted as it is. Please, let’s just focus on this.” He says to her as he turns around and comes face to face with Y/N. “Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.”

“Are you- is everything okay?” He hushes.

“Yeah, I just came to say bye to you both. We’re on our way out.” Y/N replies looking at Reid like a fragile doll, if they moved too fast, he may break.

“Be safe.” He says, almost so quiet they miss it.

“Always am.” Y/N replied with a smile, “see you, Pen.” They waved at each other before Y/N finally walked away from them.

“Oh you’re smitten to the T.” Penelope teased.

“Penelope Garcia, there’s a room we need to get to and have no time to talk nonsense.” Reid said frustrated.

“Oh, we can most definitely talk while we’re in there mister Doctor Genius.” She giggled walking away from him.

“No, Penelope.” He says in a rushed tone as he jogs behind her.

————————

“Hello my furry friends, what can I do ya for?” Penelope asked in an enthusiastic tone.

“I need you to give me any and all financial statements about this family. Down to what they spent money on leisurely.” Hotch said not bothering to comment on her strange wording.

“Anything I should be looking for?” She asked.

“Yes, anything that may have been spent on from time to time. No cycle, something that if anyone looking wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow.” Emily pipes in.

“Reid?” Y/N called out, Reid’s cheeks automatically turning a bright red, he’s ears matching.

“Yeah?” He asked in a high pitched tone before clearing his throat, calling out to them again, “how can I help?” He asked.

“I found some letters and cards and they look like different people wrote them but I need you to read in between the lines and assign who wrote which letter.” Y/N said picking up the different notes and holding them to the camera, “I’m going to have JJ scan these and send them to Pen, if she could please do the rest so I can have a detailed explanation of the potential unsub.” They finished explaining.

“Yeah, I’ll have them finished for you as soon as I can.” Reid said confidently.

“Thanks Spence.” The team said their goodbyes.

“Oh you’ve got it bad, Lover Boy.” Penelope said through giggles.

“I don’t know what that means.” Reid said uncomfortably.

“That Y/N called you ‘Spence’ and you just about melted.” She teased.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh come on! When are you going to just get it over with and ask them out?” Penelope asked in a serious tone.

“Never, they don’t like me and I probably made them uncomfortable today with something I don’t even remember doing.” He fiddled with his pencil.

“Have you asked them?”

“No.”

“Then, you don’t know.” Penelope finished turning back to her computers seeing the files JJ sent, “Come on Boy Genius, your future significant other has work for you.” She said excitedly.

—————————

“Reid, another family was murdered twenty minutes ago, do you have anything that could lead us?” Hotch stressed.

“Yes, it seems all these families have in common is their religious beliefs and where they do grocery shopping.” He said going through his own paperwork.

“Those are two completely different things.” Emily said.

“No, because all three families come from the same neighborhood, down to the same economic standard. That means they all went to the same place of prayer and they all shop from the same places. It goes down to us having already interviewed the unsub.” Y/N says, paper shuffling is heard by Garcia and Reid as Y/N moves around the room with the rest of the team.

“They’re right. We concluded that the unsub is a white male in their mid twenties who comes from a household deprived of a mother figure or a divorce household. From the way the murders are being done, it shows they have a previous criminal record with small crimes, maybe petty theft or something big like sexual assault.” Reid goes on.

“In that case, we have only interviewed twenty people. Garcia, can you narrow down the list?” Hotch asked.

“You must be new here.” She says with an eye roll.

“Keep us updated.” Emily smiles.

“Stay safe.” Reid says, everyone knowing he’s truly directing it to one person, “all of you, stay safe.” He covers up before hanging up.

Jennifer Jareau’s POV

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ had wanted to speak with Y/N since they got out of the bullpen but for one reason or the other never got the chance.

“Hey, JJ.” Y/N smiled at the blonde.

“I know what Spencer did today was out of norm. Are you okay?” She asked. JJ knew neither of the Doctors were big on being touched unless they initiated it.

“I’m okay.” The young Doctor assured her.

“Can I ask you something?” JJ started, “I’m probably way out of line and you don’t have to answer but…” She started off testing the water, she kept an eye on Y/N making sure they weren’t uncomfortable at any moment, “do you like Spencer?” JJ finished.

The words coming out of their mouth wasn’t what gave them away, it was the way their cheeks and neck flared up in red pigmentation as their hands dropped the small cup of coffee they were holding, which had thankfully been empty.

“What? No, that’s- JJ, I do not like anyone.” Y/N stammered and failed to control their movements.

“Oh, I’m so glad to have asked you instead of Penelope.” JJ started laughing.

“I do not like… JJ it is wrong to make assumptions of others. It’s- JJ, no.” Y/N continued.

“Babe, it’s okay. Everyone and their mom’s can see that you and Spencer have a thing. For being the two smartest people I know… you’re both very daft.” JJ said sweetly.

“I actually don’t think he likes me, JJ. I noticed that his behavior towards me changed into a more protective one after we finished the case. I think he’s guilty because he was meant to stay with me and we got separated.” Y/N said sadly.

“You cannot possibly be serious.” JJ questioned.

“I am.” Y/N retorted.

“That man is in love with you.”

“No.” Y/N said as they picked up the empty cup they’d previously dropped. “Anyway, we need to finish this before anyone else dies.”

“Y/N…”

“Hotch is waiting.” Y/N left the small room.

When JJ walked outside, the rest of the team was doing a video call with Garcia and Reid. Y/N was busy looking through a stack of papers while Garcia gave more information about the possible unsub.

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke up once Garcia finished.

“I’m here.” Y/N left the stack of papers next to them as they paid close attention to Reid.

Reid cleared his throat twice before he started detailing the information he’d found, “it seems like three people wrote those letters. It wasn’t easy to figure out because the same person switched through hand writings quite easily. So, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t have seen it.” Reid finished while holding up the letters now filled with side notes.

“Thanks, Spence.” Y/N smiled at him before picking up the stacks, “that actually narrows down the unsub to four different people.” They picked up a folder one by one and handed it off to others.

“Garcia, tell us anything on Tony Carter.” Hotch asks.

While Garcia was telling them all the smallest details she could find to Tony Carter, Spencer and Y/N both went over the notes again.

“It’s Jared Tall.” They said in unison.

“Babies, you can’t just bring out the genius in the middle of my genius.” Garcia said annoyed.

“How do you know?” Hotch asks the both of them.

“The notes.” Spencer said like it was obvious.

“It did catch me off guard how this one was written, but it says Jared Tall.” Y/N said like it was no big deal as they pointed at the small details that brought out the name Jared Tall.

Y/N’s POV

“Hotch, I’m by the south exit. There’s fresh tracks. I think he’s here.” Y/N told their supervisor.

“Don’t go in without backup. He’s incredibly dangerous and will take out anyone in his place.” Hotch directed.

“Copy.” Y/N finished replying when they felt a sharp pain come across their temple making them crash against the ground. The cold surrounded them as did darkness.

Morgan’s POV

“Morgan, I need you to go to the south exit with Y/L/N. They said there’s fresh tracks and that’s dangerous.” Hotch directed. Morgan didn’t answer and just moved to the exit his supervisor had appointed him to.

“Hotch, Y/L/N isn’t here.” Morgan said through the radio.

“What?” Hotch asked. Derek didn’t need the radio to hear his directions towards the rest of the team.

“Their radio is here, Hotch.” Morgan turned around to face him.

“They couldn’t have gone too far. I gave them directions two minutes ago.” Hotch said while looking around. He turned his radio on and directed everyone to meet at the front of the abandoned cabin. “I need everyone in a group of three. Dogs need to go with you. Y/L/N has intensive knowledge on how to get out of hostage situations but there’s blood on the floor and they may be unconscious now. There’s a likelihood that the unsub took Y/L/N to the same location he has the rest of his victims, if that’s the case he’ll have two children. You need to be extremely careful and vigilant. We have until sundown.” Hotch dismissed everyone Morgan staying behind with him as Hotch called Garcia.

“Genie in a lap. You have three wishes.” Garcia said in her usual chirpy voice.

“Is Reid with you?” Hotch asked.

“No. He went out to get us lunch.” Garcia said as the blood ran cold through her veins, “sir, please don’t tell me that I have to tell Boy Wonder that the person he’s in love with and he doesn’t even realize loves him back, has been kidnapped again.”

“Y/L/N what?” Hotch and Morgan could hear Reid from the other end of the line.

“He knows.” Garcia whispered on the line.

“Reid, I’ve got every agent and officer looking for them. They’ll be okay.” Hotch promised.

“I’ve heard that before.” Reid said darkly.

“I’ll call with any updates.” Hotch hung up.

Y/N POV

I’ve got a concussion for sure. Okay, and one broken rib. I can’t open my eyes or move, definitely blindfolded and hands are tied. Probably underground. By the voices near me there’s two children here as well.

“The fucking FBI. Fuck.” There was pacing around the room. Only one set of feet were moving around. “If you scream, I kill them.” The unsub said. Not knowing what to do, Y/L/N just nodded. “This wouldn’t have happened if that bitch had just ran away with me.” He continues.

“Who, Jared?” Y/N asked calmly.

“Patty!” Jared shouted. “She had to stay with her stupid perfect family. What about me?” He kept shouting uncontrollably.

“This isn’t your fault Jared. She didn’t deserve you.”

“You’re right. She had to pay.” Jared kept pacing.

“Jared, I need you to do me a favour.” Y/N approached. “You need to let the children go. They’re innocent in all of this, just as much as you are.” The added in the end.

“They’re right, Jared. The children are innocent.” Y/N heard Morgan say evenly. “They’re just as innocent as you. They’d never hurt anyone, just like you.” Morgan approached. Y/L/N could now hear him walking near them. Something must have happened in the ten seconds that there was complete silence, because all Y/N heard after that were three gunshots and suddenly they were being untied. “It’s Morgan, you’re okay, Y/N.” Morgan whispers to them.

“The children.” Y/N whispers.

“JJ’s got them.” Morgan replies.

“I’ve got a broken rib.” Y/N tells him.

“Anything else?” Morgan asks as he lifts them from the entrance.

“Nothing I can feel as of now.” They reply surely, “Morgan, Reid is-.”

“He knows you were taken. He’s not happy at the moment.” Morgan replies.

“Where’s Hotch?”

“We found another child near here and he’s been assisting on that.”

“This wasn’t his fault. None of us could have known.” They tell Morgan.

“Tell that to your lover boy. He’s pissed.” Morgan laughs as he sets them on the bed of the ambulance.

“He’s not my-.” Y/N starts saying before getting interrupted.

“He’s in love with you. That makes him Lover Boy.”

Morgan teases.

“I cannot wait for you to no longer be single.” Y/N teases him.

“Right back at ya, Pretty Face.” Morgan flicks his finger against their chin and walks away; allowing the first responder to assess their wounds.

Y/N had to get checked at the local hospital, the rib that had fractured was making it painful for them to breathe and couldn’t wait to get checked in Quantico.

To say the ride back was long and uncomfortable was an understatement. They’d spend two extra days in California and that was two days too long.

“You get to see your mans today.” Morgan teased.

“Hotch, Morgan is being annoying.” Y/N said loudly.

“Did you just tattle on me?” Morgan asked in mocked surprise.

“And I’ll do it again.” Y/N said confidently.

“Behave or I’ll ground you both.” JJ said sternly. Once the jet landed, all their teasing suddenly vanished. Garcia and Spencer were waiting for them at the entrance of the BAU floor. No one said anything as they all hugged each other, Y/N keeping their distance from the team as Spencer gave the rest of the team a small half hug trying not to be rude as his family came in contact with his arms. The all unsubtly excused themselves, giving Spencer and Y/N some privacy.

Something changed inside Spencer when he found out that Y/N had been abducted. Something shifted, it was like he finally understood he could no longer pretend and show a façade every time he was around them.

Gravity was working differently now, or maybe it was their legs, neither of them were sure which it was. They crossed the small space between them as Y/N crashed against Spencer’s arms; the world just that much lighter now that neither of them were holding anything in. Spencer held them so tightly he was sure he was going to turn them into dust.

“Wait, your rib-.” Spencer started.

“Shh.” Y/N pulled away further from him as they grabbed him by his sweater vest and their lips finally met.

There was cheering in the near distance but they both pretended they didn’t know what was going on behind them.

Spencer pulled away for a second causing Y/N to give him a slight pout, “go on a date with me?” Spencer finally asked.

“Only if you go back to kissing me.” Y/N replied, Spencer attaching their lips together before Y/N could even finish the sentence.

#reidisreading #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds spencer #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 13

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

“You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,958

Warnings: angst, swearing, character death (canonical, but with my own twist), made up planet name that is ridiculous, dialogue heavy, plot plot plot, backstory

Author Note: Good lord this is soooo late coming out. To anyone who sent me an encouraging message I am beyond grateful because I really needed the encouragement to finish this segment. I hope more than anything this segment gives more answers than it raises questions (although reading your theories is both awesome and entertaining so keep them coming too!)

Links to Part 1 and Part 12 and Part 14

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

“Who the fuck is Moff Gideon?”

Ahsoka looks at Din, her brow furrowed deeply. He’s seen the expression on her face enough times to recognize its meaning: this is the face she makes when she is about to reveal a message directly from the universe itself. As an Oracle, she is the only immortal who can glimpse details of the past, present, and future. She has a soft spot for mortals, sharing the few precious snippets the universe allows her to with them in the forms of riddles and vague prophecies that never fail to give Din a migraine with their crypticness when he hears them.

“Moff Gideon is a Seraph who grew discontent with his position amongst immortals,” she says at last.

“Is he the one responsible for keeping my soulmate from me?” he asks, voice as harsh and unforgiving as the environment surrounding them.

“He is responsible for many sins.”

“I don’t have time for your vague answers,” he growls, hands twisting into fists. “You tell me not to kill this Seraph, then in the next breath claim he’s a threat. I am not a mortal who will be entertained by riddles, Ahsoka. You summoned me here to talk, so start talking. Tell me what you know.”

The Oracle’s mouth purses into a thin line. Nearly a full minute passes before she speaks again. When she does, the calmness is no longer natural, but forced. “Telling you what I know would be impossible.”

“Ahsoka—”

“But,” she pitches her voice higher than his protest while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly, “I am capable of showing you. You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

She reaches forward, pressing her index and middle fingers to the center of his visor. If not for his helmet, she’d be touching the space directly between his eyes and instinct tells him the positioning isn’t random.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” she says, but her voice has changed from its usual cadence. It is ancient and youthful, a harsh scream and a hushed whisper all at once.

Din has only the slightest of seconds to process this in addition to the way her facial markings start to glow and her eyes flash white before he finds himself standing in the midst of a crisis.

There is mass hysteria every direction he turns. People screaming in terror, pushing each other and tripping over those who have fallen in their haste to flee an unseen threat; whole buildings are crumbling, sending flaming debris and shards of glass raining down upon the streets as smoke billows into the sky. The edges of his field of view are blurred, like he’s looking at everything through someone’s glasses, and it creates an ache behind his eyeballs. Fuck, is this what it’s like for Ahsoka when she experiences visions?

‘You remember the Fall of Mandalore, don’t you, Death?’ Ahsoka’s voice resonates from deep inside his brain, as if she’s fused her consciousness with his.

His jaw tightens when he says, “Of course.”

‘Oh, look. There you are.’

Sure enough, when Din looks forward he sees himself moving swiftly through the crowd, unaffected by the chaos as he stoops to reap the soul of a woman who’s had her skull caved in by the stampede of frantic civilians. He wonders how many others can say they’ve had an out-of-body-experience such as what he’s dealing with right now: reliving a traumatic event all over again while observing himself the same way a stranger would from a distance.

“Why are you showing me this?”

‘Because it’s important,’ Ahsoka answers, and the image of her frowning face enters his mind unbiddenly. ‘The universe has a plethora of endings imagined for every civilization, but it is the individual choices of the community that act as stepping stones bringing them closer to a specific fate.’

“Mandalore was always meant to fall apart. It was just a matter of how, not when,” he surmises, voice devoid of emotion. His words are punctuated by another fiery blast from a nearby complex, followed by an ear-piercing wall of a terrified child.

‘Precisely. But the same cannot be said for an individual’s lifespan. There are consequences if someone perishes before their time has come. You should know that better than anyone.’ There is a hint of accusation thinly veiled in her tone that has his body tensing reflexively.

His location shifts, shapes and colors mixing together without warning before another scene gradually comes into focus. It’s a large chamber with sparse furnishings, but its beauty is tarnished by the copious amounts of glass littering the room as every single one of the ornately designed windows have been shattered from the force of the explosions outside. Din knows before he even lays eyes on the throne he’s inside the royal palace because he first sees the familiar face of his most trusted reaper standing next to a blond-haired woman. Both women have such strikingly similar facial features nobody who sees them side by side can have any doubt they are related.

Whereas Bo-Katan dons gray-and-blue armor with a jetpack strapped to her back and two blaster pistols holstered at her sides, her sister, Satine, wears a garnet colored dress with a gold belt wrapped around her slender waist. In this moment, the sisters differ from each other as much as night and day; one a military leader, the other a pacifistic duchess.

“You need someone here to protect you. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and it isn’t safe for you to be alone,” Bo-Katan argues, crossing her arms over her chest as if to intimidate her sister into submitting.

“Our people are scared and defenseless, Bo. They need your protection during this crisis more than I currently do,” Satine says, voice soft but firm in a way only those deeply involved in politics can master.

Bo-Katan glances out the broken windows at the burning city, stubborn loyalty to protect her sister warring with her duty to protect her people. “Then at least send a message to Obi-Wan to come here.”

Satine shakes her head. “Bo—”

“I know things are strained between you two right now—”

“That’s a glaring understatement.”

“—but he’s one of our best and most loyal guards. He’s proven more than a dozen times he’ll fight anyone who’s a threat to you.”

“I don’t need the reminder of what he’s done for me.”

Bo-Katan places a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezes it when she says, “He’s the only one other than myself I trust to protect you if you were to encounter danger.”

“Just because I’m committed to peace does not mean I am incapable of looking after myself.” Satine reaches behind herself to detach a weapon that had been clipped to the back of her belt. She clicks a button on its hilt, emitting a white blade shining brightly like a beacon amongst the dark clouds of smoke tainting the air.

Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Is that…?”

‘The Lightsaber of Mandalore,’ Ahsoka confirms. ‘Made by the Armorer herself.’

The Armorer is deeply respected by both mortals and immortals alike. As the goddess of metalworking and blacksmiths, there is nothing she cannot forge and infuse with grand powers. However, she is exceedingly cautious about choosing who is a recipient of her creations.

Din is one such recipient, having been given his armor of pure beskar when the Armorer realized how dangerous his touch was to mortals. He remains eternally grateful for the gift not only because it prohibits unwanted physical contact, but also because it is invulnerable to damage or rust like other types of armor. Ahsoka’s dual sabers were also made in the Armorer’s forge, specifically designed for the Oracle’s grip alone and meant to protect her during her journeys throughout the galaxy, but in contrast to the white blade of the Lightsaber, the blades of Ahsoka’s weapons matched the same blue coloring as the stripes on her lekku and montrals.

According to the legends Din’s heard, the Armorer created the Lightsaber for the first ruler of Mandalore because she was impressed with their culture and strong military, and it was passed on to each new heir to the throne over the centuries. When wielded in battle, the Lightsaber made the user invincible against enemy attacks as it siphoned off energy from the souls of those it sliced through.

Throughout the long history of Mandalore, Satine was distinguished as the only ruler to avoid warfare as she sincerely believed negotiations and treaties could solve any problem quicker than bloodshed.

As such, Din isn’t surprised when Bo-Katan raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you wouldn’t use the Lightsaber even to cut a piece of fruit.”

Satine sighs through her nose, sheathing the weapon once more. “Fine. I’ll contact Obi the second you’re gone.”

“You better.” Bo-Katan leans forward, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. A gesture of affection within their culture. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then she’s gone, flying out the nearby window and diving straight into the fray. As a mortal and as a reaper, the redhead is fearless in the face of danger. Some might consider the behavior reckless, but Din’s always been impressed by her dogged tenacity to achieve victory no matter the difficulty of her mission.

Din looks back at Satine. Now that she is alone in the room, she is able to freely express her distress at the unfolding situation, looking as if she’s aged ten years within the blink of an eye. She fiddles with the comlink around her wrist, seeming hesitant to call this Obi-Wan fellow like she agreed to.

‘They haven’t realized it, but they’re soulmates, ’ Ahsoka murmurs, low and melancholic. Hearing it makes Din’s chest constrict with unease. ‘They fought recently and parted ways upset with each other. Unfortunately, she dies before they can resolve their miscommunication.’

The next sequence of events play out startlingly quick, as if Ahsoka has chosen to suddenly jump forward in time. His eyes struggle to absorb the fleeting details—the doors to the throne room being blown open; a Seraph in black armor emerging from the smoke; his voice is unique, velvety and thorny at the same time, as he addresses the duchess by her full name Satine Kryze; Satine attempting to stall as she subtly taps at her comlink, only for the tactic to fail as the foe teleports closer, eliminating the space between them.

“You have something I want,” he tells her, seizing hold of her throat. “You may think you have some idea of what you have in your possession, but you do not.”

One of Satine’s hands claws at his face, attempting to gouge out his eyeballs with her nails, while the other reaches for the Lightsaber. Her fingertips brush against its metal hilt just as he throws her to the floor. The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, eliciting a strangled gasp, and shards of glass dig into her exposed skin, dotting the pale flesh with beads of blood.

Gideon—Din doesn’t need Ahsoka’s input to know this, for who else could the Seraph be but him?—places the heel of his boot over Satine’s neck. He doesn’t apply pressure yet, but the action in itself has the duchess squirming with panic, hitting at his leg futilely. There is a red light on the comlink flashing insistently, indicating someone on the other end is speaking but they’ve been muted.

“Give me the asset I seek.”

Through clenched teeth, Satine wheezes, “It belongs to Mandalore.”

“I thought you might say that,” Gideon replies, feigning disappointment. “However, in case you haven’t noticed Duchess,” he gestures towards the windows, “Mandalore is dead. My accomplices have made sure of that.”

“You’re a coward for hiding behind others. You don’t deserve the Lightsaber.”

There is a sudden change in the atmosphere, air turning impossibly frigid and crisp.

“I deserve it more than anyone,” Gideon says, angry enough he is trembling. The Seraph’s stance shifts, and although Din has witnessed every type of brutal death imaginable, he flinches at the sound of Satine’s neck snapping beneath his heel.

Gideon rolls her lifeless body over and rips the Lightsaber off her belt, a satisfied smirk on his face. He disappears as quickly as he arrived, reward in hand, and an eerie silence envelops the room. It’s almost as if the palace itself is stunned by the loss of its ruler, struggling to make sense of the merciless act of violence.

Time skips forward again, showing a young bearded-man dressed in military armor clutching at Satine’s body, pressing his forehead against hers as he weeps. Over and over he keeps murmuring apologies for not being quicker, for failing to be there when she needed him, for never saying he loved her.

“How do you know Satine and Obi-Wan are soulmates if they never matched?” Din asks, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment despite not actually being there.

He thinks of a similarly phrased question he’d asked his angel on their way to Sorgan what feels like entire lifetimes ago: how will I know it’s my soulmate? Her eloquent response remains embedded deep in his memory, safely stored away along with every other moment they’ve spent together. Longing twists like a knife in his side as he allows himself a second of weakness to look at the soulmate marking on his palm.

‘I saw the life they were going to share,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘Satine Kryze was not meant to die here. She and Obi-Wan should have both survived the Fall of Mandalore, settling down happily with each other elsewhere in the galaxy. Gideon’s greed altered their destinies.’

The palace fades away to reveal a much older Obi-Wan, gray-haired and wrinkled. He’s in Mos Eisley; Din recognizes the crowded spaceport instantly having taken his ship there for repairs numerous times over the years.

‘The universe puts a lot of effort into making sure soulmates match with each other at a very precise moment. Even if the match is rejected, the individuals still had an important impact on each other’s lives. Timing is the most important factor for a soulmate pairing, and if it’s off then the universe will attempt to fix it.’

Obi-Wan stops to help a woman who’s accidentally dropped her shopping bag, contents spilling out onto the sandy ground. She thanks him as he offers her a polite smile, both of their attentions on each other’s faces and not their hands. More specifically: their marked hands. There is the barest brush of their fingertips as they reach for the same item before an invisible blast of energy erupts from their touch, splitting them apart and sending every person and thing surrounding them flying in all directions.

The shock on Obi-Wan’s face matches Din’s own beneath his helmet. He remembers his angel telling him after the failed match with Omera what happened on Sorgan wasn’t the first time an event like that occurred, but she hadn’t been privy to the details. Her superior had told her she wasn’t high enough ranking which Din had thought sounded like a load of bantha shit at the time.

“Ahsoka, what is the meaning of this?” Din asks the questions quietly, but there’s an audible coating of frustration that he knows she won’t miss. “Satine’s dead.”

‘You didn’t reap her soul,’ Ahsoka says. It’s said as a gentle reminder, but it nevertheless has Din feeling like the ground has disappeared beneath his feet as realization dawns.

“I...didn’t.”

A quiet sigh echoes through his head. ‘I forgot how ignorant you can be. You can’t reap a mortal soul that transforms into a new entity.’

“She’s a Cupid,” Din murmurs. Either that or a reaper, but he knows each of his reapers like the back of his hand and Satine isn’t nor has she ever been one. He shakes his head, thinking of Obi-Wan finding Satine’s body in the throne room. “That doesn’t make any sense. Obi-Wan clearly loved her.”

‘Rejection can sometimes stem from a misunderstanding. Satine’s last living encounter with Obi-Wan was him saying so long as he was part of the royal guard they had no future together. She perceived this as him denying he cared about her, not knowing he had made plans to retire in order to ask for her hand.’

In front of Din, Obi-Wan rubs at his soulmate marking while staring at the mess around him, lines of unease and confusion creasing his forehead.

‘You asked, what is the meaning of this moment?’ Ahsoka continues. ‘It’s one of the universe’s attempts to reconnect Obi-Wan and Satine so they experience their matching as they were intended to.’

“But they’re of different statuses,” he points out needlessly. “She’ll outlive him.”

‘Yes, but the matching of soulmates not only influences the lives of the pair, but the lives of other people as well in ways both obvious and invisible. Think of it as a ripple effect.’

“Did the universe’s attempt work?” Din wonders. “Were they ever reunited?”

‘When Satine awoke as a Cupid, it was a surprise to both her and Gideon. Rather than kill her a second time, the Seraph chose to inflict a worse fate. She became the first of her kind to have her memories erased. However, he’d never previously used his ability on another immortal before, resulting in him nearly wiping her entire mind clean. The universe is capable of many miracles, big and small, but every attempt of reuniting the pair failed. It remains the universe’s most profound regret which is ultimately the reason why the universe brought you to Trinomliaxeros without your armor so that history wouldn’t repeat itself.’

There is a strange, heavy feeling that suddenly inflates within the confines of Din’s chest like a balloon. It’s different from the rampant anger he can still detect simmering beneath the skin of his human façade. He tries to shake it off, focusing on his breathing and the desert heat emanating from the twin suns overhead, only to slowly realize that what he’s feeling is fear.

Within his memory he can recall just one other distinct moment in his existence where he felt this spine-chilling emotion, and that moment was experienced on Trinomliaxeros.

“What did you just say?” His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears, but he can’t find any energy within himself to care.

A long stretch of silence fills his head; it’s the fragile kind, too, preventing him from snapping at Ahsoka to answer lest she become angry at him and yank him out the vision entirely.

‘Twice the timing of a soulmate match has been disturbed. The first pair affected was Obi-Wan and Satine. And the second pair was...’

“Ahsoka,” he says when she hesitates to continue, but any additional words he can think of saying catch in the back of his throat.

‘The second pair was you and your angel.’ Another pause of silence, shorter but no less meaningful. ‘Only fifty years ago, she wasn’t an angel.’

This is what Din remembers from Trinomliaxeros: feeling a pull so forceful, impatient and unanticipated it drags him across the galaxy in his civilian clothes, arriving to find the planet engulfed in smoke, unable to see his hand in front of his face, even without his gloves on. Finding skeletal remains burnt to blackened crisps with the souls inside shaking and traumatized, practically leaping into his outstretched hand, knowing either the afterlife or damnation would be better destinations than lingering there even a second longer. Explosions in the distance, bursts of flames as intense and hot as the sun, greedily consuming everything in their radius.

Out of the smoke and darkness, a survivor. A girl, covered in soot and sweat, colliding with his chest. The dead are calling out to him, pleading for him to reap them, to save them. Their voices swirl around his head, clawing at his brain and pounding against his skull. Shoving the girl aside, one foot in front of the other, letting his powers guide him to the next soul. Her voice cuts across the distance, a plasma bolt striking him in the back. We’re soulmates, she says.

His breath stills in his lungs. Fear spreads like a virus through his bloodstream, slipping beneath his defenses, turning him into a stranger within his own body. The declaration is a lie, an impossibility, a delusion. He has no match, hands unmarked, flesh poisonous and lethal. His words, too, are weapons themselves. Sharp, ruthless, desiring to wound her as she’s wounded him. You could never be my soulmate.

And then he’d left her.

This is what Din remembers. But, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly it hurts, I’ve remembered everything all wrong.

Phantom hands gently press against the sides of his helmet, offering comfort without caring about the dried blood. He keeps his eyes shut, knowing it’s just a manifestation crafted by Ahsoka in his head. ‘Don’t blame yourself. This was the only viable outcome the universe could produce to ensure the bad timing would be remedied in the future,’ she says, but it does little to lessen the weight on his chest. ‘Your rejection saved her life. It granted you both a second chance of a first meeting.’

“How did—” Din struggles to string words together, to fucking breathe. “She—She knew. What we were. How…?”

The Oracle puts him out of his misery. ‘She found out the way all soulmates do: through touch.’

Din’s eyes fly open at that, and he has to blink a few times to bring everything into focus because there’s him and his angel right in front of him, frozen mid-collision. She’s grasping the sleeves of his coat to keep her balance, the palm of her marked hand touching his wrist. He stares at the point of contact for a moment, then barks out a laugh, hysterical and strangled sounding.

“That’s not possible.”

‘Soulmates can’t kill each other. She’s always been meant to withstand your touch.’

Din swallows thickly, staring at his angel’s face. He hates the question forming on his tongue, but it will haunt him the rest of his life if he doesn’t ask it. “In your visions, when I meet her at the right time, what happens?”

'You’re different by then, less broody and more accepting of the notion you could be loved. You have a soulmate marking,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘You fall for her hard, even before your hands brush. You love her throughout the entirety of her lifetime.’

“And...when she dies?” The words taste like blood in his mouth.

‘Don’t torture yourself, Death. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore.’

For one brief, fleeting second Din is actually grateful Gideon altered their destinies. However, in the next, he’s trying not to let the fear gnawing at the back of his mind increase as it belatedly occurs to him that the universe is not as infallible as he’s always believed it was.

He wishes he could see Ahsoka, if only so he could glare at her directly. “Everything you’ve shown me has only further convinced me Gideon deserves death. Why have you asked me to promise not to kill him?”

'Do you remember what happens after this moment on Trinomliaxeros?’

Din frowns at the change of subject. “I continued to reap souls.”

'Yes. And then?’

He huffs a frustrated breath through his nose. This is Ahsoka, he thinks, at her most annoying. But, as much he loathes admitting it, this is also the most helpfully transparent she’s ever been. Today may be the only time she trusts him enough to share her visions. He owes it to her to be as open as she’s being with him.

That being said, he’s still wary of the memories he’s kept in the distant, shadowy corners of his mind being pulled into the spotlight. “Tell me we’re not gonna talk about the kid.”

‘We talked about the universe’s biggest regret. It’s only fair we talk about yours too.’ Ahsoka has found the crack in his armor he’s tried so long to conceal, peeling it open without remorse.

She doesn’t spare him time to argue. All he does is blink and he’s looking at his past self locked in a staring contest with a little green-skinned child who is propped up inside a floating, orb-shaped pram.

Of all the buildings and homes on the planet, only its temple had remained untouched by the destruction. Din didn’t know if it had been the structure’s own holy foundation keeping it standing or if it was the personal choice of the mastermind behind the attack, but he’d been drawn to it regardless, finding souls there to reap whose hosts had differed from other victims in that their throats had been slit. The walls of the temple were adorned with intricate murals depicting immortal figures and religious events of ancient history, but before he could observe the artwork closer, a quiet coo had stopped him in his tracks.

When he opened the pram, he hadn’t anticipated finding a baby of all creatures. When their eyes connected, every background noise abruptly ceased. Even the voices of the dead fell silent. Rather than rouse his suspicions, Din had felt only a sense of peace he usually only experienced in the midst of hyperspace travel where the stars were his voiceless companions.

An unspoken conversation transpired between the two of them, one Din still can’t translate into words all these years later, but it concluded with him knowing he would take the child with him.

Din had reached for him unthinkingly, the child lifting his arms up in eagerness to be held, but self-awareness kicked in right before contact and Din retracted his hands away so fast it startled the child into crying, brown eyes filling with tears. Panicked, he surveyed the room, looking for something to put an end to the wailing, before looking down at his own coat, experiencing a lightbulb moment.

“Alright, kid, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Watching his past self shrug off the coat, Din remembers it had been his favorite of his civilian clothes, well worth the cost for its soft fabric and length. He managed to successfully swaddle the child, ensuring his arms were safely tucked away to prevent him endangering his life, and Din exhaled a quiet breath of relief when the tears dried up almost immediately.

However, the ensuing silence wasn’t as peaceful as the previous one. Both past and present Din turn at the sound of distant shuffling echoing off the temple walls from another room.

“Ignore it,” Din tells his past self. “Just take the kid and leave.”

But his plea goes unheard and the past remains unchanged. Ahsoka is silent inside his head, either because she knows he won’t accept any more comforting words or because she thinks he’s undeserving of them for choosing to leave the child behind in his pram, closing it when he starts to whine again, so Din can go investigate the noise.

Din exhales a quiet breath, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he watches himself stalk through the temple halls, checking each room he comes across. It’s strange, seeing himself from this perspective. The distanced viewpoint allows Din to glimpse new details he hadn’t been capable of noticing back then.

Such as the reappearance of a familiar Seraph emerging from the shadows to stab him in the back.

Here’s one of the perks about being Death: he can’t be killed. That fact doesn’t mean there haven’t been attempts though. As Death, people sometimes look at his armor as a challenge. Like if they can fire a shot or throw a knife at just the right angle, it’ll wound him and allow them to live longer. Simply put, all those people are idiots.

When he looks like a regular, unintimidating civilian, he’s also been involved in violent predicaments where someone’s attempted to mug him or where he’s tried to save someone else from a similarly sticky situation.

Armor or no armor though, he’s always walked away from these encounters completely unscathed.

Well. With the sole exception of Trinomliaxeros where he was mostly unscathed.

It wasn’t the first time Din had been stabbed before. Usually knife wounds felt like a mild pinch. More irritating than painful, similar to a splinter stuck in one’s thumb. Once the weapon was removed, the damage healed within seconds, leaving behind no scar or proof he was ever attacked.

Usually, is the keyword to note here.

Ahsoka freezes time right when the blade of the Lightsaber is driven straight through the center of Din’s body, bone and flesh as easy to slice through as melted butter. His agonized expression—eyes screwed shut and lips open in a silent scream—would be comical if Din didn’t remember the exact emotions he was feeling in that moment.

Instead of a pinch, it’d felt as if thousands of invisible hands were pulling and scratching at him, attempting to strip apart his human exterior layer by layer—peeling off skin, scraping away muscle and bone marrow, seeking to reach the core of himself where his powers resided.

‘Looks like it hurts,’ Ahsoka says. The return of her naturally calm and neutral tone of voice seems almost cruel given the frozen, graphic display.

Din again wishes he could glare at her. “Is this funny to you?”

‘The transformation of the Lightsaber into the Darksaber is anything but funny.’

Lost in recollection, he failed to notice until now how the blade of the Lightsaber has changed in color from white to black. It’s the same inky hue that absorbs the brown in his eyes, that had dyed his veins during the execution of Hess.

‘The Armorer specifically instructed the Lightsaber only be used against enemies. As a neutral entity, you are, by definition, no one’s ally or adversary. By stabbing you, the saber became corrupted. It is a consequence Gideon still has yet to fully realize the monumental repercussions of.’

Time resumes, Din’s past self collapsing onto the floor, pressing a hand to the throbbing hole in his chest, attention too consumed by the franticness of his powers struggling to repair the trauma to notice Gideon lingering behind him. The Seraph’s stunned look of shock lasts barely ten seconds, morphing into one of deep contemplation as his gaze flicked between the weapon and Din, before he vanished.

When Din recovered enough to stand, he teleported back to the child’s location at once. He needs to get the little guy as far away from here as possible, somewhere peaceful and safe. His planning came to an abrupt halt upon finding the pram open and empty, his coat shredded and scattered about the floor in pieces.

“Gideon took him.” It isn’t a question.

‘Yes,’ she confirms. ‘The child was the intended target of this siege.’

“Why?”

‘He’s...very special.’ There is something about how her voice hitches when she says ‘special’ that has Din’s instincts prickling with alertness, but he holds his tongue. ‘Gideon considers him a tool he can take advantage of.’

The ugly, tight mass of anger swells inside of him and presses against his lungs, resulting in a low growl slipping out of his mouth. He curses his own ineptitude. If he’d paid more attention, hadn’t allowed himself to be wounded, he could have subdued Gideon and spared both his angel and the child from being captured.

“I warned you once upon a time, there would be consequences if you released your darkness,” Ahsoka says, her voice no longer emitting from inside his head. The vision fades back into reality the same sudden, jarring way one wakes up from dreaming. It takes all of Din’s self-restraint not to perform a full-body shake. “Your control is slipping as your rage increases. It’s making you not think clearly which is exactly what Gideon wants. That is the reason I am asking you to promise you will not kill him.”

Put like that, Din no longer thinks her request sounds quite so outlandish, even though he does still remain in the dark as to what consequences exactly will unfold. Ahsoka has remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the topic from their very first encounter, claiming the universe is adamant she can only share the details with one other person and it isn’t him.

“He deserves to die for all he’s done,” Din says quietly, but he’s self-aware to know his resistance is beginning to crumble.

“Between you and me, I think so, too,” she admits in the same low tone. Her ocean eyes are dark and stormy, reflecting her internal turmoil. “But rules are made for a reason and we would be fools to carelessly overlook the consequences of breaking them.”

The accusatory note from earlier has returned with a vengeance. He’s not surprised—of course the universe would utilize the Oracle to express its disapproval—but aggravation still thrums through his veins.

“Hess played a hand in my soulmate’s fate. He called her a whore.” Din’s upper lip twitches with the urge to snarl. “I don’t regret what I did to him.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that. When you swore your creed, you promised the universe you’d only reap a soul when their host’s time has reached its destined end. By killing Hess, you not only broke a sacred rule, you also broke your creed.”

Din recoils, feeling like he’s been stabbed with the Lightsaber all over again.

“...What?” The anger is gone, extinguished by the weight of the revelation. Confusion and wariness are quick to fill the void. “What does that mean?”

She looks away then, but not quick enough to hide her troubled expression. “I...don’t know.”

He blinks, mind scrambling to understand the implications. “Isn’t that your purpose? To know everything?”

“For the very first time, the future’s unclear to me,” she murmurs, eyes briefly turning cloudy as if she’s trying to take a peek at the potential timelines right then and there. She shakes her head a beat later, frowning. “There are many choices left to be made, each one capable of influencing the fate of the galaxy. It is not possible at this time for me to predict our upcoming reality, let alone your consequences. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Din says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t like seeing her crestfallen expression. Fuck, he might actually consider her a friend after all.

Whatever happens, he thinks to himself, it can’t be any worse to deal with than being separated from his soulmate. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.

“The last promise I made was broken.” He bites back a wince at the memory of his angel’s pinky promise. “But if making another one is the only way you’ll take me to my soulmate, then you have my word. I won’t kill him.”

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before she grabs hold of one of his vambraces. “Take me to your ship. I will guide you to her location.”

“You don’t trust me to go alone?” he asks, unsure whether to be amused or indignant.

“No,” Ahsoka replies bluntly.

Din huffs. “Fine.”

“I may not be able to see much at the moment, but I know it’s never wise to turn down support. You’re going to need us.”

“Us?”

“It’s Bo-Katan’s choice to make, but you and I both know she’s never been one to back down from a fight. Especially once she learns Gideon is her sister’s murderer.”

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#din djarin x you #din x you #my fic #death and an angel #mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din x reader

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years

Text

Klaus Hargreeves x Reader - Kidnapped

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, blood, vulgar language, angst, hurt/comfort Word Count: 7,8K Summary: Instead of Klaus getting kidnapped by Hazel and Cha-Cha, they kidnap you. Klaus wants to find you before it’s too late. Author’s Note: I started writing this at 4 AM so keep that in mind. Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

YOUR POV

“I’ll ask you one more time, and you better answer me, because I am getting sick and tired of your games!” The masked woman yelled at you, which she and her partner had done for hours now. Their questions were ringing in your head and you were exhausted, which almost made you forget about just how terrified you felt.

“Where’s Five?” She asked you again. How many times she had done so, you weren’t sure. You had lost count after the first ten or so attempts.

Tears ran down your face as you sat there, tied down to a chair. There was a piece of tape on your mouth and it barely stuck to your skin at this point. It had been torn off a few times so the glue had dried, just like the blood on your skin.

Her partner, the man walked over to you and removed the tape, which meant you had to answer them. Shivers ran down your spine as you tried to think, think, think! If you told them anything at all, that could put Klaus and his family in danger. It was the last thing you wanted to happen. You were afraid that they would kill you soon if they didn’t get what they wanted.

“Spit it out, we don’t have all day!” The man was impatient. He wasn’t as aggressive as the woman, but terrifying nonetheless. Their masks were creepy and you knew that if you’d survive, you’d see them in your nightmares. You remembered that he was the reason you were there in the first place. The sight of him made you angry, but you didn’t express it.

“I p-promise you, I don’t know,” You whimpered quietly, afraid your answer would disappoint them and they would torture you again. They had waterboarded you earlier which had been the worst part so far. Although it felt like they were pushing you over the edge soon, you were impressed with yourself. It had been hours now and they had barely learned anything at all.

To your surprise, you didn’t get injured, at least not yet. The lady stood up straight and sighed, giving her partner a look of disappointment - you could tell, even without seeing her face.

“Bathroom, now!” She tilted her head toward the small bathroom in the motel room. Relief washed over your body when you watched them disappear from your sight. Even if it was for a moment, it meant they wouldn’t torment you.

How long had you been there?

It felt like days by now since you had been at the umbrella academy, although it had only been several hours. You had just been there with Klaus. Usually, you would have been at your apartment, but he had been at the academy with his family after their father’s death. You had been there for him through it all, which had come to no one’s surprise.

Klaus had been bathing as you had fallen asleep in his childhood bedroom. The next thing you knew, you were woken up by gunshots which had scared you. Before you had managed to escape, the man had found you. You had tried to fight him, but he was stronger and more experienced in combat. When he had grabbed you by your neck to choke you unconscious, you thought you had seen your last days. But oh how wrong you were.

They had taken you to a motel as a hostage. Why? They must’ve thought you were part of Klaus' family. You were just there for Klaus, you didn’t know anything about Five’s mysterious return or what he was up to. Not that you’d let them know. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have had a reason to keep you alive.

As they were in the bathroom, you tried to free yourself from the chair. They had tied your arms and legs down tightly and by now you could hardly feel your fingertips. No matter how hard you pulled and tugged your limbs, it didn’t do much. You were stuck and you felt hopeless. What were you supposed to do? If you yelled for help, they would certainly shoot you. They kept guns on them at all times which you had noticed.

Tears of frustration washed down your face. To keep quiet, you bit your lips together and tasted blood which made you sick to your stomach.

Were the others alright?

Was Klaus okay?

You knew that your disappearance must’ve been hard for him. He had been struggling for a while now and this wouldn’t help either of you at all. The stress must’ve been a heavy burden on his shoulders. Oh, if only you could be in his arms instead of that torturous hell you were in for now.

After another miserable attempt of freeing yourself and failing, you felt like screaming but it took every ounce of strength you had to not do that. If you wanted to survive, you had to stay focused and strong. When you felt like giving up, you only thought of Klaus and remembered what you were fighting for.

Eventually, you heard their footsteps and soon enough, the two of them were standing beside you again. You were surprised to see them without their masks. It made everything so much more real. They were people too and they were capable of hurting you and others in monstrous ways. What did they want to do with Five? You weren’t sure if you wanted the answer to that. It couldn’t be good.

As the lady stayed with you, you noticed that the man was rummaging through your stuff. You had been wearing a jacket when he found you in the hallway. After you heard the gunshots at the academy, you had tried to find Klaus and escape. You had only grabbed your jacket when you left his room. Now the man was going through your things and you wondered if he'd find anything useful.

“What were you doing with those freaks?” She changed the way she approached you. Although it was a harmless question, it worried you.

“I was visiting my friend,” You explained, giving away as little information as possible. It was hard to keep eye contact with her, but looking away would’ve made you seem like a liar, so you forced yourself to face her.

“A friend?” The man seemed doubtful. He returned to you with your wallet, holding it open to show a picture of you and Klaus that you kept in it. Seeing it made your heart swell with both affection and pain.

“Last time I checked, friends didn’t look so cosy around each other,” He glanced at the photo again. You had taken it a few years previously when you and Klaus had been to a music festival. You both had silly makeup on and you were kissing his cheek in the picture. You looked happy.

The woman glanced at it as well and after a while, she smiled. “Is he your boyfriend? Husband?”

“Does it matter?” You didn’t want to talk about Klaus. The less they knew about him, the better.

“It seems like he matters a lot to you,” She stated the obvious. By now, she could tell you were afraid of them finding out about him. But she wasn’t dumb. She already knew Klaus was important to you and she couldn’t wait to use that against you. It was all fun and games for them.

“Who is he to Five?”

The words got stuck in your throat. Suddenly, you felt just as troubled as you did a few moments ago. They were onto something and you didn’t know what to do.

“Answer me!” She snapped, making you flinch.

“Okay!” You quickly stated something to avoid further disappointing them. “He’s...he’s Five’s brother.”

“Ah,” She seemed pleased to hear that. She and her partner shared another silent look, almost like they spoke to each other with facial expressions alone. “So you’re sleeping around with Five’s brother?”

You couldn’t imagine how that was relevant to them. You didn’t feel the need to answer her.

The man grabbed your jacket and tried to find anything else from your pockets. He didn’t seem too interested in the photo anymore. The way he was acting was strange. It felt like he didn’t even want to be there, not really.

“Okay, okay,” She was thinking out loud. “What has Five been up to? You’re obviously aware of who he is so don’t play stupid with us again.”

You remembered when you heard of Five’s return. For as long as you had known Klaus, Five hadn’t been in the picture. All that you knew was that he was missing. Klaus had told you about the day it happened and how life had been afterwards.

When you learned that Five had returned, you were shocked. It was even more shocking to see him like that. He still looked like a kid! If you hadn’t been with Klaus and around the others for so long, it would’ve surely been harder to believe.

“Hello? Don’t make me break your fingers!”

You didn’t hesitate for a second that she wasn't joking around with that statement.

“I don’t know! He showed up a few days ago and he hasn’t spoken much to anyone since,” You were honest. Five had been busy ever since he returned. It was odd, but you didn’t feel like you were in a position to question his actions. After all, you barely knew him.

“Why is that?” The man had given up searching for clues in your jacket. Now he was right by his partner’s side and it worried you.

“He’s working on something but he won’t talk about it.”

“Elaborate," He demanded, making a gesture with his hand for you to keep talking.

For a moment, you tried to think. What had he been up to? You remembered how Five had needed Klaus’ help with tracking the owner of a glass eye. You had waited in the car as they were inside the lab. When they came out of there, you were so surprised to see the blood and glass on Klaus’ face that you didn’t even think about anything else that had happened. Now, a few days later, you realized it had been quite strange. What did a glass eye have to do with anything at all?

Your thoughts were interrupted when the man tilted your chair backwards, making it feel like you were about to fall. It startled you and broke your train of thoughts.

“What is he working on?” He demanded to know.

“I don’t know!” You cried now, feeling how hard your heart was beating. It felt like it was going to jump right out of your chest any moment now.

“Do you think her boyfriend is chattier than she is?” The woman turned to her partner.

They couldn’t be serious! You felt doomed when you realized that they could target Klaus next. There was no way you could let them hurt him like they were hurting you.

Although it made you feel rotten deep to your core, you decided to aid them. “Please...don’t drag him into this!”

The man put the chair down so you weren’t at risk of hitting the floor any time soon. It was a small relief that didn’t make you feel better, not really. You were about to do something you knew you’d regret.

“If you want to keep him safe, you gotta talk to us,” She explained how simple it was. It was gross to you how casually they dealing with all of this monstrosity.

Every inch of your body felt cold. You were trembling by now and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the pure terror you felt that caused it. Everything hurt and you hated yourself for being in a situation where you had to protect Klaus by giving those sick people clues as to where Five was.

“Five was looking for the owner of a glass eye,” You finally told them something. It felt like your blood turned to ice as you finished that sentence. “Last time I heard of him, he was parked in front of the lab that manufactured the fake eyes.”

The confusion on their faces didn’t surprise you. You too remember how bewildered you were when Five first mentioned the glass eye.

“A glass eye?” The man had to make sure he heard right. All you could do was nod, confirming it.

“What’s so special about a glass eye?” She inquired furthermore.

At first, you didn’t know what to say. Then all of a sudden it clicked in your mind. Five had mentioned something about the apocalypse, but you thought it was nonsense. He said that they lost their chance of saving people, and a bunch of other things which didn’t make any sense at all.

“I’m not sure, but he made it seem like the fate of the world depended on it,” You didn’t think it meant anything so you felt like sharing that information. To your horror, that seemed to make more sense to them that it did to you. It looked like a light bulb lit above the woman's head.

“Five, that son of a bitch!”

You worried that you had said something wrong. They no longer were interested in you, as they finally had a lead. You just hoped ever so dearly that Five wasn’t there anymore.

The man grabbed a new piece of tape and put it over your lips. You didn’t even try to fight it anymore. Then he grabbed the chair and started dragging you after him to the closet. “We’ll be right back,” He promised you, but you hoped it wouldn’t be true. Although being held there against your will was appalling, it wasn’t that bad when you were by yourself. At least, they couldn’t hurt you when you were alone. Just like that, he closed the doors and left you all alone in the dark. Your only company were your lonely thoughts.

They left and you were scared that you had just sent those lunatics right to Five. It made you feel so guilty like you had swallowed battery acid and it was bubbling in your stomach painfully. If miracles were real, you wished that one would happen now.

What if they’d find Five? Would they hurt him?

Of course, they would! They had been torturing you for hours just to they could find Five. Whatever they were going to do to him wasn’t going to be pretty. If they would find him, you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to forgive yourself. Now all you could do was think about worst-case scenarios.

Please be okay, you thought about all of them. As long as they would be unharmed, you’d be happy.

Klaus couldn’t remember when he had last felt so sick and anxious. Knowing that the people who had stormed into the academy and given everyone a hard time possibly had you captured was like a living nightmare for him. Klaus couldn’t believe that they had been attacked and he had hardly noticed it - until it was too late.

He hadn’t been able to sleep or let alone sit still for a second after you disappeared. Luckily, his siblings were there to help in, in their own special ways. They knew that the intruders were looking for Five, so Diego and Luther knew they had to find Five first. Not only did they want to find you, but they also wanted to protect Five from those people.

After what had felt like forever, they had found Five. He was drunk to the point of passing out, sitting in the library with that mannequin. It was a miracle they had found him at all.

Now they were taking him to Diego’s place where hopefully Five would sober up enough to help them. Dealing with his drunken brother was frustrating.

“I need you to sober up, Five!” Klaus tried to reach him, but Five looked cosy in Luther’s arms, holding onto the mannequin for dear life. Klaus was almost envious of the state Five was in, so drunk that nothing else really mattered.

“Funny you’d say that,” Five laughed nonchalantly. He didn’t seem to know what was at stake. Or perhaps he just didn't care.

“Hey I’m serious, Five! Your friends came looking for you-”

“Hazel and Cha-Cha?” Five didn’t sound too worried about it. “Of course they did.”

Luther was curious to learn their names, “How do you know them?”

Klaus couldn’t imagine how that mattered at that moment. He was impatient and the worry made him act before he could think, “They have Y/N!”

Five opened his eyes just enough to look at the dirty mannequin. “Did you hear that, Dolores?”

Was he serious? That little shit! Before Klaus would lose himself, he heard Ben’s voice, “Don’t fight him, that’s a waste of time.”

It was almost like Ben could read Klaus’ thoughts. Although he wanted to yell his frustration out at the top of his lungs or drown his worries away with something stronger than water, he couldn’t.

“Yeah but he better sober up quick,” For once, he agreed with Ben. If he wanted to find you, he couldn’t fight the only person who possibly knew where you were.

Nonetheless, it felt impossible to stay calm and collected. Every second that passed made him feel worse. Klaus didn’t want to let his mind go too far. He knew you were alive. You had to be.

They made it inside Diego’s place. As far as they were aware, no one had seen them enter. They felt somewhat safe since no one else knew about their location. The last place they wanted to be at was the academy. They couldn’t risk running into Hazel and Cha-Cha when Five was so...out of it.

Five was still sleepy, but the reality weighed in on him. He had mumbled something about Hazel and Cha-Cha earlier, and Klaus assumed they were the people who had taken you.

“It would be really helpful if you started talking, you know?” Klaus felt worse the longer they just sat there. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he was bounding his leg nervously. His body was craving a relief, but he wasn't going to get high when he had to focus on finding you. He wondered what these people wanted in the first place. What could be so important that they’d attack them and take a hostage?

Five hung his head low as he sat on the bed, feeling nauseous. But of course, before he could answer, they were interrupted. Someone was approaching the door, and Diego shushed everyone and grabbed a knife. Had Hazel and Cha-Cha found them?

Klaus stood and watched, hoping that it would be you although the odds were slim. When he heard an old man’s voice, he was greatly disappointed. It felt like he was doused in ice-cold water when he had expected something warm.

“You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I'm pressin' charges!” The man yelled at Diego. If Klaus hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve found it amusing.

“What do you want, Al?” Diego lowered his weapon. He didn’t sound too excited.

Klaus listened halfheartedly. He didn’t care about whoever this Al was. All he could think about was getting some answers out of Five as soon as he possibly could. Klaus wished that Hazel and Cha-Cha had taken him instead of you. Oh, what he’d do to be in your shoes now.

“I ain't your secretary.”

“Yeah-”

Their conversation was a big blur by now. Klaus leaned against the wall tiredly, but he didn’t want to accept how exhausted he was. “They have Y/N, you know,” He reminded Five. Sure, he mentioned it earlier, several times, but Five had been so drunk that he had probably not even registered it.

“As sad as it is for you, Klaus, it doesn’t really matter,” Five explained coldly.

What?

Even Luther seemed shocked by that, but he didn’t make a comment. He watched Klaus and wondered if he would buck heads with Five soon. Things weren’t looking too good between them right now.

Klaus couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Why would you say that?” He barely got the words out of his mouth. Frankly, he felt offended for her sake that Five didn’t think her life mattered.

Five faced Klaus and narrowed his eyes, “Because we’re all gonna die in a few days anyway! We can’t try to save your girlfriend when everyone is at risk! We don’t have time for that.”

Klaus was speechless for once. He just watched as Five rubbed his temples, trying to chase his headache away. He had mentioned the end of the world before, but Klaus didn’t think too much of it. Five had been missing for years and now he was saying a bunch of absurdity. Had it been true all along?

“Klaus!” Diego interrupted them.

“Yes?” Klaus turned around abruptly, struggling to focus on his brothers. They were always nagging and fighting, but now that he was so stressed, it was agitating.They were getting on his nerves by now. Why didn’t they care about you? Was the world actually ending? Klaus wondered if he should’ve spent the day with Allison and Vanya instead. Would they have found you by now?

“Let’s go,” Diego already made his way to the door. Usually, Diego avoided Klaus at all costs when he was leaving. This was an unexpected change of events.

Klaus didn’t hesitate as he followed Diego, completely ignoring Luther who offered to stay behind and accompany Five, “Wait! Wait, where are we going?”

“I think I know where she is,” Diego explained seriously.

Those words were like music to Klaus’ ears. A glimmer of hope sparked in his heart and he almost lost his breath. Finally, some good news!

“Wait...how?” Klaus was struggling to find the right words. The idea of finding you left him astonished.

“Patch has been looking into these lunatics, Hazel and Cha-Cha. She called me about a location and said she found someone,” Diego was convinced it was you. Who else would it be?

“Holy shit,” Klaus replied in disbelief, feeling a knot in his stomach. "You're not joking, right?" He didn’t want to be convinced it was you only to not find you in the end. Could she really have found you?

“Well, Patch told Al she found someone’s girlfriend and I don't know who else it could be,” Diego explained right as he opened the car door.

Although it wasn’t certain, Klaus felt oddly hopeful. Quickly, he climbed into the car as well so they wouldn’t waste more time. The entire ordeal with Five had been just a mess and waste of time, or so it seemed like.

Klaus knew that life often found a way to say ‘fuck you’, no matter how good things seemed. So for now, Klaus just tried to stay calm and told himself to expect the worst. They still didn’t know what condition they would find you in and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to think too much about it.

“Hey,” Ben had followed them, which wasn’t a surprise. “She’ll be fine,” He sounded oddly optimistic. He was certain that you had been found. Everything would be much better once you and Klaus would be reunited yet again.

“I sure hope so,” Klaus sighed nervously. He didn’t know what he’d do if anything bad happened to you.

You couldn’t believe your luck when the door opened and you saw a familiar face. Eudora had found you! How? You didn’t know but it wasn’t the time to ask. Tears of joy stung your eyes when she released you from the bonds that had kept you there for so long. The blood flowed back into your fingers felt amazing, although it caused a tingly sensation.

She ordered you to hide as she made her way further inside the crappy motel room. As quietly as you could, you did as told. She pointed the gun toward the end of the room as you crawled on the floor. The ventilation system caught your eye. It wasn’t even closed properly because one of your captors had hidden something in there.

Once you opened it, you saw a briefcase. It was odd that they’d hide it, so you assumed that it was important or valuable. You grabbed it to take it out of your way and that’s when you heard a loud gunshot which hurt your ears. Your heart leapt to your throat and you looked behind you, seeing the woman with a smoking gun by the door. She walked further inside and to your horror, you saw Eudora’s body on the floor. She had been shot right in the back!

You almost screamed out in shock and pain, but you managed to drown it. Tears escaped your eyes, rolling down your face uncontrollably. They had shot her as she was saving you.

No, no, no

This was bad

Were they going to kill you too?

Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you going. You knew you had to run if you wanted to survive. Although it physically pained you to leave her behind, you didn’t think you had much of a choice if you wanted to live. The door was wide open and you bolted for it. Seconds later, they were after you.

“Stop!” The man yelled at you and you heard his footsteps coming closer and closer. Why didn’t he shoot you?

You held onto the briefcase tighter as you ran down the stairs, almost falling over because you were so dizzy. Thankfully, the railing kept you from flying to the ground. At the bottom of the stairs, you heard another gunshot. A bullet hit the ground right next to your feet which made you jump, startled by the loud noise. It had missed you, so you assumed it had been a warning shot.

They stood at the top of the stairs and they both had guns aimed at you. The sight of them and their weapons made you freeze on the spot in fear. Was this it?

“Drop the briefcase!” The guy wanted it back.

Quickly thinking, you decided to use it as a shield. It was the only thing keeping them from shooting you. What was so precious about it that they couldn’t risk losing it?

“If I drop it, you’ll just shoot me!” You weren’t a fool. There had to be another way out of this.

Standing there made you feel like a deer in headlights. The other motel residents had heard the gunshots but no one was opening doors, which was good for them. The blinds were drawn shut so they could either hide or continue with their lives as if nothing unusual was going on. Had someone called for help?

You wondered how Eudora was holding up. You were afraid the bullet wound had been fatal. The thought of her dying in there, alone, was breaking your heart.

“Fuck it,” The woman knew they couldn’t stand there and wait. They needed to get on the move, but they also needed the briefcase. She narrowed her eyes and tried to get a good aim at you. You didn’t doubt she’d find it. After all, the briefcase could only shield you so much.

“Drop it or I’ll shoot!” She gave you one last warning. The gun was loaded and her finger was on the trigger, ready to pull it any moment now.

What you did next was risky, but you panicked. You threw the briefcase in the other direction as hard as you could and then ran, disappearing behind the cars in the parking lot. She shot at you, but you assumed she must’ve missed. They ran after the briefcase that was making bizarre sounds and you had your chance to escape.

You lowered your body on the cold, hard ground and crawled behind a car, sitting in front of the back tires so they couldn’t see you from underneath it.

It was dark outside and only half of the streetlights were functioning, you that kept you somewhat hidden. As you sat there with your back leaning against the car, you noticed that your body was trembling. You were terrified that they would find you and hunt you down like an animal. After everything you had been through, you didn’t want it to end like this. You thought about Klaus and felt like sobbing, but you had to force yourself to be quiet. Finally, the reality of everything was beginning to hit you. It was so hard to believe you had gone through that agony and you were still alive.

A car engine roared further away and you just had to look. The woman was behind the wheel, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Something was burning on the ground further away. It looked like the briefcase. How had it set on fire?

The sound of a gun being loaded startled you. You tilted your head to your side and saw the man standing right in front of you. He was going to shoot you. You could’ve sworn that your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, so close with a gun in his hand and you were staring into the barrel hole. There was barely a meter of distance between you two.

“Please…” A silent pledge was the only thing you could say. The fear had paralyzed your body.

He held onto the gun tighter and clenched his jaw. Why did he look so troubled?

Suddenly, he aimed the gun a little further away from you and pulled the trigger. Once again, the loud bang hurt your ears. Your arms quickly tried to cover your body in self-defense. For a moment, you wondered if he had shot you, but you didn't feel any pain. You blinked a few times and then stared at the spot on the ground he had shot. It confused you.

“Don’t move until we’re gone,” He demanded quietly and glanced at his partner who was waiting for him in the car. Then just like that, he walked away in a hurry.

You sat there in shock and disbelief. He had an opportunity to kill you, but he hadn’t. Why did he spare your life?

Once you heard them driving away from the motel, you felt so relieved. With trembling hands, you covered your face so you could muffle your cries of both joy and horror. Everything felt so surreal and you were overwhelmed with emotions.

But what mattered was that you were alive.

Then you remembered Eudora, who was still in the motel room. Immediately, you felt guilt building up in your heart. Sure, she had been working, but she had been shot as she was saving you. Now that the two kidnappers were gone, you felt safe enough to consider returning to Eudora. She needed your help because so far, it seemed like no one else was coming for her.

As you stood up again, you felt a sharp pain in your leg which made you draw in a sharp breath. You leaned against the car once more and then looked down, only to see fresh blood all over your lower leg, oozing out of a wound you didn’t notice until now. Even in the dark, you could make out how crimson red it was. The bullet had scraped your leg and now it stung like hell. It could’ve been worse, but it didn't make it any less horrific. Why did it hurt so bad once you had seen it?

In a state of shock, you forced yourself up on your feet, using the car for support. You didn’t care that your blood got smeared over the fine polish. You were more worried about the stairs you had to walk up if you wanted to reach Eudora.

Another car drove up to the scene, and for a moment you feared that they had returned. Without hesitating, you lowered yourself on the ground and hid behind the car as well as you could. Why did they come back? Did the man change his mind about you?

You heard two sets of footprints and they were running. That’s when you dared to peek at them from the side of the car. The sight of the people was almost too good to be true. You saw Klaus and Diego rushing to the stairs together. It didn’t matter how and why they were there. The only thing that mattered was that your kidnappers hadn’t returned and now you could see that Klaus was alright.

“Klaus!” You called out his name as tears washed down your face. Knowing that he was alright made you so happy.

Klaus heard your voice and he turned around quickly, letting Diego continue whatever it was that he was doing. At first, Klaus didn’t see you and he wondered if he had started hearing things. But then he saw you crawling into sight from behind a car.

“Holy shit,” Klaus couldn’t believe his eyes. Seeing you alive was like a dream come true, but his joy was short-lived. He saw your injuries and the blood trail you left behind you as you tried to stand up. Quickly, he made his way to you before you’d fall and get hurt even more.

“Oh god, please be okay,” Klaus wished dearly that you weren’t hurt too bad. The world around him was spinning and it felt like everything was caving in. By the looks of it, he believed you'd be alright.

Once Klaus reached you, you more or less threw yourself into his arms, needing to be close to him. Klaus hugged you tightly and finally, he let out a breath he had been holding in. His hand cradled your back and eventually the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You were very much real and it made him feel ever so relieved.

Klaus grabbed your face gently just so he could see you properly. Immediately, he noticed the tears that had mixed with dry blood on your cheeks and the bruises that had formed, which broke his heart. Klaus couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that someone was capable of harming someone as precious as you. It was so wicked.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You couldn’t let him blame himself for what had happened, “I’m okay, I’m okay Klaus,” You reassured him. Sure, you had suffered from injuries and the events would haunt you for a long time, but it could've been worse. You were alive, but you weren’t so sure about Eudora.

Klaus quickly searched you for more wounds. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, since it was hard to find your words. It was truly a miracle that you were in his arms again.

“I was so worried,” He admitted to you, nearly choking on his tears. He still felt as if he was on edge. The danger was far from over but at least he had you. Tears of relief escaped his emerald eyes and he didn’t care that you could see he was crying.

He was just so relieved to hold you again. The moment was emotional for both of you. For a moment, he almost forgot about everything else. But of course, no bliss could last too long. Sirens wailed in the background and they were coming closer at an alarming rate. Klaus looked ahead in the distance and saw the blue lights nearing them.

“We...we gotta go!” Diego’s broken voice caught their attention. He had blood on his hands and tears in his eyes that threatened to spill any moment now. He looked miserable, to say the least.

“What about-” Klaus wondered, but he was cut off.

“She’s gone,” Diego didn’t want to waste any more time. He knew that if they stayed there for a second too long, they would look like suspects. Besides, they had no time to waste with the police when they had to stop the apocalypse - which was coming, according to Five. As much as it shattered Diego’s heart, he knew he couldn’t stay there. You all had to leave the scene.

With their help, you got into the car. Klaus joined you in the backseat and Diego drove off.

Being alone with Klaus after everything that had happened felt surreal. Everything was on repeat on your mind, like a broken record, as you sat in Diego’s bathroom in silence. Diego, Luther and Five were arguing on the other side of the wall, but you paid little attention to it. You had overheard them mentioning the masked people’s names. You knew now that Hazel and Cha-Cha were the ones responsible for everything.

You sat on the closed toilet seat as Klaus was washing your wounds. He was holding a wet towel that he used to wash your face with ever so gently. When he dabbed it against your bruised cheek, you tried not to react. It didn’t hurt too much, it just stung against the cuts.

Klaus couldn’t stop picturing how this had happened. With every blink of his eyes, he saw them hurting you and it made him so nauseated and furious. You didn’t deserve to be hurt, and for what? Just because you happened to be around his family. Klaus was considering leaving you so nothing like this could happen again, but there was no way he would have the strength to do that now. When he looked at you, he felt his heart aching madly. Why did loving someone have to hurt so much?

Neither of you knew what to say. It was rare that you and Klaus were both at a loss of words. At that moment, speaking was just too hard. You were afraid that one word would break you and push you into a breakdown.

He had washed your leg wound which had stung madly, but after the pain you had endured in the past day or so, it wasn’t too bad.

Now he had to stitch it up, which was going to hurt. Klaus was trying to get the thread in the eye of the needle, but his hands were trembling so much that he couldn’t get it through. After several failed attempts, he grew frustrated and then dropped the needle and thread on the floor.

“Hey,” You noticed that he wasn’t doing too good. Seeing him like that made you feel awful and all you wanted was to hold him. Since your wounds were clean now and the bleeding had stopped, there wasn’t a rush to stitch it up. Carefully, you slid off the seat and sat down on the bathroom floor with him. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

“I thought...I thought I’d lost you,” Klaus admitted. When he saw the mess Hazel and Cha-Cha had caused, and how they had put up a struggle against his siblings, he had immediately wanted to find you. Klaus had searched the entire place without stopping for a moment, desperately trying to find you hidden somewhere. When he had to accept the fact you weren’t there, it had been devastating.

You grabbed his trembling hands into your own. His were warmer than yours and it felt good to just hold him. Gently, you brought his knuckles to your lips and kissed his skin tenderly.

“You didn’t lose me, Klaus,” You reassured him, “I’m right here.”

Only you seemed to know how to make him feel better. Klaus nodded and tried to focus on the present. He wanted to cherish the fact that you were safe from harm for now.

Klaus scooted over so he was now sitting right next to you, which allowed you to lean against his body. The moment he wrapped his long arms around you, it felt like your body just collapsed. All the fear, the pain and exhaustion finally took a toll on you and you felt incapable of moving away from him. As much as it had scarred you, you were so glad to be alive and in Klaus’ arms. His oh-so-familiar scent filled your lungs, which made it all so much more true. You were safe. You were really there, right by Klaus' side where you were the happiest.

You held onto Klaus a little tighter, afraid that he’d vanish into thin air and you’d open your eyes, only to wake up in the motel room again. The thought alone was enough to make you feel unwell.

“They wanted to hurt you,” You whispered as you remembered their threat. Hazel and Cha-Cha were still out there and you were scared they would hunt you down again. They were still looking for Five, right?

Klaus was puzzled as he heard that. “Me? Why?”

“They found a picture of us,” You recalled. That’s when the guilt you felt doubled. Not only had you put Klaus and his family in danger, but you felt like you had led Eudora to her death. “They said that if I didn’t tell them where Five was, they would get the answers from you.”

“That wouldn’t have been your fault,” Klaus could tell how you were feeling. He had known you long enough to tell. “Besides, if they had found me, I would’ve given them a taste of their own medicine,” He attempted to make you feel better. You could only imagine what he meant by that and you had to admit that Klaus would’ve found a way to get under their skin. But the idea of him getting hurt because of you was too painful. You tried to avoid the thoughts of what-ifs and all that.

“What if they find us again?” You wondered quietly.

“I’m sure Five has a plan or something,” Klaus tried to sound confident. Five seemed to be several steps ahead of them, but then again terrible things had already happened.

Klaus was drawing small patterns on your skin, being careful not to hurt you. He was yet to see the true extent of the torture they had put you through, but he would soon. He'd have to stitch your wound before you could take a bath together. Usually, Klaus loved bathing with you because you could be so close with one another. It was quite domestic and fun when you were in a good mood. But this time, the thought was dreadful. He wondered how many bruises were hiding under your bloody clothes.

Right now, he just wanted to comfort you which in return helped him unwind. He too couldn’t help but wonder if Hazel and Cha-Cha would find everyone, but he wasn’t going to feed that fear and make you worry about it.

You just needed to stay calm and possibly get some rest. There wasn’t too much you could do about Hazel and Cha-Cha at that point anyway, especially not in your current state.

After a while, you felt like dozing off against him, but you knew you couldn’t sleep on Diego’s bathroom floor. Or could you? Did it matter?

You closed your eyes and tried to listen to what they were talking about in the other room. By the sounds of it, Diego had left. You could only hear Luther and Five talking. Was Diego trying to find the people who had killed Eudora?

“Poor Diego,” You opened your eyes so you didn’t have to remember the gruesome sight of Patch’s body on the dirty carpet floor. You couldn’t believe she was gone.

Klaus didn’t know what to say, but he agreed with you. He felt bad for Diego and the detective. What had been so important that Hazel and Cha-Cha had done all of these things?

A knock on the bathroom door surprised you. You tried to hide your face by hugging Klaus a little tighter as Five walked in. You didn’t want him to see you like that.

“Oh hey,” Klaus didn’t sound too enthusiastic about being interrupted.

“How are you?” Five sounded genuinely concerned. He stood there with his hands in his pockets and he took in the sight of you and Klaus being huddled together on the floor. He saw the needle and thread on the floor as well, not too far away from you, and assumed things hadn't gone quite as planned in there.

Klaus sighed deeply. He remembered what Five had said earlier about how little you mattered. “So now you care about her, huh?”

“Yes, Klaus!” Five stated like it was obvious, “I never said I didn’t. My priorities are just different than yours right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Klaus felt a headache forming as he thought about the alleged apocalypse that was coming. He had almost lost you once, so the idea of losing you in just a few days was awful. Why was life so cruel?

You were beyond exhausted at that point, but their conversation caught your curiosity. Quickly, you wiped your cold tears away and looked at Five from the safety of Klaus’ embrace.

“I’m okay,” You didn’t want to complain. After all, you could be dead by now so you tried so hard to focus on the positives. “Why were they looking for you?” You wanted to know.

Five didn’t look too happy about that. “I wasn’t kidding about the end of the world,” He told you with a straight face. “They probably want to kill me so I can’t stop it.”

“Why would they want to end the world?” Klaus asked what you were thinking.

“It’s a long story,” Five had just told Luther everything. He was going to tell Klaus more about it eventually but now wasn’t the time. “Y/N, did you happen to see briefcases with Hazel and Cha-Cha?”

“Yeah, why?” You were a little bit confused and tired. Had they stolen something from Five?

“Would you happen to know where these briefcases are?” Five knew that they should carry them with them at all times, but he had overheard Hazel complaining about his wrist hurting and that he didn’t feel like carrying it everywhere. Even if there was a tiny chance that Hazel kept it locked somewhere, Five wanted to find out.

“No, they took them with them when they drove off,” You explained shortly. “I think one of them broke.”

“It broke?!”

“I threw it away and it made weird noises and then later I saw it burning,” You explained what you remembered. When it had hit the ground, it almost sounded like a toaster had exploded, but then again you had heard a gunshot as well that had been quite distracting. The briefcase hadn’t interested you too much when you were running away in the other direction, scared for your life.

Five seemed frustrated, but he tried not to take it out on anyone. “Well whatever, it was worth a shot,” And just like that, he walked away, shutting the door behind him. Had you done something wrong?

A few seconds passed before Klaus broke the silence, “Don’t care about him. He’s just...well he’s just being his usual Five self. Who knows what he’s up to.”

You tried to seek comfort in his words. Frankly, you felt too exhausted to care too much about the briefcase.

A yawn was drawn from your lips which didn’t go unnoticed by Klaus. Neither Klaus nor you could stay awake for much longer. It had been a long day and you needed sleep, whether you liked it or not.

“Tired?” He asked, which was a foolish question. He already knew the answer.

“A little bit,” You admitted.

Klaus wondered if it was safe for you to return to the academy. Last time you two had been there, Hazel and Cha-Cha had attacked the place and kidnapped you. Then he thought of your apartment, which wasn’t too far away. Would it be any safer?

“Do you think Diego will mind if we crash on his bed for a while?” Klaus thought of the easiest option. Diego had left and if he knew his brother at all, he wasn’t coming back in a while either.

There was only one way to find out.

A/N: Why is it so hard to end one-shots? Anyway, if you made it so far, I would love to hear your feedback! Thanks for reading 💚

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#Klaus Hargreeves #Klaus Hargreeves x Reader #Klaus Hargreeves x f!reader #Klaus x Reader #TUA #The umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #Klaus Hargreeves x You #Klaus Hargreeves x Y/N #umbrella academy x you

277 notes · View notes

hey-hamlet · 4 years

Note

Catch me laying flat on the ground thinking about All Might thinking for so long that Nana saw something in him, that every hurt he went through, everything she subjected him to, was to better him and make him Worth something as a quirkless boy and growing to realize she only chose him because he was so easily molded into the forms she wanted and him being Terrified of doing that to Izuku. All the overly assured and projected "I'm doing this so you don't get hurt, you're not failing" and aaaaa

All Might treats Izuku like he’s made of glass and for a while Izuku is convinced it’s because he’s quirkless. He actually snaps at All Might one day while training after a rough day at school - he back pedals instantly, begging him not to leave, that he’s sorry.

Toshinori just smiles sadly. “I was quirkless too.” He watched the teary eyes of his successor bloom in understanding, a smile starting to crinkle at the corners. “I never meant to hurt you, my boy.”

“I’m tougher thank I look, promise!” Toshinori grinned at his boy’s declarations, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair. Izuku let the hand connect, flustered at the positive attention. Something cold gripped his chest as he thought about just how much sway he had over his boy without even meaning to. He dropped his hand.

“I know. I’m just -” He let himself breathe. Maybe a bit of the truth wouldn’t hurt. Not enough to worry his boy, but maybe enough for him to understand just why Toshinori was so scared. “My mentor. She - she wasn’t very kind to me. It took me a long time to see it. I just don’t want to hurt you like she hurt me.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, half-forgotten tears welling up again. “She hurt you? Thats - thats not fair! You would have been my age, right? Thats horrible!” He reached an arm out for Toshinori’s shirt. He leaned in, his boy curling his fingers into the loose fabric, hiding his face in the folds. It made Toshinori’s chest ache. “I won’t let her do it again.” His voice was thick with tears but the sheer conviction in it almost made Toshinori shake.

“She’s - she's gone, my boy.” Izuku shook his head, looking up at him with determined eyes.

“Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean she can’t still hurt you. But I’m here now and I won’t let her, ok?” Izuku tugged gently on his shirt, looking all the world like a little hero. Something broke in Toshinori’s heart, both joyful and sad. How had Nana ever done it - looking down at his successor he knew right then and there he’d kill for the boy.

She’d never thought that about him.

Toshinori wiped his eyes, schooling his facial expression back into a smile. It must have been shakey but his boy returned it, bright as the sun. “Right! No more slacking off to the tales of an old man. If you think you can take more training then I’ll just have to take that plan of yours Plus Ultra!”

“Yes sir! Wait - you aren’t old!”

“I’m dying of old age right now waiting for you to start moving!”

“Ok ok - I’m going!”

#my fic #dont praise the seventh #dont praise the all mighty #bnha au #asks

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sk1fanfiction · 3 years

Text

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities.

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #albus dumbledore

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debbiechanclub · 3 years

Text

Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1

The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!

Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.

So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Know You Better Now

Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @heelchampbucks @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing

Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”

She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.

“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.

Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.

“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.

Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.

“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.

“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”

She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”

“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”

The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.

It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”

“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”

Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.

“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”

She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.

Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.

But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.

Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.

“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”

She frowned. “Kenny—”

“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”

Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.

But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.

Least of all Trent.

Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.

“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”

He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.

“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”

His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”

Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.

It was the potential consequences that worried her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.

“How are you? You look incredible!”

“Is your shoulder cleared?”

“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”

“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”

And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.

“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”

“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”

“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”

“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”

Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.

Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.

“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.

She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—

“Alex?!”

She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.

“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.

“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”

She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”

Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.

“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”

Alex breathed a laugh—

“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”

Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”

She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.

“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”

Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”

And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”

Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.

“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”

Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”

He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.

But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.

“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.

“Get a room!”

Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”

Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.

“We’re up, Ken.”

Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”

He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.

“How do I look?” he asked her.

She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”

He grinned, cocky.

They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.

Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”

Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”

“Or he was,” Nick interjected.

“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”

He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.

She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”

He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”

They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.

“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.

It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.

Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”

He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.

This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.

PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.

Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.

Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.

Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”

But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Go get one of my belts in case.”

Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”

But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.

Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.

All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.

“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.

“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”

She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.

Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.

Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.

Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.

Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.

She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.

Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.

The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.

But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.

Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.

Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.

Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.

Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.

One.

Two—

But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.

One.

Two.

Three.

That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.

She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.

She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #orange cassidy fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #chuck taylor fanfiction #kris statlander fanfiction

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ezrisdax-archive · 3 years

Text

krantt

for #trilogyappreciationweek, with thanks to @wlwkiranerys and @rannochs for being my sound board.

The one where Wrex doesn’t adopt Tali (except he kinda does) also here on ao3

Everyone on the Normandy was young to Wrex. The thing about being a Krogan was that it gave you a different perspective on age. Excluding the Asari, all species burnt out bright and quick to him. But even Liara was just a kid to him, not even 200 yet.

From what he knew about Quarians however Tali was young to them too. He'd met a few Quarians on pilgrimages before; their version of the Rite of Passage from what he gathered. Except with less Thrasher maws.

Well there was one on the planet they'd gotten a distress beacon from. That probably counted.

But unlike the Rite of Passage you did it alone; not a krantt to rely on like Krogans had. Seemed lonely.

So Wrex may have decided somewhere after that mission to keep an eye on the young Quarian. She wasn't so bad. Understood all his grumbling about the Council and the bullshit they put his species through.

Though at least his species hadn't released an intelligent robot race onto the galaxy that now worshipped some old machine.

Still Tali was okay.

She just had to remain alive to be okay.

Wrex sighed as he watched her clean her shotgun. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, scratching lightly with his gloves.

"Where'd you learn how to fire that anyway?" He asked.

Tali jumped at his voice, the light in her helmet that indicated she was talking lit up when she yelped.

"Wrex! Don't sneak up on me!" Tali scolded but then her shoulders fell like she expected a scolding of her own.

Wrex merely stared.

"I..." Tali began, her nervousness coming through her tone even without facial expressions to go off on. "My father taught me. He's an Admiral." There was a touch of reverence and regret in her voice. "As his daughter I was expected to learn. Our ship could have been boarded by Geth at any moment."

Wrex hummed, loudly enough it echoed in the quiet cargo bay. Thankfully it was late enough most of the crew was asleep.

"Makes sense." He inclined his head a little in acknowledgement. "Guess the Quarians would have reason to know all that."

"We may not be the Krogan but we've seen our fair share of battles. You've seen me fight, I can handle myself." Tali practically bristled from where she sat, angry and petulant. Wrex wondered idly how many times she'd been forced to prove herself to others that it was this touchy a subject.

"Didn't say you couldn't. Could use a few tricks though."

Tali paused, caught off guard. "Oh? Like what?" If she was trying to aim for casual she failed. The curiosity shone through and her leg bounced like she could hardly contain herself.

Wrex huffed in amusement and then pulled out his own shotgun.

"Lemme show you." He said and aimed at Garrus' locker. The shot fired and he reloaded with ease, firing off another shot a second later.

Tali was up in an instant, "How did you reload so fast?" She asked in one breath, the words blending together.

Wrex chuckled, "Old trick I learned. Here, watch the wrist, keep an eye on my right finger."

"I'm not sure Garrus would like us using his locker for practice." Tali said even as she inched closer to do what he'd asked.

"Oh no an upset Turian. I'm real broken up about that." Wrex's voice was as dry as ever and Tali snorted in amusement. "Now come on, I don't got all night."

Tali stepped closer still and watched carefully as Wrex did the trick over again.

"Does anyone know what happened to my locker?" Garrus asked the next morning and Tali choked on her drink.

She'd procured straws from somewhere though Wrex wasn't sure where.

"No idea." Tali said a moment after, clearing her throat.

"Maybe someone got tired of elevator conversations." Wrex suggested, leaning back in his chair with a toothy grin.

"Point taken." Garrus grumbled, "You could have just said so. Now I'll have to spend the morning replacing my locker door."

"I'll help." Tali offered and she sounded guilty. She was fidgeting again in her seat, a telling trait.

Garrus stared at Wrex who just stared back, the grin still on his face.

“Fine. Thanks Tali. I suppose that’s about all I can ask for.” Garrus was still looking at Wrex.

He rolled his eyes. “Look Garrus, you want a favour come right out and ask it.”

Garrus made an indignant noise. “I don’t think it’s a favour if I’m asking for help to fix something you wrecked.”

“Allegedly.” Wrex said and shifted in his seat just a little so his shotgun was in view.

Garrus took the warning and fled, muttering about Krogan as he did.

“Is that how Krogan always end a conversation? Showing off a shotgun?” Tali asked.

“Nah, usually there’s more bloodshed.”

“And it’s not even noon.”

“Give it time.”

Tali was back in the cargo bay that night and while she’d set up one of the targets that was officially there for practicing she wasn’t firing at it but struggling with the reloading trick Wrex had been showing her.

“Any luck?”

Tali jumped at the sound of his voice again and turned to face him. “You know for someone so large you’re very light on your feet.”

“Large?” Wrex shot back, “Something you want to say to me, Quarian?”

“No.” Tali said quickly. “Um, just, you know. You are a Krogan and I haven’t met many but they are all large and-”

“Relax, kid.” Wrex cut off her rambling before it went on too long. “I knew what you meant.”

“Oh.” Tali sighed with relief and then her shoulders shot back up. “I’m not a kid you know.”

“Everyone’s a kid to me on here.” Wrex waved off her concern. “When you live as long as I have it happens.”

“Ah.” Tali said. “I suppose that would happen. I can’t imagine living for hundreds of years, you must be old to the Krogan though.”

“First I’m large, now I’m old?” Wrex snorted. “You sure know how to flatter someone.”

He couldn’t see it but he was willing to bet under his mask Tali was cringing.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep anyway?” Wrex asked.

Tali shifted on her feet, “I can’t. It’s too quiet. Quarian ships are rather full, here it’s…” She trailed off but the fact that nothing could be heard around them, not even the hum of the engines, told Wrex everything.

Suddenly the ship felt empty and, he was sure from Tali’s perspective, lonely.

Wrex sighed, the weight of responsibility falling on him.

“You know I’m not the oldest Krogan by a long shot.” Wrex finally said, sitting down on one of the crates next to them. “There’s this ancient guy, Drack. Comes from Clan Nakmor, they’re not as big as Clan Urdnot of course but there’s a lot of them. Somehow this guy survived the Krogan Rebellions.”

“Really?” Tali asked, taking the seat next to him and crossing her legs and setting her shotgun down next to her. “I didn’t think any Krogan had survived since then.”

“There’s a few still around, some of us are just hard to kill.”

“Like you?”

“Anything that can kill me deserves it. If it can get to me first.”

“But there’s so much of you to shoot.” Tali said and her voice was teasing.

“Is this how Quarian’s live as long as they do? By being so small nothing can hit them?” Wrex asked drily.

“Hey!”

“Course one lucky shot and you’re gone. Lacking redundant systems must suck. That guy, Drack, had most of his replaced. Pretty sure he’s only still alive because Kesh would kill him otherwise.” Wrex had met Kesh a few times, once thought of her as the runt of a litter like most had. Then she’d punched him in the face and stolen his equipment from his camp. That was the thing about underestimating people, they could always surprise you.

Wrex glanced over at Tali who was swaying a little where she sat, clearly tired.

“That and he had his krantt back in the Krogan rebellions.”

“What’s a krantt?” Tali asked and then yawned loud enough Wrex could hear her jaw crack even through the helmet.

“Hard to explain it to outsiders.” Wrex admitted, grumbling a little that he felt the need to even explain it. “They’re your allies, ones you can rely on even more than family. They’ll be there to watch your back, like in the Rite of Passage.”

His krantt had died when his father betrayed him and had them all murdered before him. Wrex got his revenge but the wound was still there.

“So like Shepard.” Tali said sleepily, her helmet knocked against Wrex’s shoulders. “And you and the squad.”

“Not the same.” Wrex replied, shifting a little and if that was more comfortable to Tali to rest against him that was no one’s business but his own. “Though maybe Shepard might count.”

Wrex was coming around to her.

“Guess the rest of you aren’t so bad for aliens.” He admitted begrudgingly after the silence dwelled on them for too long.

Tali was out however, a soft hiss from her filter filled the air every time she breathed out.

“Some of you could get better aim though.” Wrex continued on in the dark of the cargo bay, letting his voice take up the empty space. “Don’t know how you lived this long. Not that us Krogan can talk with the genophage running around. Nothing left on Tuchanka even worth saving…”

“Your ancestors wore that?” Tali asked in disbelief, staring at the armor Shepard had recovered for Wrex. He couldn’t see it but was willing to bet her face was scrunched up in disgust.

“I don’t think a Quarian is allowed to give me advice on a suit.” Wrex deadpanned, moving the armor to sit at his feet.

They’d had another session of training, Tali was really coming along with the reloading trick.

Then she’d asked him about the mission he went on that day with Shepard and Liara and he’d reluctantly pulled the armor out of the box he’d set it in.

“I think a Quarian is probably the best option for that.” Tali shot back. “We do spend our lives in them after all. It doesn’t hurt to make them look good.”

“Then what happened to yours?” Wrex asked and tried not to laugh as Tali turned her head at him in what was certainly a glare.

“I have a shotgun.” Tali warned him.

“Try that excuse on the Turian, not on me.” Wrex said and let out another booming laugh.

“You’re right,” Tali said, her voice too chipper to be real, “I’d never make it past all your layers with one shot.”

Wrex broke out in a loud laugh. “You’ve got quads, Quarian.”

“I have a name.” Tali said, all hints of laughter chased from her tone.

“Yeah yeah, not bad.” He paused and inclined his head. “Tali.”

The pleased smug smile she was wearing was obvious even if it couldn’t be seen.

“Too bad you still need to practice your shots.” He couldn’t help but add.

Tali huffed and grabbed her gun and without hesitation fired it at the training dummy. She flicked her wrist and reloaded with the shell she had in her hand already and fired again in only seconds.

Wrex watched with something that might have even been pride.

“What was that?” Tali asked, her voice a little high pitched as the noises continued around them like nothing they’d ever heard before.

Noveria was not a place Wrex had ever cared to visit and he doubted he’d have any better memories of it now.

“Probably debris.” He said, his eyes darting everywhere trying to find the cause of it. “Don’t have a panic attack, I’ll protect you.”

The swarmers came out from nowhere under their feet and Shepard cursed.

Wrex fired his shotgun though it might have been easier to just squish the bugs under his feet rather than fire at them.

“Keelah,” Tali swore as they encroached further towards her. She scrambled back and nearly fell but Wrex shot out an arm to grab and steady her.

“It’s not over yet.” Wrex yelled and fired off another shot as the swarmers came closer.

“I’m going to have nightmares from this.” Tali muttered, Wrex only just close enough to hear it.

“At least you’ll live through it to have them.” Wrex said and kicked a swarmer that came close. It went flying and splattered against the walls.

Next to him he heard Tali reload and fire her shotgun over and over again.

Tali was fiddling with something on her omnitool when Wrex arrived that week, this time when he called her name she didn’t jump but looked up and nodded her head at him.

“Wrex.” She said, “Sorry but I’m a little busy tonight.”

Wrex shrugged. “No skin off my back, this have something to do with the data Shepard got?” He nodded at the omnitool in Tali’s hand.

Ever since she and Kaidan had come back from a mission on geth intel she’d been invested in it. Hadn’t even come up to eat with the group.

“I’m planning on taking this back to the fleet to complete my pilgrimage – when this is all over of course.” Tali said, so fast Wrex could barely make it out. Her leg was bouncing in her excitement again. “This data could help us plan against the geth! I’m trying to get a headstart into deciphering it.”

“Not bad for an Admiral’s daughter, bet he’d be proud.” Unlike his father.

Wrex never was the conventional enough Krogan for him.

Because they’d spent so many months fighting side by side Wrex had gotten good at telling Tali’s body language even if he couldn’t see her face. So he could tell it’d fallen a little at that remark.

“I hope he is.” Tali said wistfully. “I was worried about going back to the fleet with nothing much to show.”

“And now you’ll show you helped stopped an invasion and picked up some random data along the way.” Wrex sat down next to her and groaned like it was an annoyance to him. He stretched out, his foot nudging Tali’s. “Bet other Quarians can’t say the same.”

“No.” Tali brightened, her back straightening. “They can’t.”

Wrex grunted and fell back. “Wake me up when you decide it’s time to do something practical like shoot at something though.”

“This is practical!” Tali said hotly, “You saw how far the Geth have advanced, with this data we could see if there’s a pattern to where they’re coming out of the Veil and-”

Wrex let Tali’s words wash over him and shut his eyes.

They lost Kaidan on Virmire and everyone was a little more withdrawn, a little angrier, and more than a little ready to end it.

“I’ve lost friends before,” Tali admitted that night. “But not like this.”

Wrex didn’t say anything. Keeping quiet even as Tali curled up at his side with the hiss of her filter staticky in her held back sobs filling the air.

Krantt weren’t supposed to die like that.

Good thing his fellow squad members weren’t krantt.

It helped him sleep that night for what little he did get.

He was never one for emotional goodbyes or just goodbyes period.

Which is why when Wrex left the Normandy he did it by only telling Shepard and leaving one thing behind.

Shotguns were nice and all but if he was about to try to sit in a room and make peace with a bunch of clan idiots then it wouldn’t do him any good.

Tali would put it to better use.

It took two years before he saw someone from the Normandy’s crew again but Shepard was standing right there on Tuchanka.

He clasped her arm and squeezed, trying to convey his relief at seeing Shepard again.

To Shepard’s right he heard a cough and looked over to see Tali.

“Good to see you too, Wrex.” Tali said and Wrex squinted at her. She looked roughly the same, maybe a little taller and bigger. Her suit had changed a little, looked fancier from what he could tell.

The shotgun at her hip was more than little familiar to him.

“Shepard got you caught up in her mess again, hunh?”

“Had to pick Tali up from a planet, she needed a little help.” Shepard said and grinned at the both of them.

“Always getting into trouble.” Wrex intoned.

“At least I’m getting out.” Tali said, crossing her arms. “You seemed to have gotten even bigger just sitting on your throne.”

The throne in question stung a little for Wrex. He hadn’t really wanted it, symbolically or literally. His brother put together the stones to shape that way more as a mockery and bitter anger he hadn’t gotten the title or respect Wrex had.

He grunted and Tali must have noticed she struck a nerve because she uncrossed her arms and fidgeted in the same way she used to back on the Normandy when she was feeling guilty.

Before she could say anything he slapped her on the back, making her yelp and almost stumble over her own feet. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her and Tali whipped her head to glare at him from under her helmet.

He laughed, unable to help himself. “Don’t be jealous just because I have somewhere to sit on my homeworld.”

Apparently two years weren’t long enough to stop him from remembering the old Normandy crew’s quirks because Wrex could tell she was rolling her eyes at him.

It seemed Tali had gotten tougher skin in the intervening years.

At least she was still standing.

“So,” Wrex said and dropped his arm away from Tali’s shoulder to take a seat back on his throne. “What brings you here?”

Shepard stepped forward and gestured at Grunt and Wrex leaned in to see what was wrong.

Word traveled fast and before Shepard had even made it off the battlegrounds Wrex had heard about the fallen Thresher maw.

Granting Grunt a title in Clan Urdnot was easier after that. Though Wrex would have been lying if he’d said he wouldn’t have given Shepard and Tali a title too if they asked.

Shepard wandered off, chasing after Grunt who had decided to challenge some Krogans standing near a pit, leaving Tali alone with him.

“So that was your Pilgrimage?” Tali asked, “I’m amazed any of you make it into adulthood.”

“Right,” Wrex said drily, “Nothing like sending our young out into the galaxy without a credit to their name and just hoping they make it back.”

Tali tilted her head, a silent acknowledgment.

“You taking care of that thing?” He nodded at the shotgun at her hip.

“Yes.” She paused. “Thank you, by the way. It would have been nicer to thank you in person however.”

Wrex shrugged. “I was getting rid of it anyway.”

“Uh hunh.” Tali said, her tone one of disbelief.

“Surprised you joined the whelp there in his Rite of Passage.” Wrex glanced over at Grunt and then back at Tali. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of deal.”

“Well.” Tali shifted on her feet, looking away. “I remembered something an old Krogan told me about krantts and the importance of them in the Rite.”

Wrex blinked in surprise.

“Hm.” He leaned back in the throne. “Not bad for a Quarian.”

“Tali, come on!” Shepard called out to her and Tali straightened up at her name.

“See you later, Wrex. Take care of yourself. Though I suppose that’s easier to do if you’re doing nothing but sitting.” Her tone was cheerful as she said it.

“Don’t forget who taught you those tricks of yours.” Wrex said, there was no real hint of warning in his voice- if anything it was jovial.

Tali nodded at him and walked off.

Wrex sunk into his chair, taking the next datapad he needed to look at about Clan Weyloc with him. It seemed like Tali wasn’t so young anymore.

Two years could make a lot of differences to species who didn’t live that long.

Wrex wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“You heard from Tali?” Wrex asked Liara one day when they were sitting in the lounge. He’d pulled her away from those screens of hers, the tightness in her eyes worried him a little.

Everyone else was back on board except for Tali and Ashley but Ashley he at least had heard about. She’d recovered from her injuries and even had a Spectre status to her name. Tali though no one seemed to know anything about.

“Our last interaction was months ago.” Liara said. She dragged a hand over her face and Wrex pretended not to see the wetness on her fingers as she pulled it away. “I’ve heard very little from Quarian space. It seems they’ve just gone silent.”

His grasp around his cup tightened, the glass crinkling underneath his grip.

“I’m certain she’s fine however. I saw her when Shepard came to help me with the Shadow Broker. She was…broken up about her father still but didn’t let that interfere with the mission.”

“Her father?” Wrex asked, frowning.

“He died. Shepard says he woke up some of the Geth units that Tali had sent him. The Admiralty put her on trial for it.”

“Those idiots did what?” Wrex growled, slamming the glass on to the table. “Have they even met Tali? She’s the last person who would take chances with the geth.”

“That’s what Shepard said.” Liara replied, and when she looked up at him she was smiling. “I wouldn’t worry Wrex, Tali can take care of herself.”

“Who said anything about worry?” Wrex blustered but he knew Liara wasn’t buying it. “I just think there’s a whole lot of stupid in this world that needs to be taken care of.”

Liara hummed and let it slide, “From last I heard she’s working along with the Admiralty board.”

Wrex scoffed.

He understood it certainly, those were Tali’s people. She cared about them the same way he cared about the Krogan, probably more since she didn’t seem to hate half of them. Maybe the genophage hadn’t ravaged her people but the war with the Geth had. He was willing to bet she’d taken on more responsibility than was reasonable.

And no one was even with her to watch her back.

“So,” Liara tactfully changed the subject, “What will you do when the genophage is cured.”

Wrex grinned widely. “Finish kicking the Reaper’s ass for the rest of the galaxy.”

“How magnanimous of you.” Liara said, shaking her head but the smile she wore was genuine at least and the shadows in her eyes had receded however little it was.

“The Asari can thank us later.” Wrex took his drink back up and chugged it the rest of the way. There might have been some broken glass in there but it made little difference to him.

He put Tali out of mind for the time, he was sure they both had bigger issues to worry about.

Only Shepard could get a clone that would try to take over her life.

In all honesty, Wrex had missed the chaos.

And being with the crew.

Kaidan was still a notable absence, especially whenever Ashley was standing next to Shepard and would just lean over like she was about to say something to someone and then realized they were no longer there. Old habits died hard even years later it seemed.

No one mentioned it.

Shepard opted to take Ashley and Brooks to the casino with her, leaving the rest of them to the apartment. EDI and Liara took to monitoring the channel in case Shepard needed anything, Vega had taken over the tv, Garrus and Joker were shooting jokes back and forth at each other about Turians and humans, and Javik was just standing creepily in the corner.

Wrex still didn’t know what to make of the Prothean. Shepard found the weirdest people to call squadmates.

“So I heard there’s a cure for your people.” Tali said as she took a seat next to him. Her glass was filled with something alcoholic with a straw stuck in it so she could drink it.

“And I heard you made nice with the Geth.” Wrex said, taking a gulp of his own drink.

“Who’d have thought we’d be here now.” Tali raised her glass in a toast and then took a sip.

“Probably Shepard.” Wrex grumbled though it wasn’t really critical. “She always did keep talking about making a difference.” And apparently Wrex had listened. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

At least taking a risk with her had panned out.

“You should visit Rannoch,” Tali said, “The Geth didn’t do upkeep much on the buildings they weren’t inhabiting, it might even feel like Tuchanka to you. Except greener.” Tali sounded proud and Wrex caught the twitch in her leg. This time like she was stopping herself from bouncing as she talked excitedly about her homeworld. “It’s all so new. Can I even call it new? It is technically old to us. Old like you are- wait you must have seen what it looked like before…” She shifted, looking up at him.

“I didn’t go much in Quarian space.” Wrex admitted. “Never had a reason to. Didn’t think I’d be around Quarians much.”

He could hear the smirk in her voice. “And yet here you are.”

“Mistakes may have been made.” Wrex drawled and snorted when Tali tried to glare at him from under her helmet. “I’ll see if I can make my way out there. When all this is done. Who knows maybe the council will award us Rannoch. Then you’d have to fight us for it.” He grinned at Tali. “Good luck getting it back then.”

She was rolling her eyes, he knew it.

“We’d manage.” Tali said, sniffing indignantly. “We’re tougher than you think.”

“Yeah.” Wrex agreed, glancing over at her. “So it seems.”

“I mean. We took down a Reaper. Without using a Thresher maw even.”

Wrex threw his head back and laughed. “Only because I bet Quarian’s guard dogs would catch a cold if they went outside.”

“Speaking of dogs I heard Jack got herself a pet varren, I wonder how one of those would do on Rannoch…”

“Bad idea, kid.” Wrex said but leaned back to listen to Tali go on about it anyway.

It’d been years since he’d seen Tali in a firefight. The ride down the elevator to the cargo bay had him glance over at her.

“You been practicing with that shotgun? Still remember the fast-reloading trick I showed you?” He asked.

Tali’s back straightened. “You know, I've taken care of myself for the past few years.”

Of that he had no doubt. She would have had to with everything going on the galaxy right then and even before it from what Wrex had heard of what happened to her father.

“I know. I'm old and I worry, even though my favourite Quarian's all grown up and killing Reapers.” He sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to admit that.

“You're like the crazy head butting uncle I never had.” Tali told him, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in her voice.

Whatever response he was going to have was lost when the doors opened and Shepard raced after her clone.

In the end he pulled both Tali and Shepard back up into the cargo bay before they fell to the Citadel streets below.

“Thanks, Wrex.” Shepard said, slightly out of breath. She stood up and pinged Joker on the comms.

Tali sat on the ground next to him, shaking a little.

He nudged her.

“You okay?”

To his surprise Tali started laughing, falling onto the floor on her back and giggling.

“You ever think about how weird our lives are?” Tali asked between her laughter.

“All the time.” Wrex sighed. “I had it much easier before all of you.”

“Aw but Wrex.” Tali sat up and he was certain she was grinning. “Then you wouldn’t have met your favourite Quarian.”

Wrex rolled his eyes.

“Does that make Garrus your favourite Turian? And Liara your favourite Asari? I bet Shepard’s the favourite human, right? Can I tell them?” Tali asked, snickering.

He almost wished he could have said that she reminded him of the Tali he’d known years ago who was lighter and freer of responsibilities but even back then she bore a weight on her back.

“No one would believe it.” He turned his head a little so Tali would miss his grin.

“I bet they would.” Tali said, leaning back on her hands. “You’re a little soft around us Wrex, I don’t think you’ve noticed it.”

“You take that back.” Wrex grumbled, looking back to frown at her.

“If it makes you feel better you’re my favourite Krogan.” Tali told him, matter of fact.

It did make him feel a little better, not that he was going to say it.

“Yeah yeah, head-butting uncle, I heard.”

“At least your hearing isn’t going in your old age then.”

Wrex certainly proved the head-butting part later that week when Grunt challenged him at the party.

Laughter rang out all around them, the apartment alive as everyone who had once been a part of the Normandy crew shared stories.

Though some of them he’d never met they all shared the common bond of getting dragged into the craziest shit with Shepard.

Glancing around he noticed a certain Quarian was missing and heaved himself away from the balcony with a sigh. It didn’t take long to find Tali nearly passed out in the bathroom.

“I knew you were a lightweight.” Wrex said, looking down at Tali and huffing with a laugh.

“Wrex!” Tali yelled, too loud even over the blasting music.

“Think you can stand or you too out of it?” He asked, amused as Tali hiccuped.

“I am not too out of it.” Tali denied but still lay on the floor. “I am still looking for answers is all.”

“Answers?”

Tali nodded but then held a hand to her helmet like she regretted the movement a second later. “Shepard said the answers to my father are the bottom of the glass. I am still looking.”

Wrex rolled his eyes, “Shepard also thinks she could survive a head butting contest with a krogan. Come on,” He said and leaned down to drag Tali up right.

“Do you think I made him proud? I am not certain he made me proud.” Tali rambled as Wrex started to drag her towards one of the many bedrooms. It wasn’t hard to guess she was still talking about her father. “I thought he had all the answers once; but they were just lies he told me.” Her voice was bitter and Wrex paused.

“Kid no one has all the answers and as for your dad, well. Parents are complicated. At least he didn’t try to kill you.”

“Oh.” Tali said, trailing out the word too long. “I suppose you have me there, Wrex.”

“Always nice to beat a Quarian at something.” Wrex kept moving then.

“Pfft, you don’t want to beat me, I am your favourite.”

“Really going to milk that one, hunh?”

Tali was beaming under her helmet, this close up he could just make out a grin. “It means a lot to me.”

Wrex made a few mock grumbling noises. “Don’t you people have the ability to flush out toxins or something.”

“I will!” Tali said brightly and then hung her head. “In a minute.”

Wrex got to the bed and dumped her on it. “There. Now you can also sleep it off.” Tali flopped around on the bed, making Wrex drag a hand over his face. “This is humiliating for the both of us, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” Tali complained, her tone the near exact it had been three years ago in the cargo bay. “You even said I was all grown up! And and-” She swayed when she tried to sit up. “Killing Reapers!” She finished victoriously.

Wrex chuckled and pushed her back down, “Yeah you are. I’m proud of you for it. You’re no Kalros but you can pack a punch with that bot of yours.”

“Chitika goes for the optics!” Tali said but it was slightly muffled by her turning her face into the bedsheets.

Wrex snorted when she began to do the wheezy breath with her filter that meant she was out again.

“Your dad’s an idiot.” He told the sleeping Tali and then trudged back to the party.

Tali wasn’t wrong. Rannoch was greener than Tuchanka but a lot of the land had been turned into Geth hubs that were now being dismantled to turn into homes.

Having them so near still creeped Wrex out with their flashlight heads, he wished for a moment Ashley was there to share in his commisery of it but she was still on Earth. After the last battle most of them had headed for their homeworlds while mourning the loss of Shepard.

He’d spent a few months on Tuchanka overseeing building plans for expansion and watching the first of his children grow a little and then gotten the invitation from Tali to “see what a real planet looks like”.

“If this is what qualifies as a real planet I’m not impressed.” Wrex intoned as Tali greeted him at the shuttle pad.

She stepped up to fling her arms around him and pulled him into a hug that he returned with a sigh.

“I’m surprised you made it off that scrap of rock you call one so quickly. I didn’t think you’d accept my invite for another year at least.” Tali stepped back and was fidgeting.

Her mask was off and Wrex squinted a little to view her face. He grunted lightly, “Thought you might be in trouble. Or in need of some good old fashioned Krogan strength to move things.”

Tali rolled her eyes, “This is just a friendly visit.” She said but was still shifting on her feet and wringing her hands. “I wanted to show you how far we’d come.”

Wrex tilted his head, trying to figure out what it was Tali was hiding. Without her mask it was easier to see her avert her eyes. “Well, I also thought I should see my krantt.” He finally said just to see her reaction.

Tali’s face shot up, her gaze meeting his and her mouth dropped in surprise. “I thought you didn’t have a krantt anymore.”

That’s what he’d thought too until three years ago. But he wasn’t about to lie to himself anymore. The Normandy crew would always be important to him.

Wrex just shrugged in response to her though.

Tali bounced on her feet and grinned up at him. “I see the end of the war really has made you soft.” She said, her voice sly. “How are raising babies?”

Wrex grunted. “Almost as annoying as watching over a baby Quarian.”

“Hey!” Tali reached out to whack his shoulder but just hurt her hand instead. She pulled it back with a pout.

“But I’d be glad if they grew up as well as she did.” Wrex admitted a second after even as he laughed.

Her shoulders straightened at that and Tali stood a little taller. “Thanks. I’d hope my father would be able to say the same thing.” Her eyes darted away again at the comment and it clicked to Wrex.

He truly was getting old and soft because instead of dropping it he stepped closer to nudge Tali. “Guess I can be proud in his place then.”

Tali hesitated only a second before she smiled at him again. It was a little sad this time but the sincerity was there. “Come on old man, I’ll show you why we Quarians were once considered the best builders.”

“So long as it looks better than your suits.”

Tali whacked his arm again, a lesson not learnt the first time.

“You’re lucky I don’t have a shotgun right now.” She warned him.

“You couldn’t match me even with one.” Wrex said back but it had no bite. He dropped a hand to her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

She probably actually could though he’d never admit it.

After all, he’d taught her the best tricks in the books.

#tali'zorah vas normandy #urdnot wrex #trilogyappreciationweek #beej writes #rannochs #wlwkiranerys

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deans-haunted-baby · 3 years

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Dadstiel Shoulder Touch Analysis

I want to take some time to discuss something about this incredible father/son dynamic that I don’t think gets enough recognition. And that is their connection. A connection layered in so many different attributes yet primarily based on physical touch. Apologies this is going to be long. Despite my saltiness towards Supernatural as I feel the show squandered them during its run, I really love the amount of attention to detail that was put into Castiel and Jack’s relationship. It kind of has a Terminator inspired vibe going on which I can’t deny enjoying. The bodyguard and the future savior of mankind. And this bond was in development all the way back in season 12; long before Jack was born.

During 12x19 it’s through his mother Kelly, that the son of Lucifer forges an emotional attachment with the trench-coated angel whom he imprints on to be his surrogate dad. From the moment Castiel puts his hand on her belly, and feels Jack, they instantly fall in love with each other. At first touch. Trusting each other completely without the slightest bit of doubt as they sense the other’s good aura. It’s a devotion unlike anything Cas has ever experienced in his millions of years. Even more than what he’s felt for Sam and Dean. And it happens before he and Jack even get to see each other. Their bond becomes intensely essential that it boosts Castiel’s grace, allowing him to protect Kelly and her son from Dagon as well as cause a rip in time and space.

After Jack is born and in the care of the Winchesters, scared, lost and confused yet curious as an infant in an adolescent body; the child wanders aimlessly searching for Castiel. All he wants in that moment is to be with Castiel because that is who he recognizes as his father. Missing him and needing to feel that same warmth, protection and compassion he felt from inside his mother’s womb. However, following the tragic circumstances that led to the angel’s unexpected death at the hands of Jack’s biological dad in 12x23, these two are forcibly separated in the beginning of season 13. Until Jack instinctively resurrects Castiel out of the Empty through his own will and desire alone at the very end of 13x03. Proving that no matter how far away they are, the tether between them can’t be broken.

These two don’t even need an introduction from Sam and Dean when 13x06 finally reunites them for the first time. Jack immediately knows who Castiel is going off on his mother’s memories. And their reunion comes so naturally. There’s no awkwardness, no hesitation or apprehensiveness emanating from the angel’s presence. Jack just walks right up to Cas, puts his arms around him and tells him how much he missed him. Its as if they’d never been apart. And afterwards they spend nearly the entire episode practically inseparable. Getting to know each other as father and son. And that goes without saying, while Jack did bond with the Winchesters in person first, there is no comparison to the Nephilim boy’s emotional attachment towards the angel.

This special relationship is very significant to both of them. Around each other they’re at their most happiest. Castiel is constantly at Jack’s side; and ALMOST ALWAYS tenderly touching him, namely his shoulders or protectively holding him by the arm and the child wholly reciprocates this. In Castiel’s gentle physical touch Jack is given a sense of security, solace, reassurance and comfort. Same as he’d had as an unborn baby. Not only is this the angel’s way of demonstrating his affection, empathy and devotion towards his son but this is actually how he non-verbally tells Jack that he loves him. Its purely unconditional. And this gesture isn’t one-sided as I will acknowledge later. Jack desires Cas’s tangible nearness as much as his dad does which is why they’re so magnetically pulled together in all of their scenes on the show.

Even when they’re at conflict with each other or arguing, Castiel never fails to let Jack know that he’s always safe and loved. That he isn’t afraid of him. His son could be in pain, angry, or vengeful in the moment and Castiel’s affection for that child will never waver. He’ll endlessly put his own life at risk in order to reach Jack; who is far more powerful than he is via his archangel half. Like the convivence store scene in 13x23 when Jack attacks a civilian believing he’d killed his friend and Cas does his best to subdue him. Whether Jack wants it or not at the time, he needs his dad’s emotional support; and the angel can’t stand the thought of his son harmed or hurting. He’s easily saddened whenever Jack refuses his touch as shown in 13x21 when he was very upset over Sam’s temporary death and rips away Cas’s hand as he’s trying to console him.

Supernatural really emphasizes the powerful connection Castiel and Jack share using physical communication in nearly every one of their episodes. Its these wonderful details they do onscreen that illustrates the depth of love these characters have for each other. Unfortunately though, they didn’t get to interact much during season 13. Yet the small portions in their four episodes together is exceptionally substantial. While we’re on the subject, the shoulder touches are definitely a Dadstiel thing. It’s their signature sign of affection and theirs’s only. Don’t believe me, let me give you an example of a specific scene in 14x19 between Jack and Sam; which takes place in the aftermath of Jack’s accidental killing of the Winchesters’ mother Mary.

Dean and Sam conspire to trick and lock away the soulless infant Nephilim in a mystical coffin as punishment with the intention of finding a solution that will end his life. Sam is the reluctant main player in this scheme of using his influence over the child in order to gain his trust and sway him into his fate. Just before Jack’s about to be led to the room and put into the box, scared and uncertain, Sam then puts his hand on his shoulder telling him they need to keep him safe while giving him an awkward grin. And look at Jack’s expression as this happens. It reads shattered. He immediately knows something’s wrong. Sam is touching him just like Castiel…except this is nothing like Castiel. His dad’s shoulder touches are always so tender and loving.

Jack can literally feel Cas’s devotion for him in every tangibility. But here he doesn’t feel that from Sam at all. Its cold, fearful and empty just like he is on the inside. Rendering him even more nervous. Speaking of season 14 the father/son content we get between Castiel and Jack is even better that year as its all about their relationship growing and strengthening into something far deeper than it was in the previous seasons 12 and 13. It’s the year their bond is put through the ultimate test. Where Jack is made human after Lucifer steals his grace and Cas dominantly steps into his role as a father.

Providing Jack with a certain guidance, boundaries, and stability in episodes 14x01, 14x02, 14x03, 14x09 and 14x10 unlike what he’d received from Sam and Dean. Castiel takes on all the difficult tasks of parenting ranging from scolding to teaching his son about death, responsibility, self-restraint, patience and the tribulations of growing up. He doesn’t raise his voice ever when he speaks to Jack. And is completely there 100% for his son from the beginning…and the end of his life. Although Castiel is an angel he is very much a pivotal link to Jack’s humanity and vice versa as well as a link to his celestial side. While he greatly admires and looks up to the Winchesters, its through Cas’s influence that the infant Nephilim aspires to be a good person.

Jack never wants to become the monster his biological father was; desperate to break out of that mold once in for all. And he isn’t alone. Castiel is right there with Jack every step of the way. Ready to challenge and encourage his son whenever he does something decent or makes a mistake. He doesn’t hesitate to tell his son when he’s proud of him. And sometimes he’s there to coddle Jack during times of crisis as displayed in the 14x09 showdown with AU!Michael where the angel takes a second to heal Jack’s minor facial wounds. I just love that tiny focal point of Cas in the background, as the Winchesters are talking, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder before using his powers on him. As if to keep him calm; like a parent reassuring their nervous kid that it won’t hurt.

Throughout the first part of season 14 we’re blessed with so much affectionate Dadstiel moments like the after-the-battle angst talk in 14x01 where Castiel reminds a very frustrated Jack “you’ve got me” as he declares he has nothing. Or 14x08 after Jack’s death and they’re bittersweetly reunited in Heaven with Kelly; all smiles, touching shoulders and hugging each other as if they can’t bear to be separated. Followed with that heartfelt moment of Castiel tenderly touching his son’s cheeks, sadly looking at him with so much adoration, as he sends his soul back to his body. Then there was their unforgettable father/son pep talk in regards to the vulnerability of Jack’s soul; Castiel just gives his son’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he leaves the room. Again, this is how these two say “I love you”.

And I couldn’t very go in depth of this analysis without mentioning 14x20′s Jack death scene 2.0; Castiel helplessly touches his son, who’s screaming on the ground in agony, trying desperately to ease his suffering. Yah this was particularly very hard for me to watch witnessing Castiel going out of his mind, completely unable to save Jack from enduring such a painful end to his life. Once was already cruel enough on me. And of course 15x01 continued that vicious trend of Castiel harrowingly protecting his son’s corpse, carrying him over the shoulder in a fireman’s hold as he runs through the cemetery, then gently lays him down on the floor in a mausoleum. I get emotional watching Cas cradling Jack’s head as he positions him comfortably; letting his touch linger unable to let go. He doesn’t even care what happens to him in this moment as long as his son’s body is safe. Very strong symbolism of a parent who will never abandon their child long after they’re gone.

On a side note I want to quickly call attention to how much I revere the Dadstiel healing parallels in 14x09 and 14x14 plus BONUS: Jack almost-killing Castiel in 15x13 so he can talk to Ruby in the Empty. These just add some nice little textures in their dynamic which compliments their ongoing tradition of showing devotion through physical communication. And both the healing scenes and the temporary death scene are composited very similarly. Focused on Castiel and Jack’s hands in the process of relieving the other’s pain/life.

Touch is exhibited as being a very crucial element for both of these characters when it comes to their iron-clad relationship. That palpable part of Castiel and Jack’s connection keeps them closely-knit. Its their familial instinct and how they express their feelings for each other. If they aren’t kneading shoulders, the angel duo is often standing beside each other or firmly linked at the arms. And this usually happens during moments of extreme stress, joy, sorrow, pain or fear. Jack relies so much on Castiel’s parental presence. He respects his authority, disobeying only when his actions feel necessary, and will go to the angel whenever he wants to talk or vent. Jack is also comfortable with Castiel enough to confide his darkest secrets no matter how awful they are. That’s the foundation of the everlasting trust built between them. They’re just tethered to one another in such a way that nothing will divide them.

I’ll begin with the hospital scene from 14x07 where Castiel is being the rock to his ailing son who can barely stand on his feet. There’s so much anxiety radiating off him in this moment as he struggles with watching Jack suffer; holding him so close. Staring at his face you can tell this horrible situation is ripping him apart. Actually, the entire episode is basically just Castiel silently enduring the pain of Jack dying.

The second set of screencaps underneath are of 14x10; Jack is agitated by AU!Michael’s antagonistic claims that his family’s love for him isn’t unconditional. Reading into one of his greatest fears. But then Castiel instantly calls out to his son, grabs the crook of his arm; gently reassuring him none of this is true. And Jack doesn’t resist this as he knows his dad is sincere. He never has to question Cas’s feelings towards him as his physical touch alone is self-explanatory. But when it comes to the Winchesters, that’s a whole other conversation.

Next, we have one of my favorite emotionally-charged Dadstiel moments in 14x14; where in a fit of panic because the anti venom wasn’t working Jack, going against Castiel’s warnings not to risk burning off his soul, is compelled to use his powers to save his dad. And I love this because this time its Jack who’s the one initiating all the physical contact. Just as the recovered angel demands what he’s done, his son responds with a soft “you’re okay” and the “I love you dad” shoulder touch as well as firmly gripping his arm.

Finally stepping away from season 14 I’m going to briefly go over the caps from season 15. Let’s begin with 15x11 the Dadstiel reunion scene at the church which is so beautifully poignant. Castiel is so overjoyed to see Jack alive that he takes a second to look over his equally stunned son, touching his shoulders before they embrace. This is by far one of Cas and Jack’s top father/son moments on the show and it’s done so effectively. If you want a more in-depth description for what I love about this scene, you can read my post about it here.

After that is the 15x13 Dadstiel moment where Castiel, suspicious of Jo’s story about the Occultum, had asked Jack to temporarily kill him in order to go see Ruby in the Empty. Two things I really like about this; 1. even though Jack still doesn’t have a soul, is very concerned about and protective over Castiel because of that deal. And 2. again Jack is initiating all the touching in this scene; look at the way he grasps his dad’s arm as he returns him to life. It’s almost as if he’s hoping the touch of his hand will not only speed up the process but also reach his dad so his essence isn’t lost forever.

And then we have 15x17. We didn’t get much Dadstiel interaction in this episode but the amount of times Castiel protectively holds onto his agonized child, who’d been turned into a cosmic bomb about to go off any minute, having no regard for the danger he’s in is so visually gut-wrenching. There’s a specific moment in the scene where, as Sam and Dean are arguing, Castiel is sitting on the floor just clutching Jack tight. Trying to non-verbally soothe him.

And this is followed up in the first half of 15x18, aka THEIR VERY LAST EPISODE TOGETHER ever on Supernatural. Here is where everything about their connection comes full circle with Castiel refusing to abandon Jack no matter the situation. Demonstrating the extent of his devotion by willing to die for his child just as he’d sacrificed his happiness to save Jack from the Empty. Because that is his son and nothing not even death itself can ever destroy what they have. Much as the young Nephilim boy begs for his dad to stay away, yells that he doesn’t want to hurt him; Castiel kneeling to Jack’s eye-level doesn’t leave his side. Then when Jack disappears to the Empty and reappears back at the bunker reformed, Castiel’s hand remains firmly glued to his son’s shoulder. He doesn’t want Jack to feel afraid or traumatized any further.

This was such an intense part of the episode I mean just look at how stressed out these two were. The anguish in their expressions. Simply put, Cas and Jack cannot bare to live without the other. They’re each other’s home; two sides of the same soul. Castiel loves all of Jack; the good, the bad and the ugly. This is an EPIC father and son’s love that knows no bounds. So powerful and pure that it transcended the loss of Jack’s soul, Lucifer’s DNA, the Empty, Mary Winchester’s death and everything else in between. Oh, and guess what, their “I love you” Dadstiel shoulder touches aren’t limited to just their hands. Its in every single one of their hugs too.

Notice how their chins or faces just comfortably rest on top of each other’s shoulders. And except for 14x20 their eyes are shut, as if to savor every single second of that closeness. Jack just buries himself against Castiel like he’s never felt safer with anyone else in the whole universe. And both of them hold each other; giving and receiving the other’s love with their whole self. Like I can’t even begin to describe how much Castiel and Jack’s softness towards each other just melts my heart. Their relationship, despite the horror tongue-in-cheek atmosphere of SPN, is surprisingly sweet, healthy and endearing. They are the epitome of true unconditional love and a great contrast to the Winchester brothers. In my humble opinion Castiel and Jack’s father/son dynamic is the best thing to happen to this show in a long while.

For the closing segment of this analysis I want to do something special before I discuss the paralleled-angst driven Dadstiel shoulder touches in 15x15 and 15x18. First off, I can’t shout enough praise from the rooftops about the insanely remarkable chemistry between Alexander Calvert and Misha Collins. Just brilliant casting. They embody these characters heart and soul and make this relationship feel so real, genuine and grounded. The fact that they look so similar in appearance really sells the idea that these two could actually be father and son. Forget the scripts, the quiet subtly these two bring to Castiel and Jack is the true magic of their relationship.

Let me start with the Dadstiel centric 15x15 aka THE BEST EPISODE of Supernatural season 15. This amazing masterpiece of art is everything I could’ve asked for and more; giving me so much precious father/son content that I will cherish forever. I really enjoyed seeing Castiel and Jack in those matching ties, bonding with each other over a case while they save the day. It’s a shame this show never let these two have more solo adventures together because they’re truly a joy to watch onscreen. Fingers crossed for that spinoff.

But I digress, the car scene in question happens at the very end of the episode in which Jack reveals the alarming truth that he has to die in order to stop Chuck and Amara. And Castiel, visibly and outspokenly distraught by this news, has to be assuaged with that infamous shoulder touch by his son; who’s in just as much pain. This is without a doubt one of most emotional scenes between these two characters out of the last three seasons of the show and quite possibly one of Misha and Alex’s strongest acting moments after the Dadstiel church reunion in 15x11. They killed it with the feels here. I like the attention to detail, the shadows and the colors in the shot, the melancholic score as well as how it seamlessly switches from Jack’s perspective to Castiel’s. Seriously watching this scene always makes me cry its so devastating.

Lastly, we have the Dadstiel car scene in 15x18; and Castiel and Jack’s LAST ONE-ON-ONE together. I’m kind of disappointed by this if I’m being honest. Its not that its bad its just not that definitively great for a final scene between these characters. Especially after four seasons of development. Where are the stakes? Why don’t Jack and Castiel seem as concerned about their situation? Cute as that smile was it doesn’t fit the tone. And where’s that punch in the gut knowing something is going to separate these two any second? It’s too light and doesn’t come off like a goodbye or a cathartic bookend which is what I wanted to take away from the episode considering its title “Despair”.

I mean if they were going to follow up on that heartbreaking car scene at the end of “Gimme Shelter”, the 15x18 scene wasn’t the way to do it. So, the weight of this final interaction feels almost non-existent. Maybe if it had taken place at night and the dialogue solely focused on them not the Winchesters it would’ve faired better. But since this isn’t a rant post I’ll cut to the chase by saying that the only saving grace this moment has happens in the last part. Jack’s in tears telling his dad how scared he is that he can’t use his powers to protect anyone. Coming off very childlike and vulnerable; needing that parental protection that Castiel was always known for. And sure enough, he gives Jack that final “I love you” shoulder touch which I swear had me choked a little.

Rethinking about it now that the show is over actually makes their final moment together really sad as incomplete as it is. I not only look back on how much these characters were drastically underutilized but how much the Dadstiel storyline could’ve been executed better with all the development that it was given. Well there you have it my full Dadstiel shoulder-touch analysis. Hope you’ve enjoyed!

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sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

Text

Just Us (Chapter Seven: Calculating)

← Chapter Six

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“So… um, it’s the Spring Equinox and all. We usually do something. You know, you, me, some friends; like we always do. Are you… are you going to come this year?” I turned to Jonas who was leaning on a box of flour. How could he so easily forget moments like that? He confessed to me and then the next day seemed to completely forget. Months later when it seemed he had an in, he didn’t even go for it. Talk about being uncompetitive.

“Will there be as much drinking as there was last year?” It was monotone and I glanced over to the corner spot. Garrison. Last year, the girl Jonas was interested in and I had to drag back him and his three friends from outside Wall Sina and they slept on the floor of the bakery while I offered her my couch. During the process of wrestling them inside, Jonas had somehow stripped naked and his friends were trying to follow suit. I try to keep that memory suppressed.

“Probably yeah. You know the spring wine is the best… but you’re still kinda sic-” I nodded and help up my hand to stop his excuses.

“You’ll probably have to drag me home this year. I’m in.” He smiled, but it was bittersweet, knowing I wasn’t going to hang out with everyone and socialize. I’d probably just sit under a tree and drink my sorrows away.

“Eva, you-” The sounds of horses outside broke him from his sentence. Some people went out and others just turned back to their food. The Scouts were slowly dwindling in number as they were waiting for the new recruits to come in from training. No one was enthused that they were coming in and out and those who would go and watch them come back were sadists. I turned my back and went to busy myself with some invisible work at the back table.

“You know, if he did something to you to-” I grasped the table. He says this almost every time they march outside of my café.

“If who did something, Jonas?” He felt the venom in my tone and decided not to push forward. I coughed for what felt like the hundredth time and it broke the tension.

“So, uh, next week. I’ll come to get you when we leave. Should be after five. We’ll all get dinner and take it out.” He took the money off the counter and went out of the store, probably to go glare at the Scouts who were walking by.

If he didn’t come this Saturday that marks three months. It also marks the point where I get the message and I’ll forget about him all together. I had forgiven him the first month. He didn’t know how to deal with emotions so he needed some time and maybe needed to kill some titans. The second month came, and an extended break for weather conditions, but yet he didn’t come anywhere near Trost. I even went through one cold and caught another one just waiting for his ass. I wanted him to reject me already so I wasn’t getting let down on the daily.

Here comes my surprise when Saturday one rolls around, I’m still coughing and sneezing, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Even the old ladies stopped coming. I guess they were more wiser on when to give up.

Damn. That was something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Giving up hope. Even he said that he’s afraid I’d give up hope because of him. Well, here we seem to be.

I shouldn’t let a shorty who doesn’t know how to process emotion take away my hope.

The bells rang above the door and two nightshift Garrison members walked in. My least favorite people, always coming 30 minutes before closing asking me to serve them fresh coffee to keep them awake. They never failed to make my mood worse and this oncoming headache wasn’t going to go away with their shouts. Last month, I had to kick out a few of them because they were talking so nastily about the Scouts. I couldn't bear it and neither could my head. I still had hope in the Scouts as a whole, especially hearing they were getting new recruits, and one person wasn’t going to ruin that. Hopefully, the fresh meat would propel them like it did last year. Hm, maybe fresh meat was not a good way to describe the cadets.

The bell above the door rang again and I looked up to be face to face with the Wings of Freedom. At least one Scout was using their day off, a tall one at that. A contrast to shorty. She had rectangular glasses strapped to her face and auburn hair in a ponytail. She came in smiling crazily too. A big contrast.

“Are you Eva with the peppermint tea?” I had to do a double take and even blinked a few times before answering her. I sneezed again before answering.

“Um, yes. I think that would be me. Who’s asking?” She sharply reached out her hand and I shook it. Ouch, she had a hard grip.

“I’m Hange Zoë, a squad leader for the Scouts Regiment. I’m here to escort you to the Scout HQ. Do you have the peppermint tea?” I blinked again, not moving. She wanted to take me where? The last place I wanted to go, that’s where.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” She laughed out loud, not caring if anyone looked at her. Yeah, she really wasn’t at all like the Scouts I meet on a daily basis.

“No, no. Not at all. In fact, I almost have no idea why I’m taking you there. Well, a little bit more of an idea than you have. Personally,” she leaned in and whispered behind her hand, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you since I saw you at the festival, but shorty wouldn’t crack.” It wasn’t a whisper and I’m sure if anyone was at the first few tables, they would have heard it.

“A-and if I don’t come with you?” She shrugged and crossed her arms.

“I’ll drug you and drag you myself.” I stepped back from the counter and she roared with laughter, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Do I look like someone who would do that? Well, maybe... but If you don’t come, I’ll have to deal with an even more upset Captain and I don’t want to do that!” Captain? He ordered her here?

“Did the Captain send you to get me?” She pushed her glasses up and leaned one arm on the counter.

“I guess I should’ve led with that. Levi said, ‘Eva with the peppermint tea,’” she imitated his voice and facial expression, “I had to go to three coffee shops in Trost to find an Eva. Two streets down is a Freud and about a half mile behind you in a cute old couple. I didn’t think the Captain would want them that badly. So when I walked in and remembered seeing Captain talk to you at the festival, I knew I hit the jackpot.” She snapped at the end making a point to her adventure to find me. The Garrison members were now staring at her, too. They probably knew about her better than I did.

“Why does he want me to come to HQ?” She shrugged again, but this time without a death threat after.

“I don’t know, but shorty is very adamant about it. I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream, but that made him even madder. Anyways, I was hoping you’d come and bring the tea and a...” she looked down at ink on her hand, “ a tea set. Captain Levi broke his on the first day of the year. How unlucky is that?” He was adamant that I come? That’s stupid. How adamant can he be when he’s had three months to do it. He probably just wanted to make it easy for someone to drag me away from him when he rejected me. Either way, I was intrigued.

The Garrison members groaned when I shoved them out the door to lock up a few minutes early.

I shouldn’t have gone really, but I had no excuse. Maybe I just wanted him to reject me like I said and then have a sad ride back to the café. However, Hange coming in and saying all those things made me much more concerned about his mental wellbeing than what he was going to say to crush me. And if he was making me come all the way there, was he going to give me bad news? I don’t think he’d be that mean, but I have never faced the real Captain Levi before.

Hange had given me another cape, and some tissues for my nose, saying that it would be easy to have me come in unnoticed because the new cadets had just showed up. She just hoped I didn’t get caught sneaking around by Erwin and thrown into combat training. This woman was saying stuff that was making me scared the whole ride there. I was on a horse too, so that made my anxiety worse.

The Scout HQ was a huge ass castle and I didn’t think it would look at all like this. The barracks in the capital were just a big square building with some pillars. This place was gigantic. Hange made it a point to name every section of the castle so I somehow knew right away where I was going. I was going to the Officer’s Wings.

“It’s a shame though. We’re leaving this place soon for a new one the government issued. It’s not as nice, but it’s smaller because they don’t think we need such a big place… Well, it’s true, but… they didn’t have to say it like that, you know! I’ll have to move my whole lab!”

The hallways were also tall on the inside. It was an actual abandoned castle. I wondered who had lived in here before the government got ahold of it. She even stopped by to show me the throne room that they had converted into the mess hall. It’s like I was on a field trip, but at the end of it was the school leader’s office. Why was I being summoned by him? Was he not good enough to come to the civilian’s café anymore? Annoying prick.

“Here is Captain Levi’s quarters. We just transferred him back today, but he’s still a bit sore from not moving around much. I hope that once he gets his peppermint tea that he’s moaning about, he won’t be so rude to everyone anymore.” I balanced the tea set and bag of tea in my hands as she opened the door for me.

“Transferred?” She waved her hand like it was nothing as shut the door on me. It was like she threw me into the wolves. She didn’t even want to be. I didn’t know she was just going to leave me like that because my nerves just skyrocketed.

His office was like he described. Half the size of the capital, but still with big windows in the back. This time, they were turned to the way of the sun. There was a single, full bookshelf against the wall on the left with another chair in front. This time the chair didn’t seem as uncomfortable as the ones in the capital. He wasn’t sitting at his desk where I thought he’d be. As soon as I saw the crack in the door and dim light peaking through, I knew he was in his bedroom. Why?

We just transferred him back today. Well where had he been?

I decided to sneak up to the little cut out in the wall which held a singular hot plate. If I could make tea, I could prolong the time I didn’t have to talk to him. Why did I even come here in the first place? It’s not like I like this guy anymore or would bend over at his will. Just a rejection, yeah, that’s what I came for.

Taking a single, short step, I tested the floors, hoping they didn’t squeak. Once I was in the clear, I slowly started to tiptoe towards the opening. If I went fast near his door, he wouldn’t even see it.

Achoo!

I held the tea set, but it rattled mercilessly in the box. Oh fu-

“Hange?!” Oh, yeah, he was definitely in the bedroom. Now, I’d just stand here with my eyes closed and hope I didn’t look too bad when he opened the door.

Who am I kidding, I literally hopped on a horse to get here on a whim. I’m bending so far over for this man it’s ridiculous.

“Hange, I told you it was the sixth café down off of the turn we make on the main drag. It’s hard to,” there was a wheeze, “h-hard to miss.” I stood there for a while, but he didn’t come out or open the door. In fact, there was no movement coming from his room at all.

“Hello?!” It was harsh and was followed by another sharp intake of air. It dawned on me then. Transferred. Was he injured?!

“Um, hello?” I finally answered and looked again to see if he would open the door now. Still no movement and now no answer. Maybe Hange messed up and he didn’t want me he-

“Did you bring the tea?” I was not expecting that. His voice was instantly softer than before and after months of not hearing it, it made me melt.

“Oh, um, uh, yes, yes I did. And the set, and the set.” I coughed into my arm, masking my cold. If he knew I was sick, he might send me back just because of germs.

“C-come in. M-My room. I already have hot water...” Come in? To his room? His bedroom? Where he’s laying? He hasn’t even come into my bedroom before.

“Um, are you sure you want me in there?” There was a loud groan, probably so I could hear his annoyance too.

“Just get in here, brat.” There was something about him calling me that that made me annoyed and walk slowly into his room. Was it the urge to bicker again?

I opened the door and peaked in, instantly locking eyes with him. I screamed at my heart because just like the first day, it started beating fast again. Shut up. He’s going to reject you then you’re going to go back home and put the tarts in the oven to prebake.

He looked pitiful. There were bandages wrapped all the way around his torso and he was shirtless, but it didn’t look like it. His head had one bandage around it too, but that one seemed pretty useless. More of a headband if anything. It had also been a while since he’s bathed, marked by the incomplete stubble scattered around his mouth and chin. He just laid there, blanket up to his waistband, staring at me. What had happened and for how long was he like this?

My anger and inhibition to come inside subsided and I set the tea set down on the floor. There was no chair for me to sit on, so I just stood. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, my heart still beating out of my chest. He was the first one to break the silence.

“C-Can you make me tea?” It almost came out like a whine coupled with his lack of breath. I crouched down and took the tea set out, looking at the makeshift water kettle he had on his nightside table. This bedroom was so small; there was no room for a desk. His bed was up against the wall only leaving a few feet towards the door and enough room for a dresser and walking space at his feet. No windows.

“You can,” he caught his breath and was silence for a few moments before continuing, “You can sit here, Eva.” He tapped the space next to him on his bed. I was hesitant at first, but the way he said Eva made me almost forget all his wrong doings. How badly did I want to see him again that I was acting like this? So weak for a single man. I sat down on the bed, back to him, trying to ignore his heated stare.

It was the same feeling the night I kissed him. I made him tea, he stared at me from behind, but I couldn’t get close to him this time. That was going to be the difference. I wouldn’t let myself have such a weak will like last time. Go in, make the tea, get out.

“What did you do?” Goddamnit Eva. You weren’t supposed to make conversation like this.

“A newer cadet ran into me while I was trying to finish off an abnormal titan. The titan got a hold of me and squeezed pretty hard before I cut it’s fingers off. The cadet gave me the concussion, and the titan fractured most of my ribs. This was the beginning of February.” Of course he gave me a date. If I went back to that time, I said I was going to let it slide, too. I had given him January off and if he got hurt in February that means even if he wanted to come to the café, maybe he couldn’t… No, Eva, if he wanted to he’d send Hange earlier.

I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream.

“Oh,” I went back to work, taking out the set he left when he stormed out of the café and the new peppermint tea he has yet to drink. No one but him comes in to drink mint tea. Usually it’s just green or black, so the stock I buy is just for him. Imagine me staring at the tea leaves sitting under the counter for hours next to the tea set box willing him to walk into the café. If he wasn’t going to come back, maybe I should just give it to him so he doesn’t force me here again.

“I’m almost healed completely. There’s just one rib that’s bothering me enough to not be able to go back in the field.” It was interesting to hear him talk so much, even when injured. Our roles had reversed. Maybe he felt pressured to talk more than usual. I hope guilt was pushing him.

“That’s good.” I just sat there, watching the tea leaves swirl in the water, and hoping I’d had enough strength to turn back away from him when I gave him his cup.

“What have you been d-doing?”

“The usual.” I picked at my skirt, noticing it was the one I’d worn the last time I’d seen him. When only owning about five, there were heavy odds that would happen. Sadly, this meant the odds were stacked against me. I only won a few bits of luck back when I was, in fact, able to turn back around when I gave him his tea. I didn’t even look in his eyes either.

“Can you help me into the bathroom?” He set the empty tea cup down next to me, making it so I didn’t have to turn around to put it on his nightstand. If I helped him, I’d have to look at him though. This was apart of some plan.

“I could get Hang-” He grabbed my wrist with a bit of force and used his strength to turn me. I also fell on top of him with how hard he whipped me around. This was the first time he had put his hands on me like that.

“Why can’t you even look at me?!” I was breathing hard, but still looking at the blankets on the bed. His hand was bandaged too. We’d traded places in that aspect. I wasn’t going to tell him, but the balm he gave me helped. HE didn’t deserve that information when he was acting like this.

I stood up, taking my knees off the bed, and pulled the blanket off of him. I made sure to fold this so he had nothing to yell at me about again. He got himself parallel to me and needed help to sit up. The was probably going to be the most painful part. You were helping someone who was in pain, there was nothing else to it. I was being a nurse to him since no one else was around to do so.

Reaching for his back, I carefully helped lift him up to a seated position. The amount of curse words that came out of his mouth made my heart squeeze at the pain I was putting him through. It was just pity; you were sad for the man who was hurt. That’s it. I shifted my position to sitting next to him and silently gasped when he put his arm around me and grabbed my opposite shoulder. Minus the time I had kissed him, this was the closest we’d ever been. My mind couldn’t help but take a delight in that.

When we stood, there were a lot less curse words, but they were still there. My gaze was directed at the floor as we walked out and directly to the right into the small bathroom. They really paid no expense to give the Scouts nothing. This was an officer’s quarters too, which meant that he had one of the best lodgings. I bet it was bunk beds and communal showers outside of this wing.

I let go of him and got behind him near the door. I had no idea what he was going to do here, but I knew I’d leave as soon as he started. Would I leave completely now that I’d given him tea? It seemed rude to someone who was in his state. What if he falls or hurts himself again? This wing was so far removed from the others. My weak will triumphs again.

“Can you take off the bandages? There’s scissors on the sink.” How much was he going to torture me before I leave? He’s hurt, just do it, Eva.

I picked up the scissors and walked over to his back, trying to be gentle so I didn’t cut the skin off of him. I put one hand on his upper back and worked from the bottom-up, cutting away at the thick, white bandages holding his ribs in place.

The speed of our breathing matched when I touched his bare skin. Was he breathing hard because of the decreased pressure? I raised one eyebrow, maybe taking that as a selfish clue, and took away the last bandage. They fell on the floor and allowed me to take in his shirtless back. There were bruises that were healing and a few minor cuts, but most importantly it seemed to be all lean, muscle. He wouldn’t care or notice if I was staring, so I took it as payback. Sweet, muscular, gorgeous pay back. If he turned he would have seen my blush.

Yeah, good luck Eva, the feelings aren’t gone.

“I’m going to shower. You can, um, there’s books? I think Hange left something to eat a few hours ago, too. Eat that...if you want.” That was his way of telling me he didn’t want me to leave.

“Okay,” I finished shortly and turned back around, closing the bathroom door. When the water went on, I took a long breath and sunk down against the door. I put a hand to my face and lightly slapped it to wake me up. My face had to be at least five shades redder after that encounter. Was he going to make me put bandages back on him? Would I get to see his front on full display? I slapped my face again and frowned at myself. He wasn’t the only shirtless man you’ve seen, quit acting like this.

I stood up and looked around at his office. There were papers scattered all over his desk, nothing seemed to be in it’s right place, and I could see a layer of dust collecting on the shelves to the right of his desk. It’s not because me cleaning would make him happy, but it’s because I had taken an interest in looking around his office. It would be a disservice to the place if I didn’t look at it in the way he intended.

Starting with the desk, I just pushed papers together and stacked them in neat piles on his desk. It was easy to find a spot because there was absolutely nothing on his desk besides a name plaque, a cup to hold pens, and a stamp that seemed to be his official marking for papers. His office was as bare as the one in the capital. I found a cloth by the burner and used that to wipe down the shelves that were equally as empty. A rusted knife, a small stack of Wings of Freedom cloth emblems, and a cracked, white teacup. I wonder what these things meant to him if he put them over here on display.

I wiped off his desk too and opened the curtains that blocked the sunlight from the windows. His office viewed the training ground as I saw cadets practicing hand-to-hand combat in full uniform. When I finished dusting everything, I sat down in his chair, taking in the full view of his office. If I had a room like this, I’d fill it with something and not leave it so empty. I bet it even echoed.

“Echo… echo,” I confirmed my suspicion. When we talked about remodeling the Scouts HQ, his office had never come into the conversation when it severely needed to.

The water shut off and my gaze snapped to the door of the bathroom. He takes quick showers for someone who was slightly incapacitated. I wonder how long they took him when he was back to normal. Showers should be savored, not rushed; that was my opinion.

The door opened and I just turned the random book of his desk open to pretend I was reading. It was something about the history of Scout maneuvers but I couldn’t understand a thing. He had to know I was lying to him.

“You cleaned?” I glanced quickly up at him and looked back down at the book. Oh gods. He was smiling. Not a smirk or a smile after he insulted me; a heartwarming, genuine smile. Another one worth ten points at least. I wanted to look back up at him. If he smiled like that again, this whole emotionless façade of mine was going to break easily.

He walked over to the small foot rest that was in front of his desk and sat down slowly to face me. I just kept staring at the pictures in the book finally discovering that the Os were Scouts and the Xs were titans.

“Interesting book?” I turned the page and nodded, lying to him. This page didn’t have a picture so I’d have to pretend to be interested in the words.

“Can you even understand what that’s saying?” I’d been caught. I acted like I had finished the page before closing the book and setting it aside. This time, I felt like I was at an appropriate distance to look at him. That was a mistake because he was still smiling at me and I felt my insides melt. He was doing it on purpose. The defensive strategy that I made while he was shower disappeared too.

“No,” I answered truthfully and took in his form. He had put the bandages on himself, thank gods, and was sitting completely straight so as to not hurt his ribs. His face was smooth again, but his hair had grown almost past the tip of his nose. Even like this, he looked so handsome. I leaned back in the chair and started twiddling my thumbs, looking down at them.

“You cut your hair?” He was observant. I coughed before answering.

“I do at the beginning of every year.”

“Are you sick?” His voice was filled with concern and not the tone of ‘If you say yes, I’ll kick you out’.

“A cold.”

“So you haven’t been taking care of yourself.” There was no tea to sip in place of answering his statement. Those words brought back a bit of anger though. The effects of his smile didn’t last long.

“If you cared, why didn’t you come back then?” He sighed and rested one leg over the other like he always does.

“I was sca-”

“Don’t say you were scared. You’ve used that excuse before. Find something original.” It was a lot easier to yell at him when I wasn’t looking at him.

“I didn’t know how to respond.” I clenched my fists. I knew that when I kissed him, but it still made me mad. He was a grown man.

“Usually when someone kisses you, you have two options. Respond back or tell them you don’t want that. You don’t run away from them.” He groaned which made my anger even worse. He didn’t know how to respond to anything I was saying and that made him frustrated too.

“C-Can you come sit next to me?” I looked up at him for the first time, my eyes hardening with emotion.

“No, I won’t.” I didn’t dare get close to him again.

“Eva,” he pleaded and I shook my head again.

“I’m not playing this game anymore, Levi. I’m not going to play pretend with you and ignore the reality of things.” He stood up again slowly.

“Look at this. At me. This is reality. I almost died out on the field because I was thinking about you and not the titans! I called you here to show you that because I don’t think you know how bad things can get.” I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms.

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration again. No, sir, I was the one who could be frustrated.

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I almost died because of one small slip up. Who knows what could happen on the next expedition? You don’t know what it’s like to be outside of the walls or to see people die to the left and right of you! I’m always next.” I glared at him.

“Maybe if we didn’t spend so much time in our pretend little world, you could’ve told me so I understand. Maybe you’d know about my life in the Underground and how you’re completely wrong about me not knowing how bad things can get. You’re the one who did this to yourself!” I hit his desk with my fist and stood up to match him. I wasn’t going to back down. His face went blank again, back into the calculating Captain Levi, not the one who seemed to blurt out things when the emotion came too much for him to know how to deal with it.

“I don’t… ”

“You’re afraid of yourself. If you let yourself really do what you want, it’ll break the little pretend world you’ve made. The one where you’re emotionless and in control of every part of yourself and the people below you. You can’t push away reality and keep playing pretend with me.” He gripped his fist.

“I’m not playing pretend.”

“Then who are you when you’re sitting on my couch?”

“Levi.”

“Levi or Captain Levi?” He shook his head like it didn’t matter the difference.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“They’re two different people. Right now, you’re being Captain Levi. You’re calculating down to your next syllable and not letting yourself say what you want. When you’re Levi, you talk freely and smile and laugh. That’s why we never talk about your life or the Scouts, because you feel you can never talk freely around me about those things. You don’t need to protect me.” He looked down at the floor again, calculating what to say next. It was so frustrating that he couldn’t just speak like he was previously. He always had to be in control.

“Scouts die everyday. There’s no guarantee that I’ll come back. And when I’m back, there’s no guarantee that I can come and see you. I have paperwork and training and duties I have to humanity first. I will always be Captain Levi before I am Levi… since you see a difference in the two.” That changed the pace I was going at. I was going to continue to yell at him, but those last works…

“I’m not going to hold myself back because I’m afraid of what could happen. I recognize there are things I can and can’t control and I live with it. No one can live like that. You would never be a Scout if you lived like that. You would never be a Captain if you hesitated on every move or order you made. Right now, you’re eating yourself up inside because you want to control everything and can’t admit it to yourself that you can’t!” I squeezed my eyes shut, not caring if my words hurt him in any way. It was the truth.

“What will you do when I die?” My eyes shot open and locked with his. That emotion was there again. The sliver of something I could never put my finger on. The soft tone of his voice matched it. When?

“I believe in you enough to know that day will never come.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer and it made him lean forward, grasping the edge of the desk hard enough to make his fingers white. He was only a few inches away from me, but my anger clouded over the want to lean in and taste him again. Did he taste like tea?

“I’ll ask you one more time. What will you do when I die?” I shook my head at him, denying his death, and this time he hit the desk with his injured fist, “Why do you have so much blind faith in people? In me?”

“I was given a second chance at life because an old man had faith in a little Underground girl with burned hands. I believe everyone should be given the same. You haven’t done anything for me to lose faith in you. I don’t go out to see you off on expeditions because I know I’ll see you when you get back.” He seemed to almost collapse down in one big breath, his head between his straight arms, hands still gripping the edge of the desk.

The air in his office was tense. No one had probably ever talked to him like I had just did and my words probably matched the internal dialogue he’s had with himself. He knows that I’m right and that he’ll break down on the inside if he keeps trying to strive for total control.

I stood there looking at the back of his head, waiting for him to speak up. His hands kept clenching and unclenching the edge of the desk like he was thinking everything over again. The fact that he couldn’t control the his emotions in this situation, no matter how hard he tried, was probably beating him to death on the inside. Was he sad because once he rejected me, he’d lose the pretend world where he can relax and there isn’t a need to strive for control? Was he angry at me for speaking to him like that?

“I think I have feelings for you. I’m just apprehensive.” My eyes widened and I looked down at him, still crouched over at the other end of the desk. That wasn’t the emotion I thought he was experiencing. My heart was beating so hard he could probably hear it too. He just… I didn’t expect this to be the outcome of the night.

“What will you do when I die? Just answer the question.” This was his apprehension. He’s had to move on constantly from people who’ve died, outside the wall or under it. He’s strong, but he didn’t know how strong I could be. I’ve watched people die too. I’ve had to say goodbye countless times. I had to make sure he knew I could deal with pain and hurt as well, and not just my own.

“I’ll give you a nice funeral, wait a year, then move on to Commander Erwin.” The tension broke and he let out a huff of air in laughter before standing up. His eyes were back to normal, but this time a lot softer than when he was walking down the street. It wasn’t indifference, it was just from being relaxed.

“I can’t abandon my duty as a Captain. If I have work to do, that comes first.”

“Understandable.”

“It might be months on end where you won’t be able to see me.”

“I guess I’ll just have to get a mistress.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. The orange light from the sun setting behind us made it so I couldn’t stop staring at him now.

“I’m being serious here, Eva.” I sat back down in his chair, crisscrossed, still struck with his face.

“So am I, Levi.”

“I require monogamy.” I think that was him trying to make a joke so I indulged.

“I guess I can live with that. The bakery keeps me busy enough. If I have orders to fill out, that comes first.” I mimicked him and a small smirk crept up onto his face. That’s how I knew he was completely back.

“Understandable, but slightly saddening you put baked goods above me.” There was a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes and went over to answer it. I made sure I was out of sight of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing disturbing my sleep, cadet? Can’t you see my state? I should make you clean the stables for waking me up.” I could hear the nervousness in the cadet’s voice when he answered.

“I-I-I’m so… sorry, Captain! I didn’t know you were sleeping! Squad leader Zoë told me to bring you this!” There seemed to be an exchange of plates and the cadet was still shaking as Levi turned back into the room/

“Dismissed. Don’t come knocking this late again.” He kicked the door closed in front of the cadet saluting him and walked to the desk with two plates of food.

“I see now where the mean rumors come from. He was just delivering food.” He set the place down in front of me, ignoring my comment.

“Not Erwin.” He pulled the ottoman over so he could eat at his desk too. I smiled spooning some curry.

“Why not? I’m trying to climb the ranks.” He shook his head again.

“If you think I’m too calculated, then you’d hate him. That book you were pretending to read, he’s probably gone through that six or seven times. He stays up till dawn thinking about where a single person should ride in our formation to maximize titan spotting. He’ll have no time for you.” I pulled a face and he lightly laughed. Actually laughed.

“I guess I’m just stuck with you, Captain.”

Chapter Eight →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Now, we’ll start getting into actually AOT plot. Did you all watch the new ep today? Only got to see a part of our King’s face :(

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #aot levi #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi heichou #levi headcanons #original character

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palimpsessed · 4 years

Text

Steel Yourself

That morning in Las Vegas when Simon gets his hair cut has been in the back of my mind for over a year, and the recent Wayward Son anniversary reread and lots of talk about hair in the server, brought it front and center. So I decided I had some thoughts and I wanted to get them out.

I asked myself a lot why Simon did this one thing at this one moment. He's let his hair grow out for a long time, probably since the summer before eighth year, or at least the summer after Watford. He's even told us: "I haven't cared enough to get a haircut."

But when Simon does cut his hair, he's still in the same bad place mentally. He still doesn't see himself in a positive light. So why the change? And why this change?

For me, it all comes down to the timing. Timing is very important in terms of Simon's hair. Throughout Simon's life, you could tell the time of year by the length of his hair. At the start of every summer, he shaved his head, and the rest of the year, he grew it out. When Simon starts at Watford, his hair is still fairly short from the previous summer: "A Trojan 11-year-old with baggy jeans and a shaved head." (This is also the look sported by the Insidious Humdrum, which Simon created shortly before being "discovered" by the Mage and taken to Watford.)

Why does the length of his hair matter? Because the shorter it is, the more vulnerable Simon is. (And I don't mean like Samson losing all his strength when his hair was cut off.)

Simon spends months completely unprotected and cut off from all contact every summer. Those summer months in the care homes, exiled from the World of Mages, and the first 11 years of his life, Simon is at his most vulnerable. He doesn't have a family or access to his friends when he's in care. He can't really use or practice his magic. And he's left open to attack from pretty much any magickal or dark creature who feels like trying their luck. (See: fit goblin cabbie and suspected bonety hunter/pervert from the beginning of Carry On.) (Simon has more than one price on his head by the time he's eighteen. And the Humdrum could attack anytime. And the Mage's enemies could hunt him down to get their revenge on the Mage.)

The only person Simon is able to contact during the summers is the Mage, and I think we can all agree that makes him significantly less safe than if he was completely cut off.

Simon is most vulnerable in summer and that's when his hair is the shortest. The drastic change, the rude awakening of being thrust back into the Normal world alone at the end of each school year is perfectly signified by Simon cutting off all of his hair. (Also, undercuts: half-shaved, half-grown. Simon, composed of halves: Normal world/World of Mages; Chosen One/Insidious Humdrum; limitless wells of magic/inability to Speak; dragon/human.)

Once Simon is back at Watford, his hair grows in; the longer he's there, the longer it gets. The more months he spends back at Watford--the only true home he's ever had, surrounded by the only people who love him--the more security he has, and the less vulnerable he becomes.

Are the summer haircuts a necessity of living in a group home "with seven other discards"? Or just something Simon does on his own? It's not really made clear, but Simon does say "I shave it", which implies some degree of agency. I don't think it's uncommon to want to change one's hair (style or color) when life gets overwhelming. (2020, anyone?) It's a great and safe way to exert control over life and self when other things feel out of control. The thing about Simon is that he has never had control over his life; that's part of what makes him so vulnerable the years he spent in care, the years he was the Mage's personal boy soldier, the years he was groomed as Baz's enemy and the Chosen One born to take down the Insidious Humdrum. The length of Simon's hair seems to be the one thing he has control over.

When Simon is most vulnerable, he cuts his hair. In his case, it's an act of defiance, of agency. Cutting his hair is a way for him to be strong, to take control.

Let's move forward in time now to Wayward Son.

Even though he's left Watford and childhood and defeated "the big baddie[s]", Simon is still struggling through a life out of his control. He has wings, a tail, and no magic. He has no direction because he thinks he was born to die. He's burdened with years and years and years of trauma that he can't find a way to avoid or properly confront and he's decided to just stop trying to do either one.

Simon starts the book at his lowest point. And his hair seems to be at its longest, even though he's also at his most vulnerable. How does this tie into the point I'm trying to make?

Simon is not taking agency in his life; he's "lying on the sofa". Life is out of control again, but Simon hasn't shaved his head this time because he's given up trying to fight back.

I think subconsciously, Simon is now trying to use his longer hair as a kind of emotional armor. Short hair has been associated throughout his life with his most vulnerable state (and the Humdrum). Simon is essentially trying to build up a sort of physical barrier to the trauma that's constantly pushing in on him; trauma that he is trying his best to run from, to not face (including quitting therapy and telling his therapist that he prefers to have his brain close "off painful corridors"). Simon tells us that he hasn't "cared enough to get a haircut", but the implications seem to be much deeper than a lack of care.

We first see the hair-as-armor technique with Baz. Baz uses most aspects of his appearance as a way to craft his careful image of control. It's a skill he intentionally adopted from Malcolm. Baz practices his facial expressions and posture in the mirror to make sure that he's able to hide his emotions from the outside world. He cares about fashion, and puts on an expensive suit when he's going into a dangerous situation the way others would put on armor. Up until Simon kisses Baz in the woods, Baz's hair is kept carefully slicked back like a "gangster...or a black-and-white movie vampire". That scene in the woods is incredibly pivotal, but not just from a SnowBaz perspective. That's the moment that Baz hits his lowest point. He's convinced he's failed at finding his mother's murderer (and we all know Baz top-of-the-class Pitch doesn't handle failure well), and he's confronted, and been taunted by, the very monsters that he's been trying his whole life to deny he's one of. He doesn't care that Simon is there to witness his breakdown; he runs off into the woods and sets the fire he hopes will kill him.

That moment in the woods is one of just a few times that Baz allows himself to be vulnerable in front of Simon. And Simon is sure to comment on the state of Baz's hair when it's not neat and tidy. (Simon is very helpful.) There's the moment Baz finds out how Natasha really died ("His hair is in his eyes"), then after sharing magic out on the lawn with the dragon ("His hair falls forward"), which leads to them sharing magic on Baz's bed later that same day. These are incredibly integral steps along the way to Simon and Baz's truce and romance. Baz has to let down his guard so that Simon can see his humanity, his vulnerability, and recognize his own feelings, feelings that he's kept buried down deep because he's believed that Baz hates him and wants to kill him (and we all know what Simon does with painful thoughts). Each instance leads up to that kiss in the woods, after which Simon talks about the way Baz's "hair falls in a lazy wave over his forehead". Simon and Baz spend that night kissing and sleeping in each other's arms; they talk for the first time ever about their feelings for each other. Baz's hair is loose and wavy and not slicked back because he's let his guard down, he's let Simon in, he's let himself be vulnerable. And one of the first things Simon does when he kisses Baz is slide his hand into Baz's hair and mess it up; after kissing, this seems to be top of his list "of all the things [he's] always wanted to do to Baz".

And what does Baz do later on Christmas Eve, when he's getting ready for dinner after Simon leaves with Penny and Agatha? He slicks his hair back. It doesn't evade Simon's notice, either. (Nothing about Baz evades Simon's notice.) He "wish[es]" Baz wouldn't slick his hair back, because "it looks better when it's loose and falling around his face". Simon wants Baz to be vulnerable around him, and Baz was trying to put his armor back up when he was convinced that Simon wouldn’t come back.

Baz has more hair in Wayward Son. (I'm not even going to touch the body hair thing, so calm yourselves.) His hair is longer than it was at Watford, and he's able to grow a beard. Simon sees Baz's new, softer look as illustrative of Baz's maturity, self-assurance, and attractiveness, reasons that Baz is too good for him. ("He's coming into himself. And I'm coming apart.") But what Simon fails to recognize is that, as in Carry On, Baz's softer hair is actually illustrative of his emotional vulnerability.

Between Carry On and Wayward Son, Baz, like Simon, has grown out his hair, and he seems to prefer wearing it loose. He isn't the same boy he was in school; he has everything he ever wanted (Simon), so he can let down his guard. They're supposed to be living the happy ending neither one of them ever thought they'd get to have. He doesn't need to protect himself anymore, because he isn't living with the constant fear of being outed one way or another in a boarding school without escape. (He does still have to live with the fear of being outed as a vampire, but that concern has to be much less immediate now that he's outside of the only place that mages live together. He's under far less scrutiny in London and at university and far less likely to be discovered.)

And yet, Baz isn't happy, he isn't secure. He thinks he's going to lose Simon, that maybe he's already lost him. Baz now struggles to get his hair back under control (just like Christmas Eve), and their ill-fated road trip conspires against him at every turn. Baz's hair gets blown to hell when the convertible top breaks; Simon compares him to Mozart, then Baz compares himself to a member of a "hair metal band"; he can't use magic to tidy his hair, and even wetting it only gets him to a Bucks Fizz or Wham! equivalent; his hair gets "bushy and matted" in their fight with Jeff Arnold and his posse; Simon tells Baz not to ride in the back of Shepard’s truck because of “what the wind does to [his] hair”. (Remember the scene in the back of the truck? Yeah. Very emotional.) Baz's emotional turmoil is reflected in his diminishing physical condition throughout their trip. He finally lands on using his mother's scarf as a means of keeping his hair under control. He's trying to reclaim some of his emotional armor, because, as he tells us: "Simon Snow, it hurts to look at you when you're this happy. And it hurts to look at you when you're depressed. There's no safe time for me to see you. Nothing about you that doesn't tear my heart from my chest and leave it breakable outside my body."

Baz is in pain. He's trying to hold himself together and his hair is the perfect metaphor for this. The fact that he uses his mother's scarf to keep it under control harkens back to his method of aping Malcolm in Carry On. He turns to his parents for the means of bolstering his armor in the face of vulnerability (which we see play out much more overtly when Baz later contemplates calling Malcolm, and calling Fiona, for help with the NowNext).

(Side note about Baz's family. Want to talk about hair showing emotional vulnerability? How about Malcolm going white after Natasha died? The man is broken by his first wife's death and he never recovers emotionally, even though he's remarried and had four more children. He still can't express any emotion toward Natasha's son. Also, Fiona. With her natural white streak dead center in the front of her hair? Fiona is an absolute wreck of a human. She's volatile and self-destructive and vindictive and was also shattered by Natasha's death and before that, Nico's Turning. Both Malcolm and Fiona are permanently marked with signs of their emotional trauma with their white hair.)

I think post-Humdrum Simon has taken a page out of Baz's book, having always seen him as self-assured and completely in control in a way Simon never was. He's internalized the hair-as-armor technique as a misguided way to insulate himself from his pain, growing it out instead of cutting it off (with his "new length" being a physical representation of the barrier he's trying to make around all of the painful things in his head).

This obviously doesn't work. Simon isn't fooling anyone, not even himself.

In Carry On, Simon shaves his hair to exert control, and Baz slicks back his hair to project control. In Wayward Son, Simon uses his longer hair as a kind of shield against looking vulnerable, and Baz's longer hair reflects his vulnerability.

Wayward Son ends with Simon still in a very vulnerable state. If Simon thinks of short hair as being linked with vulnerability, and long hair like armor, then why did he decide to cut his hair in Vegas?

Because he did care enough to get a haircut; he cared enough to make himself vulnerable.

Why?

Because he's in love with Baz and he can't tell him, so he cuts his hair to show him.

Simon is being brave. He's taking a step and he's exposing himself in a way he's been too scared to do for a long time. Which is the crux of all of this: allowing himself to be vulnerable is actually a kind of strength.

The night before Simon gets his hair cut, Baz meets Lamb. Simon listens to Lamb flirt with Baz, and Baz sort of flirt back with Lamb, for hours, and can't do anything about it. When he does finally intervene, he sees them together, and he thinks Baz and Lamb are going to kiss. He thinks Baz wants someone else. He thinks Baz wants to break up with him. (He already did think so, yes, but at this point of the book, Simon has started to convince himself that they're "getting by".)

The night culminates in one of Baz's lowest points, drunk and draining birds in the hotel bath, bloodstained and forced to face the brutal reality that is his life as a vampire with three witnesses, one of whom is the love of his life. Baz doesn't ever want Simon to see him drink. He has to tell Simon more than once to leave the bathroom to try to maintain some part of his dignity and to keep Simon from continuing to watch (because Simon wants to watch).

This is Baz at his most vulnerable, and Simon is there for all of it. Again. And he wants so badly to be with Baz. But Simon is a mess and can't articulate his feelings. So he goes out and gets an expensive haircut to show Baz that he does care. He finally cares enough to get a haircut (to exercise agency over himself and his life). This is his way of trying to fight for Baz. It's completely off the mark (use your words, Simon) but it's sweet and it's well-intentioned. And it's brave.

Simon has two things in life that he's clinging to with all the power he has left in him: Baz and Penny. And that morning in Vegas, he's probably contemplating the possibility that he's going to lose Baz. (And, unless they get a break, Agatha.--Again.)

TL;DR: Simon cuts his hair, to try to get some control over his out-of-control life, to make an effort for his boyfriend, to try to bring back the part of himself from Watford who was a hero who could take on anything with his undercut ("and a belly full of magic"). It's vulnerability, but it's also strength.

Shaved or tousled, Simon Snow, I hope you get your well-deserved happy ending with Baz, and Penny, and Agatha, and Shepard. And therapy. Please, please, please therapy.

#meta #my meta #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #steel yourself #a heavy meta on hair #rainbow rowell #simon snow series #co/ws #awtwb #carry on #wayward #any way the wind blows

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