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leahblackk · 3 years

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Lies pt.3

(The gif is not mine. Whoever made this thank you so much and I’m sorry)

Summary: After Y/n is kidnapped Spencer needs to find her before it is too late, but this makes Spencer being put into a very familiar position.

Type: Angst.

Alright people, finally we have the last part of lies and I have to thank all of you for the support and for being so patient with me. I am so sorry for taking so long, and I am sorry for what you will read. I might or might not have cried while I was writing it and editing it. And this fucking thing is so longgg so i am sorry. It took 16 pages like what???

With so much love and pain, Leah.

If you haven't read the first and second part here are the links.

And if you can read this while listening to Moonlight by future Islands it will be perfect because I was definitely listening to it while I wrote this.

People who asked me to tag them: @rexorangecouny, @b-a-utiful, @measure-in-pain, @jemimah-b99, @brod16

Y/n and Spencer have never been apart from each other. There was something that made the two young doctors crave each other. There was a connection with so much chemistry, with so much love and appreciation. The love they felt for each other wasn't like the others, and they never felt that way with anyone. After all, they belong together because they fit together. Because they were meant to be.

One of their first dates was to watch stars while they made a picnic. Spencer remembers the way her hair was being softly moved by the cold wind of that night. The moon wasn't complete because that way, they could see the stars better. The constellations were connected in the way they were, how the sky was being decorated by the little space things we call stars.

Spencer remembers very vividly how she always talks about astronomy and how the sky and space made her feel.

And that night, the stars were out. Spencer wishes she could be there with him to tell him facts about astronomy even though Spencer already knew all those facts. Still, in the way she narrates it, how she talks so happily, how she moves her hands, and how her eyes are sparkly and lighter than the stars itself make everything better. It was better to hear and learn those facts from her than in a boring book he could finish in less than an hour.

But she wasn't with him. He didn't even know where she was, but when he was out there watching the stars while hot, painful tears were streaming down his face. The universe was the only one who could know how he felt because the universe himself was the one that made them be together. Or well, that's what Spencer liked to think.

But certainly, the night sky wasn't that beautiful now she wasn't there. The night was colder, and he felt alone, empty. The stars seem dull in his eyes. The universe and astronomy weren't that beautiful anymore because the only stars Spencer wanted to watch were her eyes.

And then and there, Spencer made a promise. If he didn't find Y/n, he would never look at the night sky ever again. He won't even going to talk about astronomy in his life because that was her thing, and Spencer didn't want to take that away from her, but if he did find her, he would look at the stars every night before he goes to sleep. He would talk about astronomy, but only to her. He would thank the universe for the rest of his life. He would read all the facts so he can tell her because she always wanted to learn. She always asked Spencer about astronomy.

Spencer wanted his universe again.

He was so stuck in his mind. His eidetic memory wasn't a blessing at that moment. So he didn't hear his friend Derek Morgan approaching him.

He stood beside him. The doctor wasn't looking at his friend. He was looking up.

"Did you know space is complete silence? Some people might think it has a specific type of sound. But is silent." He murmurs while Morgan looks at him in confusion.

"No, I didn't know." He was going to encourage his friends, but the young doctor interrupted him.

"Did you know that on mars, the sunset is blue? I think it's something interesting."

"Kid…"

"Did you know that the name milky way galaxy has something to do with Greek mythology and Hercules? It says that Hera was nursing Hercules while she was asleep, and then when she woke up and pulled away, her breast milk spilled across the heavens. But in Greek mythology, Hera didn't like Hercules because it wasn't her son. Y/n told me that."

"Spencer, I think that's pretty interesting, but-"

"Did you know that-"

"Spencer!"

"What?" Spencer finally looked at his friend with tears in his eyes.

"We are going to find her. I promise."

"Are we? I mean, it's been an hour, twenty minutes, and three seconds since she was kidnapped, and we don't even have a clue where she is. Do you think we are gonna find her, or you just say it because you know this is all my fault, and if I didn’t kiss Cat, she wouldn't be kidnapped?"

Morgan sighed and hugged Spencer. The young doctor was known because he didn't like physical contact, but at that moment, he needed it. "This is not your fault. None of this is your fault, and we both knew you had to kiss her. You err was not telling her why you did it, but you will."

"I tried Morgan," Spencer cried. "I tried, but she wouldn't listen to me. Why didn't she listen to me? I love her. I love her more than anything. I can't lose her. I can't."

"You won't, kid. You won't."

And there, Spencer cried in Morgan's shoulder.

Twenty minutes after, Spencer tried to help the team in everything he could, but sometimes he would space out, thinking in those moments where Y/n would bring him back to reality by holding his knee. He looked down and put his own hand in his knee, trying to remember what it felt when it was her the one doing it.

"Go ahead, Garcia," Morgan said. There weren't pet names anymore. No one was in good humor to flirt. Even Penelope, her best friend, was missing, and his lack of pet names, cocky and sarcastic answers was showing. She didn't smile, but everyone knew something was wrong besides their current situation.

"A-A video has been sent to- to Spencer. It is Y/n" Penelope tried to talk. Her eyes were red, meaning she was crying.

Everyone looks at Spencer. "Show us." He said.

"Right away."

Everyone looked at the screen in front of them, waiting anxiously for the video. Spencer knew it wasn't a good one. The video started with a woman in front of the camera not giving a chance to see what was being her but apparently it was a chair.

The woman was trying to get a good angle, and when she made it, she started to walk away from the camera, not losing her view—everyone gasped except Spencer and Hotch, who already had their suspicions. The woman was Cat Adams.

"Hiya Spencie, sadly, I don't get to see you, but at least you can see me," she greeted. "I found someone outside of your office, and it was easy to catch her, and you thought she was smart."

Cat stepped aside, leaving Y/n in everyone's view. She had some minor bruises in her temple, and her lip was bleeding, meaning she had to fight for her life. She was awake, but she was looking at anything more than the floor. Her wrists were tied in the back of the chair, so were her ankles.

Spencer looked carefully at her, looking for lethal injuries, and when he didn't find them, he felt relieved. He looked at her face, and his heart hurt at the view, but even at that moment, he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world to him, she always has been, and she will always be.

"Look at the front Y/n," Cat said. She didn't do what she wanted, so Cat walked where she was and grabbed her chin, moving it to the camera. Spencer watched her eyes, empty, without light he always liked and red, she had been crying. Those pretty eyes weren't looking at him. Those eyes he loved so much were lost, and Spencer thought it was his fault. He believed it was his fault. "Say hi to Spencer," Cat demanded. Y/n didn't listen to her. "I said to say hi to Spencer," she slapped her cheek, making Spencer's tears finally drop, and a few of the team as well. But even though Y/n didn't say anything. "So, someone has decided to be a little brat. You like brats, Spencer?" Cat asked.

Cat disappeared from the view just leaving Y/n there. She exhaled and looked at the camera. She moved her head to the left, trying to escape from the camera view. Adams came back with something the team wouldn't recognize. She smiled and lit it, the tip of the strange object lit up like a small candle, and put it in Y/n's arm, inside of her arm. She gasped and sobbed. She was trying to be strong, strong for them. "You decided to be a brat and don't do what I say, so this is your punishment."

When she didn't receive any painful reaction from the young agent, she put the object away, watching the slight burning she left in Y/n's arm. "Now, I think we can negotiate with your little friends, don't you think?" She looked at her, but she didn't respond. "Alright, crime fighters, this is what I want. The little bitch here aka Spencer's girlfriend, or should I say ex? Did you break up with Spencer Y/n? After you saw how he kissed me, did he kiss you in the same way? I bet he didn't." Y/n remained silent. "When I talk to you, you will answer me," Cat slapped Y/n’s cheek. She looked at Cat with anger this time.

"How far did you go with your obsession for him? If I wanted to be with you, we would have, but he didn't, did he? So you had to plan and do all of this so you can have all the attention and recognition you didn't have as a child, isn't it? How pathetic you are." Y/n finally talk.

"You don't talk to me like that." Cat slapped Y/n cheek with so much strength that it made Y/n spit blood. And then she looked at Cat again and chuckled.

"You wanted me to talk."

Cat ignored her words, being annoyed by them. She looked at the camera and smiled. "How I was saying, what I want is to Spencer to come. You can bring your team I don’t care, besides I want to all of them watch the show, but you had to enter the building alone, and you can’t do dirty tricks or anything like trying to get the FBI inside because I had cameras everywhere and if I see someone else trying to be inside I will kill her. All of you can watch everything from outside, that's actually the plan, and then maybe I can give you back your little girlfriend. You have to enter with any guns, with anything. Just you, and maybe without clothes, only if you want," Cat smirked and then began to walk close to the camera. "You know the rules, but the question if you dare to play the game Spencie. I see you soon." She winked and took the camera, and the video stopped.

Everyone stayed silent.

"Oh! She sent an address." Penelope knowledge.

"How did she escape?" JJ asked.

"That's what I like to know. Care to explain, Strauss?" Hotch talked, wapping the few tears in his eyes when he saw Erin Strauss walk to the BAU.

"Don't talk to me like that, Aaron. This is not my fault."

"Then who is? One of our agents is being there torture, and you didn't even have the decency to say that maniac escape from prison?"

"I didn't want to alarm the team. She killed a few cops on her way out, but apparently, she had everything planned for weeks."

"Obviously, she had," Rossi said. "Remember when you bring Aaron down because you said he wasn't doing a good job? What is this, then? Are you doing a good job, Erin?"

"This is not my fault, and you know it. I have the power to fire you both for being so unrespectful," Erin attacked.

"Oh yeah? Please do it. I really don't care, Erin. Fire me if you want, but I promise you that I will end you if something happens to her. I actually would like to know what your superiors would think about Erin Strauss. The section chief let a criminal escape and then don't say anything about it.”

"Guys, thank you, Hotch and Rossi, but I don't think how this can help to rescue her, and my girlfriend is out there being tortured by a psychopath, and I really don't think that fighting will help."

"Reid, it's right, we can discuss this later. Right now, we need to think about how we can act," Erin proposed.

"There's any other way than me going," Spencer said with confidence.

"No! Of course, no, that's the worst plan, Spence. I don't think it would work. She's crazy, remember? She would kill you and-" JJ started.

"JJ, she's my girlfriend, and she's suffering, and it's probably my fault."

"It's not," Hotch said. "We will act, and we will find her, I promise you. Besides, she's really strong."

Spencer nodded. She is strong.

She is strong.

He repeated like a mantra to try to calm his nerves.

She is strong.

. . .

Y/n could see everything so dark and tried to see where she was. She wasn't where Cat left her first when she recorded that video and probably sent it to her friends. She was worried, and not because of her life but for Spencer’s.

She knew he would appear at any moment with the team's approval or not. He was like that. He would give anything for her, even his life, just to save her, and at any other time, that would be comforting, but at that moment, that wasn't good. Her anxiety was all over her body, she could feel the blood in her mouth after the slap Cat gave her, and she could feel the injuries where Cat burned her, she could feel the tight hold in her hands and ankles, she was worried about the team, she was concerned about Spencer, she was concerned about Diana. And last, she was concerned about her life.

Was her life going to end?

Why wasn't that worried about her life? She was sick and concerned about everyone around her but her. Why wasn't she worried? Did she didn't care if her life ends at that moment?

She was confused, concerned, and full of anxiety. She was hurt. She wanted to get out there and never come back.

Cat interrupted her thoughts when she came in. With a black chair and put it in front of her. Cat looked at her and smiled. "Don't worry. I won't kill you even if I want to. I made a promise with Spencie, and besides, if I kill you right now, the show wouldn't be that fun, don't you think? " She walked and sat in front of Y/n. "You know, I always felt that you and Spencer needed couples therapy, you didn't trust in him, and he didn't communicate with you, and you didn't tell him the truth, but maybe when he comes, we can discuss that," and then she left leaving the young doctor confused.

. . .

Spencer enters the building. Of course, he did. He wasn't going to leave her girlfriend in the hands of that woman even if she didn't want to see him after what he did. And he knows that if she didn't look at him while he was in there, he wouldn't be mad about it. He deserves it, after all.

He was worried. A man he didn't know was escorting him where he was supposed to be. And he was nervous, of course, he was. Her mom was with Penelope, he didn't tell her what happened because he loved Y/n so much that she would feel bad, and Spencer didn't want that.

The man stopped in front of a black door and then left him there, alone. Spencer felt confused, looking everywhere to see what was happening, but then the door got open, letting him see Cat, and he looked inside of the room trying to find Y/n, but Cat blocked his view. "Don't be rude, Spencer, here you follow my rules, and my first rule is to cover your eyes," Cat smiled while she showed him a black tie. Spencer took it, and he put it in his eyes.

Cat took his arm and guided him where she wanted him to be, in a chair in front of Y/n, who also was covered, she tied his ankles to the chair. The room was empty, only with the three people there and two chairs and a table in Spencer’s left. It was dark and cold. The two doctors were anxious. She knew he was there, she could sense his perfume, and Spencer knew she was there because he could feel her in the same way he always perceives her when she came into a room.

Spencer wanted to see her and Y/n deep down. Her soul wanted to see him as well.

Cat took the tie off Spencer's eyes first, and at that moment, his eyes, for instinct, looked for hers. Those beautiful eyes he was craving for, those who were his strength and debility.

He finds them blind on a black tie like his. But there was her, with her hands free in her lap, but her ankles tied in the chair. Her lip was bleeding, and he could see some minor injuries in her temple, the burning in her arm. There she was.

Cat walked to her and took the tie out of her eyes, they were closed, and then she opened them looking for something that Spencer didn't know what it was, she wasn't looking at him yet, but he was craving for it.

Her eyes were red from the crying and how tired she was. Spencer promised that when they get back home, she will sleep for three days straight to recover. She was so beautiful. She was everything Spencer ever wanted and more, and she was his love. The small light of the room, making her look like an angel. His angel.

Y/n finally looked at him, she was scared of what might happen with him, but she was glad to see him even if she was scared of it, even if she didn't know if she really wanted to, but there he was. Looking straight at her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, at that moment, or maybe she has always been, and she never knew.

But his brown hazel eyes were so comforting. That was what she needed to feel strong, to feel free? His lips were highly red, so his eyes, he has been crying, and she could tell. She wonders if she might have something to do it.

She feels baffled, but she sees him, and that was what she needed, even if she says otherwise.

"All right, I guess it is time to begin," Cat starts talking. The surprise was that at that moment, they forgot they weren't alone. "First, don't you think this feels familiar. Don't you get some kind of dejá vú Spencie? This doesn't bring you memories for a certain brown hair girl?" Cat starts passing around the small room.

"I don't know what does that have something to do with all of this," Spencer says, not taking his gaze out of Y/n, but she does. She looks at the floor and his heartaches. She isn't looking at him.

"Oh, Spence, it has all to do with. Did you know that your little girlfriend here felt threatened by her?"

Spencer looks at her, trying to understand or see some kind of emotion in her, trying to find the truth, but she doesn't let him.

"Is that true?" Spencer asks with fear of what the answer might be.

Y/n doesn't respond.

"He's talking to you, sweetheart," Cat says.

"Is not that I felt threatened by her," She says, and Spencer's breathing contains because he is hearing her voice, her sweet voice, "is because I never thought- I felt like I wasn't what she was for him, for you," she looks at him this time, "she was practically your first love, and I came later. Sometimes you have this person in your life, and it is the first time you feel this way. You don't want it to end. And sometimes you feel like you're not good enough even when they say you are, mostly if they loved someone with their entire heart like you did with-with Maeve."

Spencer's face softens by her words. She felt like this, and he never knew.

"But-"Spencer says but is interrupted by Cat.

"Oh no, you are not going to say anything, and all the bullshit we all have heard. I want you to tell her the reason why you kissed me, "she smiles.

"It was because she told me that if I didn't kiss her, she would make your life miserable, and I couldn't stand that. I am so sorry."

"Yeah, but look, I did otherwise. I just have to say that I really loved that kiss. Don't you want to give me another one?" she got closer to him.

"Cat, I don't think-"He says.

"What I told you about rules?" She says and walks to a table and brings a knife with her. "You will listen and do what I say, or bad things will happen," Cat walks to Y/n and puts the knife in her arm.

"Wait! Please don't hurt her. I will do what you want."

She looks at him and smiles, "Good boy."

Cat gets closer to Spencer and sits in his lap. She looks at Y/n first and winks at her, then takes Spencer’s face in her hands and kisses him, but this time Spencer doesn't close his eyes, doesn't even touch her. He is looking at Y/n, trying to apologize with his eyes. She looks the other way while a tear escapes from her eyes.

"Mhm, I bet you enjoy those kisses Y/n. But you need to learn how to share with the class." She gets up and claps her hands together, "Now this night is getting boring. Ugh, I guess it is time to decide whom I will kill," She takes a gun out of her back and points it to Spencer and then to Y/n.

"You said you wouldn't hurt her, "He says.

"I said I wouldn't kill her if you come in, and I didn't. But now you are here. I can do whatever the hell I want, and I want you alive, so the only option is her," She points to her.

"Kill me instead. She doesn't have the fault I didn't end it up with you. It's me who you should be angry with, not her! The only bad thing she ever did was love me."

"I know, Spencer, But I see it in this way. Do you remember all those pretty and lovely letters I wrote you, Y/n? When I said, he didn't love you because he loved Maeve first, and well we all saw how that ended it, but then he found me, and because he couldn't have me, he chose you. You never loved her truly, Spencer, if you think about it. She is just a replacement. And besides, I am mad at you, of course. But I will prefer to see you suffering every day of your life for not choosing me. That is the worst punishment."

“But you should kill me instead, she doesn’t have anything to do with this,”

“I can’t believe you actually prefer to die. But you are right, you have all the fault, because of what you did to me and all the things I did for you and you never accept me. I guess the only way we can fix that is taking something you care about,” she points to Y/n.

Then suddenly they heard a loud noise they couldn't figure out what it was, but Cat was concerned. "What was that? I swear to god it is one of your agents. I will kill you both, "Cat shouts.

"No, it is me. Come look at this Cat, it is urgent," The man said. The man who was with her in all of that, the one who help to bring Y/n. Her brother.

"I will come back soon. You can't escape here, and I will be on the other side of the door. Besides that, we have cameras, so you two will wait until I come back."

Cat leaves, and silence remains in the room.

"Angel, look at me," Spencer says, but she doesn't look at him, "Y/n please," He begs and then she looks at him. "It doesn't matter what she says, or what she is trying to make you believe or what she said to you before, but I do love you so so much. With my entire heart and soul, you are everything and much more to me. I love you so much. And I am so sorry for what you have been through because of me, and I am sorry I didn't realize the way you felt about Maeve. I did love her I am not gonna lie, but what I felt for her wasn't real love, and what I feel for you is much deeper, and you are everything I ever wanted and If someone ever tells me that I can change what happened to her I wouldn't because of what happened I get to know you and love you, and I don't regret anything. You are my universe, and please believe when I say you are everything to me. " Spencer was desperate to let her know what he truly felt.

And then the door got wide open, and it wasn't Cat on the other side or her brother. It was Hotch. Y/n started crying softly when she saw him. There he was. He approached her while Morgan and Prentiss entered the room to help Spencer.

Hotch hugged her, and she cried on his shoulder. "You are okay. Everything is okay now. You will be home soon," he says while he unties her ankles without breaking the hug.

"Thank you, Hotch."

"You don't have to thank me, that's what family is for," Hotch says while he let her free. With tears in his eyes, Prentiss was full of worries that faded away when she saw her and hugged her.

"Oh my god, Y/n, please never do this to us ever again. I was so worried."

"I’m sorry," she chuckles, and Prentiss does the same.

Then Morgan hugged her, crying as well. "We are so glad you are okay. You don't have any idea how worried we were and Penelope, oh my god," He says.

Y/n chuckle and smile. "What happened to Cat and the other man?" She asks.

"We entered the back door, there weren't any cameras, and then we got him before he said anything, we made him call Cat, and we got her as well. They are with the police right now, and you won't see them ever again." She nods.

Spencer looks at her, and Y/n looks at him, but he knew she needed to be checked out for her injuries, so he doesn't say anything yet.

They walked her outside, and JJ and Rossi hugged her, leaving her without air, but happy to see her family again.

. . .

After they checked her and see her injuries, they drive back to Quantico. Spencer was dying inside. He didn't know the next chapter in their life, he didn't want to lose her, but he did understand if she didn't want to be with him.

Everyone greet her, happy to see her again. She couldn’t see Diana because she will be worried about her injuries, Y/n cried with Penelope, but she was happy. Those were happy tears. She was finally in home.

And then she walked outside being called by the sky, looking at the stars. The same ones he was looking at hours before. It was three Am, and he was tired. He walked where she was, looking at the stars and then at her.

"I think we need to talk," he says, playing with his fingers.

"Yeah, I think we do." He looks at her.

"Y/n I want to start saying that I am really sorry. For everything, and I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore, I don't know if we are together right now, you know? You kinda broke up with me," he chuckles, and she does as well. Good sign, Spencer thinks.

"I think we can try, you know? I understand why you did what you did, but it doesn't ease the fact you didn't tell me," Y/n signs. Of course she wanted him back, after all. But she was concerned about their communication skills, not only Spencer’s but hers.

"I know, but I will make it up to you, and I can work that out. Please.” Spencer takes her cold hands into his, giving small kisses to them.

"We need to try the communication, but it can work," Spencer smiles and hugs her.

She hid her face in his neck, and he does the same. He felt like home, he felt like everything was okay, and it was now. She stepped back, but then she hugs him, this time putting her head in his chest.

She looks at the stars, but he's looking at her. She looks at him, smiling. "Why are you not looking at the stars? It is a beautiful night."

He smiles at her, "Because you are the only star I want to look at."

She smiled at him and hid her blushed face from him. He smiles and hugs her tight.

Even though they had an awful night, she still looks at the stars at the end of the day.

At that moment, without them knowing, they made a promise to all the stars in the night sky. At that moment, when they were the only ones in the world.

They enjoy each other warmth, the one they have been craving for, the one that keeps them in their track, with the promise they will try one more time, and maybe a happy ending with love and pride.

Finally everything will be okay, because they were together like the stars in the night sky who were looking at them with pride and love, to always and forever to the end of the world.

276 notes · View notes

ackermanshoe · 4 years

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"Mikasa?!"

"get your shit together"

"we are the only ones who can stop Eren"

Well smart ppl, this is the first time in the entirety of attack on titan Levi "snapped" towards Mikasa. The look on his eyes it's so full concern, did he know what was happening to her? Did he realise it was her headache or did he think it was Eren doing something?

Maybe he snapped bc he was absolutely tired of Erens shit and mikasa's hesitation towards him. Maybe he was so worried that he couldn't get his words to come out? "Get your shit together" is such a Levi think to say if he said "are you okay?" It would be so out of character.

I know I don't need to explain this as we are all aware that Levi's way with Mikasa is like none other, right? Eg when he snapped at historia for not being able to give a straight answer to the biggest decision of her life - more: he often snaps at hanji despite them being friends for years etc.

It also makes me wonder how Levi is so in touch with reality, he's right next to her, could it be that his presence helped Mikasa come back to hers and finally decide to end Eren?

"a theory isn't a fantasy, it's a coherent set of ideas intend to explain something.." and this is me theorising so stay with me. The Ackerman's who had their inhumane power activated are Levi Mikasa and Kenny. Kenny met his tragic end with Yuri, Levi met his tragic end with Erwin and now it is clearly Mikasa's turn. Ik it wasn't obvious but when Kenny Ackerman lost his liege he was completely alone then eventually he had died off. Isn't it funny how the only two Ackerman's to have had years side by side were Mikasa and Levi? It's just my belief that Erwin's death would have caused more harm on Levi if he hadn't had Mikasa by his side and Mikasa would have been more lost in her delusion or dreams without Levi's consent attempt to bring her back to reality. Eg female titan arc.

Even after killing Zeke Levi never found true happiness, was it really the purpose of his life? Definitely not. It almost feels like there's a loose end to tie, possibly with another Ackerman. This is where my theory ( or more questions ) about the shine in his eyes comes in which I will explain later.

I have always seen Mikasa as a doer, who is not indecisive and always goes for the kill. Levi knows that too. This one moment where got her headache and she hesitated to move forward it was a conflict that clearly irretated Levi.

But man if it were anyone else with all their love and care for Mikasa they would have snapped at her ages ago. The patience this man has for Mikasa is unmatched.

Furthermore

"got it"

"Mikasa"

He said this to himself, TO HIMSELF I repeat not to Mikasa or anyone. What does this tell me? It tells me he trusts Mikasa to make the right decision. He knows it's time and he knows that she won't hesitate this time. Remember the gleam in his eyes when Mikasa asked him to help her kill Eren?

It's a gleam of trust and recognition.

To me this is the purest form of support Levi has given not only to Mikasa but anyone at all. It kinda makes me feel soft if I'm being honest but I can't explain that with facts.

Might I mention how how Levi said mikasa's name more in this one chapter than he has said in the entire manga?

( if someone know why he never calls Mikasa by her name please let me know I'm so hung up on that and still wondering what could be the meaning behind it )

It can be said the same with Mikasa calling Levi "captain" several times in the last chapter and possibly this one.

It may be a personal view of mine but the I think there's a lot of significance in calling ones name. But in rivamika's relationship the lack there of name calling makes it much more interesting to theorise. I have always been someone who would hesitate to say my crush's name because I feel like it would be awkward and make the conversation much more intimate. Yeah it's just a theory but most people would avoid using their crushes name because it makes them nervous and the fact their crush exist near them much more realistic. ( Input scene from there first caridge scene where Levi called Mikasa by her name to tell her to protect Eren with all her skills and Mikasa had a drop sweat on her, she was caught off guard by his voice calling her name )

If I was to assume this is what happened with Levi not mentioning mikasa's name ( all that often ) then it kinda makes sense. And now that we have Levi finally calling out her name in the middle of a life or death battle it makes me wonder if he is finally breaking out of a invisible shell and confronting his feelings (?)

Note: "feelings" can be interpreted as romantic AND non romantic. I don't mean to say that I think he is in love with her that's realistically thinking.

Idk how to word this properly but it's like he is becoming more aware of mikasa's importance in his life and vice versa (?)

Ones name is the biggest connection they have with their individuality and the fact that Levi calls her name several times in this particular chapter makes me think it's somehow connected to Mikasa letting go off Eren and choosing herself + Levi and whoever is left to save. I believe Levi already knew this since the moment the gleam came into his eyes, like I mentioned many many many times Levi knows things about Mikasa before she does. For Levi it's like looking into a mirror that goes backwards in time.

If I'm going to talk more about the gleam in Levi's eyes I might as well put it all down on the table and you can view it however you want.

Remember this

"is it from hope or despair that this strength comes from?"

Well the gleam to me represents hope, not only for the survival of them two by killing Eren, but for Mikasa herself, finding herself MIGHT just be the gleam of hope Levi's strength came from. Individuality. This is more like forshadowing the future than the present.

It also reminds me of S1 when Levi's eyes gleamed when Eren expressed his hatred towards the titans. The look of obsession, to kill the titans and now mikasa's determination to kill Eren ( her obsession).

If I'm being a delulu then yes I do think he is in love with her and nothing less 🤩 and this look^^ above is so sexy can they just idk send me the wedding invitation already I'm 🕯️😔🕯️ tired of waiting.

Anyways I'm going to end this here I feel like I write so much and if anyone asked me what this was all about in real life I would prolly run away rather than speaking. Thank you guys for being here and supporting me and everyone else! I hope the last chapter is at least 100 pages long because we need it 😭🕯️😭.

Edit: I apologize for making this so long I was going to post it like tomorrow but I think it will makes sense if I do it now rather than later.

Also regarding the snapping bit I honestly think it's just because the way he speaks it comes out as harsh which is natural for his character we already know he cares so much about her, he was panicking guys.

#levimika #rivamikacanon #rivamika #levi x mikasa #levikasa #rivamika analysis #theory

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Good Help - chapter 4 - ao3 link

The day Wen Ruohan returned, Meng Yao felt ready for just about anything short of an immediate order of execution. He had survived an increasingly frantic set of attempts to murder him – in many instances, his survival was entirely courtesy of A-Jue – and had a list of achievements as long as his arm, each one backed with public recognition and an explanation as to how they fit into Wen Ruohan’s pre-existing orders.

He'd disposed of any dissenters, too.

The return ceremony was no time for someone to blurt out something awkward.

It was intricately planned: first the multitude out in the Nightless City, cheering their Emperor’s return, then the procession through the court with all its ministers and representatives of all the other Great Sects, and finally the entrance to the throne room, which would contain only those most important to the Emperor: his closest deputies, his wives and concubines, and of course the Empress far above them all in her sedate chair.

And Meng Yao, of course.

The innermost hall would be guarded by those guards assigned to it, an honor that they all lusted for, and Meng Yao had abrogated the right of the guard captain to select each of them himself, claiming that all of the disasters in the past few weeks had shown him the need to take especial care of their beloved Emperor’s life.

He didn’t select A-Jue.

He hadn’t even looked for his name in the list. He'd rather deliberately planned on A-Jue not attending, in fact, and A-Jue hadn’t questioned it, only saluted with a bow deeper than any of the (usually ironic and highly irreverent) ones that had come before. Their eyes had met briefly – a glance full of regret, regret and understanding – and they had said no more about it, each going their own way that evening as if everything were the same.

And then, in the morning…

A-Jue had not come.

Meng Yao had not permitted himself to be disappointed.

He’d turned his mind to other things, to preparations, to making sure everything was perfect, and it was. He’d worried briefly about the Empress, that she might refuse to leave seclusion, but she was there before he was, seated and waiting in her place, a larger than life statue in her thousand veiled layers as always. He’d stressed over the placement of the guards, but they were there, shining and immaculate as always, each one carefully selected for their talent at discretion. He’d checked over his multiple plans designed to let him survive.

He was as ready as he could ever be.

Wen Ruohan’s procession took an age, the concubines in the inner hall yawning and shifting from leg to leg, the veiled Empress as unmoving as stone. Meng Yao took her as his model and remained still, refusing to show weakness.

And then –

The Emperor walked in through the doors, a swirl of robes, and no matter how much Meng Yao had prepared himself, he still involuntarily drew a breath when he felt the sheer power radiating off the man. There were those that accused Wen Ruohan of doing dark and dirty things to get his power, those whisperers all dissatisfied and envious, and they were probably right, too. But those that entered his presence, that were subject to his might directly, knew that it didn’t matter how he’d gotten his power.

Power was power.

Strength was strength.

Wen Ruohan had the face of a young man and the aura of a vicious beast, the temperament of an emperor and the emotional stability of a madman – and he had enough power to crush all the rest of them with a snap of his fingers.

He swept into the room like a storm.

Following in his wake were those he had taken with him on his travels: his highest-ranked guards, his most favorite servants, and Imperial Consort A-Sang, veiled and hidden but for his clever eyes, characteristic scholar’s fan held loosely in his hands.

Walking freely, as if he feared nothing.

As if he owned the hall.

Meng Yao was not the only one who tensed at the sight of the Imperial Consort and his blithe unconcern, thinking that the last thing that they needed right now at this moment was the bitter internecine conflict of the harem breaking out.

And then, of course, it turned out that their concern, all those rumors and suspicions and speculations and schemes, were all for nothing.

Wen Ruohan didn’t so much as look at the rest of them – not the concubines he had obtained, unmatchable in their beauty; not the guards he had nurtured, each one as ferocious as a tiger and as precious as pearl held in his palm; not the deputies he valued so highly; not even Meng Yao to who he had entrusted his city, his sect, his empire.

He had eyes only for his Empress.

“My beloved,” he said with a smile and hands extended as he climbed the stairs, Imperial Consort A-Sang left forgotten behind him to quietly retake his proper place among the other concubines. “Have you missed me?”

The Empress ignored him, silent and unmoving as always.

Wen Ruohan did not take offense the way he might have with someone else – the way he would have, with anyone else.

Meng Yao had heard people say that Wen Ruohan was mad over his unspeaking statute of an Empress, but his time in the Fire Palace had made it difficult for him to believe it. Wen Ruohan enjoyed rape, among the multitude of torments inflicted there, and he took sadistic pleasure in snatching would-be brides or daughters, sometimes even sons, from people he disliked and forcing them to become concubines; the more he disliked them, the more time he spent in the beds of their loved ones.

He was a man who enjoyed violence and humiliation above all else. How could such a man fall in love?

Much less with the Empress, of all people. The frigid, silent Empress, who had no political backing to prove her worth, who had been there by his side for years and years – long enough for any man to grow bored, much less an Emperor who commanded the wind and storm, who could have anyone he pleased?

Meng Yao couldn’t believe it.

And yet, it appeared – he was wrong.

Wen Ruohan’s gaze as he walked up to his wife went beyond passion and into obsession. The miraculous treasure he had obtained in the south, a powerful spiritual weapon in the shape of a lamp that was said to increase the speed of the bearer’s cultivation a dozen times over, was placed in front of her.

“Do you like what I got for you?” Wen Ruohan asked, and the Empress turned her veiled head aside, a clear gesture of rejection. “So picky, so picky. I could pluck the moon out of the sky for you, my beloved, and you wouldn’t care…”

Any normal woman would yield to such persuasion.

Any woman who knew fear, knew Wen Ruohan’s fickle moods, would seek to at least temporize, distract.

The Empress ignored him.

“Same as always,” Wen Ruohan sighed exaggeratedly, and put his hand upon her cheek, turning her face back to him. “You never do change, do you, A-Jue?”

A cold sharp shock spread at the base of Meng Yao’s spine.

The Empress permitted her head to be turned, to be raised to regard her imperial husband.

“Fuck off,” A-Jue said, his voice painfully familiar, and attacked.

“Would you like some more tea?” A-Sang – Huaisang, apparently, Nie Huaisang, just as A-Jue was apparently the long-thought-dead heir of the Nie sect, Nie Mingjue, and obviously had never even once been a guard of any hall whatsoever – asked Meng Yao, patting his shoulder sympathetically yet again. “You’ve had a hard day.”

“No, thank you,” Meng Yao said, both because he didn’t know where he’d put the needles he used to check tea for poison after the last cup and also because he wanted to keep some room in his belly for the barrel of liquor he intended to find and down at some point later on.

He rather thought he deserved it.

A hard day. He scarcely had words to explain how much Nie Huaisang was understating things. A hard day!

Meng Yao still had blood splattered on his face from standing too close to the throne when A-Jue – Nie Mingjue, he needed to remember that – when Nie Mingjue decapitated the Emperor right in front of all his deputies and concubines, which was immediately followed by half of said concubines pulling out knives or swords or other weapons and moving at once to hold the other half hostage. The shrieks of those concubines that had not been in the know acted as a signal to those outside the hall, the roar of fighting breaking out at once, and Meng Yao didn’t even want to think about the gigantic mess they’d undoubtedly turned the Sun Palace into.

(But that was still better than thinking over and over, with no little amount of hysteria, I’m so glad I never ordered him to serve me in bed!)

Nie Mingjue had stalked out to the door, the frankly gigantic saber he’d always carried around everywhere finally drawn – it felt almost alive to Meng Yao’s admittedly inferior senses, alive and vicious and cruel and bloodthirsty, and he remembered how he’d once laughed off A-Jue’s claim that death would inevitably follow if he drew his blade – and he’d been greeted by shouts of acclaim and admiration from his followers, cries of dismay and despair from his enemies. He’d still been dressed in an Empress’ robes, which he’d torn apart for more mobility, but no one had cared one bit.

I guess the problems really did start in the harem, Meng Yao thought to himself, and thought he might still be a little hysterical.

Jiang Cheng had shown up at some point, wielding some sort of lighting-whip; he’d only stopped long enough to pull Nie Huaisang into a brief embrace before continuing onwards, his voice snapping out orders as sharp and vicious as his weapon, his orders obeyed by what might or might not have been a secretly resurrected Jiang sect. And he was the least disturbing of their visitors – the Lan sect apparently had been hiding a demonic cultivator away in their placid and boring little mountain retreat, just waiting to bring his unique brand of necromancy to cause havoc in the Nightless City – !

“How did I miss all this?” Meng Yao found himself asking Nie Huaisang, who smiled at him.

“Scale,” he said. “You were so close to everything, and your ascension so abrupt, that you had no chance to catch us – by the time you were put in charge, everything was already in the works. You would have only been able to see the patterns as they were, not as Wen Ruohan would have had them be.”

That made sense.

“You came pretty close a few times, though,” Nie Huaisang added thoughtfully. “I had to deal with more than a few frantic messages from my brother – thanks for spilling that, by the way.”

Meng Yao could not, for the life of him, tell if Nie Huaisang was being sarcastic.

He did feel marginally appeased that he’d come close.

“Was it always supposed to happen now?” he asked, curious. “The lamp he retrieved – was it –”

“Oh, no, no, we’re three months early! The lamp wasn’t important at all; it was just something I dug up a reference to because I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist going after it and we needed him out of the way to set up the last few things we needed. And then da-ge got into a fight with him so that he’d get the idea to drag me with him – he’s vindictive like that, but also predictable – and that gave me the opportunity to keep on poisoning him. The whole thing was actually supposed to be at his birthday banquet, after he’d gotten drunk…it’s all your fault, you know.”

“Me?”

“He was going to execute you, as you’d suspected,” Nie Huaisang said. “Your methods would have forced his hand – he couldn’t have done it publicly, not and keep his self-image of the merit-rewarding Emperor intact. But he promised your father that you’d be dead before the month is out, even if he had to cause an ‘accident’ himself.”

Meng Yao shuddered. That’d been the one weakness of his plan: his weak cultivation, which Wen Ruohan could have used to excuse a death from a supposedly ‘friendly’ interaction.

Still, that wasn’t the key part of what Nie Huaisang had said.

“You sped up your plans – for me?” he asked, confused, and Nie Huaisang nodded. “Why?”

“My brother likes you! He doesn’t like just about anybody, really,” Nie Huaisang said, voice blithe and merry as it had always been, something that raised Meng Yao’s hackles more than relaxed him. Clearly Nie Huaisang wasn’t anywhere near as useless and head-in the-sky, dreamy and idealistic, as he’d appeared for years. “Especially when it turned out that you were easy enough to convince into not continuing to commit atrocities as long as another route was offered – you don’t know how hard some people find that, and of course you did come out of the Fire Palace, very suspicious, but all in all you passed your trial period with flying colors. So obviously we couldn’t let you just die, could we?”

“…this humble one thanks you,” Meng Yao forced himself to say.

Nie Huaisang waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, you’re a good administrator,” he said. “And there’s still the Nightless City and all the Empire left to manage. You don’t mind, do you? There should be fewer assassination attempts now.”

Meng Yao frowned. “Those attempts…?”

“We spread word that Wen Ruohan was planning on keeping you,” Nie Huaisang said, and he didn’t even sound apologetic. “Obviously Wen Ruohan had already encouraged all those he thought were his enemies to attack you, but we tried to lure out the rest of them: his most faithful servants, the greedy and the vile – that part of the plan was before we got to know you. Or, well, before my brother did. He felt so bad after a while…I don’t see why. He protected you, and together you got rid of any number of the people who would have been our fiercest enemies! So what if you had to endure a little stress?”

No, Nie Huaisang was definitely not useless and dreamy and idealistic.

“Now there’s really only one problem,” Nie Huisang mused. “It’d be strange if you went from being Wen Ruohan’s viceroy to being ours, so we need to give you a new position. But what would suit…?”

“Huaisang! Meng Yao!”

They both turned.

A-Jue – Nie Mingjue, why couldn’t he remember – strode towards them. He’d changed into proper robes at some point, dark ones that could handle bloodstains, and he looked like a war-god, shining with power as bright as sunlight. He was every bit as powerful as Wen Ruohan was, in his own way – the blazing sun to Wen Ruohan’s dark and ominous hurricane – but that wasn’t so much of a surprise, given as he was such a ridiculous cultivation maniac…and, oh, they’d made jokes about the Empress right in front of him. They’d joked about her dual cultivating with the Emperor in front of him – !

No wonder he was so powerful. Wen Ruohan literally shared his spiritual energy with Nie Mingjue, presumably for years, the cultivation making them both grow more powerful and creating a connection between them, a connection that Nie Mingjue had used to drain all that power away from a weakened Wen Ruohan – Nie Huaisang’s unspecified poison, presumably – and then to sever the bond between them when he severed the erstwhile Emperor’s head.

A-Jue smiled at them both, just as free and easy and straightforward as he’d ever been.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally met!” he said, beaming. “You’re very similar, in some ways; I think you’ll get along excellently. Which is good, because I’ll need all the help I can get –”

And then he started talking about a publicity campaign, rearranging the army, and tax reform, about implementing Meng Yao’s system of random audits for more than just wheat and expanding the Watchtowers concept across the entire Empire, and Meng Yao stupidly felt a little like someone had given him flowers and romantic poetry written just for him.

At his side, Nie Huaisang started giggling.

“Oh,” he said. “Well there’s always that, I suppose. It’ll work quite well. I think you’ll make a very nice Empress, Meng Yao – perhaps a bit more sociable than our last, wouldn’t you say?”

The pinnacle of power, Meng Yao thought to himself, and shrugged, accepting his likely fate with a smile that he thought was even genuine. And why not? He could have everything he’d had under Wen Ruohan, except with a leader that would actually listen to him – that he had already trained to listen to him – and it would good for them, too. They’d keep him around, he was sure of it.

After all – good help was so very hard to find.

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #good help

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flickeringart · 4 years

Text

Virgo Sun and Moon Combinations

Planets represent different energetic principals in the life of an individual – the signs show what filter these energies express through.

Having an inner planet (or luminary) in the sign of Virgo gives the personality a shrewd, analytical quality. No matter what other placements the person has, the methodical and adaptive nature is going to come through.

To simplify;

The Sun represents individuation, ideal self-expression and conscious self-actualization.

The Moon represents instinct, emotional nature and personal needs.

Virgo Sun – Aquarius Moon

This person’s path of individuation involves coming to understand the components of physical life as intimately as possible. This means that a sense of self is found through in depth observation of what works and doesn’t work in terms of handling everyday life. A lot of emphasis should be put on following the empirical trail of cause and effect, but not to establish a deterministic view that life is fundamentally working like a wound up toy and that there’s no free will. The person should seek to understand life in order to work with it in order to gain a sense of autonomy. Emphasis should be put on attempting to do the right thing in terms of carrying out behavior. The emotional temperament is quite level, not too dramatic unless it is to prove a point or initiate change. The instinct is to understand one’s own needs on an intellectual level and relate to them as abstractions, as phenomena of the human condition. There’s likely a strong urge for independence and self-possession in this person. Being dominated and disrespected would be the worst, especially since there’s an idealistic streak to the temperament. Behaving in a way that fails to indicate that certain essential humanitarian values are in place makes this person’s skin crawl. The person needs space in relationships more than anything – being burdened by too much confusion or chaos doesn’t work well. Some people are comfortable with intensely personal experiences, which is not the case for this person. There has to be space around everything that is experienced, a kind of detachment from the up close and personal. One could probably navigate any terrain as long as one wasn’t “in it” completely. Change is always felt to be possible to this individual. The mind or the “soul” has to be held in the greatest esteem as to not let it be tainted by the limited and temporary. Although the temperament is idealistic, the path of selfhood is more concerned with the realistic. It’s concerned with the resources and conscious cultivation of health on a practical level. In many ways, this combo lends itself well to living in alignment with convictions while remaining open to reconsidering and redoing things in order to improve well-being. The fixed temperament stabilizes the personality while there’s a continuous striving to become more nuanced and flexible as part of the individuation process. Overall, there’s the potential to be of true service in the world, and to show an ethical and liberal disposition. One should be cautious of the tendency to become obsessed with perfection in oneself and other people to the point of detriment. It’s good to have high standards but they shouldn’t become a burden.

Virgo Sun – Taurus Moon

The person would strive to develop the observational and analytical faculties throughout life while being temperamentally suited for the long-term grind. A stable and functional base of material safety is sought first and foremost to meet the personal needs. As it relates to individuation, there’s more of an emphasis on curiosity and processing information rather than merely settling into a comfortable life. The person would find a sense of selfhood through caring about organizing and structuring things and to make it work practically. Usually there’s a lot of reassessing and adjusting that is going to be part of the person’s life path. The intellect is supposed to be sharpened and put to use as to facilitate a smooth process of living. The emotional nature is quite compatible with what the definition of the ideal self, which makes it so that there’s not tug between potential and innate temperament. The overall personality is earth based, which comes with all the positive qualities of practicality, duty, good work ethic, patience, stability and serenity. On the flip side, there are the negative qualities of stagnancy, blind stubbornness and avoidance of change. The more the person self-actualizes, the more flexibility and adaptability is going to show. The innate temperament is quite fixed and reliable in that the person will instinctually gravitate toward what’s familiar and constant. Too much unpredictability and uncertainty makes the person worried and anxious. The person needs to know that he or she owns things permanently and be reassured that some things aren’t going to alter with time. There’s a need for permanence that has to be considered and met. Physical comfort is extremely important and should not be overlooked. Fortunately, this is also part of what it means to be stepping into one’s identity. To organize the physical components of one’s life situation and to make them work in harmony as to secure overall health and well-being. It’s important to not fall into the trap of micro managing everything and cultivating a sound judgment on what is worth obsessing about and what is not. With a double earth combo it’s advisable to not become too dogmatic and fixated on ritual. It’s easier said than done, because it’s true that the routines that we stick to can make or break us, get us to where we want or in the opposite direction. It’s good to attempt to take a more broad perspective and detach from the outcome enough to not be blinded by the fear of not doing things right. Life has it’s own invisible intelligence and not everything depends on us being on top of things in order to prevent disaster.

Virgo Sun – Scorpio Moon

The person strives to be self-reliant, methodical and reasonable. The person is set on a path of self-sufficiency and a path of acquiring skillsets that are useful. The person should strive to anchor his or her life in service – being receptive to what any given situation calls for in terms of adjustment. That which can be done should be done in this person’s opinion - it should be done with humility and genuine desire to be of assistance. Virgo Suns are people who strive to better themselves, to facilitate and make way for the optimal expression of life. This requires openness and discernment as well as good observational ability. In combo with a Scorpio Moon, the personality is set up for laser sharp focus. The emotional nature is intensely linked to the person’s individual self; everything that is felt is taken personally. The person is quick to spot threat and very careful to let people in. Vulnerability is guarded carefully. One might be prone to quickly be triggered into defense mode and as a result, attack or isolate in order to cope. The person is probably afraid of their own ability to feel and afraid of other people’s ignorance and lack of awareness. There’s usually a lot of pent up anger, or more accurately – rage. There’s not much that this person forgets because there’s the experience of being permanently damaged by things. Emotions are given enormous importance and are not just something one goes through. It is who one is on an innate, instinctual level. For this reason it becomes very important to this type of individual to control emotions because they are so intense and fearful. This can become a vicious cycle because the more rigid and controlling one becomes, the more the emotions are suppressed and allowed to fester. The analytical Virgo identity might try to rationally deal with the inexplicable intensity, trying to make sense of things intellectually. Sometimes this works and sometimes it doesn’t because the conscious mind can only brush the surface of what is going on most of the time. However, with this combo it seems like practical skills will have to be developed in order to navigate the emotional climate. The person may go through daily deaths and rebirths; feelings of being in control and out of control yet there’s probably a deep need to transcend all of it. There could be a lot of dabbing in the mysteries of life, the underpinnings of reality. This combo likely produces a reserved individual that has a strong magnetism and shrewd judgment. The person would strive to look put together and impeccable – strive to have an eye for the details and technicalities of things. No doubt the person would come off as intimidating because of the secretive and intense vibe, not to mention the proclivity to be critical and realistic. There would also be the impression of strength and efficiency on the more positive end of the bargain.

Virgo Sun – Leo Moon

The practical busybody is combined with an open display of emotion. This combo could be a person who is concerned with making things work practically while needing to get recognition and attention for it. These signs together present a bit of a paradox because Virgo is the humble servant and Leo is the divine child. The person strives to be of service – to be someone who is self-possessed and willing to be put to use in the world to serve. The personal temperament on the other hand is dramatic and big – one wants to be treated as someone special, someone who is talented and worthy of admiration. The person might experience a disharmony within relative to these distinctly different pulls if one hasn’t worked out a way to make room for them both yet. If the need for appreciation isn’t met, the person might turn sulky, bitter and resentful. There might be an attempt to create drama or inflate the emotional experiences in order to make people take notice of the inner experiences. Leo Moon can be the epitome of a drama queen, as it tends to blow things up in order to enhance a sense of significance. However, the Virgo ideal is not on board with any of the drama and disarray. A solar Virgo wants to actualize qualities of proper conduct and proper living. This usually doesn’t include exaggeration or unnecessary demonstrations of one’s worth. In Virgo’s mind people should know their worth, not resort to “shameful” self-expression and self-centeredness. One’s worth is shown through diligence and intelligence in the way one handles life. There’s more of a respectful approach to Virgo, although the person might slip-up in moments of stress and become overly critical of the environment and of other people. In general the person has high standards and could turn sour if other people get more love (attention) and rewards for their work and efforts. The person can’t stand not being given their due – even if one probably claims that “it doesn’t matter”. The key is, of course, to not focus so much on others and focus in on one’s own uniqueness and talents. One doesn’t have to prove or compare oneself to other’s so called “success” - it never really works. It’s wise to hone in on what makes one feel strong and important, on what generates confidence and steer one’s thoughts and actions in that direction. The path of self-actualization is to develop useful skills in order to serve life and to serve the self. The lunar needs will benefit greatly from the confidence boost of “being good at something” which might lead to less friction felt on an emotional level. Acquiring skills will make the person feel worthwhile and of value to others and the self.

Virgo Sun – Libra Moon

The orderly and detail oriented ideal self is combined with a relationship- oriented temperament. This combo is the definition of “perfection” or “pleasantness” because the person is preoccupied with other people and creating social harmony while striving to be humble and put-together. The person probably has an exceptionally likable air. There’s probably an innocence that is unmistakable that stems from a need for harmony and an ideal of orderliness. On a temperamental level, the person needs to be liked and will do anything to gain other people’s approval. This is not done by down right agreeing with everything other people think - it’s done through skillful diplomacy, of defending an ideal of fairness at all costs. Friction is unbearable to this person and there’s always an attempt to make it go away by adjusting and modifying. There’s sensitivity to roughness because the person craves the light and easy more than anything. Overall the personality is very unsuited for coarse and “less than civilized” behavior. The person is set on perfection when it comes to planning, processing and relating to other people. The sensitivity to imbalance can be both a blessing and a gift. On the one hand it can make others feel judged, on the other hand it can make them feel respected and protected. There’s always a tendency with the Libra Moon to not take sides but to always side with the idea of the ideal and attempt to adjust things accordingly. The Virgo Sun doesn’t operate from an ideal but from the standpoint of what could facilitate everyday life and lead to optimal and well-rounded health. Virgo works from a standpoint of examining life and taking action according to what is practically needed in the present. The person would appreciate neat simplicity. Everything that is done should have a purpose, ideally. However, the instinctual needs might occasionally push toward indulging in pleasure for pleasure’s sake. It might not be the most practical and healthy choice that is made from this space, but there’s little risk of over doing it since it all stays within what is considered to be “right” according to a certain standard of pleasantness. Moderation would be the unconscious program this person is running on. It is accomplished by constantly checking the self to evaluate what is working and not working. The person’s ultimate fulfillment lies is adapting and adjusting to evolve and become better through trial and error.

Virgo Sun – Capricorn Moon

The process of individuation is characterized by constant improvement, of adjusting and modifying components of physical life in order for it to be purposeful. The innate temperament is concentrated, serious and restricted. There’s probably difficult for this person to let emotions flow freely without attempting to keep them in place. There’s fear of sensation getting out of hand and hindering one’s ability to keep up with one’s ambition. There’s an innate need to achieve and accomplish something tangible that will meet one’s needs but it seems to require effort and temporary deprivation. The concept of “work” is ingrained in the person. Nothing is free of charge. One can’t expect to get any true fulfillment through luck– that’s just not how the world works. One has to organize and limit the self in the right way in order to yield concrete results. Safety, comfort and satisfaction are not gained through letting things be. The base line is always misery and disorder but one can work upwardly to reach heights of joy. If anything, this kind of person has the potential for making something happen in the world of form through deliberate strategy. The Virgo Sun seeks to be of service to be genuinely helpful in terms of work while the Capricorn Moon provides an innate work ethic and a patience to see things through when the going gets rough. That being said there’s always a risk for depriving oneself too much with a Cap Moon. A lot of guilt and fear can lie at the core of motivation, making the work more destructive than constructive to the person. It’s very important to not let the concern of failure dominate one’s whole existence, although it’s easier said than done with this combo. Self-care and self-acceptance play a big role in living a happy life – without a dose of ease along the long road of life the goal won’t be worth it. With this combo there’s the proclivity for judging and critiquing excessively to the point of it becoming depressing to the self and to others. It’s not always helpful to jump in and be the fixer of everything - sometimes things don’t have to be forced, they can be trusted to work themselves out. Being busy isn’t always the most productive; sometimes space is needed to receive some clarity on how to proceed. Taking action and going to work on something is what this person is going to excel at. Assessing what a situation needs and providing it will feel wonderful because it’s in alignment with one’s ideal self. Although the emotional temperament is strained and austere, it’s deeply invested in doing what is “right” and not being too demonstrative about it.

Virgo Sun – Cancer Moon

This combo reflects a gentle and humble person that is instinctively caring and keen to be of service. There’s going to be something pure and innocent about the person, which is not to imply that one exudes weakness, merely that one is self-possessed and sensitive. The person likes to be someone who can look after him or herself, but at the same time craves to be cared for by another person. There might be a strong need for close personal relationships with a simultaneous striving to rely on one’s own capability and discernment. On the one hand, the person would like to rationally observe and think and reach conclusions on his or her own – to take action according to the gathering of facts. On the other hand there’s a tendency to come off as needy and moody, to let complaining and whining take over. A Cancer Moon is a tricky one, because it has a direction and an agenda but it won’t pursue its needs upfront. It pursues closeness through displaying sensitivity and vulnerability and appealing to people’s sympathy – not necessarily in a clingy way though. A Cancer Moon usually offers understanding and emotional support in return for being listened to. They don’t tend to judge people for feeling, but they certainly condemn that which is harsh and attacking. Instinctively, the person is defensive rather than assertive. The Virgo Sun would help to keep the person keep occupied with something concrete instead of staying stuck in protection mode. The solar Virgo always seeks solutions and answers; they aim to be resourceful and effective. More than likely the person would develop great skills to deal with overwhelm and mood swings through organizing the daily life in the right way – managing diet or routine in order to remedy the worst of it. The person would likely have an air of being “a good and decent person” without any frills or excesses. Cutting to the point of what is important and avoiding the unnecessary makes for a good life. It’s the little things that matter; the day-to-day living that is treasured the most. Being able to enjoy the ordinary is what this person does the best. Truly, the person just want to be caring and of the utmost use when it comes to their own and other people’s well being. There’s great potential for intuitively sensing what others are experiencing emotionally which blends well with the desire to be of service. This person is not only concerned with the physical but with the emotional as well – the soul has to be fed first and foremost.

Virgo Sun – Aries Moon

The ideal self is methodical and practical while the instinctual self is impulsive and assertive. There’s a lot of energy to this person that needs an outlet. There’s a thrill that’s experienced through projecting and extending energy outwardly. What this person needs is very simple, to be protruding and uncompromisingly expressive. Usually one gets away with it because it is done in such a genuine and uncalculated manner that it won’t produce long term grudges in other people. The person is very direct and forceful temperamentally, but it’s not sprung out of festering emotion. One moves on and forgets quite quickly even though things can get heated in the moment. The ideal self, as represented by the Virgo Sun, is however not entirely compatible with the instinctual Aries mode. Virgo is quietly observing and getting things done in order to purposefully put things in order. It’s deliberate and thoughtful in action and method. Nothing is left to chance because life is too important to not take seriously. There are too many components and factors that are necessary to make up a good life – the devil is in the details. The Aries temperament can unfortunately function counter to the Virgo ideal, causing a great deal of tension and frustration within the person. Instinctually, the person is not humble and doesn’t like taking advice or asking for help. One just wants to express for the sake of expressing – it doesn’t have to be perfect or profound in anyway. Emotionally the person just wants to be allowed to be direct and honest without having to modify behavior. To have to mold oneself to a social or societal standard is a nuisance because it denies the spirit within to be what it wants to be at any given moment. This combo would indicate a person who is impulsive and competitive in nature but strives to be meticulous and careful. It could become a little confusing, not only to the person in question but to others as well. On the one hand there’s a modest and analytical self that seeks to have everything in order, on the other there’s the need for letting out the force of energy because one has so much of it. When there’s too much energy that wants out it is usually a risk of being too quick or hasty as to ruin whatever one is working on. Fortunately the Virgo Sun might provide the necessary influence to take a step back and carefully assess how things should be done to produce the best results. One might have to keep in mind that physical life requires some precision not only force.

Virgo Sun – Gemini Moon

This combo makes for a mentally active and busy individual. There’s always something going on with this person, there’s restlessness and sensitivity to the environment. The person lives through the intellect – it is one’s primary tool of operating. It’s great for interacting and communicating, learning and acquiring skills but it can also be a burden. If there’s too much stimulation and an overload of information that has to be processed the person doesn’t cope well. Mental fatigue is the single biggest risk for this person. It’s very difficult to stop the mind from constantly running. The person needs to be stimulated and becomes bored if the mind is not fed “quality food” on a daily basis. The person strives to be of service, to put acquired skills to practical use. The person is probably highly esteemed because of one’s casual yet methodical approach to life. Somehow this person would always land with their feet on the ground no matter how chaotic things get. The personal process of individuation involves being resourceful and useful. Whatever the occupation and life situation, the person should hone in on the analytical and processing skills. This would be the most fulfilling, no matter the circumstance. On an instinctual level there’s less of an emphasis of putting one’s skills to use and more of an emphasis on being stimulated. In a nutshell the person simply needs to talk and write and communicate without any serious regard of the outcome. Temperamentally, the person is better suited for creative endeavors than mere methodical and systematical ones. Temperamentally, there’s a need to use the mind and freely conceptualize of things. The personal ideal however, is more deliberate and critical. The person should strive to develop a more grounded approach that is not too eccentric and fanciful. The mundane and ordinary is what stands as the ideal. Cultivating humility and a good work ethic would prove rewarding. Since both the Sun and Moon are mutable, the overall personality would be open to adapting to new situations – there’s a desire to progress and evolve with this combo. Rearranging and reinventing would be appealing. The person is very skilled at taking what’s in front of them and making it work somehow. There’s both a creative-intuitive streak and a detail-protocol- obsessive streak that can be found in this individual. There’s a bit of friction between these two modes of approaching life, but it can serve to stimulate action.

(Buy products with my art)

Virgo Sun – Virgo Moon

This person is a Virgo through and through in terms of personal ideal and temperament. Daily routine and self-sufficiency would not only be what is sought as an ideal but what is deeply needed for this person to feel safe and emotionally fulfilled. There would be an urge to exude capability and intelligence, a need to be on top of everything that has to be done to secure the order of physical components. This is a person that can be trusted with making sure that nothing has been overlooked or missed in the process of organizing or putting together something important. On the downside, the meticulous and detail-oriented disposition can result in the person being tightly wound and stressed. The most important thing is to keep things simple and to the point, which of course requires a whole lot of sorting through the irrelevant details of life to get to the important bits. There’s no end to the process of discerning and adjusting. Other people might be extremely appreciative of the honest and humble quest for order and correctness, but they would not be as appreciative of the critical and nit-picky tendencies. Virgos are very observant and nothing escapes their scrutinizing eyes. This would not only be intimidating to others but it could become a burden to the person in question as well. The act of judging and labeling in order to make sense of things makes for a tense atmosphere with no room for mistakes. The person should take care as to not intellectualize and analyze everything because it leaves no room for freedom of movement and spontaneity. The desire to have everything be perfect is not always beneficial because it allows for no relaxation and trust in life. Having to monitor and control everything only leads to more and more problems to manage. Some things are out of one’s control and one can’t be efficient to the point of nothing ever going wrong. Of course, this doesn’t mean that it’s not worth trying. With this combo there will be a perfectionistic tendency present whether one likes it or not. The person would be well suited to work with something that requires refined skills and a sharp intellect. One would do well with things that can’t be left to chance, that depends on accurate observation and alertness. In relationships there might be shyness and reservation – one would prefer to talk about things that one is familiar with, that falls under one’s domain of expertise. Treading into unfamiliar territory often makes the person uneasy and insecure.

Virgo Sun – Pisces Moon

This is an interesting combo because Virgo and Pisces are opposite signs. The person’s path of individuation leans in the direction of developing skills and methods for handling physical life in a proper way while the instinctual nature is ethereal and diffuse. Emotions are constantly fluctuating and gripping the person from out of nowhere. There’s intimacy with the transient, which conjures up feelings of sorrow and being robbed of the beauty the world has to offer. Yet it is in the frailty that beauty is revealed and it touches this person deeply. Although the person feels the most like the ideal self when there’s efficiency and order present in their life, on a temperamental level there’s a longing for oneness that can border on destructiveness. There would be a strong tendency to romanticize life, to be consumed by fantasy rather in the cold and unglamorous reality of the physical. There’s a polarity conflict between the personal ideal and the personal temperament. The ideal involves practicality, usefulness and moderation while the innate nature is soft, boundless, bittersweet and resigned. The process of individuation does not accommodate for the emotional nature, which makes it so that the person has to consciously make room for both without forgetting about one or the other. It might be easy to project one or the other onto the people in one’s life because the polarity is too difficult to contain within oneself. The person might not like being described as soft-hearted even though it would probably be an accurate description. Capable, self-possessed and skillful would be traits that the person would like to be associated with. Intellectual, analytical and shrewd would be traits that resonate well with the ideal self that wants to be actualized. The person would likely be very sensitive but unwilling to openly show it or admit to feeling any powerful emotional reactions. With this combo it’s particularly important to not try to control or criticize unruly emotions too harshly because it will only enhance the inner disharmony. What can be done however is to deliberately make room for creativity and free flowing activity as to emotionally purge and process everything that is going on. Health is not only about routine, diet or exercise – it’s about being present and open to feeling life unconditionally without any attempt to fix things or put them in order. For this person it’s important to allow emotion to have a free outlet – preferably through some creative medium. Whether it’s art, music or poetry something else, there’s enormous richness that is waiting to be channeled.

Virgo Sun – Sagittarius Moon

This person has a life path of managing mundane life and perfecting methods of living while the temperamental nature is individualistic and spontaneous. This obviously presents a conflict because the path of self-actualization requires concentration and the temperament is too boisterous and freedom hungry to be bothered with tasks that require detailed knowledge. The person needs to live in a big way, on the wings of faith, yet would find that one keeps returning to the theme of living humbly and responsibly. The person would love to learn, experience the world and live without another thought of tomorrow because this is the need that sits at the core of the personal emotions. Freedom is very important; in the sense that one must feel that one has free will. This means that chores and strenuous labor must be done because one has willingly taken it on and not because someone else has demanded it. Being tied down is the worst experience. Variety is essential to this person’s well-being. If it’s withheld, there’s nothing that prevents the person from leaving the situation or stop caring about it all together. There’s a casualness and boldness to the emotional nature that will have varying effect on others. Some will appreciate the simplicity of it; some will resent the insensitivity that it entails. The Virgo ideal would temper the boldness of the Sagittarian instinct slightly because one would consciously prefer to be seen as humble and modest in expression. However, sometimes reactivity will get the best of the person and the Virgo ideal is thrown out the window. When there’s not too much emotional charge and pressure and one has space to consciously choose how to be, the Virgo qualities are going to front more easily. There’s a general proclivity for studying and learning with this combo. From the Virgo end it stems from a desire to be helpful and of service in honor of life, from the Sagittarian end it stems from a spiritual quest to understand and explore the totality of the universal self. Ultimately, the enthusiasm and inspiration that is innate to the person is fueling the ideal of dealing with physical life effectively and with confidence. The tension created between the two signs stimulates action and dynamic activity. The person is controlled and outgoing, careful and impulsive. Life is taken seriously, but it’s also just an opportunity to have fun. It would be important to make sure to not restrict the more adventurous streak of the personality too much, otherwise it might come out with force due to excessive repression. It’s much better to make room for the more instinctual needs before they make room for themselves. Certain needs, if ignored for too long, will operate unconsciously and steer life “off course”.

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meerkatandthesloth · 2 years

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Excellence

Right now, the sloth and I are obsessed with this group of singers and dancers called Ateez. They’re fun, they're energetic, they're gorgeous and best of all, they're absolutely fantastic at what they do.

Ateez is based in Korea, which is why you might not have heard of them, although they’re gaining global recognition pretty fast. I’m intentionally not calling them a K-pop group because I don’t like the term. Specifically, I don’t like how, depending on where an artist is from, their origin is seen as a defining characteristic of their work. Korean pop singers produce K-pop. Japanese pop singers produce J-pop. But I haven't heard the term A-pop before, because if you're an American pop singer, what you produce is simply pop. The word 'K-pop' suggests that all Korean pop songs are more similar to each other than they are to any other pop music produced around the world. Generalizations like that are not only unnecessary and inaccurate, they can be harmful. In this instance, to Korean artists. Have you ever heard someone say 'I don't like K-pop' after hearing one or two songs by one specific band? The term K-pop puts a wide variety of works and musicians in one box, which is unnecessary, disrespectful and limiting. In my opinion. Anyway, we've come a bit off topic.

The reason I’m obsessed with Ateez is because they boost my motivation to do well. Don't worry. I am not an aspiring musician running after my idols and producing my own hopeful yet sadly lacking interpretations of their work. Far from it. I can't even read sheet music. I am a horse trainer. But that's not the point.

The point is excellence. Competitors at an athletics championship, a duo of brilliant acrobats at a small circus, a fantastic comedian and pianist with his own show, a superb actor, a great book; all of these have given me this big boost of motivation before. I just love it when people are good at what they do. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than seeing someone do what they love, what they’re born to do, and do it well. It doesn’t matter what it is that people are doing. If it has that feeling of true talent and ability, it gets me going.

Right now, that is Ateez. The members of Ateez are insanely talented, they obviously love what they do to the core and they work super hard to get better every chance they get. And you see that passion and that discipline in every move they make. Watching them is watching excellence. To me, that is pure inspiration. All it takes right now is an Ateez song for me to go out in the cold and the rain, work an hour longer, train another horse, face a situation I am scared of, and then do yoga in the evening to improve my physical abilities. Because witnessing excellence makes me want to go out and work hard towards excellence myself.

Do other people feel like that? Do you ever watch someone and feel like you're seeing skill in its purest form? And does that not only give you joy but also an almost desperate desire to reach that height, to climb the mountain where those giants live, and to be one of them? I do hope so, because riding that wave of inspiration is a great feeling, and it can carry you far even on days when you're too tired to walk.

So thank you, excellent people, for your time, for your sweat and your tears. I hope you know that your hard work may lift up not only yourselves but other who appreciate your skill and whom you inspire to reach for the stars. I hope you know that your accomplishments have the power to change lives, maybe in small ways, but with important impacts. Your strength can give strength to others. I hope I can do the same for someone someday.

-weird always, meerkat

#excellent #inspiration #motivation #ateez #art #meerkat #workhard #reachforthestars #get better

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 3 years

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Rewatch of ep1 time!!

The little girl dressed as Nat in the theatre smiling at Clint 😭

Dude asking Clint for a selfie in the bathroom still gets me (but also how damn sad he is to see people scribble shit like Thanos was right)

He looks so awkward when the restaurant offer his meal for free, it breaks my heart that he thinks he’s not worthy of any of that

Kate really does look amazing in a tux

I love that Kates first instinct upon seeing a dog is to say hi and talk to it

“What’s your name?” / “that’s the problem, Gary, you don’t even know my name”

Kate being able to sort of hold her own again the Tracksuit Mafia but Not being able to get out of Clint’s grip at the end makes me feel things I don’t understand ahah

But also Clint just straight up taking them all out it’s the COMPETENCE Amy I can’t 😂🙈

OK, OK, OK SO...

The writers of this show are a blessing for recognizing that clint is so thoroughly underappreciated both in and out of the mcu. Like, the obvious part of this is how he reacts to Kate adoring him and being so excited to meet him, but just the little moments like the girl and the waitstaff and GRILLS. My boy finally getting recognition and I love that for him.

Kate is me and I am Kate: chatting to puppers and wants nothing more in life than for Hawkeye to like her.

This phase marvel really said "we are going to give you so many well-rounded, relatable, badass women" and I am HERE for it. Like, I already loved Katie, but they put their whole ass into giving her the debut she deserves and hailee is amazing.

I HAVE BEEN OBSESSED WITH HOW STRONG CLINT IS FOR EVER. Ok, so comic!clint's pull strength on a bow is about 250kg. Most olympic level archers have a pull strength of about 60-70kg. MAN IS STRONG. MAN COULD PICK ME UP AND THROW ME INTO A WALL AND I WOULD THANK HIM.

He might not have supersoldier serum or anything but Clint could one-hit a guy no problem. Also, many wall-pinning thoughts and feelings have arisen from this scene, thank you very much.

I feel like the only real look we got at spy-clint in the movies was (aside from his 'I need an eyeball", taking out the guards bit while under loki's control in avengers) is him using morse code to contact nat in AoU?? And we were OVERDUE to see him like this. THE MAN IS A BADASS. NO POWERS, JUST RAW SKILL AND SARCASM

#raw skill and sarcasm #wow i really have a type between him and tony huh #nicola tag #asks #hawkeye

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voidwerks · 3 years

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Legiones Astartes: Rome 30,0000 - Electric Boogaloo - Part 1

It’s been several years since I did my informational posts on warp travel and threats to humanity in the 40k universe, and I was feeling particularly motivated so here’s a quick, dirty guide to where it all started. The bois that everyone in 40k loves (or loves to hate), the Astartes!

In the far off future of the 31st millennium, humanity has just recovered from nearly beating itself into extinction yet again, and the after effects of space elves blowing a permanent hole in reality after the biggest party the galaxy has ever seen. After thousands of years of plotting and planning, the Emperor of Mankind decided the time was right, sorted everyone’s shit out on Earth, and set out to make the galaxy a safer place for humanity. Whether anyone wanted it or not. To do this, he mustered tens of thousands of super soldiers, lead by men who were basically demi-gods, and sent them forth across the stars in what was known as the Great Crusade. This is the story of the sons of the sons, the Primarchs can have their own post another day.

Numero Uno, the the First Legion, the Dark Angels. Clad in black and silver armor, the Dark Angels were the first marines to be created. Between that and their assistance with retaking the Earth prior to the Great Crusade, they were allowed special permissions later Legions did not have. In particular, they had access to some of the oldest, strangest, and sometimes horrifying bits of technology that the Emperor had stashed away for a rainy day. Even 10k years later in 40k, the Angels still uphold that privilege, and if things ever get completely and truly fucked, they’ve got a few aces up their sleeves just in case. Owing to the culture of their adoptive homeworld, Caliban, the Dark Angels have a strong knightly aesthetic, as well as plenty of ranks, titles, and associated iconography so everyone can know what kind of badass you are.

Second ISN’T the Second Legion. Something bad happened to them and no one is allowed to talk about it. It’s actually the THIRD LEGION, the Emperor’s Children! Among the Legions, the Emperor’s Children had the unique distinction of being allowed to wear his personal emblem on their armor and carry his name. This was the Emperor’s gift to them after a company of them serving as honor guards during a victory parade, where they protected the Emperor from an assassination attempt involving a black hole bomb. The Emperor’s Children were perfectionists: anything that can be done can be done better, and they could get a bit salty when their brother Legions out-did them. Beyond that, they were renowned for their artistic skills, as well as their interpersonal skills with ‘mortal’ humans. While many marines either didn’t care for regular humans, or straight up disliked them, the Third Legion got along quite well with people, to the point they were often sent as diplomats to introduce long-lost planets of humans into the Imperium peacefully.

The Fourth Legion, completely unrelated to Marvel, were the Iron Warriors. To the Fourth Legion, war is entirely a matter of numbers. While other Legions fight with spirit, ferocity, nobility, the Iron Warriors fight with a machine-like efficiency and calculated planning. Rivals of the Seventh Legion, the Iron Warriors were particularly fond of siege-tactics. They’d bombard their foes with massed artillery, push in with columns of tanks, and hit critical points with forces of marines, changing tactics along the way as the variables shifted. While they took pride in their accomplishments, cold personalities and a ruthless fighting style didn’t make them many friends. Combined with feeling like they didn’t get much recognition for their efforts, often being stuck with some of the worst fights, the Iron Warriors tended to resent most of the other Legions. But no matter how tough, no matter how ugly, they would not bend, for the Iron Warriors always completed a task given to them.

Next in line, we have the Fifth Legion, the White Scars. Possessed of free spirits and a healthy dose of superstition, the White Scars preferred style of combat was: as quickly as physically possible. Whenever possible, they would ride to battle on anti-grav jet-bikes or speeders. Lacking that, on traditional motor bikes. Reminiscent of Mongolian horse riders, the White Scars fought from their mounts as often as they could, enjoying every moment of it, even if death might come at them at a few hundred miles per hour. Considered odd by most of their brother Legions, the Scars’ aloof personalities and plans divined by seers often saw them tearing about the galaxy in smaller warbands. Never staying in one place for long, they roamed wherever the winds of fate would take them.

Continuing on, the moment you’ve all been waiting for: SKYRIM STILL EXISTS. But really, the Sixth Legion, the Space Wolves. It doesn’t take much to explain these boys, the Space Wolves were vikings in space. They could be a bit dense, were prone to showing off, loved getting into fights, and even invented a kind of alcohol that could get marines drunk. In peace, they could be a bit rough around the edges but were jovial types. Beyond that however, the Wolves had a much more notorious side. While their brothers would mock them at times for being a bit ‘simple’, they were also feared as the Emperor’s hounds. If someone fucked up somewhere in the galaxy, the Wolves were the sent to deal the punishment. Typically, this involved plenty of axes and other people’s heads. While unconfirmed even 10k years later, it is rumored that the Space Wolves were responsible for reaving both the Second and Eleventh Legions at the Emperor’s command. Whatever they did must have been horrible, for it resulted in the culling of tens of thousands of marines and two demi-god primarchs. So remember kids, tug on the wolf’s tail at your own peril.

Eternal rivals to the Fourth Legion, here comes the Seventh Legion, the Imperial Fists. While not as bitter as their brothers in the Fourth, the Fists shared a lot of similarities with them. Blunt, no-nonsense, analytical, monumentally stubborn, fond of hitting their foes as hard as possible, on the surface the two seemed quite alike. But while the Iron Warriors were frequently unconcerned with what happened after their battles, grinding entire cities into dust, the Imperial Fists would always build and fortify. Wherever they passed, they would leave their mark in the form of walls, repaired cities, and forts to ensure their hold. This earned them the distinction of being recalled late in the Crusade to oversee the fortification of the entire Solar System. The reclamation of the galaxy was nearly complete, and it was their task to ensure that Terra would be able to withstand anything the universe could throw at it from that point forward. At least, that was the idea...

What stalks the night, strikes fear into the hearts of the unjust, and has bat wings? Move over Bruce Wayne, it’s the Eighth Legion, the Night Lords. Among the Legions, the Night Lords were unique in the fact that they did not operate like a traditional army. Unlike other Legions, the Night Lords’ favorite method of fighting was to strike fear and terror into their enemies. Considered brutal and sadistic even in the early days, the Night Lords would ‘pacify’ star systems by cutting off supply lines, destroying infrastructure, terrorizing civilians, and savagely breaking their enemy’s will before finishing the job. Known for taking bone trophies, using blood as paint, painting their armor with skulls, and even fashioning people’s faces into tea cozies, there were very few in the Imperium that genuinely liked the Night Lords. In fact, late into the Crusade they were even risking censure or a visit from the Space Wolves. But as they maintained from their inception: they were a necessary evil. Not everyone in the galaxy was reasonable. Some didn’t even respect the immense might of the Astartes. There were some that would only listen to fear. And the poor buggers that wouldn’t even listen to that? They would be made into examples, slowly, painfully, and without any remorse.

A breath of fresh air from the Night Lords, the Ninth Legion, the Blood Angels. Where the Night Lords were immensely cruel, showcasing some of the worst humanity had to offer, the Blood Angels showed some of the best. Kindness, nobility, flowing golden locks of hair with slight curls, using their strength to protect the weak, seeing the goodness in others, the Blood Angels were quite human for heavily augmented super-soldiers. Well, they did have one teensy little problem. Just a bit of casual bloodlust that could leave them going into a frenzy now and then (sometimes even drinking blood) if they didn’t keep their tempers in check. However, largely due to their own self-discipline they were able to keep this fact a secret for the most part.

Last (for now, don’t want this to be the next Color of the Sky post), but definitely not the least, the Tenth Legion, the Iron Hands. While the Iron Warriors have a very mechanical way of thinking, and a strong affinity for tech, the Iron Hands take this to a completely new level. To them, anything could be improved by mechanizing it, up to and frequently including themselves. The Hands were notorious for heavily modifying themselves, and had more tanks than any other Legion, tied only with the Iron Warriors. Ironically for a Legion obsessed with machinery, the Iron Hands are also possessed of a volatility only shared by their brothers in the Sixth and the Twelfth Legions. In contrast to the cool, collected rationality of machines, Astartes of the Iron Hands were notoriously hot-headed and liable to making rash decisions if they lost their tempers. This alternating clash frequently manifested as contempt for their own ‘weakness’, but also as contempt for others, resulting in the Iron Hands keeping very few friends, even amongst themselves.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #games workshop #forge world #dark angels #blood angels #iron warriors #emperor's children #night lords #space wolves #white scars #imperial fists #iron hands

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somethingwritey · 4 years

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commission: “kids in love” - a zukka fic

hi all! i was commissioned to write a zuko/sokka fic by @kurisu-80. it features a 5+1 style, some hurt/comfort, and lots of zuko pining. we brainstormed the premise of the fic before i began, and it’s here just in time for valentine’s day!

💖 commission me! visit this post for more commission details!

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Zuko didn’t know how to feel.

The hardest part was over, presumably, and yet the brand new emotion coursing through his body - no doubt unlocked by the Avatar’s reluctant trust - unsettled him. He wanted a name for it.

After thinking it over, he settled on relief.

For so long, he’d been consumed by nothing but white-hot anger - and beneath that, searing pain - that relief was hard to recognize. It wasn’t hot. Instead, it ran down his back and legs and arms like water. But… he had to admit, he rather liked it.

“Unpack,” came a voice behind him. Zuko jumped a little; he’d almost forgotten that Sokka was still there in the doorway. “Lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Welcome.

Zuko hadn’t felt welcome in a long time.

He looked up at Sokka to thank him, but paused - suddenly struck by his eyes.

Blue. Water. Cool. Healing. Wonderful.

Zuko suddenly felt the need to study Sokka’s eyes forever, to never tear his gaze away. Sokka let him for a moment, like he understood Zuko’s need. And then the moment passed, with Sokka shaking off whatever had come over him and exiting the room.

Zuko didn’t move, though, staring after him for a while longer. A new heat had begun somewhere in his body, but it wasn’t anger. It was… contained. Almost hungry. He wished he knew what it meant.

Two new emotions in one day had to be some kind of record.

///

Sokka looked… younger when he slept, somehow. Like one of the tired kids they all were instead of a general orchestrating a covert rescue mission into the depths of the Fire Nation’s most heavily guarded prison.

Zuko watched him for a few moments before training his eyes back on the landscape around them.

Don’t be creepy, he scolded himself. Sokka wasn’t his to look at like that.

Instead, he thought back to what Sokka had said before they left.

“I have to regain my honor.”

Zuko shivered a little at the memory, so similar to his own favored mantra and yet, somehow so different. Zuko’s had been selfish. He’d wanted to save himself; Sokka just wanted to save his father. And Zuko was fairly certain Sokka wouldn’t mind staying behind in the prison forever if it meant ensuring his father’s freedom.

The Water Tribe boy didn’t need to regain any honor; he had more in every bone of his body than Zuko ever would.

Maybe that’s why Zuko was so drawn to him.

///

Oddly enough, the version of Sokka dominating Zuko’s mind that night wasn’t the one splayed out with a rose in his mouth.

Although he was thinking about it. Maybe a little too much.

But the Sokka that he’d been shown after had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed until Zuko thought it might burst.

Vulnerability. Sokka had shown him vulnerability.

He thought about the way Sokka’s voice changed when he talked about his mother’s murder. Beneath the jokes and the sarcasm, Sokka was quietly patching over the part of himself that he’d lost - same as Zuko.

Zuko wished suddenly that he’d told him about losing his mother, too. Maybe the other boy would’ve confided in him further. Maybe it would’ve been Zuko that Sokka would set up candles for by moonlight and looked forward to -

Stop!

That feeling was back. Zuko shook his head and limbs, trying to scare it away. He had to stop this obsession. It was eating away at him, leaving him exposed.

After the war is over, this will end, he told himself. You’re just bored. Nervous. It won’t be like this forever.

By the end of the night, watching Suki sneak away from Sokka’s tent in the early morning light, he’d almost convinced himself that was true.

///

Fire Lord Zuko.

The title still sounded so foreign and unwieldy. Like it didn’t quite belong to him.

“Congratulations, Your Zukoness,” came a voice.

Zuko turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Sokka, how did you get in here? I thought -”

“Eh, Toph is distracting the guards.” Sokka shook his head. “You really should get some better security, I mean. A couple of rocks and -”

“Sokka!”

Sokka smiled, resting his weight on the crutch he was using. Zuko was instinctively aware of the bandages wrapped around his own torso beneath the heavy new robes.

They all bore scars of the recent battle; peace had come at a cost.

“I came to wish you luck in person,” Sokka continued, less joking and more genuine now. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Aren’t you coming to have some tea with Uncle tonight?” Zuko furrowed his brow. Was Sokka leaving? Was this goodbye?

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved his hand. “But everyone is gonna be there. I wanted to tell you in private, I guess.”

In private.

Zuko hoped his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Even after Sokka left to join his father and Katara outside at the reception, he found himself smiling… just a little.

Sokka had that effect on people.

///

Time was a finicky thing, Zuko was realizing.

One moment, they were children, and the next, they… weren’t. Or maybe they’d never been children at all, too burdened with adult worries and fears their whole lives. Most of them had lost people at a young age, forced to grow up far too quickly.

Aang had lost his entire culture.

Zuko had lost his mother.

Katara and Sokka had lost their mother, too. And now their father.

Chief Hakoda had passed peacefully in his sleep, Zuko had been told. Even after the tenuous usurpation attempt by Gilak, Hakoda’s time at the helm of the Southern Water Tribe could hardly be called blemished. His strength and rationality had brought them to new levels of international recognition and power.

He had been one of the most influential chiefs in Water Tribe history.

Zuko hadn’t been able to make it to Hakoda’s memorial - unable to get out of several Fire Nation industrialization meetings - but he had managed to make it to the South to see Sokka become the next Chief.

“You made it,” Sokka said after the short ceremony. “I wasn’t sure you would.” His voice was heavy - lacking its usual bravado.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zuko laid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, walking with him across the frozen landscape - away from everyone else. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

Sokka’s eyes turned glassy, and he looked away - unable to speak.

“He was a good man,” Zuko continued. “And he would be proud of you. I know it.”

Without warning, Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, burying his head in his shoulder. Surprised, Zuko stayed frozen, wishing he could do more to comfort the strongest man he knew.

“You’re going to make a great chief,” he said quietly.

When Sokka lifted his head, his face was inches away from Zuko’s - closer than the two of them had been in a long time. Zuko almost leaned forward, almost cut through the last bit of space between them, but before he could, Sokka was moving away.

“Thanks, Zuko.” He straightened his furs. “I should get back to Katara and our people now. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

And then he was gone.

////

Zuko hadn’t stopped pacing all morning.

He’d sent the letter after an agonizing few days of rewriting, second-guessing and re-thinking.

But he’d finally done it. Finally watched the messenger hawk lift into the sky. And now, all that was left to do was wait.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” a guard said, at last, bowing low as he entered the room. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is here to see you.”

Zuko took a deep breath, straightening his topknot. “Send him in.”

Sokka burst through the doors, trailed by a couple Water Tribesmen. “I got your message,” he called before he’d even reached Zuko’s side of the room. “What’s the big emergency? Where’s the threat?”

Sokka looked strong - a powerful and more confident version of himself. Being the leader of the Southern Water Tribe had been good for him.

Zuko glanced at the entourage Sokka had brought and winced. He needed to speak with him privately.

“Give me a moment alone with your Chief,” he said to the others. Glancing at his own attendants, he waved for them to be dismissed, too. He wanted the throne room to be perfectly and totally empty.

“What’s this about?” Sokka looked around, seemingly unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you. About a partnership between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a partnership?”

Zuko swallowed hard. “The kind where their Chief and Fire Lord are… together.”

“Okay, okay.” The true meaning of Zuko’s words clearly hadn’t registered with Sokka, who began to tap his chin. “We team up, you’re saying? Form a political alliance? Hold on, hold on - don’t we already kind of have one? Isn’t that what my Dad was trying to -” And then he broke off, eyes narrowing. “Wait, together? Like… as a couple?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that -”

“I didn’t say it! You did!”

Sensing Sokka’s imminent rejection, Zuko tried to save the situation. “I didn’t - look, it’s not like that, I just meant -”

“You made this whole emergency up, didn’t you?” Sokka shook his head. “Just to get me here! That’s -”

Zuko cringed, waiting.

“Kinda genius,” Sokka finished, nodding. “Somewhat evil. But genius.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Zuko sighed. “I think. It’s confusing. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I had -” His eyes widened for a moment as Sokka’s lips landed on his before they fluttered shut.

When they broke apart, Sokka seemed surprised at his own actions. “Is randomly kissing the Fire Lord grounds for arrest here?”

The idea made Zuko laugh. “Not if the Fire Lord wanted it to happen.”

Sokka grinned, and then paused. “You - you did want it to happen, right?”

“Yeah.” Zuko leaned forward to kiss him again. “For longer than you could possibly imagine.”

Finally, Zuko thought, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He understood what that feeling was now, the one he’d been so confused about that day at the temple and every day after that.

Love.

He loved Sokka, so full of honor and eyes bluer than water.

And he probably always would.

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#zukka #zuko x sokka #zuko #sokka #atla #zukka angst #fire lord zuko #zukka fic #writing commissions #my writing #commission me #avatar the last airbender #angst with a happy ending #valentines day #mlm #writeres on tumblr

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dl-oblivion · 4 years

Note

Headcanons or reaction if you want of the sakamakis with a crush that ignores them a Lot

These were kind of all over the place aaa

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️

Shu:

- Honestly, the man would just give up. If his crush isn’t interested why bother? He can just find someone else. (Playing hard to get doesn’t work on someone who plays hard to get himself.)

- Unless he was super interested in someone, Shu would not go out of his way to put in much effort. Most of his “crushes” tend to be superficial anyways, since he doesn’t like interacting with people very much.

- If he was actually interested in someone for more than their looks, he’d lure them to a private place, and tease them a lot. Just a ton of contact flirting and possible biting. He’d want to break that tough persona, before he got closer.

Reiji:

- He’d take this as extremely rude, and offensive. If his crush wasn’t interested, the least they could do is properly address him. That’s what a person with manners would do.

- The vampire would more than likely lure his crush into a trap and assess dominance through either his intelligence or strength. If he didn’t let his emotions or pride get the better of him, he’d attempt to confront them calmly.

- Reiji might lose interest if this continues or just become more invested. (Like how he used to try his hardest to impress his mother, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him all that much.) His more obsessive side and childhood trauma would really shine through.

Ayato:

- How could you ignore the great ore-sama??? He literally can’t compute how someone he likes might not be interested in him. Bro how could you not want his shitty attitude and egotistic personality???

- He’d do the absolute MOST. Showing off around his crush all the time and cornering them wherever they turn. Ayato would most definitely try to drink from them right away and sexually harass them.

- If showing off his amazing basketball skills and being a class clown doesn’t work, he’ll just give up. Oops I mean he’ll TRY to give up. Once he sets his eye on something/someone, he can’t stop thinking about them.

Laito:

- All of his crushes are purely superficial, so he wouldn’t take things as seriously, more like a game. He’d constantly do perverted things to/around his crush to get a reaction out of them. He loves seeing them turn red after putting on a blank face for so long.

- If they just continued to ignore his efforts, he’d step it up a notch, and fuck with their head. Ie making out/groping their best friend in front of them.

- If his crush STILL acts unbothered after everything he’s done, he might take a step back and reassess himself, or do even worse things. It’s a game to him yeah, but not one that he wishes to lose.

Kanato:

- His crush can’t ignore him, it’s literally impossible. Kanato would go absolutely ballistic the first time they’d try to do it. Throwing a tantrum, and probably pinning them down so he can hurt them.

- The vampire was neglected a ton as a child which makes him always want to be the center of attention by the person he’s fixated on. He needs constant reassurance and recognition.

- If his crush didn’t learn the first time, he’d just straight up kill them out of frustration. Similarly to Reiji, he’d be really offended. He “loves” you and all you can do is ignore him?

Subaru:

- His reactions would vary depending on how he’s feeling that day. If he’s feeling sadistic, he’d probably corner them and suck their blood. Telling them that their his prey now and can’t ignore him.

- If Subaru was feeling relatively depressed that day he’d be embarrassed, and frustrated, but ultimately think this was for the best. Avoiding them every-time their in his vicinity, trying his best to get over the rejection. (Ignoring him = complete rejection in his eyes.)

- If his crush continued to ignore him after he declared them his prey, oh boy. Lots of bruises from slamming against walls and dragging them by the wrist. He’ll just make things physically harder for them until they submit to him.

#diabolik lovers #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #shu sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #sakamaki family #reactions #dialovers

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sirowsky · 3 years

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The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, buried trauma, mentions of tortured and murdered children, furious Marcus.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: We learn a bit more history on the Heroics as a whole, and something Reader’s been supressing, that leads to some new developments concerning her powers.

(Again I apologise for the crossover GIF, but really Narcos just has the best ones. Also, let me know if it’s yours and I’ll credit you!)

Chapter 39

Wisconsin was getting cold this time of year, and you were frustrated. Verity had really outdone himself this time. He’d positioned himself right smack in the middle of suburbia, on Barbara Lane, in De Pere, Green bay, forcing you to take twice as many safety precautions as usual, before you could see him.

You’d asked Marcus after the first time you’d met the truth-seeker, if it wouldn’t be less dangerous and more inconspicuous for him to come to you, instead of you having to travel all over the country to find him. But Marcus had explained that he had adapted a lifestyle that meant that he was never in one place for more than two days, in order to stay ahead of any team that HQ might send out to investigate his energy-signature.

He rarely used his ability to the extent that the new and more powerful sensors could detect it, but on the few occasions when he had, he’d found himself having company some time later. Their response time varied depending on where in the country he was, and whenever he was closer to the west coast, his temporary lodgings were always significantly shorter.

Allen had been quiet for most of the journey, deep in his thoughts, but when you started getting close to your destination, the old man started talking.

“I built most of HQ, you know. The Heroic organisation.”

“Yeah, you were one of the founders, right? One of the first non-powered people to suggest that supers might need help to become actual heroes. You got them to talk to one another, start building relationships, creating the friendships that would ultimately turn them into a team.”

“It was almost impossible to get those knuckleheads to coincide. There were only four of them back then, and they all wanted the glory and heroism to themselves, fighting for the spotlight every chance they got. We really thought our efforts weren’t gonna do anything.”

“What changed it around?”

“Anita Moreno.”

“Hah… of course she did.”

“When she came along, young and determined and confident, she elbowed out their failing attempts at leadership by actually taking charge, and making them listen to reason. By way of a beat-down if necessary.”

“That, I can believe. And I’d have loved to see it.”

“She was fearless of their powers and their masculinity, their macho-bullshit. And before long, she had them training to improve their skillsets, studying the politics of the world, saying that if they were gonna insist on meddling in other cultures, then it was also their responsibility to understand what the hell they were meddling with.”

“And that’s where you took the opportunity, I’m guessing?”

“I reached out to Anita, offering financial support in creating a training-facility for the supers, a kind of recreational area, where they could play with their abilities, test themselves against each other, without risking harm to anyone. She really liked the idea, and asked me to find out if anyone else would be interested in helping them, and over time, that’s how the Heroics were born.”

“And now it’s been tainted.”

“I don’t know that it hasn’t been completely destroyed already.”

“Henry, the organisation can never be destroyed, not as long someone’s around to fight back. And you’d better believe we are.”

“What have you brought me today, Rainbow?”

A little while later, you finally stepped into the house, and Verity’s energy hit you. Since he knew you couldn’t use your power to greet him anymore, he called to you from the kitchen and you guided Allen there.

The poor man was already pale.

“Someone I really hope you’re about to tell me I can trust.”

“A founder… this is a first. Your heart is filled with love, for your family, mostly, but that also makes you susceptible to great fear. Right now, you fear what will be left of your legacy once this mess is made public. You fear that the Heroics will be shut down, and that your life’s work will go down in history as nothing but a failed experiment. You love your creation, it gives you great pride, but you fear it too. The power it’s accumulated, and how the politics have gotten more and more in control of it. But you are innocent of any crime or conspiracy. You are, at heart, a good man.”

Allen looked like he might vomit, so you helped him to sit down and brought him a glass of water.

“Who are you?”

Verity never answered that question, no matter who was asking, so you sat down next to Henry to explain.

“He’s a very special super, that you can never mention to anyone. If you do, he’ll disappear, and we’ll have no way of knowing who’s trustworthy or not.”

“He can tell the truth? I never even spoke…”

“Verity sees the truth, like a web around people. I don’t know exactly how it works, but he can see everything, past and present. Every lie and every truth of your entire existence.”

“Incredible. And really unnerving.”

“Yes, but worth it. Thanks to him we have over 120 trusted operatives working for us all over the world, and that’s not including the Heroics.”

“That’s… impressive. But I fear this enemy is going to need much greater numbers than that, to be defeated.”

“Maybe. But 89 of those operatives are supers, and that evens the odds significantly.”

“What? But… we scan for people with abilities all over the world, we would know if that many existed.”

“Not if they’d been hiding their powers. We figured that anyone who was on the Heroics radar, would most likely be on SIC’s as well, so we focused entirely on reaching out to those that we knew were hidden. And in that process, we uncovered a whole community of powered people that want nothing to do with the fame or recognition, and once they understood the stakes, they all agreed to help us. And they, in turn, are reaching out to their friends, normal and super, to join the fight. Our numbers grow every day, Henry. We can beat these assholes; we just need a little more time.”

Verity’s energy focusing on you, broke your concentration, and you turned to look at him.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. Something… something in your memories.”

“If it’s my memory then why can’t you see it clearly?”

“It’s been hidden. It’s a memory you can’t see yourself.”

Your skin crawled and your heartbeat picked up, in an involuntary response to any kind of mention of your time with the mad doctor. Verity noticed.

“A painful memory. Something you don’t want to remember.”

“I don’t want to remember any of it, V.”

“Tubes, wires, machines, syringes. Your body remembers. Your cells do.”

“Pain… so much pain, your nerves remember all of it. You fought him. You bit him twice, escaped your bindings once, almost got out. He punished you for that by pouring battery-acid on your feet. He was so confident that his experiment would work that he didn’t care how much damage he caused you in the process.”

Lost in his search into your mind, Verity slowly started moving towards you, centring all his power on you, desperate to uncover everything that was hidden. You weren’t sure if he was even aware of how overbearing he was in that moment. How threatening.

He had never come across a truth he couldn’t see before, and it made him obsessive and ruthless in his pursuit of it. A part of you knew that, but your reptile brain was overcome with a sense of danger, and you backed away from him, but he followed you.

“V… please, stop.”

He didn’t even hear you.

“You’re hiding from me. I can feel the memory so clearly, wrapped in a bubble I can’t penetrate. I need to know what it is.”

He was pushing so much of his energy into your mind to try and break that bubble, that you started feeling unnaturally heavy. Your body suddenly felt like it was moving through liquid, meeting so much resistance that it exhausted you just to take a single step.

You collapsed to the floor, struggling to breathe, and still he didn’t let up. He towered over you, and somewhere in the background you heard Allen trying to reason with him, but then a splitting pain shot through your head, and you passed out.

“You stay the fuck away from me, V!”

You woke up lying on the sofa in the living room, your head still throbbing and the light burning your eyes. But from what little you could make out, Verity was sitting on a chair right next to you, and it made the bear inside you wake up with full force.

You launched yourself at him, placing a hard fist at his solar plexus, and when he involuntarily crunched forwards, his face had a very abrupt meeting with your elbow.

He fell backwards, toppling the chair over and breaking it as he hit the floor, bleeding from his nose and cheek-bone.

Allen rushed into the room from the kitchen, holding a pack of ice he’d apparently been getting for you. You wobbled over to him and swiped it from his hands to put against your right temple, while Verity slowly got to his knees.

“I saw it. The memory you were hiding, I was able to break your defence the moment before you lost consciousness.”

“I don’t care.”

“He did it in front of you. He strapped children into that chair, and made you watch as he drained them. He made you watch their strength gradually leave them as the pain got to be too much. You saw the faces of at least nine of them, wordlessly begging you for help.”

“I trapped those memories away for a reason, you asshole. Just because you need the truth like a fucking addict, doesn’t mean I do!”

The images came to you as he voiced them. You remembered those faces, fifteen of them, actually. You remembered their pain, and how much you wished that you could have borne it for them. How gladly you’d have sacrificed yourself for them, if you could have.

That was why your powers had manifested into what they did. That was why you couldn’t heal yourself, because in that time and place, you truly didn’t care if you died.

You slumped against the nearest wall and slowly allowed yourself to sink to the floor. Your head was still throbbing, and you were beyond angry.

“You do need to know this.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! You don’t get to torture me, V, that’s what the fucking bad guys do!!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that is as close to a god damned lie as you’ve ever gotten! You don’t give a shit if your powers hurt me, as long as you get your fucking truth. If you’re sorry about anything, it’s that I’m not grateful for your efforts. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong!”

He didn’t speak. He just sat there, looking as unbothered about everything as he always did.

“Allen, get me the hell out of here.”

“Hermosa? What’s wrong?”

You took a cab from the airport, and fell asleep about halfway home. The driver had a calm and rhythmic manner that soothed you, and he was listening to John Williams play the Concierto de Aranjuez, with the soft guitar notes making your frayed mind drift away to a warm and sunny Spain.

He woke you by gently announcing that you’d arrived at your destination, and you paid him and thanked him for his kindness, before getting out and walking towards the gate in the fence. Your legs felt like lead.

You could hear Marcus and Missy through the front door as you approached it, ingulfed in playing some boardgame, and you stopped and just listened to them for a while, leaning heavily against the door.

Your darling Missy, the same age as several of those children. But alive and happy and such a wonderful person already.

And Marcus. Your reason for living. The one that saved you, and kept saving you, despite the darkness that accompanied you.

You hadn’t kept your word about checking in with him, so when you texted him while you were waiting at the airport in Green Bay, he’d been furious at first, wanting to know why he hadn’t heard from you in almost five hours. But he’d quickly calmed as you’d simply reminded him that since he was hearing from you now, you were obviously okay, and you’d tell him everything when you saw him.

But now, standing behind that door, you didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t want to burden him with knowing it. But you also knew that he’d see it on your face the moment you walked in. You were too tired and in too much pain still, to even try and keep up any appearances.

You took a breath, and walked inside. Marcus was on his feet the moment the door swung open, and he swept you into a tight hug as soon as he got to you, but the mildness of your response immediately had him worried.

“Could you just keep your voice down a bit, please. My head’s killing me.”

“Where you in a fight?”

He looked closer at you upon hearing that, and he realised that you were actually in terrible shape. He swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, while asking Missy to come and help him prepare a bath for you.

She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the taps, and you could hear her going into the cabinets to pull out fresh towels.

In the meantime, Marcus was helping you out of your clothes, and noticed a big black bruise on your elbow.

“No… just felt cornered.”

“By who?”

“...Verity.”

His whole posture changed, and you could feel a sudden rage emanating from him.

“Tell me what he did.”

“I’m too tired right now…”

“Querida, look at me. Tell me.”

“He… broke into the memories I’d hidden… the one’s he couldn’t see before.”

“The one’s Prince had altered?”

“No… the one’s I buried. The one’s that were too horrible… He forced them out, and now my head feels like it’s breaking apart.”

“Why would he hurt you like that?”

He picked you up again and moved you into the bathroom. Missy only stayed until the tub was full and she could close the taps, and then she hugged you gently and slipped out of the room.

Marcus took the last of your clothes off before lowering you into the warm water, and when you asked him to join you, he did, holding you close and softly stroking your skin under the water.

“He can’t stand lies, and apparently that applies to secrets as well. He just had to know; consequences be damned.”

“He’ll regret that tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother. He won’t admit to any wrong-doing. And we still need him.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The only reason I agreed to let you go was because I thought you’d be safe with him.”

“I don’t have anymore secrets for him to try and uncover now. So, technically I will be, from now on. Not that I ever wanna see him again.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll deal with him.”

“We’re still at war, honey. We’re gonna have to do a lot of things we’d rather not.”

“Fuck the war, I’ll turn my back on the whole damned thing and take you to live with the fucking penguins if that’s what it takes. I’m so tired of seeing you in pain!”

“Oh, please, keep your voice down…”

“Sorry.”

You sat in silence for a while, as the warm water started to open up your capillaries, easing your headache a bit.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

You knew what he was asking, and you really wanted to say no, but you also knew that you needed to tell him.

“Prince made me… he made me watch.”

The tears burned in your eyes, and you tried to chase the memories away, to lock them back into that little bubble where they couldn’t hurt you. But it was too late.

“Watch what?”

You didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt as though that would somehow solidify the images into reality, making them truly inescapable. He could feel your resistance, and tried to soothe you with his current, but it wasn’t enough this time.

“The… ch-children. He made me… watch them die.”

“Oh, my god…”

The next morning you felt better. The headache had eased with some real sleep and you were starting to feel human again. Marcus was right next to you, his arms securely wrapped around you while he slept, but he stirred the moment you did. It was still early enough that your monday alarms hadn’t gone off yet.

You felt him swallow repeatedly against the bile and grief that surged up in his throat as he realised what you were saying. He’d seen the lab. The extraction chair. And the freshest bodies that Prince hadn’t had time to get rid off before they found his lair. He’d seen how much pain they’d been in as they died, evident in their faces even after death.

He didn’t say anything else, and you didn’t need him to, you just needed him to hold you, and he did.

“Good morning, hermosa. Did you sleep okay?”

“Morning. Yeah, actually I did.”

“No bad dreams?”

“I think my headache might have made that impossible. It’s gone now, though.”

“Good. How do you feel about breakfast?”

“I’m looking forward to it. I still haven’t eaten in our kitchen yet.”

“Right. Eggs and toast?”

“Please.”

You went about your morning toilet and wash, before heading out to the kitchen together. Missy was already at the island, having cereal and flipping through a schoolbook, and since Marcus was already pulling out the frying pan to get started on the eggs, you sat down with her, before the school bus would get there.

“Morning, angel. Test today?”

“Yup. Maths. I got it, though.”

“Oh, I believe that, you’re good at maths. Break a leg anyway.”

“Thanks, alma. I’m aiming for top scores.”

“I like your aim.”

“Don’t worry, preciosa, her protection is in place.”

Marcus had just sat down a plate in front of you when the bus honked, and Missy ran out the door while shouting she loved both of you.

You kept staring at the closed door after she’d disappeared through it, and Marcus knew what you were thinking.

“I know, but after yesterday… I just feel a bit more protective than usual.”

“That’s entirely understandable, but please try not to stress over it. You have another one to protect as well.”

“Right… Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, just breathe and eat calmly.”

“So, Allen got the all clear, I assume. Does that mean he’s in?”

You dug into the food and it was delicious. So much better than the airport food you’d eaten all day yesterday, even though it was just scrambled eggs and perfectly roasted toast, with those tomatoes on the side, that he’d promised you the day before.

Marcus let you finish before he started talking again.

“Yeah, he’s gonna coordinate for us at HQ, so we can keep our attention on the rest of the country, and world.”

“Is he okay?”

“Shaken, for numerous reasons, but determined to get his lives work back in order. He told me about the early days, and how he and your mom whipped the first supers into heroes.”

“Really? Mom doesn’t talk about those days much. She’s told me a lot about my father, but not that much about herself.”

“Well, she seems to have been a tour de force all her life, from what Allen described. And after what you’ve told me about your dad, I can see why he would’ve fallen for her. They were a good match.”

“She always says that the best thing about him was how good he was at driving her up the walls, because it forced her to really look at him.”

“I see what she means.”

“I don’t drive you up the walls. Do I?”

“Mostly just in the mornings, when you know I’m not susceptible to ‘fun’, but other than that, you’re pretty well behaved.”

“Oh, no, the mornings don’t count.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because your morning mood is way too amusing not to take advantage of.”

“Hey! That is so not fair, I can’t help it that my brain just won’t start on all cylinders at once. And, for the record, this is the second morning in a row that I haven’t been cranky first thing.”

His whole face lit up in a dazzling smile at that.

“Wow. That’s more than just a record, babe, that’s almost worthy of a mention on CNN.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! How could you do that to her?! I have always been your friend, protected you, guided you, helped you any way I could… and you almost kill my wife!!”

A voice came from the living room, and with the way the house was designed, about half of that space was visible from the kitchen, while the other half was hidden behind the dining room.

He didn’t need to step into view from behind the wall that separated the two areas, for either of you to know who it was. The truth-seeker had a very recognisable tone and rhythm of speech. But when he did appear, you couldn’t help yourself from getting out of your chair and taking a few steps back towards the kitchen counter, needing as much space between you as possible.

Marcus, on the other hand, turned positively feral. He rushed Verity and wrestled him to the floor, while screaming at him.

“I would never have let her come to any harm.”

You’d never seen him angry like this. Usually he internalised it, afraid to let it loose because of what his powers might do, but this was more than anger. He felt betrayed by one of his oldest friends, and it enraged him in a way that didn’t even involve his powers.

He had Verity pinned on the floor and was sitting on top of him with his hands around his neck, every muscle in his body was tensed to the breaking-point and there where visible veins pulsing in his face, neck and arms.

“Are you seriously fucking lying to me right now?! You did harm her, you ignorant piece of shit! Just because she’s the strongest fucking person you’ve ever met, doesn’t mean you can’t hurt her! She could barely even walk!”

“But she’s not damaged. Her mind is intact.”

“I don’t believe this…I don’t fucking believe it!”

He got off of Verity and dragged him up to standing before shoving him down on the nearest chair, still keeping himself in between you and the trespasser. He paced in front of him while he continued to rail at him.

“Are you seriously telling me, that you don’t know the difference between physically harming someone, and hurting them? How is that even possible, with all the crap you went through as a kid? How do you not know the difference?!”

“It was a memory. Hiding them away only ever hurts you, I was trying to help her.”

“Did you see the fucking memory?!”

“Yes.”

“Tell me exactly how seeing those faces for the rest of her life is gonna help her!”

“It already has.”

His eyes shifted to yours, and you instinctively tried to back away further.

“That memory has already made you understand why you have the powers you do.”

His energy flowed through you, and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes in a useless attempt to keep him out, but you felt him explore your mind again, bringing those images to the forefront of your thoughts.

“Seeing their suffering solidified everything that you are. Through all his torture and experiments, all you wanted was to live. But for them… you wanted to die. You wanted to exchange your life for theirs. That’s your true strength – your armour and your weapon. Look at their faces, Rain. See them and know who you are.”

“You think that just because you know the truth, you understand everything? Do you think you know how this feels? Do you think you have any idea how much this hurts me? Do you not even see how you’re manipulating me?”

Your blood suddenly boiled with fury. Who was he to command your thoughts? To impose his perspective on you? This man that had hurt you so badly, only to uncover a truth he had no right to.

The entire house shook as your powers awoke with a vengeance. You snapped your eyes back open just as Marcus turned back to look at you, realising what was happening.

But you loved this house, you weren’t gonna put a single fucking dent on it.

Reaching into that special place inside of you, where you’d learned you could find that sparkling dust, you drew it out and gathered it in large quantities on the floor in front of Verity. Then you allowed your mind to fill with the images of those innocent children, in their dying moments, and transferred those images into the dust.

Fifteen lifelike sculptures appeared in the sparkles, perfect re-creations of the dead and long forgotten sacrifices, that Verity had never met, never known, and yet felt he had the right to use like string-puppets.

He had the audacity to smile at your creations.

His smile faded as you spoke, but he made no attempt to apologise.

“You’re using my pain to force my hand. You know that my powers hurt me, and you force me to use them anyway. And for what? To try and prove you were right?”

“No. If anything, my efforts should tell you exactly how much we need your powers in this war. You asked me to help you win it. That’s all I’m doing.”

“And if our baby dies because of it, that’s just another sacrifice for the greater good?!”

The sculptures collapsed into mere piles on the floor, and you glared at him furiously, daring him to answer you.

“I don’t believe your baby will be harmed by your abilities.”

“Your beliefs are of no fucking relevance to me. Tell me if you would care… at all… if another child had to die in order for us to win this war?”

He paused, but not to consider his answer, only how you would react to it.

“No. I wouldn’t care. Wars kill people, of all ages, it doesn’t discriminate. Many more will die before it’s over, and if we’re going to be outraged over each and every one of them, then we won’t have time to fight.”

Marcus closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“That’s not the point, V. The point is that we only win if we still care. If we stop caring about life and suffering, then we might as well join the assholes. Can’t you see that?”

“I haven’t lived like you have, Marcus. Caring has never been a luxury I’ve been able to enjoy. I have nothing. No possessions, no family, one person I would call a friend, and whom, despite my best efforts, I do care about.”

“Then it should matter to you whether or not my family is safe and well.”

“It does, and they are. When I say that I don’t believe that your wife’s powers will harm your child, I’m not just guessing. I can see your powers, Rain, the core of them. And while they do damage you a little bit every time you use them, I don’t believe that that damage actually harms you. I believe it slowly changes you.”

“Changes me… Why? Into what?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, but I don’t think it’s that kind of change. I think it’s simply trying to make you stronger, physically. As in, superhumanly strong. Invincible. And if anyone’s body could – it’d be yours.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys

@blueeyesatnight

@hrk-fic-recs

@strawberryperegrine

@lucrezia-thoughts

@computeringturtle

@sarahjkl82-blog

@giselatropicana

@ayamenimthiriel

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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thepetulantpen · 4 years

Text

(Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s my annual Saimota fic. As usual, keep an eye out for saimota fanart by @fancy-kryptonite)

The anticipation leading up to Valentine’s Day is persistent, all-consuming, and, above all, irrational. It builds and builds past the point of overthinking and well into sleepless nights.

Holidays are always like this- a sort of performance anxiety to be happy, to make a day special. In a sense, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. He knows it can’t possibly be perfect, so he ruins it for himself before he starts.

It reaches a breaking point in the form of him mentally throwing up his hands, tired of debating with himself. There have been enough grand, somewhat ridiculous gestures over the last few years. No one is expecting him to do anything elaborate, least of all Kaito- who Shuichi finds sprawled out on the grass, a pile of books abandoned at his side. Unconcerned with the holiday a few days away.

“I was thinking we could try something normal this year.”

Kaito raises his head, not confused by the non-sequitur, but mildly offended- insofar as any of Kaito’s expressions can be called mild. “I thought our other dates were normal?”

“Simple. I meant simple.” Shuichi can’t help smiling- only Kaito would consider scavenger hunts and secret love letters normal. He sits down beside Kaito, trying not to crush any of the books, borrowed far past their return date. “Easier to plan.”

Kaito looks relieved, and ecstatic- the latter of which is not particularly comforting. “Right, right. I’ve got the perfect thing.”

That’s fast, even for Kaito. Shuichi tries not to let it get to him- he hasn’t thought of anything specific yet. “Well, I figured we could each pick something- you take the morning, and I’ll take the afternoon?” Hopefully, that’ll give him enough time. “If you don’t mind. I mean, I could go first, if you’d rather.”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered.” He pats Shuichi on the back, with his usual lack of awareness of his own strength. “I won’t disappoint you, sidekick.”

I’ve really got to talk him into a new title.

He certainly sounds confident, but Shuichi has never known Kaito to not sound confident. He’d been thinking coffee or movies, but if Kaito has something perfect, then Shuichi has to step up his game. There’s only a day or two left- what could he do in that time?

“Shuichi? Did you hear me?” Kaito leans into his line of sight, waving his hand in front of Shuichi’s face. There’s no telling how long he’s been doing that for. He must take Shuichi’s expression for an apology, as he repeats himself, “I’ll text you the details. It’s a surprise, so don’t try to detect it, alright?”

Oh, good. Another thing for me to obsessively think about it.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Kaito doesn’t look convinced. Shuichi can’t say he is, either.

…

Despite Kaito’s insistence that Shuichi would guess before they got there, the escape room ends up being a pleasant surprise. The waiting room is charming, filled with props to take pictures with and a massive winners board, and the hallway is filled with unassuming doors labeled with puns related to their theme. Their room is, fittingly, made out to be the scene of an old-timey murder- Shuichi and Kaito, wearing the deerstalker hats hung near the door, being the detectives called in to solve it.

It only occurs to Shuichi about halfway through that he’s spending Valentine’s Day rifling through blood-stained documents about a fictional murder while Kaito yells nonsense guesses to word puzzles from across the room. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What if we arranged the dominos in a star shape? Is that anything?”

Shuichi glances up from the nearly illegible pages that have been unceremoniously shifted to his responsibility and finds Kaito juggling a tin of dominos and an armful of paintings that had once been on the walls. Those, at least, were meant to come off.

“Uh,” Shuichi hesitates, caught between about three puzzles at once- one of them being Kaito, in general, “It couldn’t hurt?”

Kaito grins, obviously happy to do something. The paintings are scattered across the table, now crowded with other clues jumbled beyond recognition. From a glance, Shuichi can see that the lines painted on might actually make a star- but he doubts someone’s been assigned to watch the camera and wait for them to artistically arrange the dominos.

Kaito is not stupid. He’s practically an astronaut and, aside from that, he can be brilliant with people, far more insightful than Shuichi. It’s just- he tends to think in the abstract, approaching problems in a way no one else would. Meaning that the people who made these puzzles would never arrive at the solutions Kaito picks out.

It doesn’t help that he refuses to use their hints, under any circumstances. The employee running the room had only egged him on by telling him no one had ever solved it in time without using a hint- Shuichi had accepted their fate, after hearing that.

The intercom clicks on, the false cheer of their game master giving them a five-minute warning. Kaito scoffs, confidence never dulled, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him- his hands, over the dominos, have stopped, apparently realizing it’s not getting him anywhere.

Shuichi had told himself, while they were waiting for the room to reset, that he wouldn’t take over. It’s supposed to be a casual game between the two of them, no pressure to win. Plenty of people fail these things, and they still have fun.

He has a feeling Kaito is not one of those people.

“We still have plenty of time,” Shuichi assures, surprised to sound so confident, “I think the dominos are color-coded. Take these,” he hands off one of the papers, still running through combinations on the others, “and give organizing them a shot.”

Kaito gives him a mock salute, but rises to the task. As predicted, he moves through the dominos quickly- giving Shuichi time to hurriedly unlock the next two safes. He’s had those figured out for a while, having thought he would have more time to guide them to the right answer.

The solutions themselves are not terribly difficult. Nothing like solving crime, in any practical way, but they force him to slow down and connect all the pieces, adding up how every seemingly unrelated item fits together.

“I’ve got it!” Kaito grins, the triumphant click of dominos set in the right position- a key to another code. “What’s next?”

“It corresponds to the filing cabinet,” he’s practically on autopilot as the clock ticks down, the flash of red numbers in his periphery, “I’ll take the desk drawers.”

It puts them shoulder to shoulder, both rapidly setting combinations and trading half-shouted numbers, unnecessary given their closeness. Kaito finishes first, so he gets to watch over Shuichi’s shoulder as he guesses the last clue.

For a second, it looks like he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s failed them both, before the lights flicker dramatically. They all go out, save for a hidden projector that lights up one wall with the image of a wailing ghost- ah, he’d forgotten they were supposed to be avenging some spirit. He’ll admit, he wasn’t listening very closely during the introduction, distracted by Kaito’s grin as he took in the room.

Kaito jumps about a foot in the air- clearly, he hadn’t been paying much attention either. Shuichi takes his arm, hoping to keep him from stepping on any of the discarded paintings.

“The necklace,” Kaito yells over the sound effects, wide eyed, “she wants the necklace!”

On impulse, Shuichi dives for it, digging through the pile they’ve accumulated, and tosses it to Kaito. He doesn’t present it to her so much as he holds it up as if it’s a crucifix he could use to exorcise her. The projection, unlike a real ghost, thankfully doesn’t mind his rudeness.

“I may finally be at peace.”

Figures that Kaito would be the one to bring peace to the ghost. It makes Shuichi smile, even as the lights are turned on abruptly, bringing an anti-climactic end to their adventure. The clock is paused at 17 seconds- not exactly a record to brag about, but he’ll take it.

On their way out, Kaito elbows him to get his attention. “So, how long did you know the answers?”

Shuichi smiles and says, “Not long.” Which, judging from his expression, Kaito translates to “since we got in the room.”

Kaito doesn’t seem bothered, not like Shuichi thought he might be. If anything, he looks delighted.

“We made a fantastic team, as usual. Under my guidance, of course.” He messes up Shuichi’s hair, a habit he didn’t bother kicking once they started dating. “With our smarts combined, we could do anything. You could be the first detective on the moon, you know?”

“I don’t know, maybe my calling is in paranormal investigations,” he teases, pretending not to notice Kaito’s grimace, “we could go on ghost hunts together.”

Kaito scowls, and Shuichi presses on, baiting the hook, “Unless you’re scared?”

“No man, nor beast, has ever bested me.” Kaito’s frown is close to genuine indignation, offended that Shuichi would consider him below ghosts. “Ghosts don’t even have bodies. I’ll take on a ghost, any time, any day.”

Luckily for Kaito, Shuichi thinks it’s unlikely he’ll ever have to deliver on that promise. “We’ll save that for another weekend, then.” He picks up the pace, leading the way, for once. “I’ve got something a little more romantic than a ghost hunt, this time.”

If Kaito looks inordinately relieved, Shuichi is generous enough not to notice.

…

Most people can tell when Shuichi is overthinking something. Most people know that answer is “always”.

Kaito can tell when Shuichi is thinking of overthinking something. The calm before the storm, the buzz of energy that has him tapping his foot incessantly while staring into space. It started well before their date, carrying into the weekend of Valentine’s Day.

It all hits in the form of an over-packed backpack and piles of printed maps, stacked in the backseat. Shuichi has a schedule, complete with an annotated map of their hiking trail and final destination.

“We should make it there just as it gets dark enough to see stars. It’ll be a perfect view.”

The emphasis is obviously placed on perfect, Shuichi’s smile just a bit forced. Kaito gives the map a once-over- credit where credit is due, it looks as close to the perfect spot as you could get- and gives Shuichi a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He may not be a detective, but it’s not hard to figure out that anything Shuichi comes up with will be incredible. It’d be difficult to have a bad time with Shuichi; any time spent with him feels like time well spent. The beautiful hiking trail is only a bonus.

Kaito wouldn’t be surprised if Shuichi’s plans were flawless, every second mapped out. Every funny looking tree, every set of tracks in the ground- all set up for Kaito to notice, or for them to use as landmarks. Shuichi could say he’s set the stars on a timer, and Kaito might just believe him. If anyone could do it, it’d be Shuichi.

The sky, however, seems to have other plans.

The clouds start rolling late in the afternoon and stick around stubbornly after the sun sets, filtering reds and purples through grey film. At certain angles, Kaito can see the moon in their gaps, but there’re hardly any stars persevering through. Dark grey shadows move over what might have otherwise been a fairly bright sky, now dimmed to a heavy static.

It's remarkable in its own right, patterns of grey standing out starkly against the abyss of the night sky. It feels like the clouds are the only thing between them and limitless space, a simple barrier to surpass. Kaito only feels more drawn to it, eager to peel back the layers to see the stars for himself.

“I checked the weather,” Shuichi mutters, miserably, “I had three backups, and I was sure this one would be clear skies. I even looked up the constellations you could see from here-“

“That’s alright.” The grass has started to cool rapidly in the darkness, no springtime warmth remaining to greet them. Kaito lays out his coat to sit on, instead, and leaves Shuichi the more generous half. “It’s a great view, like you said.”

Shuichi squints at him, suspicious. “You can’t see any stars.”

“Stars aren’t the only thing I came here to see.” Kaito puts an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders, pulling against his side. He’s never embarrassed to be close to Shuichi, but he’ll admit he likes it best when it’s just the two of them, no distractions, no threat of self-consciousness. “It’s perfect.”

Shuichi looks down, hiding a smile. “Next you’ll be dropping cheesy lines with star metaphors.”

“There’s nothing wrong with star metaphors!”

He should be offended when Shuichi laughs at that, but he can’t bring himself to pretend. Shuichi’s laugh is reward enough- even if, objectively, star metaphors are among the best romantic gestures.

He’s still got work to do, as Shuichi sits silently beside him, staring at the galaxy print of Kaito’s jacket to avoid looking at the sky. It’s obvious he’s under the impression that he’s failed somehow, which just won’t do. As the hero to his sidekick, it’s Kaito’s responsibility to let him know he’s wrong- just, perhaps, not in those exact words.

Kaito nudges Shuichi and leans forward, craning his neck to get the best view of the clouds above them. “You’re underestimating the sky. Look, there’s always something beautiful to see.”

He points at the formations of clouds, shapes made of negative space against the moonlight. Their tops are highlighted by the escaping light, scattering over the uneven, cottony surface. Shuichi’s head tilts to follow him- it reminds Kaito of the escape room, focus taking over his expression. It’d almost feel out of place here, beneath the clouds with nothing of substance to analyze, if Kaito wasn’t used to seeing it all the time, for anything from figuring out a new coffee machine to spoiling a detective show by guessing the killer early.

“That one looks like a bear,” Kaito takes Shuichi by the shoulders, directing him to the cloud in question, “See? The other clouds are like the salmon it’s chasing.”

Shuichi doesn’t manage to sound very convincing, but he tries his best when he agrees, “I think I see it.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar, Shuichi?”

Shuichi elbows him in retaliation, turning away from the stars to look up at him. He’s going for disapproving, but Kaito can see through him, far easier than seeing through the cloud layer.

Somedays, it’s hard to believe that Shuichi bothers to hang around with him. Kaito considers himself good company, but for Shuichi? He’s not sure he qualifies- and yet here they are, under the stars. Or clouds, as it is.

“One day, I’ll bring you to see the stars up close. We’ll go high above the clouds and into the night sky.” Kaito holds him closer, no longer interested in looking at the sky. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Shuichi leans more into him, pushing for room on Kaito’s jacket. When he smiles this time, he doesn’t hide it. “I’ll have to consider space for next Valentine’s Day.”

He doesn’t sound serious, like he doesn’t completely believe Kaito will be able to pull it off. That’s alright- he has plenty of time to prove him wrong.

Kaito’s not being completely honest, anyway. Space isn’t his ideal Valentine’s Day- and it’s not an escape room, or star-gazing, either. It’s by Shuichi’s side, wherever that might be. If it’s watching reruns of mysteries he’s memorized the solutions to, or teasing him for his choice of black coffee, or just laying on the grass, staring up at the same sky.

The promise of another Valentine’s with Shuichi makes it all worth it. Kaito doesn’t need much else- though, he’s still looking forward to sweeping the clearance section of chocolates.

#Valentine’s Day #saimota #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #danganronpa v3 #pseudo-sequel to my other saimota fics #this is very rough but ill probably do another round of edits before i post on ao3 in a few days

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years

Text

WWR

this may be my latest one (aside from those that never saw the light of day), but sorry life calls sometimes. enjoy the rollercoaster of emotions at the end 😘

Oh Carl, poor Carl. How on earth is he going to survive with Nick? 🤣 Honestly though, Jack so sneaky with her therapy despite being halfway across the globe. I love McGee’s “obviously she thinks you need it Nick” because HAHA nail on the head right there Timmy, he definitely needs it. Needs it to prove to himself a living thing can depend on him and he won’t let it down.

They clearly still don’t believe in personal space, Nick does NOT need to get that close to look at a simple picture of a body on the camera 👀 broooo you so hooked on her she’s like a magnet pulling you in. Alsooooo them both officially switching to first names even in the field is so key. They might not even realize they’re doing it but at the same time they’re so (relatively) comfortable in their feelings of each other that they’ll say it in front of everyone, no qualms about it. I will also never get tired of hearing Nick call her Ellie. For someone so closed off initially, to now have slowly grown to call her on a first name basis when not a single other soul (sans Toby apparently) gets that sort of treatment 🥺😍 Plus he’s teasing her about food just slightly and it’s like old times again. Ellie getting back into her foodie status is perfect, thank you NCIS for finally giving us that.

Were back to Carl and I’m chuckling at Nick’s worry for killing it. That is all, it’s hilarious like Gibb’s creepy laugh.

Ok and now it’s Nick almost making fun of Ellie again, just barely and then he just…listens to her 😩 he just says, oh shit she’s really into this and borderline obsessed and I think that’s actually really f-ing adorable so let me just quietly take this all in because I can’t get enough of this woman and when she’s excitedly rambling about something I’m just going to soak it in because she doesn’t do this often so instead of teasing let me just look, listen and smile like the idiot in love that I am. He’s even kind of holding back a smile when she corrects herself about Kosmic vs Killer Korn. Like goddamn this woman does things to my insides even when she’s just talking about corn and poking me with her finger. Also we’re back to Nick taking a step back and letting Ellie take lead with questioning the food truck people- I love that he respects her so hard that he’ll follow her lead and knows she is a BA with this stuff.

Some more cute partner stuff as per usual, and I’m sorry Nick do you not have your own computer and desk??? I mean, I don’t mind and I know Ellie doesn’t either but Gould you BE more obvious??? Plus he just nods along when she’s talking because his woman knows what is up y’all and you should listen and bow down.

Nick calling Fornell, Toby is hilarious to me- such growth. “Emily is finally squared away” FUCK YOU NCIS. FUCK YOU. THE MOST POINTLESS LAZY STORYLINE EVER OKAY. AND I REFUSE TO DIVULGE THIS SHIT MORE BECAUSE IT PISSES ME OFF TOO MUCH. IF THEY DON’T HAVE THIS AS A LARGER PLOTLINE I WILL BE RIOTING. And yes I knew something major was going to happen but good lord that was so unnecessary. I digress. Ellie pondering out loud about Gibbs’ sad personal life and Nick and McGee’s reactions had be ugly cackling. Like dyyyyyyyying. I can’t with her 🤣🤣🤣 she saying what’s everyone is thinking. Nick giving her a little grief is also so perfect for them “yeah you DID say that out loud.”

Ok now to my favorite part, Nick once again following Ellie’s lead and being initially like oh you writing an article ok we’re going with that ok cool. And then Ellie says hold my earrings we getting crazy but at the same time this is rolling off my tongue like I’ve said it a million times and doodled it in cursive in my diary, my HUSBAND and I can help so like you know let us on your truck mister we’re vaccinated anyways. AND NICK I MEAN HIS FACE. The initial surprise of oh no did she *actually* just say that??? Did she??? why yes she did and I’m sorry why do I like the sound of it so much??? What is this bubbling feeling inside my chest of oh damn I would very much like to be her husband and have her babies and have her announce to random strangers on the street that I am hers??? Is this normal? Do I need to call a medic?? Can she say that again is there a reason she would need to? Prove our cover one more time baby, give me a quick kiss, serious it’s for the good of the case. But ok fine no kiss but yeah I’ll roll with this and call you smoothly with your first name and just play into it. I love them both so much in this whole moment. I love them undercover together and just being all cutesy and Ellie’s deepest desires coming out while she’s just you know, investigating the case.

Ok I am going to completely ignore the reason we are somber in this bullpen in fear of losing my shit again (see above) but we’ll break down the ellick part of it. Nick near her desk because he needs to be by her side even if it’s just her proximity 🥺 And then he takes a long look at Carl before looking at Ellie and man that is poignant even if it seems like just a fish. This living being that he’s been so stressed about keeping alive, realizing he HAS kept it alive. Realizing that he CAN be a person that someone (or a fish) depends on. Realizing he is built for long-term, he is built for the interdependency of a serious relationship. And looking up to Ellie and seeing that need for comfort, for strength, for a person to depend on. He knows her own strength and independence, knows yeah- she could do it on her own if she had to. But he also acknowledges he can be there to help her, he won’t break and he won’t let her down- just like he hasn’t let Carl down. So what does he do? He takes the corn he’d most definitely picked up *before* the news of Emily’s death (and oh good lord is that not the cutest fucking thing? He’d listened to her gush and obsess over Kosmic Korn (and yes if you freeze frame, he got her favorite because he’s observant) and he said, let me take notes, let me get my wife I mean girlfriend I mean partner some corn because it makes her happy, and if I can do even the smallest thing to make her smile goddamnit imma do it. I’m going to show her that any little teasing I give her is for show and I listen and I love this woman enough to go back to Kosmic Korn BY MYSELF—willingly Nick Torres will go back to a food truck—and get this lady some damn corn). But yes he got this before Emily’s death and now not only is it just to make her smile, but it’s a shred of “I hope I can bring you some comfort because otherwise I’m not sure how even though I desperately want to give you comfort.” And Ellie, the small smile of recognition at what Nick did is so sweet. And it morphs into a hesitant, yes corn is great but I really need to feel you, I need to touch you and know you’re still here. Feel you in my arms, feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe me in and I breathe you in. Feel you being alive after all we and this team have been through. McGee might go hug his kids but god I need to hug you Nick. I need to nestle my head even closer to get as physically close to you as possible, feel every inch of your warmth while I wrap my head around how short life truly is. And Nick looking down and stutter slightly at the overwhelming emotion he feels having her in his arms. The peace it brings him and the peace it brings her all-consuming. The realization this is where he was always meant to be and the same to her. How even in a somber moment he’s grateful to be her strength and yet he knows she’s also his strength. That hand that didn’t need to but came up all the same to cradle her head and stroke her hair- holding her head right at his heart. His heart that’s inevitably thumping in his chest for all the right reasons. Pressing her into him, doing everything he can to keep her from shying away and retreating behind those walls they both have. Wrapping his other hand around her upper back, shielding her from the hurt that is the world the best he can. If she never leaves his heart, she can’t be hurt. And he can’t lose her. He’d do anything to never leave that spot, that embrace he so desperately craves and needs. The grounding embrace of finally being in one another’s arms for more than a brief adrenaline-induced second. Neither wanting it to end, and yet knowing it will have to. And honestly I can only picture Nick’s hand still gently brushing her hair as Ellie leans back ever so slightly to look up at him, his warmth still radiating over her as he looks down. Wordlessly they both collect their things to go, never wanting a sound to break that moment. Hands maybe even brushing as they enter the elevator- the unspoken shift between them refusing to be broken if words aren’t muttered. They’re still locked in that embrace if the world stays silent. And that last look of longing at car doors, knowing the moment they step in and drive away it does have to sever- the shift is there but the embrace is split. Both swirling with thoughts as they drive their separate ways home as to where to go next…

Aaaaand then cue a Gibbs-centric episode with trash references to how vets do their job, I’m not bitter. She says as she ruins a sweet emo moment at the end of the wwr with her bitterness 🙄 ANYWAYS I’m gonna leave it with no side notes because honestly I don’t remember any and also it is literally the day of the next episode I’m so terrible at getting this done how do y’all keep waiting for me & reading this trash 😅❤️

#ellick #ncis #torres x bishop #wwr #18x09

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hamiltonlindley · 4 years

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Building a Resilient Team

Resilience is a shield protecting us from perpetual change, persistent stress, and constant pressures—it leverages our most challenging situations towards our growth. The story of the donkey and the farmer illustrates the power of resilience.

One afternoon, a farmer’s donkey fell into a pit. The creature bellowed for hours as the farmer analyzed how to get his donkey out of the well. He decided the animal was so old that he wasn’t worth retrieving. And the pit was dangerous. So he decided to cover them both up with dirt. He would bury the donkey alive.

The farmer and his friends grabbed shovels and began to throw dirt on the donkey. When the donkey realized the farmer was burying him, he roared horribly. Then, to everyone’s surprise, the donkey calmed down. That donkey must have surrendered to his fate. They kept shoveling.

After loads of dirt down on the donkey, the farmer looked down in the well, expecting to see a layer of soil where his old donkey used to be. But instead, he saw his donkey on top of the fresh dirt. With each shovel of earth, the donkey shook it off and took a step up. Eventually, with enough dirt, the donkey stepped over the edge of the well and trotted off to safety.

Life shovels dirt on us. We can either surrender and get buried alive or shake it off and step up. Each of our struggles is an opportunity. That obstacle may be the way out of your pit of despair. When life shovels dirt on you, or something stinkier, shake it off and take a step up. You can get out of the deepest wells by not giving up.

What does a resilient team look like?

Researchers at Harvard Business School have identified four main elements of resilient teams.

Humility: Can your team ask for and accept help from other team members? Resilient teams admit when a problem is unmanageable and ask for help. They do not conceal their failures but lean into the team for finding solutions.

Resourcefulness: When confronted with difficulties, does your team develop practical and creative answers? Resilient teams bounce from setbacks. They remain focused on outcomes no matter the external conditions.

Candor: Does your team honestly share feedback? Resilient groups vocalize truth to teammates, collectively identifying and solving challenges they face together.

Empathy: Does your team authentically care for teammates in both failure and success? Resilience is a devotion to elevating the team instead of seeking personal recognition. Talk with your employees frequently and actively listen. Help them recognize triggers of stress that are affecting their work and wellbeing. Social support is vital for managing stress among groups. Empathy creates a loyal and committed team. It also teaches us to be present, improves happiness, and cultivates collaboration.

How do I build a resilient team?

Create bonding activities. Your coworkers need to know about each other’s lives outside of work. Without a bond, they will fail to rally around each other in a time of difficulty. When your team lacks a dose of social interaction from the workplace, the leader must keep them feeling that they are a vital part of something greater than themselves. In team meetings, start them off with both a professional and personal update.

Encourage your team to give positive feedback daily, play remote games, or enjoy virtual coffee breaks together. Make sure that they are taking advantage of video calls and chat applications to foster interactions. Share a funny meme daily. Ask a group question of the day to foster discussion about something other than work. People need to know they are not alone.

Encourage collaboration. A resilient team is a supportive network. Reassure your employees that they can rely on each other When an employee is faced with a difficult situation, ask her to think who on the team could help. That will build resilience in both the person seeking help and the worker providing it.

Communicate with certainty. When your team lacks information, they will begin to let anxiety take over. In uncertain times, we can become more anxious and almost obsessed with the unknown. No matter how bad the news is, don’t hide information from your team. People would rather know reality instead of being kept in the dark.

Consistently make your team members feel valued and appreciated. Promote the appreciation of the gifts that each team member brings to your group. Make sure that you compliment each individual for their specific accomplishments. Create a place that celebrates the whole person by paying attention to your workers. Did someone mention a new hobby? Ask them about it. Buy supplies for them. Remind them that you deeply value their contributions.

Reframe your employees’ insecurities

Give a positive spin to the circumstances that frustrate your workers. Help them look at change as an opportunity instead of something to fear. In the book How Great Leaders Think: The Art of Reframing, the author advocates that we should only focus on what we can control. Encourage your employee to spend her energy on concerns within her influence while letting go of things outside of her control.

To reframe our way of seeing a situation, we should ask ourselves whether there is a genuine loss or just guessing an adverse consequence? We cannot get our minds stuck on how things ought to be. Ask ourselves what we can improve for next time. What was within our control and what was not?

Perfectionism is the enemy. Trying to be perfect will erode the resilience of your team. For years, I strived for perfection to hide my shortcomings. I believed that I needed to project an ideal image to dodge criticism. But perfection is unattainable. As my desire for perfection grew, I risked explosion or collapse. It requires a tremendous amount of energy, with no energy left over for a crisis. Your team will be awash in a sea of fear if you expect perfection from them.

A perfectionist is prone to ask himself questions that are reactive and unproductive, for example, “who is at fault for us not outperforming our competition?” To avoid perfectionism as a leader, ask yourself, “What am I missing? What actions might I take?”

The opposite of a resilient team is a fearful team

Fear causes more errors. Rather than use common sense, workers attempt to read their boss’ mind. So the employees drop the ball over and over. Constant criticism has the same effect.

Resilient teams are not fearful. If your team is continuously afraid, it is not resilient. Do you fear making a mistake? A team that isn’t resilient is consistently afraid of reprimands, demotions, or firings. That isn’t an environment that fosters innovation. Fear is an awful motivator. It drives us to make irrational decisions. When we are motivated by fear, we react without thinking things through, lash out in anger, and isolate ourselves. A workplace awash in fear won’t last long. Fear focuses on the short term instead of the long term.

Resilience requires a psychologically safe workplace

To be resilient, we must understand what we cannot control. We need to remain calm to make responsible choices for things we can control. We must stay positive.

To build resilience in the workplace, teams need a psychologically safe atmosphere where the following conditions are met:

Workers trust that supervisors won’t penalize them for individual mistakes – don’t create a tattletale culture.

Employees are held accountable for their good and bad actions.

Teams uplift each individual’s strengths rather than concentrating on their weaknesses.

Workers feel respected so that they raise their hand when something could be improved or is not right.

People are accountable for the organization’s prosperity and share praise.

Teams uplift each individual’s strengths rather than concentrating on their weaknesses.

These qualities are the way a resilient workplace keeps focused on the company’s vision. Resilient teams have the mental toughness to respond to crises. With a resilient group, a catastrophe goes from a volcano to a speed bump.

Conclusion

Building resilience where fear has deep roots takes skilled effort and leadership. Organizational leaders must direct change without rigid solutions. We must master collaborative leadership to sustain our organizations in an increasingly complex, ambiguous, and volatile world.

#resilient #team #team work #business team #growing your team #building your team

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

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all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 4/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

A few weeks go by, and things are good. Eddie’s tattoo is pretty much healed, and he already finds himself absentmindedly tracing it when his thoughts are too loud, or he feels the wisps of anxiety starting to pull at him. Chris is obsessed with it, fingers roaming it as much as Eddie’s, and he even lets him color it in, just like he does with Buck’s ink.

Buck is good as ever, still in the shop every day, his bright eyes and brighter smile still main players in Eddie’s dreams. Every week, he gives him bouquets confessing his love, a small part of him hoping Buck figures it out on his own, a bigger part knowing he never will. He tells Hen as much one day, and she just levels him with an unimpressed glare.

“He’d figure out your feelings a lot easier if you talked to him.”

Eddie looks at her, bewildered. “But then he’d know.”

One day she’s going to roll her eyes so hard at him, they’ll get stuck in the back of her head.

Maybe he hasn’t told Buck everything, but something still feels different between them. Looks feel more charged, hands linger longer, like neither of them actually wants to let go of the other. Maybe it’s because Eddie has stopped fighting his feelings so much, has let them stretch out in his chest instead of keeping them in a ball. It’s not enough to convince him that everything wouldn’t immediately fall apart if he told Buck how he felt, but it’s a little easier to breathe, at least. A little easier to be open and comfortable with his love for Buck, even if he still can’t say as much out loud. When Buck’s eyes dance over his face a little more intensely than normal, he’s not as ripped in half by naive hope and blind terror as he once was. He still thinks he might have the smallest chance, he’s just not sure what to do with it yet.

But, overall, things are good.

Until suddenly, they’re not.

~~~~~~~~~~

He gets the call on Monday for three standing spray arrangements for a funeral the following week. He gives his condolences as he takes down the woman’s info, asking for the funeral home and the name of the deceased to make sure they get to the right place. When she gives the name — Beth Hubbel, her daughter — there’s a spark of recognition.

He searches for her obituary later, feels his blood run cold when he finds it.

Staff Sergeant Elizabeth Hubbel, United States Army Special Forces. Killed in action in Iraq on her third tour of duty.

They were in Afghanistan together during his second tour. They weren’t friends, but they knew of each other, well enough to nod in passing. And while he’s of course devastated for her family, that’s not what really sets him off. It’s the chilling voice that rises up from the very back of his mind as he reads her accomplishments and the names of the people she left behind, whispering in his ear like broken glass That could have been you. It should have been you. Why wasn’t it you?

He hasn’t gone down this hole, his darkest one, in years. That doesn’t make the spiral any slower.

He tries to hold it back as much as he can — for Chris’s sake, for work’s sake, for everyone — but the dam is cracked and the pressure is crushing. The voice never stops, constantly whispering about how he doesn’t deserve any of this, this life he’s built for himself. He had people relying on him, and he let them down, let them die a fiery death in the desert instead of coming home like he’s sure they promised their families they would. Why should he get to live out his dreams when they didn’t? He lies awake at night, seeing nothing but a burning helicopter when he closes his eyes, feels shooting, phantom pains in his shoulder, like the bullet is tearing freshly through it. He’s terrified of the nightmares he knows are lurking in the shadows, waiting for him, so he just stays up. Fights it until the exhaustion smothers him into a quick, dreamless sleep.

He gets worse and worse as the week wears on, pressure pushing on him inside and out, making it hard to move and impossible to breathe. His “normal” facade that’s hiding the cracks takes too much out of him, so he withdraws as much as he can without being suspicious. If people notice something is wrong, they’ll want to help, and this is not something he’s willing to expose anyone to. The toxic gas of guilt is for him alone. It swirls around him everywhere he goes, soaking into his skin and breaking him down until he’s so fragile that the lightest breeze could break him apart if it blows the wrong direction.

They notice. He knows they do.

Hen mans the front desk single handedly, swoops in to greet customers before Eddie can muster the energy to walk out of the back room. Buck chatters even more about his clients when he visits, filling the silence that surrounds Eddie like a vacuum. Even Chris snuggles closer to him during movie night, his warmth the only thing Eddie registers as he stares listlessly at the TV.

They don’t pry, and he’s grateful, because that’s exactly what he wants, but he also feels like screaming. He’s face to face with the walls he put together with his own hands to protect the people he loves, and all he wants to do now is tear them down. They’re keeping the murky water in as it rises and rises, and Eddie can’t swim on his own for much longer.

But he keeps going. He has to. He swims and he stews because it’s not fair for him to ask people to tear down the prison he built for himself.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the last delivery of the day on Friday, and it takes every ounce of mental and physical energy he has to keep his hands steady and enter the funeral home. The funeral director shows him to the room, already decorated with pictures of Beth in and out of uniform, Army crests, an American flag draped over the closed casket.

He tries to keep his focus only on the flowers as he sets them up, but his eyes keep drifting to the pictures — Beth smiling with her platoon, with her parents, kissing her wife on their wedding day. She was someone, she’d had a whole life ahead of her, and she was gone. When Eddie was overseas, he had a marriage falling apart, a son that barely knew him, and no plans for a future when he was back on U.S. soil. And he survived. How is that fair?

He finishes setting up, hands shaking because he’s running out of strength to keep them still. He stands by the casket, contemplates kneeling and saying a prayer. It’s been a while — he’s not sure if he remembers how to, or if anyone is even listening. Would they do anything if they could hear him? Does he deserve to have his prayers answered, even if they’re for someone else?

He just places his hand on the flag instead, whispers, “I’m sorry,” and all but bolts out the door to the truck. He turns the AC all the way to cold, turns the music all the way up, tries his best to drown his senses before they can drown him.

It’s not enough.

By the time he makes it back, the shop is dark and empty. He has a text from Hen letting him know she closed up early and took Chris home with her for a sleepover with Denny. He leans against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, no energy to even make it up the stairs to crawl into bed. His mind is a hurricane, loud and destructive, and he’s feeling so much that he can’t feel anything at all, he’s just numb.

There’s a soft knock on the back door, and Eddie peels himself off the ground to answer it, figures it’s Chris coming back for a video game. He tries to ignore the winds picking up in his head, the whispers that seem to be getting louder, schools his face into something normal before opening the door.

It’s not Chris, though.

It’s Buck.

He’s got his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and he looks nervous, shifting his weight from side to side. He looks up at Eddie as the door opens, and they just stare at each other, long enough for the storm to keep brewing, strong enough now that Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold it off much longer.

Buck clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck. “Hey. I, uh— you’ve just seemed really off all week? And I saw you walk in as I was leaving and I just...you looked wrecked. You still do.” His eyes scan over Eddie’s face, like he can see right into him, see the water getting closer and closer to covering Eddie completely.

“Are you okay, Eddie?” Buck asks.

No one’s asked him that in a long time, and he hasn’t asked himself that in even longer. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out the best way to articulate himself that isn’t just an incoherent scream. He feels hot tears fill his eyes that he’s somehow held off until now. It’s too much — the memories, the storm, Buck looking at him with genuine concern in his eyes. His body crumples, finally giving into the pressure, but Buck’s arms are around him before he hits the floor, strong and secure. The scream comes out, sobs quickly following.

He holds onto Buck like a life raft.

Buck maneuvers them to the ground, and holds Eddie tightly, hand rubbing up and down his back, through his hair. He’s shushing him quietly, whispering things Eddie can’t hear as he lets everything go, lets the storm rage on in hopes that it’ll dissipate quickly and with minimal damage.

It’s minutes or days later when he finally runs out of tears. His throat hurts, his face feels puffy, and he feels the dampness of Buck’s shirt from where his face was pressed into his chest. He leans back slowly where he’s sitting in between Buck’s legs, hands scrubbing his face as he takes a few deep breaths. He’s never broken down like that, especially not in front of someone else, and he’s exhausted and embarrassed and just wants to run away, hide in his bed for the weekend or the rest of time.

Buck, however, shows no signs of moving. His hands are on Eddie still, one on his back, one on his side, still holding him close while Eddie gets his bearings again. He feels the warmth of them through his shirt, and it feels as good and as safe as he always imagined it would. Still, he keeps his head in his hands for a little while longer, breaths finally evening out. He doesn’t want to look him in the eye yet, doesn’t want to see the pity because he knows he won’t be able to handle it.

When he does finally look up, Buck just looks worried still, tinged with empathy rather than pity. If his heart wasn’t already smashed to dust, it would crack for Buck, too.

He slowly disentangles himself from Buck until they’re sitting next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the door. He doesn’t know what to do — he wants Buck to stay, he wants to tell him to run, he wants to move on from whatever these past few days have been, fix the storm damage and get back to normal.

He sees Buck turn his head out of the corner of his eye, feels his gaze on the side of his face. He stares resolutely at the floor — maybe if he’s still enough, looks put together enough, Buck will take it at face value and leave while he can.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks instead.

And for a minute, he does. He wants to get rid of whatever walls are still left in his head and let Buck in, let him see every decrepit, rotting part of him because he knows, he knows, that Buck will be able to see past all that. He’ll see the good person that Eddie himself hasn’t seen since he left for the desert, and he’ll be able to coax him back into the light.

It’s only for a minute, though. Because then the whispering comes back, roaring in his ears, reminding him that person is gone, and whatever shell is left is not enough, for Buck or for anyone else.

He still can’t ignore the voices, so he just slowly shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Buck keeps staring at him, hands twitching before he slowly reaches over the space between them and grabs his hand. “Talking helps, Eddie. It’s a lot better than keeping everything bottled up like this.”

Eddie bristles at that, the same line he’s heard for years. He knows Buck means well, he always means well, everyone means well when they ask him to talk, but no one gets it. This is just the tip of the iceberg with Eddie. There’s so much darkness swirling underneath that they can’t see, that Eddie will never, ever let them see. Not his parents, not Abuela, not Chris, and not Buck. Especially not Buck. He loves him too much to poison him like that.

He can feel the walls starting to rebuild now that his brain is back online. He doesn’t want to push Buck away like this, knows the small chance he thought they had will disappear if he does, but it’s for Buck’s own good. He’ll see that one day, he thinks.

He stares at their clasped hands before sighing and slowly pulling away. “You don’t need to worry about it. Really, I’ll be alright.”

“Hen told me about the order for this week, at the funeral home. I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you.”

“Buck—”

“Eddie, please, just—”

“You can’t help me,” he says, louder than he means to, as he finally looks Buck in the eye.

Buck looks startled for a minute before his jaw sets, his eyes hardening in determination. “No, I can’t if you don’t let me.”

Eddie scrambles to stand, needs to get away from Buck, from his warmth, everything he doesn’t deserve. “I can’t, okay? It’s— It’s too much. I can barely get a handle on it on my own. You shouldn’t have to worry about it, too”

“I think I can decide that for myself, thanks,” Buck says as he stands too, arms crossing.

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“So am I.”

“Maybe I don’t want your help, did you ever think about that?”

It’s a total lie, but he’s desperate. He’ll do anything to steer Buck away from this. His anger, his sadness, it’s out in the open now, curling around the ceiling in tendrils, threatening to suffocate them both.

Buck freezes, looks like he’s about to keep arguing, but he just deflates instead. He looks at Eddie for another long minutes, and there’s that pity he’s been waiting for. The sadness for Eddie and the mess that he is. Finally, he hears, he finally figured out you’re not worth it.

Buck makes a move toward him, like he did the night he got his tattoo, and Eddie braces for the worst — a slap, a punch, anything to let out the frustration he’s no doubt caused. Instead, Buck just grabs his hand again.

He doesn’t pull away this time.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” he says, squeezing Eddie’s hand until he knows he has his attention. “You’re my best friend, Eddie. I care about you and Chris more than pretty much anyone in the world. I won’t force you to tell me anything but...I want to help. I want to help you handle it. All of it.” He lets his hand go and walks towards the door, turning back before crossing the threshold. “Just remember I’m here for you, okay? No matter what.”

Eddie watches the door shut as Buck leaves, and he’s alone, again, still trying not to drown.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #the infamous chapter where eli threatened to burn my house down and also bribed me #i'm sorry!!#it hurt me to write too!!#now y'all get to feel the pain!!#last chapter next week!!#the flower shop #ficcery

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