#don’t even get me started on the tension in s1

[piastrisun]

let me go.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader.

summary: when love becomes a battleground of dreams and unfulfilled desires, sometimes letting go is the only way to find yourself.

genre: angst.

word count: 2.6k.

warning: none.

notes: inspired by s1, ep22 of how i met your mother, ‘come on’. no use of y/n or any names at all. enjoy !! (maybe you won’t).

charles is at the desk you two share in your office, casually typing on the laptop you both share from time to time, when his face tightens in confusion. his eyes scan the screen, eyebrows furrowing as he scrolls through an email. the realization hits him like a wave. your name is in the subject line, followed by the words ‘congratulations’ and ‘art program.’ his heart pounds as he reads further: three months, starting this summer, in new york.

you, unaware of the storm about to hit, stand in the kitchen. the hum of the kettle rising to a boil fills the air, and you mindlessly pour yourself a cup of coffee. your fingers absently trace the rim of the cup, lost in thought. you don’t notice him stand up, the air between you shifting with tension.

“did you apply to an art program? in new york?” his voice is controlled, but you can feel the edge to it, like he's trying to stay calm.

you freeze, the water nearly spilling over the rim of the cup. turning slowly, you meet his gaze. “i just wanted to see if i’d get in, that’s all. i wasn’t going to go.”

he shakes his head, pacing towards you. “but... in new york?” his tone is incredulous, staring straight at you.

“i wasn’t going to take it, anyway,” you respond quickly, the words rushing out, as if saying them fast enough will make them true. you set the cup down on the counter, the clink of ceramic sounding louder than it should.

he takes a step closer, voice softening. “that’s always been your dream, and you’re not taking it, mhm.”

“but there’s a lot of things i’ve wanted to do… and i haven’t done any of them, so” you reply, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as if grounding yourself.

his eyes search yours, frustration laced in his next words. “and now? you decide to do it now? with everything we have lined up in the future? we’re about to get married.” his voice lowers, pausing for a moment. “no, you can’t.”

the mention of the wedding makes your chest tighten, a wave of guilt creeping in. “are you forbidding me from going?” your voice is calm, but the hurt is beginning to break through the surface.

he rubs his hand over his face, exasperation clear in his posture. “i never said that,” he mutters, pacing a little, his footsteps heavy on the floor. “but i don’t know, we have a wedding in a few weeks, and i was hoping you would be free that day."

silence stretches between you, the weight of his words sinking in. you feel the heaviness in your chest, like you're stuck between what you owe yourself and what you owe him. finally, you look up, your voice steady. “i’m not asking you to understand. or to be happy about it. i’m just asking for your support.”

his gaze sharpens, and he shakes his head again, frustration mounting. “support you? how can i support you when it feels like i’m losing you?”

your heart skips a beat, and for a second, you’re unsure of how to respond. “you’re not losing me,” you say quietly, but there’s a tremor in your voice, betraying the uncertainty you feel. “i’m still here.”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running his hands through his hair. “you’re still here? you’ve been accepted into a program in new york, for three months. that’s a whole summer. and you didn’t even tell me. you applied without saying a word.”

you bite your lip, guilt flooding through you. “i didn’t want to say anything because i told you, i wasn’t planning on taking it.”

he looks at you incredulously. “then why apply? why even put yourself through the process if you weren’t going to follow through?”

you look away, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you. “i don’t know. maybe i wanted to see if i was still good enough. if i could still be the person i used to be.”

“the person you used to be?” he repeats, his tone a little softer now, but still confused.

you rub your arms, trying to ease the tension in your muscles. “it means... i feel like i’ve built my life around you. around what we’ve built together. i haven’t chased any of the dreams i had when we first met.”

“i never stood in your way,” he counters, his voice quieter now, almost pleading for you to see things from his side.

you take a deep breath, the truth burning on your tongue. “i know. but i’ve settled for the fact that we have a home, and that i got a stable job—one that’s almost mediocre. it sucks, but that’s what i’ve been going through.”

his brow furrows, his voice strained. “i want to understand. i swear i want to understand. but i don’t.”

your throat tightens. you remember the younger version of yourself, eighteen and full of hopes. “do you remember when we met? i wanted to travel the world, study in different countries, learn everything i could. i wanted to be someone, charles. i haven’t been able to be that person anymore.”

“i love you, no matter what. you know that, right? i’ve always loved you.” his hand finds yours, holding it tightly.

you pull your hand away gently, shaking your head. “it’s not about that. i know you love me. i just— i don’t love myself. and i hate that i haven’t done anything for me.”

the silence is crushing until he speaks, his voice small, vulnerable. “but what if you decide that you want to keep pursuing art? and you realise i don’t fit into that world anymore? what if those three months turn into forever?”

you stare at him, your heart sinking. “charles...”

his gaze hardens as he leans forward. “because if you can’t promise that we’ll still be us after this, then maybe we should end it now. i’m not waiting three months just to have my heart ripped out.”

you feel the sting of tears in your eyes, your breath catching. “charles, i love you,” you whisper, your voice breaking as the tears finally fall.

he’s silent for a moment, his expression softening as he watches you, but the pain is still there, clear in his eyes. “can you promise me that won’t happen?”

you freeze. everything feels like it’s slipping through your fingers. your chest tightens as the words catch in your throat. “pause,” you plead, needing to stop, needing a moment to think.

he closes his eyes, shaking his head. “no.”

“pause!” you cry out, louder this time, desperate to hold onto something, anything.

he looks at you, hurt and frustration etched in his features. “why do you want us to pause?” before you can answer, you pull him in, kissing him with all the desperation, fear, and love you’ve been holding back. for a second, he hesitates, but then his arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close as if he’s afraid to let go. he kisses you back, but there’s a sadness in the way his lips move against yours—like he’s trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through his fingers.

as he pulls away from the kiss, your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps. you don’t let go of him, your forehead resting against his. his hands stay on your waist, fingers digging in lightly. his eyes are closed, and there’s a tension in his jaw that you can feel, even in this closeness. the silence between you is heavy, filled with things neither of you know how to say.

“unpause,” he whispers, voice rough, his breath warm against your lips. “you can’t just kiss me and expect this to go away,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm, as if he’s forcing himself to break the fragile silence.

you pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. the desperation in them mirrors your own, but beneath it, you see the fear too—the fear of losing what you’ve built together, the life you’ve shared, the future you’ve imagined. the moment feels unbearably fragile.

“okay.” you nod, wiping away a tear that has slipped down your cheek. “what makes this different from your job, charles? you travel every week for training, races, events. you’re gone a lot. and i’m with you almost every single time.”

he opens his mouth to respond but hesitates, the weight of your question settling heavily. “that’s different. that’s my career, i’m chasing my dreams.”

“and i’m not?” you counter, your voice rising with frustration. “you think i’m just working at a kindergarten because i want to? i love kids, yes, and i love teaching. but i have dreams too. art has always been my passion.”

his eyes flash with uncertainty, but he presses on. “but that’s a commitment. you would be living in another country for three months. we have our lives planned together. our wedding.”

“exactly,” you respond, feeling your heart pound. “you’re pursuing your career while i’m stuck here in a job that doesn’t fulfill me. i wasn’t even going to take the program, but now... it feels like i need to.”

he shakes his head, anger flaring again. “so you’re saying you would rather leave everything behind, including us?”

you take a step back, the pain of his words cutting deep. “i’m not leaving you, charles.”

he runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “and if it changes everything between us? what if you decide you want to stay in new york?”

“i wouldn’t know until i try,” you argue, desperation creeping into your voice. “you’re not giving me a chance to explore who i am outside of our life together.”

his expression hardens, and you feel the air thicken with tension. “then maybe we shouldn’t get married,” he says, his voice cold, an edge of betrayal slicing through the words.

the words strike you like a blow, and you stare at him. “maybe we shouldn’t,” you reply in a firm voice, as if you were sure of what you were saying when in reality you are not. both of you realise what you said and fall into a deep silence, staring into each other's eyes for a couple of seconds.

he clenches his jaw, anger burning in his eyes. “you want to throw everything away just like that? when i’m willing to build a life with you?”

“willing? you’re saying it like you’d do it out of pity!” your voice rises. what at first started as confusion had turned into rage. any word made them both burn inside. “you act like you’re doing me a favor, like my dreams don’t matter unless they fit into your plans.”

“it’s not pity! it’s because i fucking love you.” his fists clench at his sides, desperation flickering in his gaze as he tries to bridge the chasm forming between you.

“love shouldn’t feel like a compromise,” you snap, the heat of the moment fueling your anger. “you’re treating this like a transaction instead of what it really is—a partnership.”

“because it feels like you’re choosing this over reality!” he shouts back, the words slicing through the air. “i can’t stand by and watch you run away when we’ve fought so hard for what we have!”

“fought for what? a life where i can’t even be myself?” you retort, tears of frustration welling in your eyes. “we’ve been together for nine years, and we got together when we were eighteen. of course i don’t know anything but you!”

his eyes narrow, hurt mixed with fury. “so because of that you’d rather chase your move kilometres away than build a life with me?”

“building a life with you doesn’t mean i have to give up mine!” your voice rises, the fear and frustration spilling out. “i want both!”

silence hangs between you, charged with emotion, and the reality of your words feels like a dagger in your chest. the weight of what’s unsaid presses heavily on your shoulders. both of you just stand still there.

“you know you can’t,” he says finally, his voice trembling but full of raw intensity. he takes a step back, the hurt in his expression deepening. “and i know i can’t understand how you want to risk everything we’ve built, everything we are.”

“charles, i’m not risking it! i just wanted to reclaim myself before i lose everything, including you!” the desperation in your voice feels palpable, the stakes higher than ever.

he stares at you, pain twisting his features. “you think this is easy for me? seeing how you can’t choose me the one time i’m asking you to. you think i’m just going to accept that?”

“i didn’t choose it over you! i just want a chance to be myself again. is that so wrong?” you’re pleading now, your heart racing as you see his resolve falter.

his expression hardens again, a wall slamming down between you. “maybe you should have thought about that before you applied. you think it’s all just a game?”

the discussion was taking place in every room, until finally you reached yours. the one you cuddled in, slept in, where you told each other your dreams and talked about how wonderful your life would be when you finally got married.

“don’t you dare put this on me!” you shout, your voice breaking. “you’re the one making me feel like i have to choose! i can’t keep living for you while losing myself!”

“if you’re having these doubts, maybe you don’t really want this life with me at all.” he snaps, each word dripping with anger and betrayal.

the words hang in the air, a finality that feels suffocating. your heart shatters at the thought, and you can feel the walls closing in around you. “i didn’t have any trouble with this engagement until now,” you whisper, the weight of the decision crushing you.

he shakes his head, disappointment etched on his face. “i won’t pretend everything will be okay when you’re clearly not sure about us.”

without thinking, you start to gather your things—clothes, sketches, the remnants of a life shared. each item feels heavier in your hands, a tangible reminder of everything you’re about to leave behind.

tears spill down your cheeks as you try to grasp the reality of the situation. “i love you, charles. but come on.” but even as you say it, you know the truth: you need to find out who you are without him. the realization makes each movement feel like a betrayal, yet you can’t stop packing, each item a piece of your heart that you’re reluctantly setting aside.

“i love you, but—” his expression hardens, anger and hurt merging. “but if you walk out of that door, and we’re done. no second chances. you’ll have everything, but not me.”

“then this is where we end.” you nod slowly, feeling the gravity of his words. “i just needed to figure out who i am outside of our relationship. i’m really sorry you couldn’t even bother to understand it.” you add, voice steady but filled with pain.

as you zip up your suitcase, you turn to take one last look at your flat, your gaze lingering on the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls. smiling faces frozen in time serve as bittersweet reminders of what had just a couple of hours ago.

he doesn’t look at you, unable to meet your gaze, the silence between you heavy with unspoken feelings. you open the door, the cool air rushing in to meet you, a stark contrast to the warmth of what you’re leaving behind. with one last look at the man you thought you’d spend your life with, you step outside, the door closing behind you with a finality that echoes in your heart. as you walk away, the emptiness he leaves behind feels like a gaping wound. you stand in the hallway, your heart heavy, knowing everything has changed in a heartbeat. the future you once envisioned together now hangs by a thread, and all you can do is hope that, in time, both of you will find your way back to each other—or at least to the pieces of yourselves that have been lost along the way.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[crime-wives]

i don’t understand how people don’t ship swan queen. like… enemies to reluctant friends, to co-parents, to lovers. it could have been everything. all of that gay yearning. how do people not see it??? also blonde x brunette lesbian romances >>>>>

[littlelamy]

toxic!rafe x reader

a/n: this reminds me of s1 rafe so much :) enjoy!!

you step out of the fitting room, with the dim lighting casting a warm glow over your skin. the lingerie clings to your curves, the delicate lace hugging you in all the right places. rafe is seated on a plush armchair, his posture relaxed, but the intensity of his gaze gives him away. he’s been waiting for this moment, and you can feel the weight of his stare as you approach him.

rafe’s blue eyes are dark, stormy, as they travel over your body, lingering on every exposed inch of skin. there’s a tension in the air, thick and heavy, as if the entire room is holding its breath, waiting for him to speak. you know rafe well enough to know that silence isn’t a good sign—it means he’s thinking, calculating, deciding how far he can push you this time.

as he gets up, you feel his hands on your waist as he spins you, his touch both possessive and rough. it’s a stark contrast to the softness of the lace, a reminder that no matter how delicate you may look right now, you’re his, and he won’t let you forget it.

“mhm, I like this one,” he murmurs, his voice laced with something darker, something that makes your heart pound in your chest. “but you know what, babe? i think you like it because you know it drives me crazy.”

you glance over your shoulder at him, and the look in his eyes makes your breath catch. there’s a dangerous edge to his gaze, a mix of desire and something more intense, more possessive. It’s the way he’s always been with you—intense, overwhelming, like a storm you can’t escape. but beneath it all, you know he loves you, even if his love is twisted, tangled up with his need to control.

“do you like driving me crazy?” he asks, his voice soft, but you can hear the teasing beneath it. he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll play along or push back. and the truth is, you’re not sure which one he wants.

“i like wearing things that make me feel good,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can see the way his eyes narrow, his jaw tightening.

his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you back against his chest, his breath hot against your ear. “you feel good because you know I’m looking, because you know I want you,” he growls, his lips brushing against your neck. “don’t pretend like it’s just for you. you and I both know better.”

his words send a jolt of electricity and desire through you, the raw intensity of his hunger both thrilling and terrifying. rafe has always been like this, walking the fine line between love and obsession, and sometimes you wonder if he even knows the difference.

“rafe, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, turning you around to face him. his hands grip your hips in a rough but gentle way, making your knees weak.

“no,” he says, his voice cold, but his eyes burn with heat. “you don’t get to play games with me, not when you look like that. you know what you’re doing, and i won’t let you act like you don’t.”

you swallow hard, the intensity of his gaze almost too much to bear. there’s a part of you that wants to push back, to remind him that you’re your own person, but there’s another part—a darker part—that craves and yearns his possessiveness, that feels satisfied when he claims you so completely.

“i didn’t mean to—” you begin, but again, he cuts you off, his grip tightening just enough to make you feel it, to remind you who’s in control here.

“don’t,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “you know exactly what you’re doing, and so do I. you’re mine, and don’t you ever forget it.”

the words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged, and you can feel the tension crackling like a live wire. rafe’s eyes soften slightly, and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s both possessive and tender, as if he’s trying to convey all the things he can’t say out loud.

when he pulls back, there’s a softness in his gaze that’s almost startling. “i just… i can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice a low rumble. “you’re too beautiful, too perfect, too sexy. i can’t lose you, do you understand?”

you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. you know that beneath the harsh exterior, rafe’s love for you is real, even if it’s wrapped up in his need to control. and in moments like this, when his walls come down just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath, you can’t help but forgive him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t.

“i understand,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “im not going anywhere, rafe.”

he closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension slowly going away. when he opens his eyes again, they’re filled with a softness, and you know that no matter how toxic his love might be, it’s still love—and in his own way, he’s trying to protect you, even if it’s from himself.

“good,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “because you’re mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

and as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you realize that as twisted as it might be, there’s something intoxicating about being loved by someone like rafe—someone who’s willing to fight for you, even if the battle is against his own demons.

[funtheysaid]

IWTV 2x01 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)

- That title card for Delainey felt very stage play to me (ahhh I adore the theatrical elements for this season)

- Ooh I love the idea that vamps can take on the emotions of whosever blood they’re drinking - it’s like the vampire equivalent of when werewolves can smell ppl’s emotions and fears through chemosignals (a la Teen Wolf iykyk)

- “Disregard” is the funniest shit ever 😂 Oldmaniel they could never make me hate you

- There’s a Real Rashid OMFG ??? Lol imagine he’s not actually Rashid and they pull one over on us again I’d fucking shit myself

- “Your love was in a box” OH MY GOD EAT HIM UP DANNY BOY

- OMG OMG LOUSTAT ITS HAPPENIGN ITS HAPPENING EVERYONE SHUT UP

- I MISS YOU TOO LESTAT

- “Quite fucked” 😏😏😏

- “mon amour” “mon cher” “love” IM GOING TO EXSANGUINATE MYSELF ISTG

- The singular finger on Louis’ chin 🥲 so delicate so soft so bad for my mental health

- I like Emilia

- “They are not used to seeing man with good looks” OKAY I know they’re just racists BUT she also wasn’t lying bc beautiful Louis is canon god bless you Jacob Anderson

- Lol Morgan a little fruity

- OOH memory is a monster! They be redoing scenes as Louis “fixes” his memories !!!! That’s gonna show up again for sure :))))

- “Stupid Halloween costume” Daniel Molloy the brat that you are (is okay, Armand likes brats) *cough cough*

- I’ve never seen someone *elegantly* close an iPad before. Armand, you have bewitched me.

- The fucking sexual tension between DM is stifling 🥵😶‍🌫️ Um if this is us “not getting Devil’s Minion” then I think imma be okay

- Claudia pushing the little racist boy 🤪🥹 we can’t help but to stan

- WTF AMC you can’t just jumpscare me with a Grace photograph :’)))

- “UP YOUR BUM” EXCUSE ME MORGAN I KNEW YOU WERE FRUITY BUT SIRRRR?

- so the makeup department really put their whole sfxussies into that decrepit ass abomination

- Louis: Alexa, play Mr. Steal Your Girl by Trey Songz

- Claudia calling Louis Daddy in S1: ☺️🍭👼 Claudia calling Louis Daddy in S2: 😖🤢😟

- I’m dubbing Louis “The Rat Prince”

- “If he can’t take you ballroom dancing and call you pretty” ICONIC.

- “the motherfucker” it’s on sight Bruce or Killer or whatever the fuck your name was 🤕🥊

- “her hand twitched like yours would” why was that line lowkey out of pocket. My mans has Parkinson’s Louis !!!!

- SHE DREAMS 😭 MY FUCKING GOD STOP MY EYES ARE GONNA BE PUFFY WHEN I WAKE UP TOMORROW

- that wasn’t even acting that was some REAL shit. Get Jacob Anderson his Emmy or Oscar or Tony or whatever the fuck I just need him to be awarded for his talent

- Daniel’s soft compassionate side: rare but that much more meaningful when it makes an appearance

- LOUIS you did not just do Emilia dirty like that TF!?! She helped you dude.

- “Human affairs. Their problem.” Not you listening to Lestat now of all times

- “Catfish with teeth” Louis can really read a bitch to filth can’t he?

- AHHH THERE ARE TWO OF THE FUCKERS 👹👹

- Oh shit he’s a kid okay I’m sorry for calling you an abomination earlier. That was mean.

- Woman vampire, you standing precariously close to that fire 👀

- Delainey’s facial expressions are the perfect blend of innocent and slightly unsettling

- OPP INTO THE FIRE SHE GOES rip 🔥

- What the hell is a bacon triptych am I just stupid don’t answer that

- Armand you ain’t beating the iPad kid allegations

- “It’s his drug” He said that with such malice. Is this a “he needed me but he needed drugs more” plot line???

- So Dubai Loumand is chilly frigid tepid frosty glacial

- Free feet? Okay im sorry

- “We can have him saying what happened next in no time” okay wait hold up why you making it sound like YOU don’t know what happened next and you need him to tell you???

- oh danny boy whistling while the couple he’s counseling walks in… is this a comedy or ?

- Daniel: yeah? 🤓 Armand: yeah 🫦

- “the mother of New Orleans” oh he misses home

- LMFAO Daniel interrupting Armand before he can start soliloquizing

- Louis and Claudia in a truck full of art which they belong in bc they too are pieces of art to me

- hard words. soft words. 🥺

- “a shit life beats no life” god damn this monologue feels like Louis is speaking directly to my soul

- “as long as you walk the earth I’ll never taste the fire” If this is foreshadowing I- I- I don’t know what I’ll do but it’s going to involve a baseball bat and a waffle iron and my head

- “it would be enough” pan to Lestat 💀 you can’t be fucking serious right now you just cannot

- okay it’s over and the teaser for the season just started playing and I just have to shout out the score bc damn if those violins don’t get me every god damn time

(Stutter) That’s all, folks! 🐷👋

[blakbonnet]

[graphic by @ofmdlovelyletters]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK @xoxoemynn

I've loved featuring some of the most incredible artists in the fandom for the AOTWs, and thanks to Connie's (@spirker) big brain, this week is dedicated to some of the most beloved fandom authors. I hope everyone will go and check out their fics, maybe discover some new works or give extra love to older beloved fics. There will be 3 authors featured this weekend, please give it up 🥁 for the first one: Emy who we all love.

When I think of an author whose writing feels like a warm, lovingly prepared bowl of soup by someone who wants you to eat and eat well: I think of Em's fics. It's impossible to imagine this fandom without her - not just her words but everything she is and does for her friends. I also strongarmed her into answering a few questions for me (kidding, she was very gracious, I kept harassing her to send the answers over 😌 I have no shame):

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

First comes the idea, which usually presents itself as “haha, wouldn’t it be funny/weird/wild if XYZ… wait a minute. I think I might be serious about that.” Once I’m pretty confident I’m actually going to write the story, I make a channel for it in the private Discord I created to keep myself organized. I’ll start jotting ideas down — doesn’t have to be in any particular order, just tone, beats I want to hit, any particular detail that’s pushing its way to the surface that’s demanding the story be told, and also grab any links, images, music, whatever, and stash them away for inspo later. I almost always have to create an outline for myself, even if it’s just a few bullet points, because otherwise I tend to just sit there spinning my wheels. If it’s a longer story, I’ll create a pretty fleshed out outline, and may also supplement it with an emotions matrix to keep track of the characters’ evolving mindset throughout the story. Tragically, I’m very much someone who needs to write in order. I’ve tried skipping around before, but inevitably I start feeling the tension of “well, how can I possibly write Scene 10 if I don’t know exactly what happened in Scene 5?” But if there are some scenes that feel more vivid to me in the brainstorming phase, I may write a few sentences just so I don’t lose that energy.

One Ed/Stede headcanon that's very dear to you and you love to explore it when you write.

I don’t know if I have one specific one. I generally treat them as my all you can eat buffet and like to play with different ones all the time, depending on my mood. But I’d say my “tell,” if you will, is taking some kind of ridiculous concept (being horny for clocks, running a sleepaway camp for singles, tooth fairies) and sussing out the Big Emotions, which often do circle around learning to be vulnerable in front of the one you love.

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

When I first started writing OFMD fic after S1, I would have said Ed. There was something about that vulnerability and raw heartbreak that I found really accessible, perhaps because I was finally coming out of the fog of my own recent traumatic breakup. But as I spent more time writing and in the characters’ heads, I realized it’s actually Stede. I see a lot of myself in him, and have discovered getting his voice right is a rather cyclical process: the more I understand him, the more I understand myself, and the more I understand myself, the more I understand him.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

I’m going to cheat and list two. The first is The Merry Strays of Lighthouse Sanctuary, which is my heart story. It’s not the first thing I wrote for this fandom, but it feels like it. I wanted to write a fic with a setting that felt to all the characters the way so many of us felt about the show itself — a place of hope, where everyone is loved and accepted and celebrated for exactly who they are. The second, which is definitely a harder sell due to the subject matter, is All Of These Lines Across My Face, which is the most personal thing I’ve ever written that I think has taken on a new, more meta meaning since the cancellation. Love is eternal; it changes everything it touches for the better. Ed and Stede’s world was forever changed because they loved each other; our world was forever changed because we loved OFMD.

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Exquisite. But it’s NOT MY FAULT. They ARE exquisite!!! What am I supposed to do, just call them pretty? They are EXQUISITE!

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

YES! My beloved Hugo (@monksofthescrew/offsammich), who I’ve been working with since Merry Strays. I used to say I’d only use a beta if there was something I was particularly worried about in the story, but honestly Hugo makes everything I write SO much better that I don’t consider a story complete until her eyes are on it. Brainstorming the initial idea, helping me get unstuck in writing, pushing me to look at a scene from a different perspective, fixing all my verb tenses… truly could not do it without her.

Why OFMD?🥹

I found OFMD at a very transitional point in my life, when I finally started to feel healed from a few big traumatic events but didn’t know what to do now that I’d emerged from the fog. I experienced some panic that I had wasted too much time and the world had moved on without me while I was still struggling. OFMD showed me that it’s never too late, that you can always have a second (or third, or 300th) chance, that you deserve to be loved for exactly who you are, and, most importantly, that there’s always hope. It was like someone gently took my hand and said “I don’t care what your brain/society is telling you, there is a beautiful future in store for you, and you deserve all that it brings you.” These days it’s rare to find something with a message like that, that’s equal parts fierce and earnest. It’s something beautiful and precious, and I’ll be holding onto it forever. ❤️

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters and send your love for Emy and all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (part 2)

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition, some fluff

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities. she/her pronouns, but no use of YN.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family -- retelling these events through vignettes and letters to his daughter.

Chapters: Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter Word Count: ~6.2k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship.

Little bird, my Robin,

I’m not sure if you quite understand what a charming little one you are. I admit your burbling is beyond my comprehension despite my best efforts, but even when you are cranky and tired and screaming at us at the top of your miniature lungs, I somehow manage to find you so precious. (Though, of course, your mother and I fervently long for the days when you will allow us to sleep; I have never known this depth of frustration and I was known, before you arrived, for terrible sleep schedules).

Mama and I, we have had quite the story. I’ll tell you about it one day when you’re better able to understand what I’m saying to you, but for now I want to get into the practice of writing you letters in the same way she had written and saved many for me. I will, of course, be much better than your mother at communicating the contents and intents of each letter to you in real-time, so that you grow up only knowing love and never knowing loss. For now, I write this first letter to you. You’ll learn about the things I will tell you later on again, in history books perhaps or in your studies. But it might be interesting for you to learn about them directly from me, as well, so that you may learn about how the things in history-books tend to have real impact for real people.  

Robins are cheerful little birds, signs of hope and promise after seasons of strife. You, my dear, were born in a particularly difficult season, one that Mama and I continue to live in now. To best explain the story of how you came to us despite all the odds, I suppose I should start at the very beginning.

Now that I think about how I’d like to begin describing these events to you, it strikes me that I’ll likely only give these letters to you when you come of age and maturity; I don’t think these are topics that you should learn when you first become reasonably literate. We will store these in a safe place for you, so that the pages are fresh and strong when you first look upon them; rather than crumbly, yellowed, and strained. 

I digress. Where was I? Ah, yes.

It starts, my Robin, with a disaster that builds into tragedy. In the midst of it all, I was blissfully unaware of what transpired; Mama bears the brunt of the emotional fallout from this time so you must always be respectful to her, because I unfortunately had been quite rude to her in the immediate aftermath of this disaster. I’ve been atoning it for it this whole time, my dear, but I do have a secret: I think you are a large part of my absolution, especially because whenever Mama is irritated with me these days she tends to look at you, see how much you look like me, and is a little less grumpy after basking in your company. Let’s keep it that way, little Robin.

(I fear that your feeding schedule and its interruptions to my rest have left my thoughts unsorted, I apologize for the side-tracks.)

When your teachers tell you about the attack on the council, take care to consider the events beyond words on a page or facts to memorize for a test. We have all been impacted by it, and you are here in part as a result of the things that happened that day. 

It was a tense time. I… was in very poor health, and near the very end of my tether to this mortal plane. Nevertheless, I came to the Council with your Uncle Jayce (who, at them time, was beginning to feel like a stranger to me despite our years of partnership), because he and I wanted peace in a world that seemed to disagree. Imagine! Me, a frail and deteriorating Zaunite, crushing myself under immense guilt, and Uncle Jayce, strong in body and conviction but wavering under the pressures of entire societies. But we were doing what we thought was right; Uncle Jayce had made choices I never thought he would make and we both were seeking the abundant optimism and encouragement we wanted to bring to the world through our research in our younger days.

I’m not sure what they’ll teach you about Jinx. It depends on how the future shapes itself. I’m inclined to think that we are all complex beings that are subjected to chaos both inside us and around us, and even choices we are confident in may have the ability to grow into monstrosities we never anticipated. That happened to your uncle and I; I believe this, too, happened for Jinx.

I’ll spare you the details that you will no doubt learn in school. It was a missile attack, and the outcome was devastating. This was especially so since in those fleeting moments after I spoke to the Council and relayed Jayce’ plans, he and I were filled with that hope we were once so aflame with (and this hope, Robin, was in spite of the anger we incited instantly amongst the Councilmembers). It was radiant, my darling, with the bright light reflecting the explosive aspiration we held in our hearts. As you will know later, of course, everything broke mere heartbeats later. 

————————————————————————————

The first thing Jayce noticed was shrill, all-encompassing ringing in his ears. He tried to brush it away with his mind, but his body did not obey this command. Then in a panic he realized he noticed nothing in sight; merely black and grey and clouds billowing. His heart seized; where had he been last?

Finally the picture before him came into focus, in streaks of visibility between billowing, noxious clouds.

The other sensations followed quickly after, assaulting his nervous system with acrid stinging in his lungs, shocks of pain in his body, and the increasing awareness of other sounds beyond the internal ringing. What were those? They were screams of anguish, of pain, and of terror.

As he tried to physically orient himself, Jayce realized he was not where he had been before. Wasn’t he standing? He’d purposely put himself between Viktor and the Council, if only to metaphorically shield his dying friend from the brunt of the Council’s fury. Where was Viktor? Where was —

Mel. Mel! Jayce scrambled to his feet, a feat that took nearly a minute in the confusion but felt like milliseconds. His mind quickly began to sort events into a timeline; he vaguely understood this to be a fight-response, a survival tactic in disaster. There must have been an explosion, judging by the jagged edges of curled steel and broken glass he could see in pockets of clear air. If there was an explosion, it was from outside, given the direction of debris and decay. If it was from outside — Jayce shuddered, all the while staggering forward towards where the window once hang — then Mel had been the first to be hit.

He found her after tripping over objects that should not have lined his path; objects that were pieces of the ornate Council desks, shards of glass, gnarled metal, and also people. He screamed her name, maybe, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. She was slumped over a section of broken desk at an awkward angle, but to Jayce’ relief she appeared whole, if not unconscious and likely severely injured. It was impossible, really, based on what he knew about ballistics and explosives and physics, but he would receive any miracles that the gods would allow. He thought to shake her, but managed to remember that this would be unwise — she might have internal injuries — but he checked for a pulse. With confirmation that she was, in fact alive, he yelled for a medic, before realizing his voice was not the only one doing so. Instead, Jayce then set his jaw and glanced frantically around the room.

The dichotomy between Mel’s relative lack of being harmed and the rest of the room was jarring; the hall was completely unrecognizable and nearly everyone in it had been sent far from their original seats. Then Jayce noticed an odd pattern in the path of destruction; the people closer to the window and the main circle of desks seemed reasonably intact, but the building and furniture in that same radius was most certainly not. Attendants and assistants, most of whom had been standing near the periphery and the elevators, seemed to be in much worse shape (Jayce found his stomach rising in his throat at the sight he saw, but stepped away in time to vomit further away from Mel’s unconscious form); but architectural structures there only saw streaks of soot and flame and far less impact.

A wavering light caught his eye, but he couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t just the reflection of flickering fire or something emanating from the golden patterns on Mel’s back. He ignored this, instead lifting Mel’s body onto his shoulders with as little disturbance as possible. Jayce brought her past the elevators, past the carnage and into an unaffected corridor deeper in the building. He lay her to rest by the wall, whispering for her to stay alive even if she couldn’t hear him, then stumbled back into the fray.

Viktor. He had to find Viktor; no matter what miraculous defense Jayce suspected Mel had mounted, Viktor had already been on the precipice of death.

Jayce first spotted the mangled remains of Viktor’s crutch; scanning that area, he found his friend crumpled beside debris. He quickly took stock of the smaller man’s injuries, wincing at what he recognized as serious impalement, but found Viktor’s condition reasonably safe enough to move out of the chaos. With Viktor’s impossibly thin frame in his arms (and taking care not to jostle the debris embedded into his friend’s body), Jayce struggled back to the corridor. Flashes of the terror around him seared themselves into his mind that night; he later remembered Councilwoman Kiramman lying beneath a frighteningly large panel of destroyed stone, or pieces of Bolbok lying far away from the Councilman’s main frame, but he focused on getting Viktor to safety before returning to assist other less-injured people with rescue.

He rode in Mel’s ambulance, of course, in part because Heimerdinger had materialized shortly after the blast to watch over Viktor. The rest of the evening came only in fragmented blurs; Jayce suspected a concussion, but considered himself to be lucky if that was the only injury he would get away with. He kept Mel’s hand in his and made it a point to be grateful for the fact that it was still warm.  

—————————————————————————————————————————————

The peace we called for was obviously fractious. We hadn’t known then that Silco was no more and that Jinx was behind the attack. Rather, I knew nothing. I only came to later, then promptly entered the darkest fury of my life as I only knew that I’d been betrayed by Jayce through your mother’s assistance. This, in hindsight, I regret, but nevertheless there will always be a part of me that wonders what might have happened if the Hexcore had been destroyed completely — and a part of me that secretly longs for that alternate universe to the suffering so many have endured since then.

Of course, I am now mostly grateful for that ‘terrible decision.’ My mixed feelings do not negate the very real truth that I can be your father today because I was saved by your mother and Jayce. I have decided to not let this gratitude go to waste, but it shall forever be a cautionary tale for others. 

In those first few weeks, Zaunites and Piltovans fought fiercely, though in smaller, renegade groups. We were all fearful that either side would escalate into all-out civil war. It was a very real risk, back then. With nobody sure who started what, and families vengeful for their own fallen, any slight overreaction could have blown up the whole powder keg. We hadn’t known that there were greater threats beyond, but we could only see what was in front of us, what was local. And yet we couldn’t remember, for some reason, the shared origins of our two cities. We only saw the differences and the hurt.

Many people made bad decisions then. In fact, I was quite worried about those that your Uncle Jayce might make with his power and influence. We are lucky he’d chosen to attempt peace before the attack, because even if Jayce struggles to find the right answer, he does, fortunately, try his best. It’d been his decision to offer Silco what he wanted, and in those early weeks, Uncle Jayce tried to hold to that as much as he could even in the face of dissenters. I imagine he was still reeling from his own sins, and trying to hold onto his own hope — or better yet trying to emulate Auntie Mel’s measured stances. Regardless, we had a fragile stability despite many citizens entering into altercations. Or should I say that the ups and downs averaged out to something more even? It seemed that every other weekend we were promised a war between the two cities, and there were many weeks where we came very close. I think it is a miracle that the many battles fought didn’t tip over into much longer, formalized conflict; at least, between our two cities. We knew it would not hold for long, however, and when your Auntie Caitlyn’s mother finally succumbed to her injuries a few weeks later, we were incredibly concerned. 

——————————————————————————————————————

You couldn’t recognize the woman before you. What happened to the little sister figure who you’d watched grow up? Where was the fierce, intelligent girl who (like you) sought to break free of the shackles of upper-class decorum and instead work for a better future? No, the person staring back at you from the printed posters around Piltover was someone hardened by loss. It was someone who cut their teeth on the blades of their own hurt, and used their pain to fuel their development.

Caitlin had always been a serious markswoman, but you would never have expected her to rise in the ranks so quickly. How much if her meteoric rise had been due to the absence of her mother’s influence, or her own dogged pursuit of power, you’d never know. She was too young to be a sheriff, you thought. Not because she was immature but rather because she should have had more time to enjoy her twenties. You supposed that there were much smaller spaces for leisure and entertainment in those times; though most life went on as a hushed normal at the surface, the simmering resentments and fears underneath were never far from mind.

While the cities had not yet sought the other’s total destruction, festivals and the like had been cancelled for safety concerns. Fewer people wandered in the streets without company, especially after dark, but people still needed to eat and to sleep and to live, so children likely hadn’t noticed the suspicion and concern in adults’ eyes.

You glanced to Caitlyn’s right, surveying her personal hire to her investigation team. Through your father, you’d heard more about this Violet — or Vi, though you’d never met her. You tried to ask Jayce more about what had happened in the weeks leading up to the Council attack, but he’d been tight-lipped and more concerned with preventing societal collapse. It wasn’t possible to blame him, however. Mel was still comatose, though stable, and you knew Jayce was trying to keep Piltovan warmongers at bay while tamping down his own grief and rage. He slipped every so often, particularly if it’d been a bad day and he’d come back from visiting Mel’s bedside. With Viktor long gone to sequester himself away in Zaun, you took it upon yourself to remind Jayce that the previous undercity was not a monolithic hotbed of crime and terrorism. Heimerdinger tried as well, but he, too, disappeared frequently — and you suspected he had gone down into the depths in his own efforts to rebuild peace.

He certainly had no time to tell you about a former prisoner he’d made a tenuous ally of, much less one that appeared to be the sister of the attack’s primary suspect. You squinted at the poster again, frowning in reflection of Violet’s own conflicted expression. Your gaze flicked back to Caitlyn’s hardened gaze, and you realized that both young ladies were wrought with their own grief. In Caitlyn, you saw the tortured guilt of someone who’d long argued with her mother and now broke under her father’s mourning. In Vi, you saw a clearly uncomfortable Zaunite looking for any opportunity to find the remnants of the little sister she once knew, forced to join the Piltovans who had tried to subjugate her. At least, that was the best you could come up with given the shreds of information you knew on this new Caitlin and this stranger Vi.

You had no immediate sympathy for the woman named Jinx, especially not within the first few weeks after the attack when you discovered Viktor’s dance with death and he lay, unconscious and severely injured, in his hospital bed. But your rage needed somewhere to go, and since you were by no means a fighter, you channeled your anguish into providing aid directly. It was just as well; wealth Piltovans were not in any mood for philanthropic deeds, especially if any mention of Zaun was involved — thus you had little fundraising to do. You stayed local in those weeks, helping the poorer Piltovans who might have been targeted in smaller skirmishes, if only to stay close enough for any news of Viktor’s recovery.

You hadn’t expected the extent of his anger when he regained consciousness, but you’d been equally as furious that he’d hidden his prognosis from you until he was finally on death’s door. Viktor directed most of his fury towards Jayce, who knew the risks involved and the threat the Hexcore posed, but you were still surprised when he decided to move out of Piltover and into the new Zaun in the middle of this odd detente.

On worse days, you blamed the mysterious Jinx for your woes, but over time — and as Viktor’s mood began to thaw — you learned more about her through Jayce’ intel grapevine. Now glancing again at Vi’s tortured expression in a fading Piltovan sunset, you considered the splintering of their sisterhood and recognize the heartbreak in that uncomfortable gaze. Could those two (and their team) accomplish what they set out for? You weren’t quite sure. Jayce insinuated that there was a relationship between the two Enforcers, but you worried that the overlap between their investigatory objectives might wear thin. You wrote to Viktor in his absence, relaying your thoughts, but he’d only given inscrutable references to a former mentor of his who he suspected of being involved with Jinx.

Lost in thought on the steps of city center, you didn’t notice when your adoptive father pulls up beside you. Heimerdinger patted your hand, leading you to jump back in shock, but once you realized who it was and settled your nerves, you picked up on the weariness in his face.

"She’s likely a bright young woman,” he sighed, shaking his head in sorrow. “Her sister, I mean.”

You balked at that. “You’ve met Jinx?”

“No,” Heimerdinger replied. “Prior associates, perhaps, but not her. I—“ He paused. “I remember when our two cities were one, and I’ve watched brilliant young minds in both triumph and fail under the circumstances they never asked for.” His expression grew long at that, and you realized he was thinking of Viktor’s own time under his care.

Your wounds still raw, you bristled. Your father knew about Viktor’s death sentence and failing health, and yet he never deigned to clue you in. He’d given you excuses that he was under Viktor’s instructions, but that hadn’t mattered to you. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, and you felt betrayed by your father’s discretion. He seemed to understand where your thoughts drifted, and remained silent for a few beats more.

“My dear,” Heimerdinger tentatively began again. “I am gravely concerned. There are more threats than those from between our two peoples.” He took your hand in his, patting yours gently. “There are those who would take advantage of our strife to bring both our cities to their knees.”

You told him he was being cryptic, and started for the gates of the Heimerdinger Estate. But his words remained in your mind, always at the edge of your uncertainty and concern, and it would not be till much later that the premonition he anticipated would come true. 

————————————————————————————————————————

But never mind all that; by the time you read these letters I hope we will be living in a vibrant, thriving world and not one besieged by war. Thus I turn to the silver linings from that period.

I angered your mother very much when I left for Emberflit Alley. I don’t know if we’ll be living there, or at your grandfather’s estate, or somewhere in between, but I hope that by the time you see this you will have been to my little laboratory in the Entresol. I have many fond and not-so-fond memories there, but all the unkind memories are long in the past now that you are in my world and my heart. Your mama visited me as soon as I allowed her to. I recall that reunion with great clarity; it was a very exciting few days back in each others arms, but after the excitement faded away we were still left to grapple with my guilt, her hurt, and an uncertain future. I sent her away several times after that, and moodily so, so if you end up rather impetuous I might be to blame for that part of your personality (though Mama is as well). Still, we’d been apart for so many years that we couldn’t help but keep gravitating back to each other even when we tried to stay away for safety, self-healing, and individual growth. Your mother says she wanted to have you as early as then, but I was in no shape for that.

You see, the reason I’m alive today is because of a peculiar technology and the greatest sin of my life. You’ll likely have seen one of my Hexcores by the time you read this, but the one I’m referring to was the first — and it was corrupted. I carry deep grief as a result of my stubbornness with that Hexcore specifically, and thus I promise to teach you everything I have learned from my mistakes so that you will never have to experience them.

With this one, something was gravely wrong. We hadn’t known that at the time, your Uncle Jayce and I, and it is only in retrospect that we know about the Void and its corruption of this specific Hexcore. Your papa was very foolish back then, little Robin, but I was also quite desperate. This Hexcore wanted to control me, to use me as its vessel, but at first I’d only seen it as a gift. I realized later that it must be destroyed; I asked your Uncle Jayce to do so but after that disaster — that tragedy — your mother asked him to use it to save me. And so he did.

It became a part of me then, a part of my survival and part of my story. But it couldn’t stay; I knew that it would consume me and then I wouldn’t be the papa you will get to know. I learned many things in those months, because I worked hard to figure out a way to stay alive but be rid of that corrupted Hexcore. That’s where I learned to be a surgeon of sorts, and I studied feverishly to find a way out of my predicament. I also continued with engineering, just like your Uncle Jayce, and through the technology we developed I made Blitzcrank what he is. In Emberflit Alley, I built a great many things to help our fellow Zaunites; some things to clean the air more affordably, other things to make work easier for weak bodies, and more to bring prosperity to those who had little of it. Some of Uncle Jayce’ Piltovan colleagues were not pleased about this, and even some Zaunites (who, you should never ever interact with, little one — stay far away from chembarons and their people, even if they are your fellow citizens) truly disliked my work.

All of this progress, however, was not enough to ease my concerns over the Hexcore. Yes, living conditions improved for others, but I never felt safe with that first corrupted prototype. And if I wanted a future — a real one, not just borrowed time — then I needed to be in control of it myself. So with great effort I replaced the void-touched parts with mechanical ones I built myself. That may sound scary, but living with the Void was much more frightening and I couldn’t bear with myself if it endangered your mother in any way. Besides, if you saw those parts you’d laugh; they were clunky and ugly, but by now they’re much improved.

You may have been told a number of things about that time period. Not everything you’ll hear will be the truth, from either your Piltovan or Zaunite friends and teachers. Remember that you are always welcome to ask me or your mother, and we will carefully tell you the truth we witnessed with our own eyes.

————————————————————————————————————————

Viktor was backed into a corner. What madness was this? The little Kiramman girl, emerging from the shadows with a hard look etched into the lines of her face, seeking to take him in?

He figured her investigation had turned up his name; Heimerdinger kept Viktor appraised of the topside Enforcers’ campaign against this Jinx, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the new sheriff in town connected the man called Singed to both himself and the blue-haired fugitive. It was odd, though, as it had been Caitlyn herself who had provided Jayce and you with a small vial of Shimmer when he stood with one foot through Death’s Door. She would have known about his involvement and his research and how benign it must be, but why would she have been looking for him now of all times, weeks after her campaign was well underway, and weeks after Viktor had sequestered himself in the Entresol with his golem, his tools, and his loneliness?  If anything, Viktor was grateful he’d made it a point to send you back topside when Emberflit Alley became suspiciously quiet. Having you by his side in this specific moment would have been disastrous.

As he surveyed the look in Caitlyn Kiramman’s eye, he knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to put the members of her own circle under surveillance if it would help move along her objectives.  He glanced to his peripherals, noting several cloaked Enforcers circling towards him at the end of the alley. Not ideal, but he would be damned if he was taken in on nothing more than a paranoid suspicion. Now was not the time to be separated from his work in Zaun; with a dogged sheriff on the chembarons’ tails, the innocent civilians of Zaun needed medical assistance without strings attached more than ever.

“I wouldn’t do this if I were you,” he warned, fingers tightening around the latest prototype of his Hexcore-powered staff. (‘It’s a deterrent, not a weapon,’ he’d told you when you first saw it. But he was decreasingly convicted in his own definition; whatever deterrent effect he’d hoped the Hexcore would have seemed not to be working as intended. “I am no traitor, and you of all people should know that.”

“Forgive my inability to take your words at face value,” Caitlyn replied steadily. Her finger remained on her rifle’s trigger; eyes still squinting through the scope. “First you run from Piltover, then I learn you’re one of her—“ The sneer in her voice made apparent to whom she was referring. “—known associates? You’ll need to come with me, Viktor, if you want any semblance of a topside future with Heimerdinger’s daughter.”

He flared up at that; how dare anyone threaten the fragile hope he held onto for decades?! His emotions ran wild and angry, and the Hexcore — damn, he hadn’t yet managed to completely purge his biomechanical connection to it still — responded with its own flicker of crackling energy. Viktor sensed the whole alley tensing at the sensation, and he knew then that there would be no saving his insistence that the Hexcore wasn’t a weapon of destruction.

“I fail to see how I might be a known associate if I’ve never met Jinx,” he replied. It took every bit of his personal pride to keep his temper stable. “So without reasonable suspicion, I believe I will not be joining you.” Movement to his left caught his eye. “And I wouldn’t take another step closer, if I were you,” he warned the Enforcer.

“I have no time to dance, Viktor,” spat Caitlyn. “Lower your staff, now!”

Viktor remained where he stood, amber eyes glaring out at her from beneath the dark fabric of his hood. He kept silent, attuning his senses to the several Enforcers eyeing him warily with weapons raised. He wouldn’t hurt them, not first, and not unless it was a last resort. What he feared was being backed into his final corner.

Caitlyn began to pull on the trigger, a minute movement that Viktor noticed through instinct alone.

So be it. He couldn’t be taken; people needed help and protection, not only from criminals within Zaun but from unwarranted topside aggression. He couldn’t be taken; he needed to continue his work on severing his physical connection to that angry, disturbing Hexcore — months imprisoned would impede any hopes of progress. He couldn’t be taken; his arrest, no matter how unjustified, would irreparably damage Heimerdinger and your reputations by association alone, and he’d worked too hard to let his family, topside or not, be taken from him.

When the Enforcers nearest him lunged, Viktor exhaled, closed his eyes, and allowed the Hexcore to release a burst of pure, radiant energy. Then he ran, ignoring the cries of surprise and fear and squinting past the blinding light he’d unleashed on his adversaries. He bounded past Blitzcrank’s hiding place towards the opening of the alley, beckoned along his golem, and darted into the nearby safe house he’d kept anonymously registered for this purpose.

You’d hear about this, certainly. But Viktor hoped that your faith in him would help you see past the propaganda and widespread fear, and trust in his character. It was a weak hope in fraught times as these, but Viktor hoped nonetheless. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Once I was confident that the void was gone from the Hexcore and it could be developed in complete safety, I let Mama stay with me for good, and I stopped pushing her away. She was much happier about that, but we were mostly relieved that I could stay alive, healthy, and strong without the corrupted core. Lots of things happened before then, many difficult things, but I was very happy to be safe for Mama eventually.

Even so, our relief was short-lived. The fragile peace we had was broken by external threats, and many bad things began to happen to everyone in Valoran. These problems are not yet fully resolved, I’m afraid, but everyone in your life is now committed to fixing them for the betterment of your future.

In the midst of the sheriff looking for me and everything being quite scary for the regular people in both our cities, Auntie Mel’s mother was incredibly cross with Uncle Jayce and how he responded to the big disaster. Remember, Robin, Auntie Mel wasn’t healthy as she is now. She was in the hospital, stable but unable to wake or to fully recover, and she was there for many months. Auntie Mel tried to save all of our lives because she believed in diplomacy and peace, and she saved mine even though I imagine many of the other Councillors wouldn’t much care about my life. But while your Uncle Jayce was very angry with Jinx, and very worried about Auntie Mel, Auntie Mel’s mum was even more angry. She wanted revenge, and in Uncle Jayce’ decisions she saw weakness. She interpreted that to be an opportunity; one for her people to exploit. 

It was chaos, little bird. Your grandfather stopped appearing in Piltovan public, too distressed at the warmongering he saw. In fact, your brave grandfather met me often, in secret, to help me care for the injured Zaunites and yes — sometimes Piltovans too — in all the fights that were to come. I, regretfully, had to fight too, as did your grandfather, but we did our best to only do so when the alternatives were worse. I hope that by the time you can read this letter that I won’t need to fight anymore; you deserve a future that lets children play in the streets and enjoy a life without fear.  Where was I? Ah — Ambessa. (That’s Auntie Mel’s mum’s name. I imagine she’ll be in your history books…)

Noxus, where Ambessa and Auntie Mel are from, is a strong but frightening place. I’m lucky I’ve never had reason to visit myself, but they are a rather proud, fearsome people who value strength immensely. Remember when I said that Ambessa saw weakness in Uncle Jayce’ decisions? Whatever Uncle Jayce and his colleagues said was what Piltover was saying, and Ambessa thought that Uncle Jayce was being a bit soft in trying to find the woman named Jinx. As unforgiving as Ambessa is, Auntie Mel is still her daughter; I believe in some sort of way, Ambessa loves Auntie Mel just as much as we love you (although Mama and I will never try to hurt thousands of people for you. You have our promise). Because Auntie Mel was very badly hurt, Ambessa wanted to catch the culprit and felt that a strong military response from Piltover to Zaun was necessary. When Uncle Jayce didn’t do this to the extent she expected, Ambessa brought Noxus down upon our two cities.

This was very scary for everybody; remember, lots of people kept fighting between Piltover and Zaun, too! But of course the most troubling part was that the very rich, very powerful, and often very corrupt were the ones who stayed the most safe through this all; they could afford better medical care or hiding places or all of the above. No, the people getting hurt the most weren’t even the ones behind what happened to me, your uncle, and Auntie Mel on that disastrous day. It was regular people, just like you and me and mum; people who just wanted to eat their meals and enjoy their time together in Valoran like every other day.

In fact, it was humans specifically who suffered most. Unlike your grandfather, or Councilman Bolbok, survival for these regular humans was very difficult. Many sick people were pulled into fights or injured on accident; they often weren’t strong enough to recover, if they didn’t have good health or money or a safe place to live beforehand.

Blitzcrank tried to protect a lot of them, but when I went to these people and helped stabilize broken bones or reattached limbs, it became very clear that what they wanted was their own strength — not to rely on groups with questionable incentives like the chembarons to keep them safe from Ambessa or Enforcers. I started using my new skillset to help them, too, the way I started to mend myself.

Lots of people didn’t like that. People who hadn’t known why I was doing what I was doing thought I was doing very bad things to the people I tried to help; they didn’t understand the benefits of mechanical augmentation and thought I was trying to change people into something they were not. Uncle Jayce was very uncomfortable with it as well, but we didn’t talk much then so I didn’t have to hear him argue with me about it. I was trying to do what he and I wanted all along; use Hextech for the betterment of society. But I understand; progress can be scary and foreign and it was even difficult for us to have Hextech accepted by the public. I didn’t expect most people to accept physical modifications that quickly, but I did often think that many disagreeable opinions were driven by fear and uncertainty.

Mama, you must understand, did the best she could to accept and comprehend my work. She did really well; even if she was unsure about man-machine supplantation, she knew that I was only trying to help people who wanted it. But I made her really mad one day, Robin. I learned a lot that day about how I might perceive my life’s work and discovery, and how others might as well; it was an important experience for me, and I was deeply humbled by her.

Well, I say this now. But I was just as mad at Mama back then. Adults aren’t perfect or smart most of the time, but we do our best. 

[x-0ophelia0-x]

A true hearts message.

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x F!Reader Warnings: Ahsoka S1 Spoiler! This was written at 3 AM -> should be proofread now

word count: I‘ll add it tomorrow

summary: you always felt strange feelings when Ezra was around you. Just when you finally decided to listen to your heart, it was too late. You were never able to tell him what you felt, and the same goes for him. When you finally found him alongside Ahsoka and Sabine, you both felt finally complete again.

authors note: thank you @densenubi for the idea! I hope you like it, had so much fun writing it, especially the beginning 😭😭 considering that it’s 3 AM right now, I’ll go to sleep and correct the mistakes tomorrow if there are any major mistakes c:

well then, this one even has a little bit of angst <3

Our everyday life’s are filled with various kinds of what if‘s. 

They became important parts of our lives, accompany us throughout our most important decisions and even define us.

What if‘s belong to the greatest questions we could ever ask ourselves.

And what makes them so great? So individual? So special?

The fact that even we don’t and never will know the answer to them.

But most importantly. 

The fact that depending on what we chose, the ‚what could have been‘ will automatically be replaced into a ‚what‘ll never be‘. Destroying the chances of the opposite one to ever exist again.

-

„I don’t understand how they can be this oblivious towards each other“

Hera whispered, watching you two closely from afar. 

„Who? y/n and Ezra?“

Kanan asked while he leaned himself against the wall, looking at Hera. 

„Who else? Of corse I mean them!“

He chuckled at her. She was kind of the crews mother figure, she saw y/n, Ezra and Sabine as her own. Which was kind of the reason why she always got so excited when they were so close towards each other. 

But they were oblivious, even Kanan saw the tension between them and he is blind!

„I mean you can’t really see them.. but the way they look at each other or act around each other.. it’s painful to watch“

She sighed but Kanan only chuckled at her. 

And as if there wasn’t any better timing to her shipping you with Ezra, your faces moved dangerously close as you sorted the crates, gazing into each others eyes. 

The blue of his eyes always mesmerized you, and the same applys to Ezra with your e/c ones. 

You both stood still, basically panicking inside.

And Hera couldn’t contain her excitement any longer while she was still observing the scene.

„Oh my force! I think that they’re gonna kiss!!“

She whisper-yelled at Kanan. He shrugged it off.

„Wanna bet?“

„Bet on what?“

„I don’t know, choose something. If they kiss you win, if they won’t I win“

He said while grinning. 

„Okay then, the winner gets to eat a breakfast prepared by the loser to tomorrow. Prepare yourself though.. I‘m sure that this time they will finally feel the tension between them“

She said proudly, so sure that she’d win that bet. 

You felt your heart pounding faster, heat rising into your face and he felt the same. After staring into each others eyes for who knows how long you both moved your heads always from one another. Staring to the ground as if to avoid to lock gazes again.

„sorry I-„

„I didn’t mean-„

You both began simultaneously and then stopped, getting nervous now.

„You first“

You both started again, still avoiding eye contact. 

After hearing the same words from the other, you both started to laugh. 

Finding it funny how you both fell into each others words.

„I‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to come to close“

Ezra then said catching up his breath.

„Me too, I guess we‘re just both clumsy“

She replied while feeling the feeling of unease wash away and be replaced by a newfound happiness. 

„Clumsy you say? That was a perfectly synchronized attempt of a conversation“

He joked, also feeling how the unease was fading away as they continued talking. 

Hera at the other hand was dumbfounded. 

How where you two so blind? 

Her excitement washed away as she heard Kanan clear his throat. 

„Seems like I win“

He said victoriously.

„Just because you don’t see their bond and think of the negative!“

She whined, struggling to believe that once again, you both friendzoned each other. 

„I don’t always think of the negative“

He shrugged.

„I just know my Padawan and his inner struggles very well, I‘m his mentor after all, he tells me everything“

Kanan continued while he ‚looked‘ at her direction.

„So, you make the breakfast tomorrow?“

He asked with a smirk. 

-

You were back in your cabin now, laying on your bed while reading some reports on your datapad. 

Everything you could think of right now was the short moment you had with Ezra earlier. 

You couldn’t help but notice some kind of strange feeling taking over everytime you spent time with him. Sometimes it was warm, other times it was a rush of excitement but once again you didn’t know what it was or why it was there when you were around him. 

He is your best friend, of corse you’d spent time together or organize pranks against Zeb and Chopper.

But as of lately you noticed a change.

Whenever you walked close side by side your fingers were barely touching each other.

Whenever you talked about your stories, being your life when you where still small or his life back in Lothal, you felt as if you could trust him everything. 

Knowing that he wouldn’t judge you or see you any less. 

Whenever you had a mission you found yourself concerned for Ezra. 

Well, you were concerned for the whole crews well being, but Ezra kind of was the first person you had in mind when you heard an explosion or someone starting the blaster fire. 

And as if those observations weren’t enough, you noticed the crews strange behavior towards both of you. Always grinning whenever you where close. 

Being excited when you and Ezra hugged or trained together. 

But he was your friend. He didn’t see you in that way. 

And that was totally fine. While you still tried to decipher that strange feelings meaning, you were happy with how the things between you two where. 

Not thinking too much into it. 

The day had other days for you though when you heard someone knocking at your cabin door.

„Yeah?“

You asked.

„Can I come in?“

The voice asked, who you recognized as Ezra’s.

„I don‘t know if you can but you can try“

You answered, closing the datapad and sitting up, stretching your arms while he opened the door.

„Didn’t know that you were on your joker era“

He said, chuckling when all you did was to shrug.

„just one of my many mysteries“

You joked, looking at him and noticing that he was hiding something behind his back.

„Care to share?“

Ezra nodded, looking kinda proud of what he was about to show her.

„Zeb and Sabine returned from the mission and..“

He revealed what he was hiding behind his back.

It was a stormtroopers helmet. A new one.

„Didn’t have this one yet, it’s perfect for my collection! What do you think??“

He asked her, his excitement evident in his voice.

„You sure do love those helmets“

You laughed, looking at it while you tried to take in it’s features. 

„Well, I‘m Ezra the collector Bridger, loved by most, feared by stormtroopers“

He said proudly, acting as if he was twice the height he had, deepening his voice while he held the helmet high. 

Everything you could to was to watch in awe as he spoke about his collection, starting to feel the familiar feeling again. 

-

Nearly one year passed and a lot of things changed. 

First, that strange feeling you had grew stronger.

Whenever you and Ezra spent time together you felt some kind of tension between you two. 

At first you shrugged it off, thinking that it was just.. not gonna lie you didn’t even know what you where thinking.

But you for sure knew that you found comfort in Ezra’s presence, feeling safe around him, knowing that he’d always be there for you when you needed him, and the same counted for him. 

And just as you started to understand that strange feeling you felt whenever you were around him, everything changed. 

A lot happened to be honest, but the most important thing right now was that Ezra was on that ship.

The very one that was now being ‚held‘ and moved by the many purrgils you all saw through the window. 

It has to be Ezra’s doing. You were sure, connecting with creatures through the force is kind of his signature move. 

Everything that happened after that was just a blurr of memories. 

You could only remember seeing that the purrgils where preparing themselves to jump into hyperspace.

The panicked voices of everyone, trying to convince Ezra to leave the ship.

Your attempt to bring him back.

The extra amount of concern you always felt for him was stronger then ever back then. Deep down you knew that he wouldn’t come back, not as long as Thrawn was still there. This was his chance to get rid of him and you knew that Ezra wouldn’t back down from this.

He wanted to keep his family safe.

But unbeknownst to you, he even more wanted to keep you safe. 

“…. and remember, the Force will be with you. Always...”

And just like that he was gone.

There were no traces to where the purrgils could have taken the ship.

No known planets where they could have been.

Not a single hint to where he was now.

Ezra was gone and just when you saw the ship disappearing into hyperspace, you immediately felt a peng of pain in your heart. 

The closeness you felt, the warmth and the little excitement were gone.

As if they never existed. 

In that moment you just felt numb, slowly starting to understand everything.

Putting pieces together, recalling your memories with him, everything you felt.

All of that was gone now, replaced by a sudden worry, fear and emptiness.

It was just then when you realized that you started to fall in love with him.

That everything you felt was your body trying to tell you to listen to your feelings, to your heart instead of your brain. 

It all slowly came back to you and it was just that moment when you realized that you ignored the feelings for over a year now, while he was still by your side.

You had the chance to tell him.. but instead you chose to betray your feelings, keeping your mouth shut about this, scared of you he’d react. 

And now you realized that you ignored your heart for to long.

The moment you accepted your feelings for him, was the moment you lost him for maybe forever.

He was gone now and you never had the chance to tell him that he was loved. 

And all you could think about was about the ‚what could have been‘, followed by the bitter truth of ‚what‘ll never be‘.

The Version you'd be living now.

-

10 years passed by and they were the longest ones of your life. 

The events on Lothal plagued your mind.

His voice was a constant part of your dreams.

The memories from before that day replaying endlessly in your head.

The regret you felt since that day, of not telling him sooner or in fact just tell him about your feelings being unbearable. 

The mere thought that he could be dead by now, or suffering, making you even sadder.

And now?

Ten years later, after everything that happened, you found yourself on a Planet called Perridea. 

It was the purrgils’s cemetery, a destination they all had when they felt that their time had come to an end.

And now you were here, with Sabine and Ahsoka by your side. 

Finally fulfilling your personal mission, finding Ezra and to bring him back where he belonged. 

It was a chaotic reunion. 

Some kind of crab people found you, recognizing the sign on Sabines armor.

Even if you had troubles with communicating with them, they knew Ezra’s name.

Sabine then somehow asked them if they could lead us to him, telling them that we were his friends.

And that’s how we ended up here.

Standing in between the houses of the crab creatures, looking around, taking in the sight while trying to understand that this was the place where Ezra was living for 10 years now.

„I knew I could count on you..“

The group then heard, immediately turning around to lock gazes with the person in front of them.

He stood there, leaning himself against a wall while He had a warm smile, one she didn't see in a while now.

It was him.

Ezra was here.

Just when Sabine and Ahsoka hugged him, holding him into a tight embrace which seemed to be never ending, it was your turn.

Ezra had in fact the same struggle like you.

After he was stranded here, managing to escape from Thrawns flagship, hiding himself from his troopers, he had more then enough time to think and meditate.

And one thing that he noticed was that he felt that something was missing.

Not the fact that he was trapped in another galaxy, but a certain someone.

This someone being you. 

He also felt a new kind of feeling when he was around you and this feeling disappeared when he left Lothal, or well, his galaxy behind.

He realized that the only time where he followed his heart was when he sent himself away with Thrawn, straight into another galaxy.

Only to keep his family and his planet safe.

Especially you.

And just like you he was too late to accept that earlier.

One question left him sleepless during nights.

What if he had told you about his feelings before it was too late?

It all didn’t matter now though. 

You were the next, looking straight into his eyes while walking closer to him. 

You both pulled each other into a tight embrace, holding onto one another as if your life’s depended on it.

Taking each others warmth, scent, heartbeat and presence in.

You both were too scared to say something, not knowing what to say in the first place after all those years.

Instead you stood there, enjoying the moment and each others presence.

Ahsoka and Sabine stood before you, watching you as your hug now really seemed to be endless. 

The tension between you two was undeniable, but at the same time you both were just happy to finally relax under one another’s welcoming embrace.

They both grinned, just waiting for you two to kiss already. 

Sabine already shipped you both with Hera, back when Kanan was still alive.

Ahsoka started to ship you some time later, seeing you now though, reunited and relieved really filled their hearts. 

For the first time in a decade now you felt complete again, and the same went for Ezra.

When you pulled apart, you both started to take in each others features.

He was a man now, the boy you once knew grew up.

„you‘ve grown..“

You whispered, a hint of hapiness in your voice.

„would be worried if not.. it’s been some time“

He tried to joke.

„Even have a beard now.. now you’re not longer Ezra the collector Bridger but Ezra Bridger the wise“

You replied, returning to his sense of humor. 

„Hey..! I‘m not that much older!“

He then laughed, gesturing to his hair.

„See? Not one grey hair here. Totally young“

Ezra continued, giving you the proof you didn’t need to understand that he was mentally the same person you knew 10 years ago.

As for him, he was just happy that you managed to find him.

And when he showed you the small village, walking around and explaining them how they found him when he was in danger, he and you once again walked side by side. Very close even.

So close that your fingertips were touching his. 

This time you both didn’t pull away, but you also weren’t confident enough to walk hand in hand. 

Ahsoka and Sabine noticed that and couldn’t help but share knowing looks. 

Old habits die hard after all.

[blues-valentine]

Honestly I think hsmtmts s1 started with very typical idea of Ricky and nini being the boy/girl next door, Childhood friends that date kind of thing. With Gina and ej being the mean, scheming counterparts. It was so obvious from the posters and their costumes. But I guess none of the writers anticipated what a force sofia Wylie would turn out to be. She has a presence that just demands attention. She's the best actress of them all, best Dancer and her chemistry with Joshua is on another level. Plus the character of Gina turned out to have fascinating layers. All this combination outshined nini. Nini and Ricky were originally supposed to be main characters and though Ricky stayed a main character throughout the show, nini, never felt like a main character to me, even in season 1. She was sweet and good and had a straightforward arc that wasn't nearly as interesting as other characters. Plus she had no flaws. Ricky had issues, he had flaws that made him interesting. Same with Gina and ej.

And I feel the same with rini. They were sweet but kinda bland. Portwell were much better, interesting and deserved better treatment from the writers. And rina is rina. Sizzling chemistry. Best ship.

This is no hate to olivia, my problem is with nini. Honestly I completely forgot she was part of this show in season 3 until she showed up in last episode.

I had this in my drafts and I remember responding to it but forgot to post it.

I think the show marketed themselves as very typical Disney in the way that you could kind of tell what narrative archetypes the original core 4 were supposed to be, especially if you relate it to the movies. Nini as the girl next door with so much talent but didn’t believe in herself until she’s suddenly the star of the show. Very girl underdog narrative. Ricky as being her first love and the cute dorky guy that doesn’t put effort but somehow is magically talented, plus the network promoted them as their “Troy and Gabriella” so the audience was supposed to believe they were their rightful successors. Even some of the posters promised that “love triangle” between EJ/Nini/Ricky as a relevant plot and we know that wasn’t the case. And just by the posters and trailer you could’ve guessed Gina and EJ were the “antagonists”. But as I said, it was a marketing tactic because tropes and love triangles sell, and I was also a bit too skeptical but ended up genuinely surprised.

I definitely agree Ricky and Nini’s romance was very bland and I was not rooting for them at all even on Season 1. I found them so cringy, very Disney cooking cutter and they were clearly not right for each other. I was attracted to Gina’s arc from the start so imagine my surprise when she went the opposite direction of what she was marketed as and then developed a way more interesting character arc. However, I do think the show failed Nini because she could’ve been more interesting. I liked her but I agree her arc was too straightforward and a bit too boring at times only saved by Olivia’s voice but there’s a lot of people that still don’t get her arc at all, which is why they still ship her with Ricky even if it was literally against Nini’s character growth.

Funny enough, when I watched 105 I ended up feeling like Ricky and Gina had so much potential and their chemistry was interesting but I wasn’t sure if the show was going to follow that up because it wasn’t very Disney like. Very rare do Disney shows follow the second lead romance pipeline. And I am so glad I was wrong because Ricky and Gina elevated the show by having them develop a very tension filled arc and it did felt very much 00’s coded so I ended Season 1 feeling like they had to go there at one point because it would be a wasted potential. By Season 2, I was sure they were endgame. No questions or doubts. The narrative made it very known and I never doubted that for a moment.

So, PW was just as bland to me, the narrative was forcing them badly with obvious and cringe dialogue. It lacked subtlety, it was very much in your face. As if they wanted you to ship them so hard and were overdoing it. But not even in a good way – there was not care or thought put into their scenes. The music, the implications. It was not done in a way that screamed endgame. And them also being a thing when Ricky and Gina were not speaking was a plot device to keep the endgame in the won’t they/will they situation-ship. I still believe it was a mistake to put them together because it was clear it wasn't going to last and their dynamic worked best as platonic. EJ worked better when he wasn’t put into a situation to be Gina’s plot device. PW was a mid-game ship and was treated as such. The narrative wasn’t hiding it. It was there for Gina to experience her first relationship before she gets with Ricky since their build in narrative has always been about second chances, the right timing and opportunities. I think they deserved a better closure on Season 3, but I am glad they eventually got it on Season 4. However, they were always meant to be a plot device and I didn’t expect anything else from it. The people convinced they were endgame clearly didn't want to see the show for what it was saying.

Rina just had the it factor to me. It was very reminiscent of the old ships in which their story line wasn’t too straightforward and it was told by the parallels and foreshadowing which is a huge factor as to why Ricky and Gina had such compelling arcs individually and together. Ricky being the stability Gina needs and Gina being the person that pushes Ricky forward by taking him out of his comfort zone. They give each other what the other needs and wants. That’s what their storyline has been about since Season 1 and nothing compares to their chemistry. It was undeniable since the start even when some people wanted to deny it.

[egcdeath]

LISTEN!! The implications of you bringing up the tomshiv open marriage at the wedding convo in combination with the patrick art kenstewy-esque relationship are making me go crazy!! Like especially if there’s shared history among all THREE of you? The misery and hidden hurt and uncertainty and communication difficulty you would both be experiencing early on in marriage especially since art’s always hanging around you both stirring shit up (even if it’s not on purpose sometimes) because he’s also in contention for the top spot would be even worse than it was for tom and shiv.

Also continuing with the tomshiv storylines imagine the s4 hidden pregnancy angst?? especially because at that point you’re all closed off from each other and you’re in this weird mildly toxic love hate marriage after you’ve admitted all the real truths you feel about your relationship and the sadness to each other (like s2 finale sad beach convo) and you’re on opposite sides in so many ways at that point but still find your way back to each other for all these charged moments and emotional conversations because nobody truly gets you or sees you or stimulates you like he does and vice versa. And you love him and you love the status that being with him gives you and you’ve tried to make your marriage work even with both your hangups and hidden agendas but you both want more. you’re making your own power moves and alliances without and even against him like tom did and if it all ends the way succession did?? will it kind of kill patrick inside in the way that it did shiv?

OR if it’s like kendall and rava the angst of feeling alone in your marriage and everything always ending up being about him even if he doesn’t mean to make it that way all the time especially if you’ve got kids that he kind of forgets about sometimes… his daddy issues and addictive controlling personality taking over your relationship and the screaming matches and the messy “please still love me back we are not breaking up” hookups if you try to leave him would be so soul destroying. Self-destructive pathetic repressed failson (ex?)husband patrick is such a concept wow imagine it unfolding kinda like s1 kendallrava except you don’t ever really divorce and he really doesn’t want to because you’re still his wife and he needs that in his life

Oh my god this au is killing me there’s SO much to think about

anon you just ate SO HARD by combining the tomshiv open relationship scene with a dynamic where art is like stewy and has kinda been a roadblock in their relationship before. i mean i can’t even believe it. the dynamic of patrick and art vying for the same position AND after you is just so delicious to me i can’t even believe it. the ensuing angst and failmarriage would be tooooo good.

also loveee ur second paragraph. shiv pregnancy storyline was very tragic for me to watch for so many reasons so i just KNOW it would be devastating to write. i love ur point about all of the tension and how they’d just come together for these very emotional and charged moments bc that is just soo patrick. like obviously it’s also tomshiv but who’s doing a SUPER charged conversation like patrick zweig? like i can’t think of any better character to be arguing with and mid argument you call his earlobes thick and chewy like barnacle meat. or playing bitey with patrick?? bye.

anyway… i’ll just leave this here.

also your kendall/rava dynamic thoughts are way too good. like loving patrick and wanting to support him and being genuinely worried about him but he just keeps spiraling and getting worse to try to get his father’s approval (that he’s obviously never going to get) and he’s starting to kinda continue the patterns by being a bit of a deadbeat to your kids and you really really do care about him. but there’s no way your relationship can continue the way it’s currently going and you know that it’ll be best for your kids (and for you too tbh) if you get divorced and split from him but you also know that he’ll spiral even worse without you by his side so you’re conflicted! and you do end up staying because you love him even though you kinda feel more and more unhappy by the day (can someone say FAILMARRIAGE!!!) and your marriage kinda is deteriorating but you both refuse to acknowledge it even though there are the screaming matches and the frantic “please love me” hookups when patrick starts thinking that you’re going to leave him.

let me just say i was initially more of a fan of the the tomshiv dynamic but after hearing your thoughts and thinking a bit…… im not so sure.

i mean. look at the material.

[mushiemellows]

Okay. Okay. In light of the opla news, here is genuinely how I think opla s2 is going to break down (I know everyone has made post like this and I probably have at some point in the past too, but this is my predictions.)

I genuinely don’t think they’re going to do Alabasta. They could do a speed run of enter the grand line to get there, but I don’t think they’ll do that, if the pace of s1 was an indicator. There’s a few reasons but tbh I think the biggest is politics? If I was a Netflix exec and someone asked me to approve a script RIGHT NOW politically, and the script was about resource exploitation in the Middle East, I would uhhh probably reject it. I honestly think they’re going to do Loguetown through Drum Kingdom and leave it there for the moment.

So it would go:

Ep1: Loguetown that uses the character moments to catch us up to speed, get the audience reacquainted with the straw hats, plus smoker, plus put buggy and Alvida back on the board. Smart money is on a barto cameo. If they take their time, really cycle through everyone, episode will prob end with Luffy on the stand. (Smoker gets the logo treatment since buggy already got one lol)

Ep2: escape Loguetown -> reverse mountain -> early laboon. Again, hindsight will add a lot to this, at minimum we’re getting another binks no sake Easter egg, if not a full blown human brook cameo. Episode ends somewhere about 2/3 of the way through them in the whale. I could see them padding this quite a bit, just knowing all we know now. (Laboon gets the logo? Maybe??? I could see them giving it to Roger or Crocus too)

Ep3: Leave Laboon-> a lot of vivi plot -> enter whiskey peak. Party sequence. Start of the night attacks, high tension, zoro fighting the town drawn out into a huge sequence. Like a big ass choreo moment. Probably ends on the “luffy vs zoro” cliffhanger. (Vivi gets the logo)

Ep4: if if if they’re smart, they’re going to have robin in whiskey peak early, not necessarily introduced with Higaram’s assassination attempt. This episode would be quite a lot of her. Rest of the whiskey peak fights, the full baroque works breakdown, the miss all Sunday intro, leaving town, AND her giving the Alabasta vs little garden deal. I think if they’re writing this the way I think they might, she’ll either follow them to little garden OR she’ll be at Drum Kingdom, just to keep her around a bit longer. Like really drive it in that she’s spying on them. (Robin gets the logo)

Ep 5+6: little garden. I don’t think they can do it in 45 minutes, I think they need both parts. (Big brain move with the logo treatments to have one be Dorry and one be Broggy). This is pretty straightforward, idk. Excited to see zoro cut his legs off. Here’s also the start of the crocodile breadcrumbs, but I can see them using Robin as the face of baroque works a little more to utilize the actress.

Ep 7+8: drum island. This way, they only have to animate chopper for 2 episodes, 7 will probably get the basics of the backstory, and 8 will have the rest of how hiriluk dies. We could possibly see some Blackbeard info here. I’m still team “detective pikachu” style chopper. End the season on the Sakura tree happy note, set up early Alabasta. (Chopper gets one logo, Hiriluk or Kureha gets the other) Wapol as the big bad sucks though which is why I can see them injecting either more BW, Smoker, or Blackbeard into Drum.

I think the is season is going to feel a lot like season 1 did, like they’ll have the quick pace of going to a bunch of places the first portion, then 2 longer stories. But I don’t think they’re actually doing Alabasta properly. Also, I think we’ll pull back from Buggy and Garp, but they’ll still have their moments.

I’m pretty firm that I don’t think they’ll ever get past skypeia (a fact that makes me sob for the loss of opla franky but it would be a MIRACLE if we ever even got to w7. But I could see them doing it if they distilled seasons 3 and 4 in a certain manner. I just don’t think it’s likely, knowing how many years this’ll all take at the pace Netflix makes shows. Can talk more about this if someone asks lol). I’d love to be surprised tho.

If they’re still in casting, plus accounting for the writing hiccup of the writers strike in preproduction, we’re probably looking at a late summer 2026 release? It’s a Loooooot of cg though, between Luffy, chopper, little garden, and drum kingdom.

[jtl07]

jt (finally) watches warrior nun - s2 e1 (pt 1)

Slowly, slowly making my way through s2 e1 (finally!) so I think I’ll just post as I go because this is gonna take me a while. Plus it doesn’t help that it’s these avatrice scenes lol

So let’s talk about that first avatrice scene (I’ll be referencing this video clip throughout because making gifs and me don’t mix) - and wow, I did not expect that to be right at the start. They really weren’t messing around in building up avatrice for this season huh?

Anyway, three things that stuck out to me in this scene: 1) how tense Beatrice is, 2) conversely, how easily she bends to Ava, and 3) that was not the first time Ava has kissed Beatrice.

(Gonna make separate posts for each of these because oops, this got long)

First, Beatrice’s tension - I mean this both in an emotional and physical way. To start with the former: Bea scolds Ava for chatting up customers and talking about Adriel, but how did she know when she was upstairs?

As in: In order for Bea to have known this, she either has super-hearing and can hear from upstairs (or planted listening devices/spy bugs around the bar - that actually would’ve been interesting but still unlikely) or she went downstairs, witnessed the interaction - likely huffed a bit lol - then went back upstairs. And somewhere in that sequence, she asked Hans to get Ava for her.

That seems a lot, no?

It did make for a cute intro to Bea though, seeing her pop out like that and in civilian clothes, but idk, it just makes me amused at how … extra, how tense, how wary she is. Even after two months, she’s still wound up - though, perhaps if she’s aware of her feelings for Ava here, then this is her reaction to that awareness: to be more strict, more tense, more discreet.

Because I feel like to Beatrice, “discreet” is less about not attracting attention and more about being hidden. It fits how she’s functioned thus far - hiding her self behind being a sister warrior (remember what Beatrice said in s1 e8? “Pain is what made me a sister warrior” not, “Pain is what made me who I am”), hiding and hating her queerness.

So it makes sense that Beatrice would see Ava “chatting up customers” about Adriel and instead of engage Ava right there (or even be the one to ask her to talk instead of Hans), she instead chooses to hide herself away.

Huh. I just realized - hiding is Bea’s version of running away.

Okay this is kinda fascinating because all the talk about running has been about Ava, which has been deliberate and I’m looking forward to seeing that arc play out, but huh, I never thought about Beatrice running. She runs from her feelings - examples that are coming to my head are when she denies her jealousy, but we also have her physically running away from Ava when they have the balcony talk (i.e. the “I let my emotions blind me to the mission” scene).

But Ava doesn’t let her hide - Ava’s the worst at hiding, really. She’s too bright, too open, and, this is part of my second point (which I’ll make a separate post for because this is already getting long lol), that it’s Ava’s light that brings Beatrice out of the dark, that eventually gets Beatrice to bend and release that tension.

Okay, need to end this here, will be back with the other points ... sometime soon. Hopefully lol

[leavesdriftinginthewind]

Alright, after wallowing in Weyler despair for 8 hours yesterday, one of my friends shook me out of my stupor and helped me realize that all hope is NOT lost.

There was good reason to believe season two was never going to be heavy on Weyler romance anyways. Tyler’s kind of insane, his Hyde side has taken the wheel, we don’t know what it’s like for a Hyde to have to grapple with not having a master, and the writers said that Tyler doesn’t even know what his true feelings for Wednesday ARE right now. He doesn’t know if what he felt for her was real or was manufactured because of Laurel’s command to get close to her. On top of that, Wednesday allowed herself to fall for Tyler only to have her feelings promptly and horrendously crushed. She’s going to be so closed off to romance, and likely so closed off to HIM. She’s not going to want to put herself through any of that again for the foreseeable future.

All that said, it would be kind of crazy to have them not cross paths again in season two, so I assume we WILL be getting Wednesday and Tyler interactions, and they WILL be wrought with tension, because that is just the nature of the relationship at present. Will Jenna WANT it to be interpreted as romantic? Probably not. But does she REALLY have a choice in the matter of how it’s interpreted? No. And it’s a fact that they were romantic, she can’t act like it didn’t happen.

And perhaps they use this season as a way to build a solid, honest, legitimate foundation for Tyler and Wednesday. They DO need to learn to trust each other, for Tyler to genuinely trust Wednesday with his whole heart and for Wednesday to trust him again. Where we are now, Wednesday could HATE him for what he did to her, but she knows that there’s more there and that everything’s not his fault. She’ll need to tap into that funny thing called forgiveness.

And Tyler, poor Tyler is confused and ANGRY and hurt and he has a hatred but he doesn’t know who or what it should be directed at. Wednesday?Nevermore? Laurel? They BOTH need to heal their respective wounds and probably learn to trust each other if they are meant to come together to defeat the s2 big bad. They’ll need to LISTEN to each other’s sides and be open and honest to get to that point. And when the season ends, they have a connection they KNOW is real and genuine and we can grow from there.

And while this is going on, Tyler CAN realize he has romantic feelings for Wednesday and that what he felt for her in s1 was genuine, not manufactured through Laurel’s commands (as the showrunners alluded to wanting to explore in s2). But perhaps as they rebuild their relationship, as Wednesday learns to trust him again, he doesn’t want to jeopardize just HAVING her in his life, so he keeps it quiet. And that’s something that can be explored further in s3.

If this happens, if we watch them rebuild their relationship, basically start from scratch so they’re something solid at the end of s2, then maybe in s3 we can watch it turn romantic again. And then we HAVE the foundation, we WATCHED it get built so folks can’t say “they came out of nowhere,” because they didn’t. We watched them rise and fall and burn and rise again.

Are we being delusional? Maybe. But I’ll hold onto my delusion until they stab me in the gut with whatever garbage is packaged as season 2 (and who really knows when we’ll actually be seeing it anyways with the writers’ strike going on?).

[harleyxhoward]

The Umbrella Academy S4 (thoughts & opinions)

- HOT TAKE: The issue I had with Five and Lila getting together wasn’t the bizarre age gap or insensitivity of Five sleeping with his brother’s wife, but how they don’t resolve the tension properly before they all cease to exist. Specifically Diego and Five don’t get to hold hands the way Lila and Five did, even though it wasn’t really up to Lila to “forgive” Five, but whatever. I thought that had this affair been treated with an ounce of consideration it would reveal a lot more about both characters shared desperation for affection and emotional stimulation. Five spent decades in complete social isolation to the point where he legitimately fell in love with a mannequin and you want me to believe that, given the similar scenario that most certainly triggered the same “well I guess I’m stuck in this shit now for an indefinite amount of time” area of his brain, he wouldn’t have resorted to falling in love with the fist available person regardless of what it meant outside of the subway? Lila too seemed to get with Diego because while they did click in S2, she had never lived a life that allowed her to experience romance or starting a family like she could with Diego. She pumped out three kids to seemingly force herself to enjoy what she knows could be taken away from her at the throwing of a time traveling briefcase, but her behavior this season is baffling because what do you mean after seven years of searching for a way home she never once brings up missing those three children until the opportunity to return home presents itself? She tries to wipe her hands of the situation, but then the show just kind of ends without meaningful conclusion, so…

- The ending was sloppy. I know you know that, but my issue wasn’t the actual end. The Hargreeves having to sacrifice themselves in a way indicative of the S1 finale makes perfect sense, especially with the painfully shallow Five Diner down in that unexplained subway station where they all indirectly allude to the fact that there’s never a condition where at least one of the family doesn’t end the world. Had the Fives took time to explain that each Hargreeve possesses earth shattering abilities that eventually snowball out of control regardless of the condition, and all resistance is futile, I would accept that the ending makes more sense than just blaming the marigold despite the fact that Victor can/has been able to syphon marigold out of people, and could’ve just taken it all himself but you know, whatever.

- I also deeply resent that a show about familial trauma and bonding despite the shared adversity ultimately concluded on everyone giving up. No. You don’t get to say that they “didn’t just give up” because yes, them saying “oh no, well, there’s ten minutes left of the episode, guess we should cease to exist now” is the definition of not even trying to venture down into the subway as a family and fix the other timelines one at a time, using their newfound familial unity to solve every timeline until they converge into one. I’m not saying that needed to happen at all, or that they should have succeeded even if they tried, but AT LEAST THEN THEY WOULD HAVE TRIED. The writers gave up, the characters gave up, and the metaphor of grief and family issues the show spent so long to cultivate were just abandoned.

- Klaus regressed with no substantial reason or impact other than to provide slapstick humor and comedic relief antics that didn’t amount to any of what he had spent the last few seasons building and working towards. Ben shouldn’t have been brought back after his noble and meaningful sacrifice of S2 only to be made into the most obnoxious version of himself. Allison didn’t even get to say “I heard a rumor” this season nor did she address attempting to sexually assault Luther, and Diego’s relationship with Lila was the absolute worst case scenario for both characters. Viktor was the only one with an arc worth watching this season, which is why I thought him having a solo sacrifice would have been even more gut wrenching but whatever.

- There is an insurmountable amount of plot holes that prove this show just got lazy. There should be a kugelblitz in the finale’s timeline. If Lila/Allison were never born then there could never be Grace/Lila’s children. You don’t get to say “well what about the subway” because that doesn’t protect them from the grandfather paradox, unless outright stated which the writers didn’t even bother to do.

- Why didn’t they just kill Jennifer? Who put her in the squid? If it was Reggie’s wife then why didn’t she just kill her? Why didn’t Reggie kill her when he built the town to “protect” her? Why did she react with pure terror when shown the squid? How did Jean and Gene get their hands on it? Was it a normal giant squid or an alien? Was it her mother? No, because then how did she speak English when she emerged from its stomach? Why did she say “the cleanse” like she knew what it meant when she didn’t? Ben should’ve been able to remember in the OG timeline how he died because absolutely every other spirit does and the show can’t just rewrite its own lore to cater to a last minute subplot that went nowhere. I don’t want to be mean but Jennifer never should have existed as a S4 add in because she did absolutely nothing for the plot other than confusing the audience with the persistent question of why didn’t they just kill her to prevent the cleanse from happening. Reginald said one of them had to die, but in the OG timeline he killed both just to be…cruel? What’s the point of writing that it just had to be one of them if you’re just going to act like it’s a package deal? This entire plot line made me truly believe this season was written by AI, I’m sorry.

[ridiasfangirlings]

post betrayal/pre s1 yata won a overseas vacation and leaves for a couple of weeks and fushimi looses his mind for a day cuz every single thing reminds him of yata

Fushimi walking by the house of someone who owns a chihuahua and it starts barking at him as Fushimi’s all ‘sometimes I can still hear his voice….’. Imagine Fushimi only even knows that Yata’s on vacation because like Anna or Totsuka decides to tell him, they figure Fushimi might be upset if he notices that Yata’s missing and decide they should make sure he doesn’t worry. Fushimi of course just clicks his tongue and is all ‘don’t care, don’t talk to me’, but really he has absolutely noticed that Misaki hasn’t been around lately. He was probably coincidentally walking by some of the places Yata’s been known to work, like not that he was actually looking for Misaki or anything, it just happened to be on his patrol and if he was looking inside well maybe there were some Strains or something around there. When Fushimi says he doesn’t care Totsuka just smiles and says well, I hope you don’t feel too lonely Fushimi. Fushimi clicks his tongue again, like what a stupid thing to say to the person who broke things off with Yata to begin with.

Except then as the days go by Fushimi is absolutely getting increasingly on edge and more snappish than usual, wondering how long Yata’s vacation is anyway and when will that idiot come back. Fushimi refuses to entertain such thoughts for long though, like why does he even need Misaki and anyway isn’t his work easier without anything to distract him. He goes out on patrol and hears a skateboard and immediately he’s turning with one hand in his coat going for a knife, only to realize that it’s just some random kid going by. Fushimi gets this disgusted look and mutters ‘stupid’ under his breath, like what is he even getting excited for. As he continues to patrol he happens to look up while passing a store and suddenly finds himself standing in the window staring at this black beanie set up for sale. He finds his hand reaching up to scratch his scar and quickly turns away, hands in his pockets and back hunched as he goes back to patrol.

Soon a couple weeks have passed and it’s not like Fushimi misses Yata or anything but every time he spots Doumyouji’s red hair out of the corner of his eye he does a double take. Whenever S4 runs into Homra he’s all tense and smiling for a moment before he realizes that Yata isn’t there and now he just doesn’t care at all, playing on his PDA and looking dissatisfied (and imagine Totsuka just waking over wondering how Fushimi is holding up while Fushimi’s blandly like I have no idea what you’re talking about). Seeing cars makes him think of the wheels of Yata’s skateboard, seeing vegetables makes him think about how stupid Misaki always tried to make him eat them, he’s started looking for pineapple flavored Caloriemate. Fushimi absolutely doesn’t care that Yata’s gone but also he almost threw a knife while passing a group of kids playing baseball. Some poor innocent mother named her daughter Misaki and feels a chill out of nowhere while calling the girl’s name in public near Tsubakimon. Fushimi is absolutely fine and he doesn’t feel any knot of tension easing the day Yata finally comes back (Yata has no idea why Saruhiko is more energetic than usual when they fight, good thing he had such a relaxing vacation).

[levieske]

(𝟐) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞

In which Yuji Itadori accidentally spoils Hana Akiwara’s plans by ingesting Sukuna’s finger, and Satoru Gojo is constantly humbled as a result.

satoru gojo x ofc x suguru geto

[ canon divergence, fix-it au, everybody lives, no kenjaku, no shibuya incident, jjk s1, slow-burn, aged-up characters, age gap, questionable relationships, mentor-student relationships, unresolved sexual tension, more mature and graphic in future chapters, crack heavy for now, tvd references if you squint ]

previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next

Satoru wasted no time in looking for the runaway curse user, undoing his blindfold as he warped out of the warehouse. Much to his dismay, the curse user was gone and, if there was a trace of cursed energy, it was as scarce as it had been back inside. Not enough to track her down. The sorcerer sighed and warped to where his students were located. Grabbing them by the uniforms, Gojo teleported the four of them to Ijichi.

The assistant jumped on his seat inside the vehicle, but didn’t dare to get out as Satoru gave him one of his sweet and deadly smiles. The teacher focused his attention back on his students, who wore different varying degrees of confusion on their faces. They stared back at him with a disoriented and almost nauseous look, all thanks to the encounter with the curse user and his warping. Yuji seemed more anxious than the rest, understandably so.

The vessel felt a characteristic tingle on his cheek, followed by Sukuna’s laugh. “I didn’t think those were still around! She made you look like a fool, Gojo.” His voice roared loud and clear and the other three sorcerers glanced in his direction. “You’d better get that finger back, brat. I can’t stand dull copies.”

The curse retreated to the depths of his vessel after his ominous demand. Itadori’s face was devoid of any color. He avoided looking up, choosing instead to stare back at the abandoned building.

“Yuji,” Gojo’s voice caught his attention, “you recognized the curse user. How do you know her?”

“I… I don’t understand.” The pink-haired boy stumbled to find the right words. “We went to class together, at Sugisawa. I never knew she was a curse user. She didn’t…”

He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. He felt a surge of emotions, from confusion to anger to guilt. He had met Hana Akiwara at the beginning of March, a little over two months ago, when Yuji started his Bachelor’s Degree in Film Studies. After having been paired in a project, Yuji got to know her better. He learnt that Hana was a foreigner from the States, despite her very japanese appearance and accent. She was a quiet girl in his class that had been held back two years, making her 20. It was something he could never comprehend as she seemed very studious and always helped Itadori and their friends when needed. She even joined their occult club to avoid it getting canceled. Akiwara and him had spent countless movie nights at his house and she even gave him free pastries from the coffee shop she worked at. He’d like to believe he knew her well, but this changed everything.

How could she be in any shape or form connected to jujutsu? Was Hana, too, possessed by Sukuna?

“She wasn’t, idiot. How would I manifest into two bodies at the same time?” Sukuna’s comment inside his mind made him sigh.

The last time Itadori had seen Akiwara was the day he ate Sukuna’s finger and she didn’t seem to notice anything off about him. He met her at the hospital after telling her about Iguchi and Sasaki. Yuji remembered lying his ass off to explain what had happened to them when Hana asked him. She didn’t press him for more information or anything weird. It was pure luck she hadn’t seen Gojo and Fushiguro, just as it had been that they had met now.

Itadori felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. It was Gojo.

“Yuji, relax a bit.” His voice was calm but stern. “I need you to tell me as much as you know about her, but first,” Satoru dropped his hand from his shoulder and turned to the rest of his students, “we’re going to that bakery I mentioned earlier. I’ll let Ijichi know and we’ll report this afterwards.”

The teacher’s words did nothing to calm the nervous turmoil Yuji had turned into, but he swallowed hard and nodded nonetheless. In what felt like a blink to him, the four sorcerers arrived at the bakery shop and sat down. While Gojo ordered at the counter, the pink-haired boy sorted out his thoughts. He stared through the window, watching people pass by, as Megumi and Nobara exchanged a worried look.

“She’s the girl you told me about, right?” Fushiguro’s voice drew his attention back to his classmates, who were sitting in front of him.

Itadori felt a warm sensation on his cheeks, not caused by the annoying curse living inside of him this time. He nodded. The embarrassment kept him from being able to make eye contact, focusing instead on the black spikes of Megumi’s hair. Yuji sometimes wondered if that was his natural hair texture or if he, perhaps, styled it every morning. The mental image of his cranky classmate flat ironing his hair made him chuckle.

Before he could elaborate on his answer, their teacher got to their table and placed the items he had purchased. There were many different types of sweets and four cups of tea. Yuji smiled at Gojo before getting to the point at hand.

Gojo could have taken him to the school grounds as soon as they left the warehouse to interrogate him, but he didn’t. Fushiguro would always complain about his overprotective irritating behavior, but Itadori was very grateful to be under his care. He was a frustrating teacher, but a good one, and he wasn’t going to doubt that ever.

Yuji started speaking about how he met Hana and what their friendship looked like. The afternoons they shared working on projects, how those afternoons turned into movie nights, and the times she made him pancakes for breakfast. Well, the one time she made him pancakes. It just happened once, but Yuji cherished that memory. And the taste of those pancakes.

The pink-haired boy took a break from talking about her friend to grab a bite of whatever sweets Gojo had bought them. The teacher had rested his head on his hand once Yuji went down the rabbit hole, smiling softly. Nobara was frowning and Megumi was speechless.

“Anything else? Something besides your friendship?” The white-haired sorcerer asked as Yuji finished eating, getting a hold of the sweets for himself.

“Oh, yeah…” The boy nodded several times. “Hana Akiwara. She's 20 years old and she has a twin brother, Kei… Ken something? She lives with him in Kichijoji, but their family is in the States.” The other three sorcerers looked at him expectantly. “We haven’t been in touch since last week. Last time I saw her was when I told her about what happened to our other friends, she didn’t seem to notice anything.”

Itadori went quiet for a little bit. Now that he thought about it…

“Mmmm… She was the one that gave my friends the idea to unseal the finger.”

“What?!” Both Megumi and Nobara exclaimed in disbelief, attracting the attention of other customers from the bakery.

“I’m sure she was joking! She wasn’t even there when they did it.” Yuji was quick to back her up, gesturing with his hands.

Yuji bit his lip, feeling torn.

Gojo sighed and rubbed his chin, straightening his back. He looked at the vessel with a serious expression. “I think Hana intended to keep the finger that you ate, Yuji.”

“No, that's not true.” The boy shook his head, a sinking feeling setting in his stomach as he tried to deny the accusations. “Why would she?”

“Because she had the one we were supposed to get just now.” Kugisaki deadpanned. Fushiguro also gave him a skeptical look, making Itadori shrink on his seat, defeated.

“She is a good person. She wouldn’t have put our friends in danger just because.” Itadori felt himself getting upset as he tried to reason. Hana was no villain. He took a deep breath, tightening his fists under the table. “Why can’t there be good curse users? Why does she have to be “evil”?”

Gojo exhaled at the pink-haired boy’s questions, trying to find the right words to explain himself.

“Curse users are sorcerers who operate outside of the school’s autAkiwaraty. This doesn’t automatically make them evil but-” Satoru gestured with the fork he was holding. “What I’m trying to say it’s that they can be a little bit troublesome. Not for me, of course.” He flashed Yuji one of his signature smiles and the boy nodded. Megumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We can’t be certain she isn’t a threat with the information we just have, Yuji. What we do know is that she might be able to copy any technique or, at least, mimic her opponent’s attacks.”

Yuji understood she was quite powerful, as dangerous as she was unknown, but he refused to believe there was any malice in her. He didn’t believe for a second that sweet, helpful and quiet Hana was an evil mastermind. It just didn’t make sense.

“So what if she has a strong technique? What has she done to be labeled as a crime?”

Itadori knew he was just talking for the sake of defending her, but it didn’t mean he had to be right about it. 

“She also seemed to be channeling Sukuna’s finger.” He instantly frowned at Kugisaki’s observation. The redhead just raised her eyebrows in response. Itadori didn’t want to dwell on her reaction.

“That and the fact that he knew her technique.” Fushiguro added, which, to be fair, didn’t look good but it didn’t necessarily mean Hana was somehow connected to Sukuna, right? “Do you think he’ll tell us anything else about it?”

Itadori opened and closed his mouth a few times, but before he could muster something, Sukuna spoke for him.

“I’m not telling you shit.” The King of Curses sounded both annoyed and amused at the same time, which was something everyone expected.

Why would he help them?

“Well, that answers your question.” Gojo smiled as he heard Sukuna’s refusal. “I think I’ve read something about that technique, though. It feels oddly familiar.”

He looked at Yuji through his blindfold, his gaze turning firm and serious. “I’d like to have a little chat with her before getting the school involved, okay? We’re going to keep this quiet for now.”

Yuji lowered his head, overwhelmed by the situation. His classmates’ responses sounded muffled, drowned out by the chatter of the busy bakery shop. He felt his world had been turned upside down twice in less than two weeks. He had to drop out of his dream college after getting involved in the jujutsu world on the same day his grandfather died, and now the girl he believed to be a close friend of his is a wanted curse user.

Fantastic.

Yuji had a feeling that he would have ended up in the jujutsu world regardless if he had or hadn’t eaten Sukuna’s finger. Something he felt had to do with meeting Hana.

“Let me help. Please.” Yuji pleaded. There had to be some sort of explanation, he was sure about that. “I need to talk to her.”

“I know this is difficult for you, I really do. But I have the responsibility to protect you and the others.” Gojo’s voice was stern and clear as he spoke. Yuji was too compassionate for his own good. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, so I need you to promise me that you won’t let your feelings get in the way if things go south. Can you do that for me?”

Itadori hesitated, making a grimace. He didn’t believe for a second that sweet, helpful and quiet Hana was an evil mastermind, but he also knew that Gojo had a point. He had to be prepared for the worst, just in case. He wished his teacher would give her the same chance he got, that he’d see the good in her as he did in Yuji. 

“I promise, Gojo.” Itadori nodded slowly.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” The teacher patted his shoulder and gave him a smile. “Don’t worry too much about it for now. Let’s focus on how to find her.” Itadori nodded again as Gojo continued talking. “You mentioned she worked at a café, right?”

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

Some days later, Yuji’s wonderful plan was put into action. It was pretty simple, really. He just texted Hana as if nothing had happened and asked her to meet up. And it somehow worked out…

Hana sighed after hearing the doorbell of the café ring. She left the rag she was using to scrub the counter and undid her apron before turning towards Yuji Itadori. He awkwardly waited by the door, as he took a look around.

Hana’s workplace was a cozy coffee shop located some streets away from her house. The white brick walls reflected the warm lights that hung from the ceiling , contrasting with the dark and minimalistic decor. The smell of coffee and baked goods filled Itadori’s nostrils, reminding him of the last time he had been there. Back when everything was normal. He recognized the set of brown leather booths next to the big windows and the white, L-shaped counter Hana had been cleaning just a few seconds ago.

The curse-user was wearing her work uniform and had her hair tied in a braid as usual. She left the apron on a stool as she walked towards him.

To her, Yuji looked the same as she remembered. Pink fluffy hair, colorful hoodie, jeans and his signature sneakers. Hana was glad he hadn’t come in the school’s uniform, but she had to admit there was something nudging her head. His cursed energy.

She was pretty confident in the fact that it wasn’t there before. Yuji didn’t have any cursed energy last time she checked. But it was pretty much there, oozing around him in waves. Hana wondered how she hadn’t noticed it back in the warehouse.

She left her inquiries for later, as she greeted her friend. “Hey…”

“Hi.”

“Tea, right?” Yuji nodded. “Feel free to sit wherever you like. The pancakes are ready”

Once again, Yuji nodded, even though Hana had turned away to prepare their drinks. Yuji sat in one of the booths, where he was able to see his teacher watching over him from across the street. Gojo stood in the dark, discerning his recognizable white hair. The boy almost jumped on his seat as Hana set two cups and a very much missed plate of pancakes. He stared again at his teacher, who had stopped laughing at him to drool at the sweets.

“Hope you like it.” Akiwara said, breaking his trance.

She took the seat in front of him and fiddled with her tea pod, waiting for his answer. The vessel relaxed as she didn’t seem to notice the man across the street.

“Thanks.” He replied with a smile, mimicking her actions. Yuji glanced at his cup before continuing the conversation. “How’s everything going?”

“I’ve been okay, I guess.” The black-haired girl shrugged. “It’s really boring in class now. Sasaki and Iguchi are still in the hospital.” A pang of guilt washed over Yuji, but before he could say anything, Hana carried on. “They’re getting better, don’t worry!”

The two of them sat in silence, staring at each other, before speaking at the same time.

“I’m…”

“So…”

Hana let out an awkward laugh. “What- what about you?”

“Good, good. It has been… different? I guess.” The boy replied as he played with his fork and took a bite of the pancakes.

She hummed at his reply.  “I mean, yeah, you changed schools so suddenly” She glanced at the pancakes before meeting his eyes again. “You never really told me why you left. I thought you liked it here.”

“That’s not-” Itadori chewed on the pancakes before he started talking again, watching Hana make a funny face at his puffy cheeks. He felt his face growing warmer. “I really liked the classes and spending time with you guys, but things have changed.”

The curse user bit her lip, finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her friend's cursed energy, to ignore how familiar it felt. Not to mention the white-haired weirdo lurking somewhere outside, watching them. She could sense his presence even from a distance, thanks to having used her own cursed energy against him a few days ago.

Hana didn’t need to see him to know he was there.

“Is that why you brought that sorcerer with you?” She blurted out without thinking. “You can’t even come here on your own, can you?”

“What?” Yuji asked, dumbfounded. He quickly snapped out of his stupor as he watched Hana start collecting her belongings. “Hana, please. Wait-”

The black-haired girl abruptly stood up from her seat. “No hard feelings, Yuji, but I’d rather not trash my workplace dealing with him.”

Just as she turned around, her body collided with an invisible force. She looked up, making eye contact with the very man she wanted to avoid. Hana huffed as he gave her a smile in return.

“Sit back down.” He had the nerve to order her.

The stupid sorcerer didn’t budge as she glared at him, arching her thin eyebrows. Akiwara sat begrudgingly and Gojo took a seat next to Itadori. She grumbled under her breath, staring at the white-haired man sitting in front of her. His surprisingly long legs stretched under the table, his knees uncomfortably brushing against hers. No matter how she adjusted her position, Gojo’s limbs took up all the space.

The three of them sat in silence for a minute. Yuji didn’t dare to speak, instead choosing to look at his hands under the table as Satoru stared at Hana through his blindfold. She stared right back at him.

“What do you want?” Hana asked.

“Isn’t it obvious, curse user?” The man smiled menacingly. “The finger. Where do you have it?”

“It isn’t here.” The girl scowled before repeating herself. “What do you want?”

“You shouldn’t be the one asking questions, you know?” Gojo's smile grew even wider, deepening the girl's frown. Yuji just watched their exchange of words, feeling a little bit disregarded.

He was still there, you know?

“Why do you think I care?” Hana’s voice brought him back to the conversation they were having. She shrugged as Itadori stared at her. “You should be grateful I haven’t actually done anything after what you have done to Yuji.”

Itadori couldn't help but be taken aback by the widening smile on his mentor's face. “And what, exactly, is that?”

“He’s Sukuna’s vessel now. What do you mean ‘what’?”

She couldn’t deny it any longer. That specific dark cursed energy was all too similar to the one oozing from the finger she so carefully borrowed . 

“I actually did that myself.” Yuji finally interjected.

Hana immediately turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised in question. “What do you mean?”

“I… I ate the finger.” Yuji explained.

She blinked, taken aback by his confession. “Really?” 

“He did.” Satoru chimed in, his fingers drumming on the table as Yuji nodded.

Hana sighed and deflated on her seat. “I’m not even going to question it.” Resting her head on her hand, she looked at the white-haired sorcerer. What was she even supposed to say to that? Congratulations on successfully resurrecting a powerful and ancient cursed spirit? “So, what now? Are you going to torture me until I reveal the location of the finger?”

Gojo had the audacity to laugh. “Why are you so distrustful?”

Hana shot him a glare, her frustration evident. "Why should I trust a group of arrogant individuals who would rather eliminate anyone practicing jujutsu outside of their control, instead of actually helping people?" Both Satoru and Yuji stared at her in silence, leaving Hana to clear her throat as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her words had come out more intense than she had intended. “I don’t like the school’s stupid power dynamics and I’d love to have nothing to do with them.”

“So do I.” Gojo admitted, reclining in his seat. “But, see, Hana, as much as I’d like to leave you to your own devices, you’re still in possession of a special-grade cursed object.” He tilted his head and gestured with his hands. “Plus, that cursed technique of yours…”

The girl crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. “What are you trying to get at?”

“My point is, you could be seen as a threat by the higher-ups.” Gojo simply put it. “I know, I know, it’s a total bummer. But coming here with that technique of yours, what did you expect?” He taunted her. “Isn’t your clan on the brink of extinction? Why not just stay in the US?”

Hana chuckled dryly. “I think it was time we returned. Jujutsu is in our nature just as it is in yours.”

“You have a choice to change the course of things.” Satoru was so sure of himself it completely pissed her off. “Join Jujutsu Tech. Prove yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Hana was sure she was pissing him off as well, judging by the subtle change in his stupid smile. It only fueled her to annoy him further.

“I have a life, you know?” She gestured to the café. “I work here, I’m in uni and I’m not leaving my brother behind.” She crossed her arms again, frowning. “Besides, who the hell are you? You just come here and expect me to join your cult without introducing yourself?”

“It’s not a cult.” The white-haired sorcerer sighed as he corrected her. “And my name’s Satoru Gojo.”

The man stared at her through the blindfold, expectantly. She could tell his name held any significance in the jujutsu world.

“Is that supposed to ring any bells?”

Not in hers, though. She remembered the stories her grandmother used to tell her about the Big Three Families, but the names were lost to her. She only needed to know there were three and they were bad .

Hana guessed Snowman here belonged to one of them, which only made things better. Now that she thought about it, she suspected it was the Gojo clan the one with the Six Eyes or the infinity stuff. She might have forgotten the names but she surely remembered their abilities; she had done her homework before coming to Japan after all.

This revelation gave Hana more reasons to kill Kenji when she got home.

“Do you even know anything?” His voice was laced with irritation.

“As I said, I’m not interested in your cult.” Akiwara shrugged. “Why should I bother learning about it?”

“Even if you don’t attend  Jujutsu Tech, the school won't leave you and your brother alone.” Gojo mocked her, mirroring her tone.

“Ooh, how terrifying…” The curse user feigned a scared look. “The answer is still no. Why haven’t you just reported us to your superiors and be done with it?”

“Because this one right here” Gojo pointed at Itadori, “wanted to give you a chance. So I’m giving you one.”

“Hana, please. It’s not as bad as it seems. I mean, they have suspended my execution.”

Gojo wanted to face-palm at his pupil’s failed attempt of convincing his friend.

The friend in question sighed. “I’ll think about it, Yuji.”

She had thought about it and the answer was no, but she’d say anything in order to get this man off her back.

Gojo pointed at the plate of pancakes, which had remained almost untouched for the duration of their conversation. “So… You’re not eating this, right?”

Akiwara just sunk deeper into her seat. She didn’t have any patience left for this man-child. Itadori kindly hurried Gojo out of the café after the curse user threw a plastic container with the left-over pancakes his way. The teacher had the nerve of asking then how she cloaked herself back in the warehouse, and she replied to his question bitterly when she realized he would just wait for her outside of her workplace if she didn’t comply. Hana remembered bitterly the ring her brother left behind, the talisman.

He could have just made another one, for fuck’s sake.

Hana breathed deeply as she finished closing the café. What was done is done. She just hoped the school would send another sorcerer other than Satoru Gojo.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

Much to her dismay, Hana wasn’t able to avoid Satoru for long. It had been just a week after he invaded her workplace, when she found herself face-to-face with him again. She was in no way, shape or form in the mood for his nonsense. The morning classes had already taken a toll on her, and the last thing she needed was an irritating sorcerer to make her day worse.

But there he was, leaning against the wall next to the exit of her university building. His relaxed posture was a stark contrast to the tension that immediately coiled in Hana's stomach. She could feel the weight of his gaze even before their eyes met. Well, it’s not as their eyes would have met anyways: Gojo had a black blindfold covering his eyes, making his hair stick up like some kind of toilet brush. She never really understood the necessity, wouldn’t glasses do the job?

Weirdo.

“I don’t have the time for this.” The black haired girl stated, looking sideways. She didn’t particularly want anyone to witness her interaction with the white-haired freak.

Hana readjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder and kept walking.

“Oi!” Satoru’s voice didn’t stop her, in fact, it only fueled to walk faster. “Didn't expect to see you here.”

His long limbs helped him catch up to her effortlessly, a wide smile on his face. Hana stopped abruptly and turned around. Thankfully, Gojo’s sharp senses allowed him to halt just in time to avoid crashing into her.

“What do you want, Satoru?” She spelled his name with disdain, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

She knew it was kind of rude of her to address him by his name, or at least she hoped he found it rude. She was taught to use Mr and Mrs back at home, specially with older generations and remarkable members of society, but she thought none of that applied to Satoru Gojo. Plus, she didn’t want to hide her animosity.

Unfortunately for her, the sorcerer smiled.

“Just a chat.” He simply replied, though his tone suggested it was anything but simple.

Hana sighed, weighing her options. She could either attempt to run away, which had just proven unsuccessful, or she could listen to him and give him a vague response in the hopes he’d be satisfied with that and leave. Just like she had done the previous week.

“Make it quick.” She conceded after mentally cursing her position.

Hana walked away from the inquisitive gazes of her classmates and sought out a quiet spot in the campus greenery. As they approached the shadow of some trees, Hana couldn't help but feel a sense of unease with every movement Gojo made behind her. His mere presence radiated an undeniable power, which both piqued her interest and unnerved her. She wasn’t scared, but Satoru Gojo was, by far, one of the strongest sorcerers she had the displeasure of meeting. His name held weight in sorcerer circles, she guessed last time they saw each other. He seemed like a one man army kind of deal, but then, again, she hadn’t met that many sorcerers. It made Hana wonder if that was the standard, because she had seen power similar to that.

When they finally stopped walking, the white-haired sorcerer turned his back to her. His grin widened as she leaned against a tree, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above them.

“I'll cut to the chase.” He began, his tone teasing her. Hana rolled her eyes behind him. “You're talented, Hana. Your cursed technique is truly unique, and you are well aware of that.” He paused, but she remained silent. “What I’m offering is proper training and a safety net. No more hiding.”

“And you,” she emphasized, “are supposed to be this almighty teacher who will guide me on the right path?” Hana scoffed, tucking a stray strand of her black hair behind her ear. Satoru stayed quiet, choosing to gaze at the swaying trees instead. “Nice speech. Now, how can you actually guarantee your cult won't try to kill me?”

“Easy!” The man’s exclamation took the curse user aback, making her jolt on the spot. Gojo lifted his bandage, turning sideways to stare at her with one eye. “Since I’ll probably be your executioner, I’ll just have to make sure you are a good girl .”

What way of phrasing it was that ?

Akiwara cringed inwardly. She questioned herself how this poor excuse of a sorcerer had even been able to put her on edge. Gojo finally let go of his blindfold and fully turned around.

 “I've told you before, I'm not interested in joining your little sorcerer's club.”

Satoru smiled, basking in the idea that Hana might be warming up to him. However, Hana found herself losing respect for the man with every word he spoke. He was far from what she had expected most jujutsu sorcerers to be like.

Whatever this man was, it certainly wasn’t what she was told.

“Not a club,” Gojo corrected her, “and I still believe having some extra help wouldn’t hurt you. Plus, you’d be breaking a centuries-old rivalry, heh?”

The curse user frowned. “I can take care of myself and my brother just fine.”

“Mmm… He’s not-?” Before he could end what he was saying, his phone buzzed. Retrieving the device from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Seems like my visit is cut early. Duty calls.”

“Just like that?” Hana asked, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Yep, just like that.” He replied, already moving away. “Think about what I said, Hana.”

And with that, he was finally gone. Hana’s intuition was screaming that something was amiss, but the annoying sorcerer wasn’t there anymore to question him. His absence was both a relief and not, as her questions remained unanswered.  The day dragged on, each lecture feeling longer than the last, her mind replaying her encounter with Satoru. His words echoed inside her head on and on. By the time her final class ended, she was more than ready to leave the suffocating walls of the university behind and get home.

Pushing open the door, she was greeted by the familiar sight of Kenji, sprawled on the couch with a half-eaten sandwich in hand, gray eyes glued to the flickering TV screen. Her twin brother had the luck of getting home earlier than her on Tuesdays, being able to spend those few hours alone like that. Hana envied him at the moment.

“What’s up, sourface?” He teased, oblivious to her deepening frown.

Hana sighed, dropping her bag on the couch before throwing herself onto it. “I’m really not in the mood, Kenji.”

“Why?” He asked, concern piercing through his casual demeanor. Hana could barely understand her brother as he spoke with his mouth full. “Rough day in class?”

“Worse.” The girl massaged her temples, watching her brother put his plate of the coffee table. “He came back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her twin’s posture stiffened. “Or you know… call me, huh?”

“It… It wasn’t that important.” Hana shrugged. The sorcerer had made it clear he wasn’t planning on killing her, for now at least. “He left almost as quickly as he came.”

“I don’t trust him, Hana. Any of them.” Kenji grumbled, almost scolding her. “And you know exactly why.”

To say they didn’t have a great relationship with other sorcerers would be an understatement. The Akiwara siblings placed their trust solely in their own clan, having learned that lesson the hard way.

“I know.” Hana nodded, her throat tight. She paused, as she waited for her uneasiness to wear off. “But something’s off.”

“Of course something’s off,” her brother chuckled, “that sorcerer is stalking you.”

“I’m not talking about that, idiot.” Hana threw a cushion to his brother, who skillfully dodged it. “I mean, he left so quickly. I feel something has happened.”

“Whatever it is, it’s not our problem.” Kenji’s gaze softened. He threw her back the cushion, which landed on her face. “You’ve been on edge lately. Maybe you just need some rest?”

Hana reluctantly nodded, noticing her eyelids drooping autonomously. She couldn’t say she wasn’t sleep deprived. While napping wouldn’t actually answer her much, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next

comments and suggestions are highly appreciated!

ty for reading <3

[connecting-the-stars]

As a freshly new Bad Batch enjoyer, I’ve just finished running through season 1 holding onto Omega like she is my little sister and staring at crosshair menacingly.

S1 final was so epic! Like the sea monster and the escape from the collapsing city! The atmosphere was just so awesome and really makes me want to write. The tension of constant danger but having character moments and conflicts shine and clash. Omega without a hesitation jumping to save crosshair from drowning and the others working to rescue them. Crosshair always setting himself to the outskirts of the group as they plan and work together, his hesitation before following the group. He is not a happy camper.

Moments that I loved (Last two episodes):

Tech noticing the reflective point on the wall. That frame of the mark encapsulating Tech and Wrecker. He recognized it from past missions and the tactics they’ve learned. Wonder what was going through his head when he first saw that? Like precaution that crosshair could aim for them at any point? Or theorizing that crosshair would use it to shot the soldiers if they turned to target them?

Crosshair killing all four soldiers of his party was crazy cool! Like damn! And turning back to them without a beat and taking his helmet off! Like he’s peeling back that resentment if only for a chance to have his brothers join him again. Don’t get me wrong he’s still pissed, but it’s vulnerable in of itself to even ask, to have that chance to get hurt by the people who you believed had abandoned you.

Omega and her attack droids plan would’ve worked great for a diversion and escape attempt if, you know, Crosshair had ultimately sided with his troopers to murder his brothers. But she’s a ball of determination and improvised plans that work Sometimes!

The brothers fighting TOGETHER! AHHH! My Face peeled into a bigass smile. Their theme coming back in full strength! Crosshair helping hunter! Tech and wrecker’s confusion before jumping into the fight again.

Omega-Hunter Hug! That’s her Dad/brother! “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogy woogie woogie!!”

Hunter and crosshair stand off! Stop fighting like for once! Just stopppp! (I know I have a longer ride for this, and its Great :’D )

Little droid guy was very fun! AZI is a real one!

Everyone having to get paired up in the lab tubes lol. Bruh they really are going back to the very beginning- very cool. Echo and Tech looks so small compared to wrecker who hardly fits in the tube by himself. Crosshair and Hunter - definitely thought they’d start a fist fight in that tube thing, like one of them shoves the other and it escalates how sibling fights go from 1 to 1,000 in two seconds. And one of them would crack their elbow into the glass tube and cause a piece to crack ominously and they just freeze. And Omega, Tiny is in fact Tiny. That tube is almost as big as her “room” lol

Omega gonna give me and hunter a panic attack with her reckless selflessness. Like dude the droid is very dope and very helpful, but you are in a graveyard of a city and the damn sea monster is very much alive and well!

Crosshair aiming his gun at hunter when hes about to jump after her, very tense moment. And He Saves “the kid!” YYAAY. Hunter shielding her away from crosshair anyway- a bit dramatic lol. Wrecker not putting his guard down till Cross gives up his weapon… damn- Family Bonding, am I right : D

(Side note: Tech is one of my favorites… sure hope nothing bad happens to him. = D )

Anyway, Im just really enthralled by this show and I love space stories. Especially ones that tick practically every trope I adore. Found family (in a way.) SPACE! Badass good guys. Morally gray characters that find their way back to a healthier and happier life… eventually.

Season 2 time!! WOO!