#maybe he was the only who truly understood the cycle of life after all in the show

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Master List

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.

The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.

Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.

As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.

Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.

Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.

Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.

It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.

All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.

But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.

Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.

~~~~~

“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”

Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.

The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.

“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”

Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.

But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.

“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

“Mom, I already paid it off—”

“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”

“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.

“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”

“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.

“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”

Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”

“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.

The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.

“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.

“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”

“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.

“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.

“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.

A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.

“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.

“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs

“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.

“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”

Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.

Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.

“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.

“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.

“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.

“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”

“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.

“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.

“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”

“For what?”

“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”

“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”

“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.

“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”

“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.

“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”

“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”

Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.

“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”

“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”

“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”

“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”

“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”

“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.

~~~~~

After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.

“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.

“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”

“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.

Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.

“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.

He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.

To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.

On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.

But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.

But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.

“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”

“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Did you tell Nickie—”

“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”

“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”

Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.

“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.

“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.

But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.

Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.

She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.

Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.

And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.

Whoever the hell he was.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

[thatgirlwbraids]

you are not the problem

hear me out , you are not the reason you’re not entering the void , manifesting your dream life , getting any desire etc .

We should not focus why we are not receiving but instead becoming Aware of Being of the Version of Yourself that has received.

read that again .

now tell me if you understood be often blame ourselves for not manifesting your dream life’s because ofc , our lifes our on the line , time exists & we want it now ! don’t we ? but we are not the problem we are NEVER the problem . it’s not this human, limited ever changing human 3D self .

it’s the SELF where everything starts and ends . you may ask “ well sophie what is SELF ? “ for that I would like to explain a few concepts .

you see awarness / imagination / consciousness is the only reality this 3D is a mirror always reflecting this & to change your reflection ( in a mirror ) would you try to manipulate the mirror or change your clothes or whatever you need to change or go to the mirror and try to do something to put on the clothes you want ? so how do you change the reflection ? SELF . this SELF can be changed through the medium of feeling ( no NOT EMOTIONS ) . to get a better understanding of feeling I would like you to a little meditation

here’s the meditation . please do it and come back to truly understand this law .

you might of felt this power within yourself and feeling what you truly want to feel for once . it must’ve gave you relief , acceptance or even a clearer mind it could be anything it’s different for everyone .

what you did right here feeling what you truly want to feel ( your desire ) you gave it to your inner man .

who is the inner man you ask ? the inner man is YOU the man in the limitless imagination . what the inner man is the outer man IS . as within, so without

you see most of the time we are fooling our inner man into being this outer man of senses we tell him we are this which is all on you this inner man is the one who embodies SELF .

so anytime we find ourselves desiring IT IS NEVER our outer man who desires it is always the inner man . and it is our duty to make our inner man live in fulfillment after we find this law .

when I said time doesn’t exist that’s because only NOW exists in imagination . NOW . what are you presently identifying being in your imagination ?

“ When Neville says "Leave the world just as it is and change self. No one to change but self," he means the self that is within, the only self there is. Why leave the world alone? Because it is only an expression of "SELF!" Why does he say to change that and that alone? Because "SELF MUST BE EXPRESSED," that is the Law. You don't have to doubt "is my imaginal act going to come to pass?" Who is doubting? "SELF!" Who is worrying? "SELF!" What gets expressed? "SELF!" YOU CAN ALWAYS TRUST THAT SELF WILL BE EXPRESSED! “ edward art series , part 4 : inner self must be exalted .

I would love for you guys to read edward art series which can give you the most clear explanation of the law I SWEAR you will not need anything else . it’s barely a half hour read .

understanding SELF is very important when it comes to the law .

like said the outer world only expresses SELF & it is very important to truly understand the law before you try anything or you will be stuck in an endless cycle of trying .

ik ik ik its very hard to not skim through posts & actually read a book that will help you manifest literally all of your desires I UNDERSTAND YOUR LAZINESS . but seriously ? think of your dream YOUR DREAM . it will NOT be a dream anymore if you read a damn book that’s literally so short .

keep reminding yourself of your dream , that’s what got me our of this cycle . I really wanted this thing so bad but I WAS SO LAZY but was it this or not having the success that I deserved ?

for some of my void girlies on tumblr who have been trying so hard to enter the void for maybe even years I wanna tell you tumblr will never help you yk why ? until I actually read neville’s books I saw what the I AM state was about it was connecting with your true SELF , consciousness . it’s in almost all of his books . that info THAT INFO is a million dollars not these impulsive tumblr posts . I swear TO GOD ( TT ) that you need this more than anyone . you deserve this life that you want AND I SWEAR you gonna be the one to get it . this LAW will not fail you . but you need to understand the LAW before you apply it ? because what LAW are you exactly following that u put ur trust in ? it’s not the law of void there is so much behind it & i’m not asking you to read all of nevilles lectures and books just a few books or even 1 or just even edward arts series because even a little will free you .

I wanna end on a good note by just saying every blogger here doesn’t have it all figured out so don’t idolize anyone but take what resonates with you . this human life is a gift from yourself and you have to treasure it . it doesn’t matter how bad your circumstances are this LAW is here for you but this life is also a gift please do what you have to do to get by . get your life together PLEASE work on your SELFS ( 3D ) do you see yourself rn ? you need everything this body this life is what’s gonna get you up from rockbottom start with what you have now improve yourself without the law but also you can follow the LAW it’s a two way path . maybe this life is completely different from the life you desire , that’s okay still spread love and take care of yourself and your life , still be responsible for yourself and your life ( all when it comes to the 3D ) the LAW is A LAW it’s always gonna be here . i’m sorry if this was harsh I just want you to manage this life as well as well as manifest your dream life <3 don’t neglect your 3D it’s a GIFT FROM GOD ( imagination )

you deserve the world honey and we will get it < 3

© prettymindset111

[supernovafics]

𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k words

summary: in which you want to get revenge on the people that killed your brother, but you needed frank’s help to do so

warnings: explicit language, death of a loved one, blood/mentions of violence, angst, implied smut

author’s note: i was working on this on and off for the past maybe three months (going through that never ending cycle of gaining inspiration and then losing it). and i’m so happy that it’s final done! and i really love how it turned out!! hope y’all enjoy<333 (full folklore series here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝and there's nothin' like a mad woman. what a shame she went mad. no one likes a mad woman. you made her like that.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Y’sure you don’t want to just stay here?” 

Frank’s question didn’t surprise you, but that didn’t change how annoyed you immediately felt by it. 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” You were quick to tell him, and you firmly buckled your seatbelt to show him how serious you were. “Especially because you’re only doing this for me.”

“I’ve done worse things.”

It was hard to rebuttal Frank’s statement because you knew exactly how true it was, but you still said something. “I’m coming.”

Frank only nodded his head at your words before finally beginning to drive the car the two of you were sitting in.

If it were a year ago, you would’ve actually understood Frank’s hesitance toward you coming because, in comparison to who you were now, you were completely different then. And sometimes, it surprised you how vastly your life had managed to change in just twelve months. 

However, if it was also a year ago, you wouldn’t have needed Frank in the first place. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝now i breathe flames each time i talk. my cannons all firin' at your yacht. they say, "move on", but you know, i won't.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .��。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Five Weeks Earlier

The pain in your wrist was what woke you up. 

A part of you felt upset because every other night, the sleep you had been getting in your motel room located in the middle of nowhere Illinois was shitty, but the deep state of rest that you’d found yourself in that specific night actually felt really good. 

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was Frank Castle sitting across the room in the creaky wooden chair that you hated. 

“Jesus Christ,” You said, shooting upward in surprise, and from the tug of your arm, you noticed why your wrist was hurting in the first place; it was handcuffed to the headboard. “What the hell?”

Frank dismissed your previous statements and instead leaned forward in the chair, squinting at you. “You’ve been following me for the past two weeks. Why?”

You mentally kicked yourself because, apparently, you hadn’t been as discreet as you thought you’d been. However, the man in front of you was Frank Castle, so it probably would’ve been more surprising if he didn’t notice you. 

You took a moment to truly think about how to respond to him. The next words that you would say would be the most important, and you knew that this was essentially your “make or break” moment with him. That was why you had only been mildly stalking him for the past few weeks instead of approaching him at any of the places you had followed him to. Because you couldn’t figure out the best way to actually talk to him. What you wanted, needed, from him was so important to you, and you couldn’t risk screwing it up. 

After Frank stared at you as you took what felt like hours to think of what to tell him, you settled on simply saying, “I want your help.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and his head cocked slightly to the side. “Who are you?” 

It sounded like a fairly easy question he was asking you. But you knew that it wasn’t; he wanted more than just you simply responding with your name. 

“Eight months ago, my brother was murdered,” You started and then stopped immediately. Those words still felt so foreign falling from your lips. “He got involved with this fucked up group of people that he thought were his friends at first, but then they wanted him to do a bunch of illegal shit; robberies, drug deals, kidnappings, pretty much any horrific thing you could think of. And when he tried to get out, to leave, they killed him.”

You left out the part about how you had been so close to getting him out of it all. That days before Jackson was supposed to board a flight to where you lived in Seattle, they shot him and left him for dead in the middle of a park. 

You also didn’t tell Frank that sometimes you couldn’t help but blame yourself because you had left him alone in New York. Even though when you got your job in Washington, Jackson had begged you to go because he knew how much you had wanted the job and to get away from New York. The city that took your parents and left you as the only guardian of your brother since you were sixteen and he was five. 

But that still didn’t stop you from blaming yourself. For not forcing him to come with you when you got the job, to get a fresh start like you wanted in a completely new place, sooner. Even though he was twenty and could make his own decisions, he was still your little brother, and you always wanted to protect him. 

You didn’t say any of that to Frank, though, because you knew it wasn’t needed. That information wasn’t important to the task at hand.  

Instead, you said, “And I found them. Exactly where they are in New York. What they’re doing right now, and what they’re planning to do. But I need your help. I know who you are and what you do, and I want those people that killed my brother dead. And you’re the only person that could possibly care and help me with that.”

Frank was silent once you finished speaking and your explanation just lingered in the air of the motel room. It was then, in that moment of quiet, that you were reminded of how badly your wrist was feeling. 

“So,” You decided to break the prevailing silence. “Can you help me?”

Instead of answering your question, Frank posed a few of his own. “How do you know where these guys are? How do you know anything about them?”

Frank’s lack of a response to your very important question didn’t worry you. In fact, a part of it made you inwardly smile. Because he wasn’t saying no to you, at least not yet, and that gave you all the hope you needed at that moment. 

“I work with computers; I.T., data analysis, it feels wrong to say hacking because of its negative connotation, but yes, that too,” You began explaining, happy to tell Frank what you had decided to look into a few months ago when your grief morphed from intense sadness to anger. “And these guys are idiots. It took me less than an hour to get into my brother’s phone, get these guys’ numbers, and find every single piece of information about the shit they’re doing. I tracked the warehouse that they’re set up at outside of Long Island, and I got into all of their phones, so I know every single text message and call they’re making at any time.”

Frank studied you for a moment, almost as if he was trying to see how honest you were being. “I wanna see.” 

“It’s all on my laptop. In my bag, on the table by the door,” You responded quickly, and Frank was quick to reach into your bag and hand your laptop over to you. You gestured your head in the direction of your wrist that was still cuffed to the headboard. “Could you take the handcuff off?”

Frank nodded as he pulled a key out of his back pocket and finally unlocked the handcuff, taking it off your wrist. You almost immediately began rubbing it, trying to ease away some of the pain. 

“It’ll be bruised for a bit, but it should stop hurting after a day or two.” 

You didn’t say anything in response to that, although you did appreciate Frank’s words. Instead, you opened up your laptop and began pulling up the information that he wanted to see. 

As he looked at your computer, you abruptly said, “Thank you.”

Frank shook his head at you. “I haven’t said yes. That I would help you.”

You simply nodded understandingly at his words. However, there was a certain look of intrigue on his face as you showed him everything you knew about your brother’s murderers that told you otherwise. 

He didn’t have to say it aloud, and a part of you thought he might never actually say it out loud, but it didn’t matter because Frank Castle was going to help you. That was something you knew for certain. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝i'm takin' my time. takin' my time. 'cause you took everything from me.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was nearing eleven when you and Frank pulled up across the street from the warehouse that housed the people that killed your brother. 

A part of you felt nervous knowing what was going to happen, but the other part of you felt happy that something completely justified was about to occur. 

“They’re all in there, right?”

You looked down at your laptop, which currently showed the pinpointed locations of the cellphones of everyone involved. 

Apparently, from the text messages and phone calls you had been monitoring, there was an important meeting happening right then about the next robbery they were planning. 

“Yes, they’re all there and have been for the last thirty minutes.”

“Okay,” Frank responded. “Then it’s time.”

You nodded and shut your laptop before placing it in the backseat. When you turned your attention back toward Frank, you noticed a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher, but for some reason, it worried you. 

You almost asked him what was wrong, but he grabbed your arm before you could mutter out the first word of the question and handcuffed your wrist to the steering wheel. You were too in shock about what was happening that you couldn’t even put up a fight against him. 

“Frank, what the hell are you doing?”

“Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, but you didn’t allow yourself to acknowledge it right then. “I don’t care about the conversation. Uncuff me, Frank.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” He shook his head at you. “Instead, I’m gonna go inside that warehouse, handle this for you, and then come back out. Okay?”

“No.”

None of this conversation truly felt real to you. The plan that you had curated with Frank over the past weeks felt like it was going completely down the drain. And although sometimes, deep down, you thought maybe you’d be the one to bail out and change things up at the last second, instead, it was Frank forcing you to do so, and you couldn’t believe it. 

He didn’t respond to your one-word protest and instead opened the driver’s seat door. 

There felt like there wasn’t really any hope that Frank would change his mind, but you couldn’t allow yourself not to try at least once more. 

“Please, let me go in there with you. I want to do this.”

He only looked at you for a moment before saying, “No, I’m not letting you do this. You’re a good person, and doing this will change that. As much as you think it won’t change you, it will. And I’m not gonna allow that to happen. So, just let me handle this for you.”

You didn’t get another chance to protest because Frank stepped out of the car before you could say anything.

He was protecting you, and you knew that. But, it also felt like after over a month of knowing one another, he still only saw you as weak, as someone that needed saving. 

And that made you angry because you never wanted him to save you; you just wanted him to help you. You truly wanted to fight your own battle and hurt the people that hurt your brother, and he took that opportunity away from you. 

As you heard the trunk pop open and Frank reach for the guns that he put back there, two of which were supposed to be yours, you couldn’t help but think back to the conversation he had been referring to only moments ago. 

There was a certain thing he said during the minor argument that happened during that conversation, and thinking about it right then, with your wrist uncomfortably handcuffed to the steering wheel, it finally made you realize that maybe you should’ve seen all of this coming. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back? they strike to kill, and you know i will. you know i will.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Three Weeks Earlier

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was something worse about the motel room in Long Island than the one in Illinois. 

The smells there were far worse than what you’d experienced in Illinois, but there was something else too, something that you couldn’t fully decipher. 

Maybe it was simply the place itself. You were back in New York, the city that took your parents and your brother too, and you truly hated being there. It no longer felt like any sort of “home” to you, and it hadn’t in a really long time. 

However, knowing what you were doing there and what was soon to come made the smallest part of you feel good about being there. And you had Frank too, as both quiet and annoyingly bossy as he was.

“Why are we waiting so long?” You had asked him one night as the two of you sat opposite one another at a diner. 

“Waiting is good. Waiting lets us know exactly what we’re up against. The guys may be idiots about keeping their shit off of computers, but they might be smart about other things,” Frank explained as he adjusted the hat on his head that he was using as part of a disguise. A part of you couldn’t help but reluctantly agree with his words. “Also, you need as much target practice as you can get. You’ve gotten better in the past week, but you’re still pretty bad.” 

You felt absolutely offended by the statement but still knew that he was completely right. However, that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at him and dryly saying, “Thanks for the words of encouragement.” 

“You’ll be ready when the time comes.”

You didn’t thank him for the actual words of encouragement and instead just took a bite from one of the last few fries on your plate.

The ending of that conversation left you feeling the tiniest bit hopeful, glad that Frank seemed as if he believed in you and that the two of you were actually a team in all of this. 

However, on a different night, only a few days later, the conversation had been much different. 

“Doing this won’t take the pain away,” Frank had told you. He was sitting at the foot of the double bed that was closer to the door, and you were in the other with your back against the headboard. The tiny television was on and playing reruns of Friends, as it probably had been all day. Your head immediately turned in Frank’s direction when you heard his abrupt words and as he continued speaking. “At the end of the day, he’ll still be gone.”

“I know,” You said, the two words coming out a bit sharper than you meant for them to. You cleared your throat. “But that doesn’t mean his murderers should continue to run free and keep doing severely fucked up shit.”

“I agree, but I wanted to tell you, so you can make sure you understand what you’re gonna do.”

“I know,” You told him. This time your voice was softer as you said the same two words. 

“You’re a good person. Doing this, killing people, can change that.”

“You are too.”

“I’m not a good person.”

“I don’t believe that.” You were quick to shake your head. “You’re helping me. For absolutely no reason. There’s gotta be some good in you, Castle.” 

He bypassed your statement. “Just think about this, okay?”

“My mind is already made up and has been for the past four months,” You told him before getting under your blanket and then turning on your side, facing away from Frank. You weren’t the least bit tired right then, but you were happy to pretend to bring an end to the conversation. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝what do you sing on your drive home? do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"?❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Over the next three weeks, that conversation never came up again, so you thought that Frank ultimately stood by your decision. 

However, you were wrong. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that just yet. 

Yes, you were mad at Frank, but you couldn’t allow yourself to hate him until you heard a good enough explanation as to why he wanted to do this without you. And not one that solely consisted of him calling you a “good person” because that sounded like a bullshit cop-out to you. 

It wasn’t long after Frank slammed the trunk shut and walked toward the warehouse that you heard the faint sound of gunshots. The sound startled you, even though you knew that it was coming, and you hated that the smallest, smallest part of you was glad that you weren’t in there. 

And that felt like a betrayal to not only yourself but especially your brother. 

You tried hard to push away the thoughts you knew would come next. The thoughts that you had successfully buried deep down for the past month you’d been with Frank. They were the thoughts that told you that you were to blame for what happened to your brother and that you should’ve tried harder to save him. When you thought about it long enough, the pain you felt from his death still felt fresh. 

You suddenly felt insanely claustrophobic, and you started yanking your handcuffed wrist hard in efforts to get yourself freed from the steering wheel. Of course, that did nothing but only hurt your wrist even more. However, you didn’t care because at least trying to do something at that moment felt better than wallowing in silence and crying as you thought about your brother. 

Barely twenty minutes later, you heard the sound of the trunk opening again. You hadn’t been paying attention to the sounds of the gunshots anymore, instead successfully dissociating yourself from the moment entirely, so you hadn’t noticed when they stopped, and hearing the trunk right then surprised you. 

You roughly wiped at your cheeks, which were unsurprisingly wet with tears, because some things you couldn’t push away, as you heard the trunk slam shut. And then moments later, you heard the driver’s side door open, and Frank get inside. 

He uncuffed your wrist without saying a word and especially didn’t say anything about the bruises already forming on your skin; from your pointless attempt to break free. He looked at your face— well, only the side of it, since you were staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with him— and he didn’t say anything about the fact that he could tell you’d been crying. 

Instead, he just started driving. 

You allowed yourself to take one quick glance at him, and right when you did, you knew that the sight of him with blood all over his clothes and face would never leave your mind. You silently wondered how much of it was his own. 

Instead of asking, you turned your head and decided to stare out the window as Frank drove back to the motel. 

“Don’t be fucking mad, okay?” He finally broke the prevailing silence after about five minutes. “It’s done and over now, and that’s what you really wanted, right?”

“Thank you,” You told him, words completely sincere, and you hoped your next ones came out the same exact way. “But, also, fuck you, Frank.”

He didn’t say anything in response to that, and you didn’t necessarily want him to, so it was a win-win situation in your eyes. Silence prevailed once again, and you continued to look out the window. 

“There was no reason for you to come in too,” Frank finally spoke. “It was seven guys. I’ve handled more than that, and smarter ones than that, before. Too many times to fucking count.”

“That’s not the point,” You responded and then sighed, not having the energy to explain yourself further. 

“Then what is the point?” Frank asked and then huffed when you didn’t say anything after a few moments. “Exactly.”

You let out a long breath before speaking. “I wanted to see them get what they deserved. I wanted to see them pay for what they did to him. That’s the point.”

Frank abruptly pulled the car over and looked at you. “So, what? You wanna go back? You wanna go see their lifeless bodies?”

You met his glare with a harsh look of your own and tilted your head a bit. “And what if I said yes?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you. “It doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t say yes. You don’t have the stomach for that shit. As much as you keep trying to convince yourself otherwise, you’re not this kind of person.”

“You act like you know me, Frank, but you don’t. Like, how you keep spewing this shit about how I’m a ‘good person.’ Well, I’m fucking not.” You wanted to scream that at him, but you didn’t, and instead pulled your eyes away from his and went back to staring straight ahead at the empty road. “And you want to know how I know that? Because what happened to Jackson is my fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

You almost didn’t respond to him, but ultimately you did. “I left him, and he fell in with that group of people that hurt him. I should’ve forced him to leave the city when I did. But I didn’t. And I truly hate myself for that.”

That was the first time that you admitted out loud how much you blamed yourself for your brother’s death. And hearing the words finally fall from your lips made them feel even truer to you, and it also made your last sentence feel a thousand times more right as well. 

You sincerely did not want to hear Frank say anything in response to any of what you had just said, and instead, you wanted the conversation to end there. He must have read your mind because he didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive back to the motel. 

When he pulled into the parking lot, you stayed in the car as he exited and went to walk inside the room. He didn’t question you about what was going on in your head, which you were grateful for. 

You sighed and let your eyes slip shut. A part of you wanted to cry, but the other part of you felt too empty and numb, so ultimately, you just sat in the car in silence. 

It almost pained you to realize how right Frank was. 

Now that this was done— you got your “revenge”—  it changed nothing for you. Jackson was still gone, you were still hurting, and it wasn’t only that you lost him; you lost the final person in your family. Now you had no one. 

Although you already felt pretty numb, you sincerely craved a drink of anything, and the liquor store down the road suddenly sounded like a really good idea. But, instead, you walked into the motel room and could immediately hear the sound of the shower running. When you closed the door behind you and locked it, you planned to force yourself to sleep and hope tomorrow would bring better feelings, even though you were unsure what you would do next. 

However, when you saw the bathroom door open and heard Frank say the words, “I need your help,” you knew that you probably wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. 

He only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and if this was any other moment, you would’ve allowed yourself to admire his body and how good he looked, a fact that never had been lost on you. However, all you could process was the gash on his hip, where you could tell a bullet had grazed him. 

“You’re bleeding,” You said, stating the obvious. 

“Yeah, that’s why I need your help,” He responded and then looked down at the open wound, examining it for a second. “It’s actually pretty deep so I need you to stitch me up.”

You hesitantly nodded and then went to grab the first aid kit that was packed in your suitcase and went over to where Frank was standing by the sink. 

“I’ve never done this before, so it is probably going to look very bad,” You told him before bending down to start stitching him up. 

He shrugged halfheartedly and glanced down at you for a brief moment. “It’s fine.”

You gave him a small nod and then pushed away the nausea you were already feeling because you had to do this. 

For the first time that night, you felt like things were too quiet, and the sounds of Frank’s soft winces as the thin needle pierced his skin didn’t fill the silence in a way that made things feel any sort of comfortable. 

Therefore, you decided you had to say something. “You were right.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, so you took that as your cue to keep going. 

“The pain hasn’t gone away. And honestly, it might feel a bit worse than before; I am not entirely sure yet.” The fact that you weren’t looking Frank straight in the eyes as you spoke made it easy for you to continue to ramble on and say the things that you wouldn’t have told him, or anyone, any other time. “He was the last person I had, and now I have no one. And now that this is over, that fact just feels much more solidified. So yeah, you were right, and I’m glad I wasn’t in there with you. And honestly, maybe none of this shit you did for me really mattered in the first place. I don’t feel angry about it anymore. I just feel so fucking sad.” 

There was more you could say, but you knew that you needed to stop there before you turned into a sobbing mess on the white-tiled floor. 

“I didn’t wanna be right.” Frank finally spoke, and you stayed quiet, not saying anything more as you finished stitching him up. 

“You’re done,” You told him before standing up and purposely avoiding his eyes. “And I need alcohol, so I’ll be right back.”

Frank furrowed his eyebrows at you as he went to slip on a black t-shirt. “Are you sure about that?”

You didn’t turn around as you walked toward the door. “Positive.”

Of course, you knew it was a bad idea, and maybe you should’ve noticed the wary look on Frank’s face directed at you, but right then, you didn’t really care. 

Your journey to and from the liquor store down the street surprisingly took less than twenty minutes, and when you entered the motel room again, you didn’t waste any time unscrewing the bottle of dark tequila and taking a swig from it. 

Usually, it took at least four shots for you to effectively feel something; even in college, your tolerance for alcohol had been good. However, this night you only needed to take two shots for your mind to feel fuzzy. You chalked it up to the fact that you had already felt pretty numb inside. 

After your many persistent requests, Frank joined you and took small swigs from the bottle as well. The two of you sat at the foot of the bed that was his and traded the tequila back and forth as an old sitcom played on the small television, and a silence that you didn’t mind took over. 

“You’ll be fine eventually,” Frank abruptly said as he placed the top on the bottle and put it on the floor, an action that you didn’t protest because you knew that it was definitely for the best. “It won’t hurt forever.”

Without much thinking, mainly because your brain couldn’t allow you to do a lot of thinking, you leaned your head against Frank’s shoulder and hoped that he would also be right about that because, quite honestly, you were tired of feeling sad. 

“I truly hope so,” was what you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t form the words on your lips. However, you still wanted to somehow show him that you appreciated his words. 

You pulled your head off of his shoulder and turned closer toward him to let your lips softly press against his cheek. The proximity was dangerous, and it was in that moment that you let yourself recognize how attractive Frank was; a thought that had been off limits from the second you decided you wanted his help to kill your brother’s murderers because you knew that thinking about him in that way would only pull your mind away from the task at hand. But, now, the task was over. 

Therefore, you allowed yourself to think about the stubble on his cheek and how it tickled your chin and made you want to smile. And you also thought about how nice he had always been to you, even when he showed it to you in a shitty way. 

He might not have seen himself as a good person, but to you, he was. 

You allowed yourself to meet his eyes for a brief moment, unable to read his expression, before letting your lips slot against his. You immediately tasted the tequila on his mouth, which sent a shiver down your spine but also warmed your insides. 

For some reason, kissing Frank at that moment didn’t feel wrong to you, and you could tell by the way that Frank’s hand found your cheek and pulled you the tiniest bit closer to him that maybe it didn’t feel wrong to him either. 

You slowly pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and maneuver yourself, with the help of Frank’s hands on your waist, so that you were straddling either side of his lap. When your lips found his again, you let your fingers thread themselves in his short hair. It was both slightly surprising and flattering to feel how hard he was beneath you, and the feeling made you moan in his mouth. 

Abruptly, Frank pulled away, and your confused eyes met his gaze as he softly said, “You’re sad and drunk right now.”

Both things he said were very true, but that didn’t mean that you wanted any of this to stop. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” You told him and started to slowly move against him. However, both of Frank’s hands found your hips and halted you. You sighed before letting out a soft, “Please.”

You hated how desperate you sounded at that moment, but you couldn’t help it. For once, you didn’t want to think about anything, and you wanted Frank to do the same. 

He simply looked at you and didn’t say anything for a few moments. You could tell that he was contemplating things, but the fact that he hadn’t moved you off of his lap yet gave you a small sliver of hope. 

“It’s okay,” You told him again and hoped you could convey to him how entirely true those words were. You knew that you wouldn’t regret this, even once your mind was fully cleared and devoid of alcohol. 

He didn’t verbally respond to you and instead pressed his lips against yours, which was a response you liked better anyway. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before matching his intensity with your own and passionately moving your mouth against his.

It didn’t take long for you to end up with Frank on top of you, clothes still on but wildly anticipating the moment they weren’t anymore. 

For once, something actually felt okay in your life, and you couldn’t remember the last time that was true. Since your brother died, you felt lost; and perhaps even before then, that feeling wasn’t too far off. 

It worried you thinking about what was next; even the thought of tomorrow scared you, knowing that somehow you’d have to go back to a life that was normal. But you didn’t want to think about that too much because doing so scared and confused you. 

As Frank peppered harsh kisses against your neck, leaving marks that would definitely be there for the next few days, you knew that there was one thing that remained certain. At that moment, you wanted him, and he wanted you. Even if it would be just for the night. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝and you find something to wrap your noose around. and there's nothin' like a mad woman.❞ 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[ghostofskywalker]

Congrats on the followers!!!!! I love your work! No pressure to write anything. I'd love to make a request to participate in your celebration but I honestly can't think of one right now.

Surprise me! Only if you feel up to it and have time. <3 thanks for all the sweet and amazing content you put out!!!

Congrats again <3

you are so lovely, thank you so much!! here is a little bit of echo fluff for you :)

words: 1,427

summary: It's clear that you and echo have feelings for each other, but it takes the meddling of the bad batch's sniper for you to actually do something about it.

clone troopers masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

Daydreams and Jealousy

Three suns gleamed high in the sky as the Bad Batch took a much needed vacation day from the rest of the galaxy. There was a priceless treasure for one of Cid’s clients hidden away in the hull of the Marauder, but the whole operation had taken less than a rotation when they had been given four, so it seemed that a pit stop was in order. 

Crosshair took in the sights of the unfamiliar planet as he stepped off the ramp. Previously he had been content to stay in his bunk all day while the others did whatever they wanted, but the stale smell of the ship had become too much (one would think they would clean more with Omega on board, but it never turned out that way). 

Wrecker was currently playing with a small group of  loth-cats, laughing loudly as the animals ran circles around him. Tech was watching the scene unfold with great interest, occasionally tossing out facts about the life cycles and mating practices of the felines, even though Wrecker wasn’t really listening.

You and Omega were curled up together under a tree, snoozing quietly. Omega’s head had fallen onto your chest and your arms were around her, both of you breathing steadily as you napped. There was a datapad sitting on the ground next to where your hand had come to rest, so Crosshair guessed that you had been reading to the young girl before the two of you had fallen asleep. The hard bark of the tree didn’t look too comfortable in his opinion, but for the last few weeks it felt like everyone had been running non stop, so he understood the tendency to fall asleep anywhere. 

He walked over to Hunter and sat down next to him. It hadn’t been that long since he had left with his brothers instead of returning to the Empire, and while he didn’t feel as though they resented him for the choices he made while under the influence of the inhibitor chip, his relationship with Hunter was the slowest to repair. However, just the other day, Hunter had teased Crosshair over something silly, and the sniper hoped that it meant things were truly looking up. “You finally left the cave to get some fresh air, huh?” 

“Yeah, I figured I’d come join the fun out here.” 

“That’s good, or I would have sent Omega in there to come get you.” 

Crosshair smiled. “I don’t think she would have done that.” 

“I don’t know, even though Tech says I’m her favorite, I think she likes all of us equally,” Hunter said. “Even you.” 

“I’m surprised you’re not a little jealous right now,” Crosshair said. 

His brother looked confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re not the one cuddling with her, are you?” Crosshair responded, nodding over to where you and Omega were still fast asleep. “She may have a new favorite after today.” 

Hunter playfully rolled his eyes before responding. “If you’re looking for jealousy, maybe you should talk to Echo. I think he’s feeling a little envious of Omega right now.”

Both men turned their gaze over to Echo, who was sitting out of earshot of their conversation. He was attempting to read something on his datapad, but his gaze kept flickering over to where you were asleep against the tree. Crosshair turned to Hunter. “He really is lovesick, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “And it’s a little embarrassing because she’s also in love with him, he’s just too blind to see it.” 

Crosshair just nodded, his mind mulling over the details and wondering how easy it would be to get you and Echo to confess to each other. He needed some entertainment on this damn ship anyway. 

***

A few weeks later, you found yourself tossing and turning in your bunk. Why was it so kriffing cold in here all of a sudden? You knew hyperspace travel wasn’t exactly like vacationing on Scarif, but the ship was supposed to be equipped with a heating system to combat that. 

You sighed as you realized it was probably the heating system that went offline or malfunctioned, and you would be stuck like this until the next morning, when Tech could take a look at everything. Jealous of everyone else (for being able to stay asleep through all this), you tossed and turned a little more, and you were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t hear your name being softly called. 

Immediately terrified that you had accidentally woken someone up, you looked out to see Echo sitting up in his bunk, a single blanket wrapped around him. “Did I wake you?” you asked softly.

He shook his head. “No, I just saw that you were awake and wanted to know if you knew what was wrong.”

“My guess is that it’s something with the heating system,” you asked. “But that means we’ll be stuck freezing until Tech can take a look at it.” 

“I thought we had some extra blankets lying around here,” Echo said as he got off his bunk and looked around. With the way the rest of the batch was asleep and he couldn’t turn on the light, it didn’t look like a very fruitful search. “Wait! I found one!” 

A smile spread across your face when Echo brought the prize into view, but soon you were faced with a new predicament. “Which one of us gets the blanket?” you asked. 

“I’ll see if I can find another one,” Echo said, but after a few more minutes of rifling through the various storage areas of the ship, he came up with nothing. 

“You found the blanket, you keep it,” you said, not wanting him to feel like he had to give up the blanket for you. “I’ll be fine for the night.”  

“No, I couldn't do that,” he said. “You should take the blanket.” 

“No, that’s not fair.” 

“I couldn’t let you freeze to death.” 

Taking a deep breath, you offered up another solution. “What if we shared it?” When he stared at you like a startled tooka, you elaborated. “We can share my bunk for the night. Between the one blanket we each have and the extra you found, it should be enough to keep us warm.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Echo asked. “My prosthetics can’t exactly be the most comfortable things to sleep next to.” 

“Echo, it’s fine,” you said. “Cuddling up to you will always be better than freezing all night.” You almost wished you could take those words back as you said them, not because you didn’t think they were true, but because you weren’t sure if he had planned on snuggling up together and you didn’t want to scare him off. 

But thankfully, your statement was well received by him, and he nodded. Once the blankets were stacked up on your bunk, Echo slipped into bed beside you, and you couldn’t help but smile. He still ran warmer than you did, and the feeling of that warmth, plus the blankets you had on top of you far outweighed any chill you received from touching his prosthetics. 

Instinctively, you found yourself curling up against him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Is this okay?” you asked quietly. “I don’t want-”

“Mesh’la,” Echo cut you off. “It’s more than okay.” 

You just nodded, already feeling your eyes grow heavier. The feeling of falling asleep next to him was one that you had only ever dreamed of, and now you were getting to experience it (if only because the heating was broken). “What does that mean?” you asked sleepily. 

“Mesh’la?” Echo asked, and you nodded. “It means beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Of course,” he responded. “And I’ve been trying to pull together the courage to make a move on you, I guess it was the heating system that finally got me to do something.” 

“I think you’re amazing,” you said. “And I’d really like this sleeping arrangement to continue even after the heating is fixed.” 

Echo laughed as he leaned down to place a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I want to stay like this too.”

The two of you fell asleep not long after, curled in each other’s arms. 

And the next morning, when Crosshair returned from the cockpit and went to catch some sleep, he just smiled when he saw you and Echo all cuddled up together. Hunter now owed him some credits, and hopefully Tech doesn’t realize that it was him that was tampering with the ship’s heating system.

- the end - 

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[mskpassed]

Blood that should've been water

There's no worse thing than looking in the mirror and seeing your father looking back at you.

The man you never understood, the man you never wanted to understand, the man that never tried to understand you either.

I don't want to relate to a man I never truly understood, let alone try and make amends. What would've happened if I never met him? What would've happened if I never learnt about him?

Whatever happened to the kid who met you, who didn't know you, who didn't understand what you were doing there, yet seemed so happy to see you. Those were the days where you probably were glad to be a dad. To God knows who, because I don't remember it well enough.

And where was that man when I was born, right? Yet where was that man when I was already here, getting tests done. But where was that man when I was already a teen, filled with heartbreak and regret.

Where was that man when I became an adult and I knew that I would never be the same again?

How could a father look at his kid and expect them to follow his every instruction with no explanation — it is beyond me, I tell you that much.

Let every sip of alcohol that burns my throat remind me of everything my father isn't, and let the words that leave his mouth scar my skin with venom, until the end of time.

I am his replica, a shell of a man who I will never be until I get over the feelings of impending doom that surround me when he speaks.

And they say you need to break the cycle, but I don't think I can if all I feel when I look at my own father is dread.

And no, dad, I've never shot something with a gun. I've never felt the taste of blood in my mouth after a fight.

I don't know who I'd be without you in my life, yet I don't know who I am with you here either.

Sometimes I sit on my bed, on the bed you helped build, in the room you made for me, in a house you made for a better future.

I sit and wonder — why aren't you a good dad?

Am I a bad son? Was I not enough of a daughter to you? Could've been more of your kid if I knew. But even then, you seemed to never accept anything I had to say.

Blood runs thicker than water, family is the only one there for you, you can't trust anyone but your family, you can't trust your friends more than your family — and yet we're both here, one and the other.

I am like you and you are like me, but I am not you, and you're not me.

I have your birthmark on my skin, the way you lie on my mind, my temper on my hands, your strength in my veins, your anger in my soul.

And the resentment in my heart, dad. The resentment you must've held against your own father your whole life.

I lost all respect for you the day I stood at the dinner table and stared at you for an hour straight while eating cold pasta with a pinch of salt, after you took my silence for defiance.

There wasn't much respect for you left in me before that, let alone any of it having remained nowadays.

Maybe I'm not strong like you think I am, or maybe I am too self aware to want to be like you.

You're not my hero, you're not even a hero.

'Father' is the title you got without deserving it. Your name is the only thing that can define you.

The world is cold, and you make it colder, dad.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Cry Baby // Ethan Torchio // Playist Fic

words // 1244

warnings // angst angst angst, mentions of struggling with mental illnesses but nothing graphic, but also fluffy caring Ethan

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. aghhhh this is the first fic on my little playlist thingy omg and i am excited although this is v angsty oops. If you don't know what this is supposed to be, i have a playlist tagged on my masterlist, you can send in a song from there or an entirely different one and I use that song, the lyrics and the feeling its music gives me to write a fic.

song is cry baby by the neighbourhood

also, maybe im projecting or maybe im affected by fallon carrington singing her wedding vows lol. also the photo of ethan here, sooooo cute

request // nope

summary // Reader has a hard time trusting people. When Ethan comes into their life it get’s worse. Reader is preparing for unavoided heartbreak but Ethan just might change their mind heart.

They were too stuck in their own thoughts for this relationship. Maybe it started at the wrong time or it was the perfect time but they had the wrong mind. They felt like a narcissist, making everything about them, while having a hard time hearing his side.

He was perfect, too perfect to ever be in this relationship, and maybe that thought scared them. Living around people who only cared about themselves, people who never cared how much they hurt Y/N, they were afraid to admit they might be doing the same to him.

They had not been together for long, only a few months, but the man acted as if he knew them forever. He did not care if they knew each other for a month or five, he was not willing to let them suffer alone. There were the two am panic attacks, calling Ethan at that time, waking him from his sleep, crying about the inability to calm their mind and sleep. He never complained. Or the days he spend at their house, Y/N having a hard time getting off bed, the depressive episodes hitting a little too hard; Ethan spend those days rubbing their back, making sure that they were alright.

Maybe that is what drove Y/N to be defensive, maybe their mind was alarmed by the man’s caring behavior -something so unfamiliar yet needed for them- that they felt defensive every time he was around. Maybe they spoke too much, and they thought the man would be scared away from them. “I’m not going away, Y/N, not for a long time, not at all if it’s on my hand,” he’d say after every fight, when Y/N would say yet another thing they did not mean. He was just too perfect.

“I really meant what I said that, Y/N,” he all but whispered to his lover. “I do love you.”

“Don’t say that, Ethan. How do you even know, it’s too soon!” Excuses, excuses, excuses and more excuses to plain and simple sabotage to themselves.

“You just know, when you know, amore, and I do.”

They could not look at his eyes anymore, afraid that with just one glance from the man their tears would fall, their guards would fall. And, if they let the guards fall even for a moment, it made them vulnerable to twice the heartbreak. So their eyes stayed glued to the floor, never leaving or daring to think about looking elsewhere. Every other place felt like a danger zone.

“You don’t have to say it back, amore, but you can not expect me not to.”

The fear never left, the fear that the young man was lying. He could not actually feel that way, could he?

Just as Y/N spiraled into yet another anxiety attack, there he was again with his soothing words and his soft touch on their face, his breath so close and so fresh hitting their face. “I’ve got you, it’s ok, follow my breath baby, come on, you are doing amazing, that’s it…” It did not take long for them to calm down a bit. Maybe it was the fact that a person finally respected their emotions rather than getting offended by them, but they felt safe even if only for a moment. “I’m here, I love you.”

It kept happening, over and over and over again. The man would profess his love but his love was not ready to believe him. It got him exhausted. He did not mind waiting for them to say the words back, he understood their past and their pain and how hard it is to vocalize something you feel. What he did mind was their active refusal to believe him, so it was the time to confront them.

“Hey, Y/N, do you have a moment?” If a single phrase could put their mind in a frenzy it was this one. The words could not form so they simply nodded their head, moving towards the sitting man.

“Look, Y/N, I-”

“If you are to break up with me just do it,” they said, the words leaving their mouth before even getting the chance to be filtered. They did not want to say that, hell they simply did not want Ethan to break up with them, but the fear was impossible to be hidden.

“What?! Amore, are you even listening to yourself?” He was exasperated. How could Y/N possibly think that, even now, after almost a year together. It hurt the man, it hurt him how much they refused to open up but it also hurt him that someone caused that fear to them before.

“I know what is happening, Ethan. I know I am hurting you with my inability to say those stupid words back. I’ve heard what you said to Victoria the other night -I did not mean to (!)-” “Hey, hey, let’s pause for a second there, amore. I’m not breaking up with you, that is not the problem. But, if you really heard what I said to Vic that night you would not be saying what you are,” he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, holding his lover’s face between his palms, “I’ve told you countless times I love you, and I will never take that back. I know you do, too. You don’t say it but you show it, but my love, the issue is not the words. The issue is you don’t believe me.”

Y/N was left speechless, not knowing what to say to the man besides that he is right. They’ve been having a really hard time believing that they even slightly deserve this love, the love that the Italian drummer in question has given them more than enough of. He was so kind, so caring, so loving that the more the relationship progressed the harder they found it to believe in his words.

“You can’t possibly truly love me, Ethan,” Y/N said calmly, tears in their eyes, mostly from anger, anger targeted at their mind.

“Then why are you even with me, Y/N? Huh? If you don’t believe that why are we together for almost a year now?!” The high volume of his voice was a stark contrast to the soft and collected tone he usually had, but his emotions were starting to take over and it was utterly obvious at this point.

Y/N did not know what to do, being left speechless for the second time in less than two minutes. Their mind raced for an excuse, a reason as to why they kept being with him if they really did not believe him, until the answer came to them and it was like a lightbulb going off: “Because I know that I love you.”

It came out almost as a whisper, as if the words were trying to not be heard. It was a strain of their voice, a sudden sob accompanying the words that broke Ethan’s heart. His love, his sweet, sweet love, the person he could not stop yearning for no matter how close they were… they were hurt, afraid of being loved - or more so afraid of being lied to. Ethan pulled Y/N into his arms, hands rubbing comforting cycles, lips letting the sweetest of nothings to come out.

“It’s ok, it’s alright, I got you, I’m here, I’m holding you, I am not leaving, I love you.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

[bcdwhcre]

“Betrayal,” Pt. 2 Levi x Reader

Summary: after being tortured and accused for a crime you didn’t commit, it changed you in ways you didn’t think was possible

Warnings: none, maybe like a bit of torture

PART ONE

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.

.

It’s been a few weeks since the incident with the MPs, your wounds have healed into scars and everything was now fully healed.

The few scars on your face had made you insecure and felt as if they were ugly. The scar on your cheek, the one below your lips and one on your forehead. They weren’t all that big but to you it felt like they were huge.

Levi had assured you time and time again that the scars made you look just as beautiful but you couldn’t help but get flashbacks every time you looked at any of your scars that were on your body.

The way your blood would boil at the constant reminders of what they did to you. The way you wanted to murder all of them in cold blood, it made your skin hot just thinking about it.

Your nightmares had continued, every night to be exact. They never stopped, they were a constant cycle over and over and over.

Levi has tried his best to be your support system and even though he’s noticed a few changes in your behavior, he assumed you were fine since you continued being your clingy and affectionate self when you were around him.

But deep down you had a huge amount of rage and hatred that wanted to spill out of your body. You’ve kept everything inside and locked away, only for his sake and to not worry him any longer.

But one night you laid in bed beside Levi, his arm tightly around your waist and his breathing fanning over the nape of your neck as he slept peacefully.

Your mind was clouded and you suddenly forgot about everything, your mind set on one thing- the military police.

You had slipped out of bed carefully, sneaking out of the base in your hood and ODM gear as you tried to get your mind off of things as you flew through the quiet empty town, settling on top of a roof.

You look down at your reflection in the blade, your fingertips just barely brushing over your scars and suddenly your mind had switched to defensive mode like you were a robot.

The way your feet had moved without even realizing and you snuck into one of the MPs houses, the one that had caused you the most pain.

Your head had tilted, watching him sleep. He looked peaceful for such a coward, you were sick just looking at him. When you walked closer, the floorboard creaking just loud enough to wake him up and you pointed the blade at his face.

“Don’t make a sound or else this will be going straight through your neck.” You threatened, his eyes wide and full of fear.

He stared at you, instantly recognizing your face, you weren’t hard to remember especially considering you were a scout dating the famous Captain but the main reason why he knew you is because he spent so much time torturing you.

“What do you want?” He said barely above a whisper, his lips quivering as he spoke.

“What do I want? Hm, what do I want? How about some fucking peace.” You started off, your feet making their way closer to where he laid and you ran the blade down to his chest.

“For once, I don’t want to fucking think about the cowards who punished me for nothing. Who tortured me to no end because they assumed. What a bunch of fucking idiots that people put their trust in to protect them, huh?” You laughed at his face, pressing the blade just enough to draw blood and he winced but shut his mouth when you stood in front of him over the bed.

“Is this some kind of sick revenge fantasy that you have? You think you’re going to get away so easily?”

“Yes and yes. Unlike you, I know how to hide a body.” You whispered the last part, in an instant you flung your blade and sliced it through his throat like butter, watching the blood gush out, splattering everywhere in the room and hearing his gasps for breath.

“Have fun in hell.” You pushed him down on the bed, watching the life drain from his eyes.

After you were done cleaning the mess you had made, you snuck back inside the base and went inside the bedroom where Levi still slept. You glanced down at your bloody clothes and cursed to yourself as you dug through the drawers for some clean clothes.

“Y/N?” You froze, your eyes wide and your hands already beginning to shake as you heard him shuffling behind you.

“Stop.” You said, making him stop from getting up off the bed and he rubbed his eyes as he tried to focus them on you.

“Why? What are you doing?” He leaned over, turning on the bedside lamp and before you could say anything, the light was on and shined up the room clearly.

You hung your head low, your back facing him but he noticed the spots of blood on your clothes and instantly ran to where you were, thinking you were injured.

When he flung you around, he stopped in his spot and stared down at the bloody clothes you wore and his eyes moved up to meet your gaze.

“What- what happened? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Why is there blood on you?”

Within seconds, tears started streaming down your face and he grabbed onto you, embracing you in a tight hug. He knew deep down what you had done but he didn’t want to speak up about it, all he did was comfort you.

As your mind was set back to the harsh reality of what you did and what happened, you couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder and listen to him mumbling soft words in your ears, reminding you just how precious you truly are.

“It’s okay, look at me.” He cupped your cheeks, brushing the tears away and stared down at your eyes, full of fear and emptiness.

“It’s okay, I’ll clean everything up and no one isn’t going to know a thing, alright? This will be our secret.” He whispered, the pained expression on his face had made you want to die- the last thing you wanted to do was drag Levi into your mess.

“I already got rid of everything except this outfit.” You managed to stumble out between your sniffles, making him nod his head.

“Okay good, take them off and throw them in a bag. I’ll burn them tomorrow, okay?” He tried to be as soft as possible, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head.

Your tears had stopped but your red puffy eyes continued to stare at him as he helped take off your clothes, throwing them in a bag and you sucked in a sharp breath.

-

The next day had rolled around quick, you had stayed in bed from the overbearing guilt you felt and Levi was happy to take the day off again and help you deal with it, trying his best to keep you happy.

He kept you in his arms, your head on his chest and his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as you stared at the wall, deep into thought.

“I want them all dead, Levi.” You said without even realizing what had fell from your lips, his eyes glancing down at you and he nodded.

“I know, I want them dead too, believe me.” He brushed the strands of hair back from your face and he caressed your cheek.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, it isn’t fair. I just wanted them to feel the way I did and I just wanted this overbearing pain to leave my body and it did while I watched him die, I felt relieved.” You admitted, your sad eyes meeting his and he completely understood.

The amount of people Levi had killed in his past has been way too many, the pain and the guilt weighing him down but the way he felt better when he got rid of the people who didn’t deserve to live- it made him feel somewhat normal.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll always support you.. you know how many people I’ve killed? You’re not getting rid of me.” He chuckled, making you smile up at him and thought about the times he had gone off the deep end.

“If you need help with the rest of the guards, I’ll do it.” He fully admitted, his thumb rubbing over the scar on your cheek.

“Why would I want to drag you further into this?”

“You’re not. You’re my world, I’m not going to let you go through it alone. I’ll kill them all.” He shook his head, pressing his lips to your forehead then pulling back to look at you before he spoke again.

“No matter what.”

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Here’s part two to betrayal like y’all having been askinnnnng. Hope you enjoyed it.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[heap-ass]

The War Finally Ends, the Snail Has Come

The Snail, when immortality finally comes to an end:

“I’ve been wondering when you’d arrive, old friend”

There we stood, face to face. After years playing a game of chase. Though the sands of time did nothing to change us, you could see the years behind both of our eyes. We were locked in a seemingly endless cycle, but I was ready to end it.

“We've been at this for so long, I was wondering if you’d ever give up the chase. But I know now that you could never. I’m the one who locked you into this endless game of cat and mouse”

I laughed, but it sounded dry and tired. I wished that the years that had passed had at least done something to me, proving that I had come this far. But I still looked the same as I did all those years ago when I made that deal. I was so young and greedy, not thinking of the consequences of taking his deal.

“At this point, I’m not sure how long it’s been, old friend. I stopped counting after the first 10,000 years. I bet you never stopped, always counting the seconds until this endless cycle finally stopped. I’m honestly still surprised I lasted this long. I should have known though, immortal can only mean one thing”

“I just wish I had known how the world would end before I got the chance to truly feel happy.

I gazed up at the endless cosmos. It was so different from the sky I gazed upon back a few millennia, or even the one I saw before the deal. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought before hot tears ran down my face.

“Do you miss the old sky? I bet you do, for you could never forget. Could you?”

I felt the burden of expectation from my old friend, he never wanted this. He never wanted to chase me until I took my final breath. My chest tightened, I’ve been so cruel keeping him like this.

“All this time, I think all I was searching for was true happiness, or maybe someone I truly loved. I was yearning for something that I had never felt before. But everyone I have ever loved is gone. My parents, every one of my past lovers, all my friends”

I glanced back at him, not afraid to put my tears on display. I realize now as the world comes crashing down around me, that I have wasted my time here. Even now as I will soon be left with nothing but me and him, I still yearn for that feeling I had been searching for.

Then it clicked.

I had already found it.

“You know old friend, I’ve just realized what I had been looking for”

I paused to look down at him, he was still making his endless journey towards me. But I could feel his desperation, the emotion brimming at his eyes as he knows he is almost there, that he is almost free.

“All this time I’ve been searching for someone who would never leave my side. And I was so caught in the fight against you and the sand of time, that I never realized you were the true company I was searching for”

I laughed. It was ripe now and full of emotion. All the emotions I had been searching to fulfill in another. I laughed till the tears that had paused flowing came rushing back.

I wrapped my arms around myself and threw my head back. Is this what it’s like to finally feel fulfilled? To finally be given the ecstasy of relief, finding the thing you spent your entire life looking for? I could have sworn I saw him pause for a moment, as if he understood what I was feeling, as if he too was searching for that connection that all humans seek. We stood for a moment, both still for the first time.

“I have seen empires rise and fall, I have made empires fall and I have built them. I have loved and lost the ones I loved. I have been the cause of someone’s loss and I have been the reason for one to love. But I think I’ve been here too long”

I took one last look at my oldest friend and extended my hand, ready for my time to come. I knew the end would be more painful than anything I could ever imagine.

But I was ready.

“You can kill me, you don’t deserve to suffer any longer”

The snail, my first enemy, my last friend looked up at me. I liked to think it was smiling. Thanking me for letting this end.

He strode forward once more, moved by the promise of release. I like to think he knows that this will be his end as well, for he will have no one else to chase. No one else exists anymore.

With his final stride I felt his cool skin hit my skin. Closing my eyes I took a breath, ready for the agony to begin.

But nothing came.

I opened my eyes to see the snail sitting utop my hand. I stood and brought him up. I could feel my years coming back to me, but he was making it painless. I gave a final view of the cosmos, as both of our bodies faded and fell into dust, settling into the cosmos and ending the lifelong war.

[mittensmorgul]

it’s a bummer to see you can’t enjoy the ending. I hope someday you can come around it it. It wasn’t perfect but it didn’t nuke its integrity. i think the heart of the show really shines through and it’s a shame that it’s not being appreciated bc there’s so much shipping drama 😣

Hi there!

I... first of, I really need people to understand this... the travesty of the finale for me has almost nothing to do with “shipping drama.”

Yes, I see the wild conspiracy theories flying around, and I’m honestly concerned for some of those folks and hope they can find a way to make peace with this in whatever way they can, because we aren’t likely to ever get a better answer than that this is legitimately the ending that Dabb thought was best, despite years of us seeing the best of his writing choices and guiding Sam, Dean, and Cas to grow past the roles that Chuck would’ve forced them to fulfill, and that at the end it fell flat because he couldn’t actually come up with a better ending than “this was always their destiny, free will is a lie, and these characters had nothing outside of the revenge quest they’d been raised for since birth and manipulated into over and over for the entertainment of a vengeful god.”

I can see how “surface level” viewers would feel that this one basic narrative point was satisfying, that Sam and Dean had grown beyond their own hopeless cycle of self-sacrifice that had driven the narrative for so many years. The fact that they both acknowledged that they should allow their stories to end in that way was satisfying... but only in the shallowest and most detached read of the narrative. Like, is this really the ONLY thing these two characters learned in the last 15 years? If so, that is BEYOND depressing af.

And even THAT message lost all narrative weight when the two of them were once again reunited in death, as if nothing else had ever mattered in their lives. As if neither of them had ever outgrown the codependency that had driven so many of those previous self-sacrifices and refusals to let go of each other even in death.

So yeah, in the absolute most basic sense, I suppose I can see how casual viewers or people who aren’t actually invested in these characters could find that at least narratively coming back to a starting point.

But narratives don’t actually work that way, and that’s not the point of watching fifteen years of story develop in between.

This story wasn’t JUST about Sam and Dean needing to accept that death might be okay actually.

This story was also about free will, fighting for humanity as a whole but also their OWN humanity and self-identities. In Dean’s case, the absolutely transformative growth from feeling like nothing but a hammer, a killer, a tool to be used. And then less than an episode and a half later, after finally accepting that truth into his heart and using it to defeat the original creator and reclaim the story of his own life for himself... he gets pied in the face after flippantly talking about his destiny and having no choice, and then three scenes later he literally dies impaled on a great big nail... like a hammer...

So I would kindly ask folks who feel satisfied by that shallowest possible takeaway of this episode, and maybe invite folks to look just under that surface. Try to understand why loads of us will NEVER feel satisfied with this ending, and why it truly does feel like the most hopeless version of the story. Like even in defeating Chuck, they could never be allowed to own their own stories and what happened to them after that point was just a twisted version of the “destiny” that drove Chuck’s entire plotline for them anyway.

Please understand where we’re seeing this as horrifically painful irony rather than some beautiful circular narrative about letting go.

For a lot of us, the shipping stuff would’ve been the cherry on top of the sundae. We would’ve been happy with a scoop of plain vanilla, though. We would’ve been happy for anything that honored the journey to freedom, and the choice at any sort of a different life of their own making than literally falling back on a nail fighting off one of John’s unresolved hunts and a vampire who had literally never been named in canon before, yet who Dean instantly recognized somehow... 

but sure, for those of us who felt that “the heart of the show” was all the stuff that the finale actually erased-- that “family don’t end in blood,” and that this was actually not a show about just two brothers but the love of their found family and coming to terms with the choices they actually HAD made for themselves versus the narrative that Chuck kept centering them in DESPITE what they would choose for themselves, the finale basically told us no, everything you ever found of value in this story actually meant nothing. It told us that Chuck’s story for them was their only truth in the end, and their only freedom was to be found in death.

Please, I am begging people, stop trying to gaslight us that this was some beautiful ending. Maybe think for a second that “your read” of the narrative that allows you to find peace with the ending is not what we saw and loved about this story for the 326 episodes leading up to this finale.

And please try to understand that we were not wrong to see the entire narrative through this lens. Because we were literally validated IN CANON, and told that we understood the depth of the story and the characters just fine, actually. There’s literally ONE episode of the entire series that burns it all down in a bewildering pile of wtf. And that’s #327. That throws that entire read out the window to well actually us all back into Chuck’s literal ending... This was literally the ending Chuck wanted to force them to enact for him, and it’s what ended up happening even after they defeated him-- the ultimate Big Bad of the entire series should’ve been defeated, but instead he pulled off one final victory over the entire story.

Becky: No. You can't-- Chuck: I did. Becky: Y- This is just an ending. Chuck: Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna get there, but I know where I'm goin'. Becky: B-But it's so... dark. Chuck: But great, right? I can see it now -- "Supernatural: The End". And the cover is just a gravestone that says "Winchester". The fans are gonna love it. Well? Becky: It's awful! Horrible. It's hopeless. You can't do this to the fans. What you did to Dean? What you did to Sam? Chuck: There, see? It's making you feel something. That's good, right?

and

Dean: Well, what now? You're not gonna dust us. Chuck: Oh, yeah? Why not? Dean: Because you're holding out. For your big finish. Yeah, we know about your galaxy-brained idea, how you think this story is gonna go. Sam got a little look into your draft folder. Chuck: Sam's visions -- they weren't drafts. They were memories. My memories. Other Sams and other Deans in other worlds. But guess what. Just like you, they didn't think they'd do it, either. But they did. And you will, too. Dean: No. Not this Sam. And not this Dean. So you go back to Earth 2 and play with your other toys. Because we will never give you the ending that you want. Chuck: We'll see.

And even in DEFEAT Chuck thought he understood these characters, thought that having rendered him powerless they would finally take their revenge and kill him, but they didn’t, because he never actually understood these characters at all. And the story he tried to force them into from day one was never about THEM, it was about HIM. 

And then Dean gets like two whole days of freedom and choice and is apparently incapable of making any of the choices that don’t throw him immediately back into Chuck’s favorite story. Like none of that resolution in the previous episode meant anything at all. He even SAYS it in the finale:

Dean: Yeah, no. I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away. Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.

And then two scenes later the show gives us the Nelson Muntz HA HA and Dean is no longer living, and Sam is left to carry on as a shell of himself and wander off into Blurry Wife Land to devote any even remotely content moment of the rest of his years to raising a  Replacement Dean to fill the void, and is never able to pick up the pen to write anything better of his own life than Chuck would’ve dealt him in the first place.

So I’m glad that top-layer takeaway is sustaining and enough for you. It wasn’t, and will never be enough for the rest of us.

What was actually real in all of this? We were.

Until we weren’t.

And that’s honestly a shit message to be pushing on people in the wake of it all. So please stop.

I should actually thank you for the kind intent with which your message is phrased, but that doesn’t make it feel less hilariously awful. Though I chose this one to reply to as the least insulting of all the messages currently in my inbox on this subject. So thanks for that, at least.

[ageof9thhouse]

Signs in the Eighth House

Just as the number 8, the 8th house is where one’s karma lies. In the broader sense, this karma could be anything, hence the reason for this house to be called “mysterious”.  It is not exactly known to the person where their karma comes from or where it is going. Since it is the opposite of the 2nd house, where one’s parents’ love and care for each other is specified, the 8th house symbolises the trigger point which caused that love or relationship in general. Meaning, the sexual and the passionate energy. The 2nd house is the comfort zone of people and the relationship with the tangible environment. Meanwhile the 8th house is the psychology, the relationships between the heart and soul and the karma carried out through the parents. The planet Pluto is the ruler of this house. Pluto, in Greek Mythology, is known as the God of the Underworld, Hades. Hades was the first son of Kronos and the first to be swallowed by him. Together with his siblings they banished their father and with Zeus and Poseidon, they drew lots to see who would rule each realm… Hades got the underworld fittingly as his name means “the unseen one”. He was also known as the God of wealth because all the precious metals buried deep in the earth were in his kingdom. Hades is the ruler of the dead but he isn’t death itself. Thus, while he “drinks tears like wine” he does not kill anyone. He is simply the host of the dead and the torubled souls. His realm is a place of freedom from the pain of the world and his Queen, Persephone offers rebirth and a blessed afterlife. But we all know that he kidnapped her even though she fell in love with him later on (a case of Stockholm Syndrome). Hades, even though one of the more humble of the Gods when he wanted something he made sure he got it. Together with his queen they represent life and death and the cycles of nature —and the 8th house represents the transformations we are bound to go through no matter how painful. In the end we rise from the ashes better and richer (soul-wise) than ever. Self-mastery involves shadow work with your lower drives. If you fail to master this energy, it will master you. In other words, the unconscious will run your life from behind the scenes and work itself out through fate. This often manifests as obsessions and compulsions and events over which you have no conscious control which can be seen in one’s 8th house.

♈︎Aries / Mars in the 8th House:

Aries/Mars here is in his big brother’s house so he does not feel too unwelcome here maybe feels a little clumsy not knowing how to deal with such power all of a sudden. The person with this placement is ever seeking ways of personal transformation. Starting with new projects or just anything new is their superpower. However, not being able to finish those passion projects is the cost of this power. When accepting the fact that chaos is inevitable and control is an illusion the person confronts their inner demons, only then the transformation really happens. Either one of the parents might have Aries in their charts (rising or sun). The karma coming from the parents is for the person to become fearless in the face of the new and taking the lead. After a psychological breakdown, the person is completely anew and fearless to start from fresh. Vengeance though can become the main drive and that is when the person needs to be careful. People with this aspect might attract a lot of Aries or Mars energies into their lives - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad. Obsessions might include proving oneself to be the best at something and forcing other people to do whatever they think is the right thing. When they master the need to be always in control they are able to manifest good things into their lives.

♉︎Taurus / Venus (Day Chart) in the 8th House:

When the opposites fill the other one’s place it puts it out of balance. One’s mission is to maintain the peace which that balance is lacking. Taurus/Venus (Day) in a person’s 8th house may indicate that the superpower of this person is to make others feel comfortable and laid back. They put others at ease. The cost for this power is that the chart owners themselves feel uneasy and disturbed by outside interference constantly. This karma can only be eased down once the person starts to value and secure themselves. People-pleasing is something they are good at but not something that they necessarily should be doing. Since there is no sense of feeling secure or comfortable coming from within these people may obsess over material things in order to feed their starving subconscious. The more these people value things outside of their own being, the more backlash they receive from their inner selves.  The karma coming from the parents is for the person to fall truly in love with themselves and care for their own well-being. Maybe as a child, they did not feel worthy of their parents. Perhaps one of the parents had Taurus in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element and they might also attract a lot of Taurus energy into their relationships - from these energies a karmic bond is established good or bad. However, overdoing this self-love once it is achieved obviously will have its consequences. Laziness and over-indulgence in the good things life has to offer will bite them back later on. When they find a balance between keeping their own peace meanwhile putting others' minds at ease as well, they will master the power of serenity.

♊︎Gemini / Mercury in the 8th House:

With this placement, there is this feeling of the “magician” going back to the tarot cards. A master manifestor once the person appreciates the duality within. In Buddhism, this is called “shunyata” the emptiness of inner and outer dharmas. Nothing can exist without everything else also existing. People with this placement must understand that we exist within a web of relationships and once it is well understood one must not misuse this power otherwise the consequences are hard to overcome. These people are blessed with powerful thoughts but depending on the intention set out through these thoughts their own manifestations can get the best of them. A great deal of cleansing of the subconscious is required for this placement since Mercury is a trickster who loves to challenge its subjects just for the sake of it.  There are great power and karma carried through one’s words. These people can have an immense effect on other people’s subconscious as well. Through the exchange of thoughts, they blend with other people and if they did not master this power of theirs they can get lost in those people’s minds.  The karma coming from the parents is for the person to watch out what kind of intention they put out to the universe through their interaction with other people. Perhaps one of the parents had Gemini in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Mercury energy into their relationships - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad. These people also gotta be careful about obsessive thought patterns and delving too deep into the matters. The thing they are most passionate about is certainly understanding the unknown but some things are just simply beyond our comprehension

♋︎Cancer / Moon in the 8th House:

Moon is our mother, sense of security and our ancestors. There is a great deal of karma coming from the person’s past. They are deeply connected to it and they are very curious about it as well. Their power is to build such strong connections with people and giving them their sincerity. The cost of this gift though is the fact that most people they give this nurturing energy to might have had banished them in their life before. There is a great fear of abandonment coming from being too attached to people since they have had been left behind before (perhaps by the mother herself). These people might find the solution in never attaching to people ever again but in fact they must build a strong intuition in order to allow the right people in their lives. Otherwise, a sinister feeling inside will sprout because they do not feel the same warmth coming from other people that they think they themselves expose. Forgiveness is a big theme here. They have to learn to forgive the past and not devolve too much into it. Compassion will be their best friend when it comes to fighting off their inner demons which especially come up when they feel the most vulnerable. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to not treat their emotions as if they are burdens and learn to forgive their past troubles and maybe even the parents themselves. These people should learn to not to obsess over the past. Perhaps one of the parents had Cancer in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Cancerian energy into their relationships - from these energies, a karmic bond is established good or bad.

♌︎Leo / Sun in the 8th House:

When Apollo comes to give light to a house that wants to stay in the dark, tensions are high. These people may want to keep their own self identity under shadows. Something significant may have had appeared in their childhood which caused the child to grow too soon and as an adult now the child within is suppressed down to the subconscious. Their own psychology is a matter these people are highly interested in understanding. They like to put light on things that are hidden from them even when they are not ready to see things as clearly as they are. They like to think of themselves as strong people who can handle any psychological or emotional burden which they are and it is their power but they tend to push things too far to the point of they can no longer handle the load. They have got to learn to let other people in so that they can ease the heaviness of their own emotional baggage. Once they let the child within to come out and play they are bestowed with very strong creativity and positivity. Free self-expression will be their escape from their own darker demons and allowing themselves to play. These people are obsessed with other people’s talents and the way they carry themselves - but once they let go of their control on emotions and let their joy run free, they will see themselves become just that. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to take care of the child within. Maybe the parents were not the best at allowing the kids to be kids and asked too much of them hence they had to grow up way too early. Perhaps one of the parents had Leo in their sun or rising and could not manage that energy in its right element. People with this placement might also attract a lot of Leo energy into their relationships - from these energies a karmic bond is established good or bad.

♍︎Virgo / Ceres in the 8th House:

Deep within, there is a lot of anxious energy haunting the person of the chart which strives to be recognized. They tend to over-analyze everything that is happening but will most likely keep this to themselves since they do not like to be viewed “concerned” by other people. They are obsessed with solving problems to the point of disturbance in their own psychology. They have immense powers of healing and finding solutions but the cost of this power is an out of control feeling of being uneasy or unsafe. Through meditation and being open to spiritual matters they can ease this feeling but these are highly skeptical and practical people. They tend to stay in their own way of their journey to mindfulness. They are fascinated by other people’s concerns and problems that they tend to forget their own which only makes their personal matters worst. They have great karma when it comes to dealings of allowing things to be and not interfering with them. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to take care of their own well being and consciousness. Perhaps, as a child, they weren’t properly taken care of by their parents and the roles were reversed in a way. They wanted to fix or heal their parents their whole life but maybe did not get the chance to do that so they are passionate about doing this for other people. One of the parents might have Virgo as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Virgo energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♎︎Libra / Venus (Night Chart) in the 8th House:

People with this placement have got a lot of subtle but potent influence on other people through one on one interactions. They have the power of attracting anyone into their lives and easing their emotional burdens as well. The cost of this superpower though is that if they are not careful with their intentions about the core reason why they want to have an influence on this particular person they might take on their bad karma as their own and obviously no one wants that. Each relationship transforms the person for the better but sometimes the worst. They might feel an intense bond with almost everybody in their lives and this will take a toll on them psychologically. They are also likely to have people obsess over them to point of claiming ownership over them. And another theme with an obsession with these people is that they themselves might obsess over being liked by everyone. They are passionate about peace and harmony and are willing to do anything in order to maintain it even if it means sacrificing one’s free will.  The karma coming from the parents is for the person to practice and teach good manners and bring harmony into relationships. Perhaps, the parents were in an inharmonious relationship in which the two fought a lot without ever trying to bring peace into the situation between them. One of the parents might have Libra as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Venusian energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♏︎Scorpio / Pluto in the 8th House:

The lord of the underworld here is in his full power and in the comfort of his home he is not willing to hold anything back. Scorpio is in search of emotional power and the mysteries of life and death. This cycle between the two is neither good or bad, - it’s the part of nature that demands change and evolution. And the biggest thing with Hades’s character is that no matter what you cannot negotiate with him. The biggest karmic lesson with this placement is to surrender. These people’s power is about using their soul’s energy to transform the self through a confrontation with the powers of the unconscious. The goal is to overcome death and dissolution and avoid falling back into chaos and unconsciousness. Not the easiest of the tasks but the rewards are definitely worth it as Hades is also the Lord of the riches. To enter the darkness and heal the split in your psyche – the wound at the heart of being human – the pain of being conscious is the lesson one taken over from their parents. Perhaps, the parents were in denial of their subconscious’ scream for help and kept their demons hidden away which only caused them to go down a road of spiral. One of the parents might have Scorpio as their sun or rising sign and the chart owners tens to attract a lot of Scorpio energy into their relationships for them to learn their karmic lessons.

♐︎Sagittarius / Jupiter in the 8th House:

The nature of Sagittarius is to be free and in this placement that is the request from the chart owner’s psychology. These are very passionate people who are the rulers of their own territories. They have the gift to find their way to enlightenment and higher knowledge of the truth once they open up their horizons. The biggest karma for them is that it is hard for them to open their minds to things but once they do they are ready to be fired into the future. They are obsessed with the idea of living life to its fullest but there is a tendency to overdo it. Too much of the unrealistic optimism results in facing the harsh reality of the world which leads them to a dark place where they feel trapped within their own minds. They tend to curse their own fate and shun the universe whenever their high expectations are not met. They have to come in peace with the reality of being human in an imperfect world.  But the pain of the wound creates wisdom if they can accept and work with it. The karma coming from the parents is for the person to discover the truth of a human’s immortal soul that releases us from the wheel of birth and death – the quest for enlightenment. Perhaps the chart owner comes from a lineage of teachers who couldn’t finish this task.  One of the parents might have Sagittarius as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Sagittarius energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons. For them to free themselves from their emotional burdens they need to open their minds up and accept the good and the bad universe has to offer and offer help to others to learn their lessons.

♑︎Capricorn / Saturn in the 8th House:

When the sign of harsh lessons and the house of karmic lessons unite their powers the person with the placement meant to go through a lot but in the end, they come out of this struggle of perfecting a human as a dextrous being. The native goes through a lot of challenges which require self-mastery. They crumble down to the ground and build themselves up again, each time they end up more solid and wise. The person is bestowed with great wisdom beyond their years but the universe always demands them to renew themselves so their lives and self-identity suffer from reoccurring earthquakes. They are obsessed with being the best at everything they can and in the meantime influencing other people. They might be especially obsessed with impressing their father and their own father might be their biggest competition in some extreme cases their enemy. In Greek mythology, Capricorn is the Father Time, Kronos… The one who swallowed Hades (and the rest of his children) only to be overthrown by them in the end as it was predicted. The biggest lesson for this person is that they cannot change the outcome but they are sure to be changed by the outcome. The karma these people had inherited from their parents is that the old way of things must be periodically overthrown so that life can be renewed. Perhaps the owner of the chart had parents who were too controlling and stuck in the same cycles and it is up to them to break this cycle so that progression can happen. Meanwhile, they have got to learn to build a solid structure for them so that they will not be damaged when their world is shaken up as it is their karma. One of the parents might have Capricorn as their sun or rising sign and these people tend to attract a lot of Capricorn energy into their relationships for them to learn karmic lessons.

♒︎Aquarius / Uranus in the 8th House:

People with this placement are passionate about feeling united with other people. They tend to attract a lot of friends into their lives and they themselves are very understanding friends but the cost of this is that in order to keep their social circle they tend to either conform to their needs. In order to feel like a part of the group, they know exactly what to do but this also means they often step out of their way to become a part of it. Their biggest fear being, feeling unaccepted they are very accepting of other people and when they work on their people skills these people are very good at influencing others. They are humanists with morals. Their karma will work against them when they deliberately deny these morals in order to please others. The karma they inherited from their parents is to increase in moral consciousness in other people as well as themselves of course. Perhaps the parents were oblivious to other peoples’ issues. One of the parents may have had Aquarius as their sun or rising but was not able to manage its aim of uniting the people and recognizing that all beings are interconnected. With this comes a great deal of empathy with others comes into play. The person has to learn to control this nature of an empath for it is hard for them to distinguish their own emotions and thoughts from the rest.

♓︎Pisces / Neptune in the 8th House:

People who have this placement tend to underestimate the power of their psyche and subconscious in their everyday life. If the mind is in a good state they have the power to manifest good things into their life, if it is in a bad state though, they bring hell down to earth for themselves. The universe asks of them to be conscious of their subconscious, joining of two worlds: the divine and the human. These people are creative in nature and have to take care of their inner world instead of running from it. With a power of great manifestations comes great responsibility for one’s soul journey. As the Pisces energy can be creative and imaginative, as well as dark and destructive. Lurking in the unconscious, always threatening to overwhelm the ordered structures of life. Being this close to the abyss would make anybody nervous and we all know Pisces often tries to avoid a confrontation. But the thing is the forces of the unconscious are usually only dangerous when they’re repressed or denied. And this is the karma the chart owner inherited from their parents who might have Pisces as their sun or rising but could not deal with the Piscean nature, hence it is now both the blessing and the curse (if it is not dealt with careful) of the child. The Pisces fish are a symbol of spiritual liberation, they show the happiness and freedom of the soul swimming in the waters of nirvana. There’s no need to struggle or swim against the tide. People with this placement tend to attract a lot of Piscean energies into their lives to learn and teach karmic lessons.

(Art: “Ixion Thrown into Hades” by Jules-Élie Delaunay)

[dameronology]

best friend {javier pena x reader}

summary: after finally calling it a day on a bad relationship, you turn to javier for comfort

warnings: mentions of alcohol + smoking, swearing

i was listening to best friend by rex orange county when i was writing this so i guess it’s loosely based on it? it’s definitely where the title came from. i hope you enjoy!

- jazz

Javier hated pulling all nighters - he especially hated them when it was Friday. Everyone else at the office was either going out to drink or going home to spend the evening with their families. The sounds of music and laughter that surrounded the outside of the DEA offices only acted as a reminder of how lonely he’d become; because, even if Colombia was the source of much of his grief, for others, it was their home. Their happiness and their life. Both of which, these days, seemed to be things he struggled to find

That wasn’t to say that his life completely lacked enrichment. Between the antics of you and Murphy, and the progress you were all making towards capturing Escobar, things weren’t all that bad. Especially you. He didn’t entirely know what your presence in his life meant, but it was a hell of lot. It felt like he’d finally started to see his life in colour when you were assigned the desk beside his. Your energy and your wit enriched everything, even if 99% of your relationship consisted of taking swipes at one another, 

If there was one thing he was grateful on nights like these, it was that the DEA apartment building wasn’t too far from the office. Murphy had clearly gotten home hours ago, because his car was in his spot and the lights to his unit at the front of the complex were dimmed. Your own vehicle was a few spaces over from Javi’s, terribly parked (as per usual) and barely between the white lines. At least he could take comfort in the fact that both his friends had made it home safe.

Or, you’d at least made it the front steps of the building. 

Javier almost did a double take when he saw you, a half-burnt cigarette in one hand and a completely empty bottle of wine in the other. You were slumped against the railings, eyes glued to the floor in front of you. He knew had it been a rough week - there had been a lot of bloodshed and not a lot of progress - but he hadn’t realised it had been that bad. And you would have told him, right? You told him everything. Literally everything. Probably more than you told your own damn boyfriend (who he hated - not that it was important). 

‘Jesus.’ Javi didn’t bother to offer you a greeting. 

You looked up at a him, a hazy smile playing on your face when your eyes met. ‘Agent Pena! How are you doing?’

‘You never call me that. I hate it.’ He muttered, dropping onto the stairs beside you. ‘Please don’t tell me you drove home like this.’

‘God, no.’ You snorted. ‘I drove home then went to a bar with Tom.’

‘How is he?’

‘Him? Yeah, we broke up.’ You casually shrugged. ‘So then I brought some wine and realise I left my keys.’

‘Oh, honey.’ Javi murmured. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t give me that, Jav.’ You elbowed him slightly. ‘I know you hated him.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

Javier stood up, moving the bottle aside and sticking his hand out to you. He didn’t exactly relate to what you were going through. Mostly because he didn’t get into relationships, or that he was always the one to end them. He hadn’t really known heartbreak in the conventional sense. Sure, he’d felt a pang in his chest when you first introduced him to your now ex just over a year ago, but that wasn’t loss. It was just..something he didn’t want to think about. It was a can of worms he’d been pretty good at keeping shut, and he was not going to start sorting through it at 1AM. He was far from drunk (unlike some people) but hours and hours of paperwork and chain smoking had fogged his brain. Right then, you needed a friend, and that was something he could be. Though you hadn’t shared all that much emotion together - mostly just careless banter and harmless teasing - your jobs had bonded you for life. You’d certainly witnessed a lot of twisted things, and it meant that you and Murphy were the only two people in the world who truly understood the kind of thing he dealt with. And, with all due respect to Murphy, you got on Javi’s nerves a fuck ton less. 

You tangled your fingers with his, letting him drag you up off the steps. Stumbling for a moment, you gripped onto his shirt for balance. It felt like somebody had taken a baseball bat to your head and to your stomach. Whether you wanted to chunder or faint first, you didn’t know. The only thing you could think about was the warm arms wrapping around your waist, and the feeling of Javier’s body being flush against yours as he pulled you against his side and guided you into the building. 

‘Where do you think you left your keys?’ He gently asked. He didn’t say anything when you slumped further against him, all your energy staying solely on walking and not falling. 

‘Thabar.’ You murmured.

‘Huh?’

‘The bar.’ You repeated. ‘I’ll go back in the morning. It’s fine.’

‘I don’t think you’ll be awake before midday.’ Javi chided. 

He held you there for a moment, fumbling about for his own keys, before kicking open the apartment door.

His place wasn’t bad, but it didn’t feel that far off of a show apartment, or the window of an Ikea. It was identical to yours, except you’d actually made yours homier. Javi’s, meanwhile, looked exactly as it had the day he’d moved in. None of the furniture had moved, and the television had probably been turned on a total of twice. Whilst your place was covered in photos and personally belongings, his was filled with bottles of whiskey and strewn leather jackets. He did have one photo hanging on his fridge; it was a Polaroid of him, you and Murphy, chilling out at your favourite bar. You were in the middle of them, practically hanging off their arms with a grin on your face. Javier would never let either of you actually know how much you meant to him. He couldn’t deal with the teasing. 

The next few moments were a blur of you dropping onto his sofa, hitting the leather with a thump. He tossed a warm blanket over you, before helping you kick off your shoes and taking a seat beside you. With the alcohol making you more brazen than usual, you didn’t think twice about curling against his side, and Javier didn’t think twice about letting you. He knew better than anyone that sometimes, a hug was the best medicine - so, he tossed an arm over your shoulders, pulling you towards him in a similar manner to how he had done in the hallway. The smell of his aftershave was gentle, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and the mint hand cream he insisted he didn’t use. It was just...Javi. And you loved it. 

‘Do you wanna talk about it?’ Javi gently asked, thumb rubbing circles over the bare skin on your arm.

‘I dunno what there is to say.’ You murmured. ‘I saw it coming. I definitely saw it coming but I just...I thought he was it you know. I mean, you probably don’t know because the one for you is whiskey and cigarettes-’

‘- is this an attack on me or your ex?’ He joked. 

‘Right, sorry.’ You peered up at him through hooded eyes. ‘Just hurts, y’know? Because for all his flaws, he’s probably as good as I’m ever gonna get.’

‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’ He reminded you. ‘That man never deserved you.’

‘He wasn’t that bad, Jav.’

‘Remember all the times you were in a bad mood because he was late, or because he didn’t turn up to a date?’ His brown eyes flickered, staring at the blank wall ahead. He didn’t mean to overstep, or to be protective, but it was just that it you. And that was reason enough. 

‘He was trying his best.’

‘If that’s his best, then he’s in trouble.’ He snorted. 

You groaned, flopping further down into his chest. ‘It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. I don’t need a man to survive but maybe thats why I get through them so quickly.’

‘You’re not the problem.’ Javi said. 

‘My mum always said I was too much to handle-’

‘-  you’re not.’ He cut you off. ‘If they think you’re too much, then they’re not worth your time.’

‘There’s seven billion people on the planet. There must be someone, right?’

‘You don’t need to find somebody. You’re more than enough on your own.’ He said. (What he meant to say was: you don’t need to find somebody, but it’s okay if you want me). 

‘I know.’ You murmured. 

A silence fell over you. Javier wasn’t entirely sure what to say, because every time he tried to go over the possibilities, it kept ending with him declaring that he was the one you should be with. It made sense logistically. 

You didn’t like to be looked after, but you always let him. You both had the same job, so you both understood the struggle. The spark between you two was fucking immense and there was always something to talk about. It was hard to find a single reason not to be together - except for timing. And timing was kind of everything, especially when there was so much at stake. How much of it you needed, he didn’t know. That wasn’t even calculating in the fact that it would take Javier at least thirty more cycles of convincing himself to tell you before he finally took the plunge. 

‘Thank you for helping me tonight.’ You sleepily mumbled. 

‘Always.’ Javier replied. 

‘I’m trying not to fall asleep on you-’

‘- go ahead.’ He cut you off with a soft chuckle. 

‘I appreciate you.’ 

That was the last thing you managed, before sleep completely overtook you. This was new ground for your friendship - physical touch, deep conversations, Javi teetering dangerously close on the precipice of enlightening you with his feelings. The bottom could even have the best landing ever, or the worst. Was it worth the risk? 

Javi peered down at you, completely enamoured at the sight of you quietly snoozy, hand splayed out on his chest and eyes screwed shut. This could be an everyday thing. Domesticity and closeness and you. He could feel his chest physically hurting at the feeling; at the prospect of having you. Like, actually having you. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, brown eyes flickering up to the ceiling. That was when he knew in his very soul, the answer to that question.

You were worth every risk.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || iv

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. but that was a year ago - things are different now. and you have other things to worry about.  

warnings: f!reader

wc: 2.6k

m.list | ch. 3 ↞ ch. 4↠ ch. 5

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that, Tooru?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as normal as possible.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You were sat on the edge of your bed, phone pressed to your ear and fist twisted up in your sheets. There was a chill in the air that wouldn’t have bothered you under normal circumstances.

But after those words had left your brother’s mouth, something about the room felt sharp.

“I’m the one who suggested it, aren’t I?” Tooru chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pain blossoming through the muscle. “I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with me living with one of your friends.”

“Iwa’s a good guy,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you guys have known each other for ages. He’ll look after you, I’m sure of it.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment, at a total loss of what to say.

“It’s not like he’s going to try and get in your pants or anything,” Tooru snorted.

Godzilla. The couch in your family’s entertainment room. The warmth of his lips on yours.

But you couldn’t tell Tooru about any of that. Although, the moment he’d suggested you move in with Iwaizumi almost made you crack.

By some stroke of bad luck – or perhaps as the set-up for some cosmic joke – you’d gotten into the same university as the boy you’d been so enamoured with as a seventeen-year-old. And you’d genuinely had no idea.

But it was too late to change your plans. You’d already gotten a scholarship, and you were sure you parents wouldn’t forgive you if you pulled out now. Even if your instincts were telling you to do just that.

“Have you spoken to him about this?” You asked. Perhaps this was your out. If Iwaizumi wasn’t all for it, then there was absolutely no reason for you to agree with it. Right?

“Yeah,” Tooru said. “He’s all for it.”

You frowned. Iwaizumi? Okay with this? Even though he was the one who’d decided that you needed to distance yourselves from each other?

But… it’s been a year. And he’s been a university student living in another country. A lot had probably changed for him.

A lot had changed for you.

And as much as you wanted to deny it, there were benefits to living with Iwaizumi, at least for one semester.

Moving to America is scarier than you’re willing to admit. The thought of living with an unknown roommate in a country you’d never stepped foot in before had kept you up at night a few times.

What if you hated each other? What if something went horribly, terribly wrong and you were left stranded? What if they were a creep?

At least Iwaizumi was a known quantity. One that you hadn’t necessarily left it on terrible terms one; just awkward ones.

“You still there?” Tooru’s voice shocked you back to the present moment.

“Oh, yeah,” you cleared your throat, “is his LINE still the same?”

“Sure is!”

Your throat felt dry. “I’ll call him later.”

You twisted your fists in your bedsheets, a weird knot forming in your stomach.

“Good,” Tooru hummed. “I think it’ll be good for you. You don’t need to be completely alone when you first move over there.”

Guilt twisted in your chest. You knew why he was saying that. He’d told you just how lonely those first few months in Argentina had been.

He didn’t want that for you. That’s why he’d suggested this damn roommates idea.

If only he knew.

“That’d be good,” you said. It wasn’t a lie.

Another thought sat at the back of your throat, forcing its way out.

“Tooru, I… I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”

Your voice was painfully quiet as you finally breathed life into the one fear you didn’t want to admit. You hadn’t even mentioned this to Amaya. But you knew you could trust Tooru with this – perhaps, he might even be able to say something useful.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone as gentle as he could muster. “I didn’t think I was ready, either.”

“I figured,” you grinned. For all his bravado at the airport, a few dozen follow-up phone calls had really sowed that idea in your mind.

Tooru scoffed. “Here I am, trying to be a good older brother—”

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed. “I appreciate the attempt.”

“You know, you’d think that me moving half way across the world would be enough to get you to finally be nice to me,” Tooru sighed, and you don’t need to see him to know that he was running a hand through his hair dramatically. “But alas… I’m doomed to be mistreated by my very own sister.”

“Have you considered being less dramatic?” You teased. “Then maybe I’d take you a bit more seriously.”

You held the phone away from your ear as Tooru started his tirade,

“If I’m being completely honest,” he said, his tone now much heavier than before, “I thought I was making a big mistake for a second there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Two weeks in and I wanted to run back home. I wondered if I could really do this.”

A part of your brain told you to be surprised. Another part told you that of course he’d be frightened.

Tooru is just a human, not some superhuman who’s above mortal concerns – no matter how much he tried to hide that fact.

“Turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.”

A gentle, relieved silence settled between the two of you, the only sound the distant din of traffic from Tooru’s end of the phone.

“I’m glad to hear it,” you murmured. Sincerity was rare between the two of you, but you weren’t about to pretend to be anything but relieved.

“Trust me, it’s going to be fine,” Tooru sighed. “And if it doesn’t end up working out, you’ve still got time. You’re young. And you’ve got a home to go back to.”

You searched for the comfort in those words as best you could. But you couldn’t find any. He hadn’t intended it, but within those words was a little reminder that you might fail. That you might not even come close to the brilliance that is Oikawa Tooru.

“Thanks, Tooru,” if all you could say. He’s just trying to be helpful.

“Besides, if it all goes to shit, you can join me in Argentina!” His voice was a tad more gleeful than you would’ve liked.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” you chuckled.

“Aw,” he whined, “why not?”

“You’d be such a helicopter parent.”

Tooru gasped, the sound piercing over the phone line. “I would not!”

“You would!” You laughed. “You’d meddle in everything?”

“And?” He scoffed. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes!” You protested. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Ah, well you see,” Tooru tutted. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ll always be a child to me.”

You rolled your eyes, a comfortable feeling of familiarity settling in your chest. Suddenly, your room doesn’t feel so cold. “I didn’t answer your call just to be coddled.”

“You should be used to it by now.”

“You know, whenever I start to miss you, I’m going to remind myself of this.”

“You are so mean to me!” Tooru wailed.

The bickering went on, an endless cycle of well-worn insults and epithets. But the conversation had to come to an end. You knew you couldn’t put off contacting him any longer.  

Eventually you ended the call, holding the phone to your ear for a couple of moments after it was over.

You sighed, letting it drop onto the bed. You flopped back in tandem, staring up at your roof.

Life really was just one big joke, huh?

Although, you wished you understood what the punchline was.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stared at Iwaizumi’s LINE profile a little longer than you should’ve.

It’d been a couple of hours since you’d ended your call with Tooru, and you’d only just worked up the courage.

In your defence, you hadn’t been planning on this. You’d expected to have a very different phone call with a complete stranger, deciding from a handful of phone conversations as to whether or not they were trustworthy enough to live with.

But there you were, about to call The Iwaizumi Hajime.

It’d be fine, right? That little heartbreak had happened well over a year ago now. It’s irrelevant. And you’re well and truly over it.

Not that the thought of calling him didn’t make you feel like you were about to throw up from nerves.

God, why did it feel like you were about to sit an exam?

No, you weren’t going to let your anxiety get the better of you. Not when your education was – sort of – at stake.

With a heavy sigh, you clicked the little call icon and held the phone up to your ear.

The ringing sounded like a death march.

“Hello?” Iwaizumi’s unmistakable voice crackled through your speaker.

Yeah, you definitely felt like you were about to throw up. “Hello.”

The line fell silent.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this. Maybe you should’ve just lied and told Tooru that you’d already worked out lodgings. Sure, there’d be a last-minute scramble to get something in place before your parents caught wind of your little lie and—

“How are you?” The words were a little gruff, a little awkward.

This was going to be a very long conversation. You could feel it in your bones.

“I’m alright,” you said, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “How about you?”

“I’m doing pretty good,” he said. There’s something different about his voice. Maybe it was a little deeper than when you’d last spoken? Or maybe you were imagining it.

Truth be told, you can’t really remember what he sounded like.

“That’s… good to hear,” you said, a paltry attempt at an implied olive branch.

“Yeah, uh…” He cleared his throat. He was probably scratching the back of his neck as he spoke. You hated yourself for even assuming. “Things have been going well.”

A long silence followed. A very painful silence.

A silence, you realised, that you had to break.

“What are you studying?” You asked. A nice, neutral question.

“Exercise science.” The response was immediate. Was that… relief in his voice?

“Oh, really?” You blinked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You sound surprised.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment, searching for a response. But nothing felt adequate enough. Did you really sound surprised? Why did you feel the need to defend yourself?

“I mean I…” You bit your lip, frowning. “I don’t know, I just… wouldn’t have picked that for you.”

Did he just chuckle? You could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle.

“What would you have picked for me, then?” He asked.

“I…” You racked your brain, trying to stitch together all the knowledge you had of the boy – no, the man on the other end of the phone. “I have no idea, actually.”

He distinctively chuckled that time. Damn the swell of pride in your chest.

“Why exercise science?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s the only chance I have of beating Oikawa.”

It’s so instantaneous and ludicrous that you laughed.

“That… doesn’t make much sense, but okay,” you smiled. You were well-aware of the competitive edge that ran through their friendship. Good to see that hadn’t faded, at least.

“You’ll see,” he promised. “Just you wait.”

You chuckled in response as another silence settled over the two of you.

What was there to say? What did you want to say? It’d been so long that you weren’t even sure.

“So…” Iwaizumi said, voice unusually tentative. “Oikawa told me you’re coming out here.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. That’s right. That’s the whole reason you were calling him.

“That’s a big move,” he marvelled, as if he hadn’t done the exact thing he was talking about.

“I know,” you murmured. “I’m kind of scared.”

“What of?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Perhaps your lips were looser than they should’ve been. “I just… I’ll be in a whole new country. Alone.”

“I see.” There’s something comforting about his voice. Something stable. He’d always been a good listener, hadn’t he?

“And… it gets more daunting the closer it gets.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m scared I’ll regret it.” There it was. The one fear that you hadn’t admitted to anyone else – not Amaya, not your parents, not Tooru.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked.

“I don’t know, I…” You bit your lip, a frown settling on your face.

Now you’d given that fear a voice, you understood it less. Wasn’t the opposite supposed to happen?

“Do you regret moving so far away from home?” You asked.

Iwaizumi wasn’t Tooru. He wasn’t driven by the same insatiability. He had his ambitions, yes, but he didn’t break his back trying to reach for them. Maybe, just maybe, that meant he’d be easier to understand.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Ah.” Not quite the answer you wanted to hear.

“But…” he sighed, “it’s been a good experience.”

“So… a net positive?”

“I’d say so,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of experiences I’m grateful for.”

“Right,” you nodded.

“I heard you got a scholarship,” he said.

“Did Tooru brag about that?” You groaned, running a hand down your face and bending over your knees.

“Sure did,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, biting back the urge to say, ‘it’s not a big deal.’ The last time you’d said that, Amaya had shot you quite the glare.

You swallowed roughly, looking down at your feet.

One deep breath, and it would be time.

“So…” you started, the back of your neck prickling. “Tooru said he’d spoken to you about me… potentially moving in with you?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Ah. Nice and blunt.

“Would you… be alright with that?” You asked, hands a little clammier than before. “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of just dropping you in America with nowhere to go, so… the offer’s open.”

He sounded honest, at least. Not that you had reason to believe he would be anything but.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks.” You licked your lips, trying to stop your nerves from getting the better of you. “I appreciate it,” you added, unsure of how strange that might be to say.

“Not a problem.”

You couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“I can send you the information over email,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The lease and stuff like that. Also, the address so you can actually see where it is.”

“Oh, right…” you swallowed. “Yeah, that’d be useful.”

“Alright, I’ll get that ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I need to discuss this with my parents, so I’ve got to go…”

“All good,” Iwaizumi said. “Talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, lowering the phone from your ear and tapping the red ‘END CALL’ icon.

You tossed your phone at your pillow, watching it land with a muffled ‘thump’. It pinged with a notification – probably Iwaizumi asking for your email, you realised.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

You groaned as you flopped back onto your bed for the second time that evening.

What was going on? How had you ended up in this situation? Which cosmic force had it in for you?

Everything was so confusing.

One thing was for certain, though.

Amaya’s going to kill you.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: hhhhhh thank you for your kind words about the last chapter! this one is also unbeta’d but Oh Well

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 2

Read on AO3. Part 1 here. Part 3 here.

Summary: So, like, what's the big deal, buddy?

Words: 3800

Warnings: None. Yet.

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Hello!! Firstly, thank you so much to @bastila-ren​ and @elmidol​ for listening to me talk so much about this fic, for reading the first two chapters, and helping me with their generous feedback.

Secondly, I want to thank all of you for your EXTREMELY generous response to this fic. I admit I was very nervous to post this, and still am very nervous to write it, but I can't explain how helpful it is to know that people still enjoy the story and want to read more. It's definitely a story I want to write!

Y’all have truly been too kind to me. I don't have a posting schedule, just yet--I'm hoping every week or every other week. :) Love y'all SOOOOO MUCH.

Like the smarmy bastard he was, Hux fought off a smirk. But Allegiant General Pryde gazed at you with what some might refer to as sheer, indignant horror.

Kylo Ren stopped feet from the throne, his gaze wandering your grungy hair, dirtied uniform, the cell filth on your face.

“Hm,” he said. “That’s one way to greet your Supreme Leader.”

Embers tickled your cheeks. Your Supreme Leader.

You looked at the two other men. What was on your tongue: Would you prefer I get on my knees instead?

What you ended up saying: “Uh, sorry. Sir.”

“I believe the Supreme Leader requires an apology a little more comprehensive than uh, sorry.”  Pryde stepped forward, as if to explain. “Sir, this woman was brought aboard by General Hux without prior approval.”

Kylo glanced between the older men, stare drifting to you, the darkness in his eyes reviving an animal within you that had been placed on life support. 

“Yes,” he replied. “I don’t recall providing authorization for this.”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said, “we both know your TIE has been out of commission for several cycles. I thought it prudent to--”

“You thought it prudent to ask a manager of a remote outpost to come aboard the flagship of the First Order. I assume that’s what you’re about to say.” Pryde paused, waiting for Hux’s contrition--but none came. He turned to Kylo. “Sir, again, please forgive me. Had I known he’d be bringing aboard a rim-dweller who would defy your authority, I would’ve denied his request, entirely.”

“Defiance.” Kylo’s gaze drilled you. Much like you had dreamt of something else of his drilling you. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Pryde balked. “Well, I hardly find it appropriate to address the Supreme Leader of the First Order as dude, for starters.” He spat the word onto the floor like poison. “Really, General, you and her both should be begging for his pardon.”

You swallowed, attention on Kylo, trying to hide your glee. “Please, please forgive me,” you murmured. “Supreme Leader.”

Hux cleared his throat. “My apologies as well, sir.”

“Hm.” If he’d understood your tease, he didn’t acknowledge it. You frowned. Kylo looked to the cloaked mercenaries behind you. “Escort her back to Orinda.”

Disbelief smacked you across the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

Sputtering, Hux stepped forward. “Supreme Leader--”

“You don’t belong on this vessel,” Kylo said, glimpsing you, then the cloaked figures again. “Report is postponed. Prepare the Buzzard for departure.” 

Like droids, they activated and brushed past you, stalking toward the turbolift. The Supreme Dickhead gazed at you expectantly.

“They’re not patient.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “If you think I’m leaving--”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said again. For once, you felt like both of you were stuck in the same flabbergasted pod. “Repairing your fighter has already wasted the time of numerous engineers, we don’t need to add--”

“Perhaps every engineer aboard deserves to have their time equally wasted, General.”

Hux’s jaw tensed. “If you wish, sir,” he replied. “But we could resolve the issue now.”

“We won’t.”

For whatever reason, Kylo Ren seemed dedicated to preventing you from working on this ship, as if he didn’t know your skill level. As if he believed other engineers deserved a shot at it over you. Ignoring the furious trembling of your fingers, you dug them into your sleeves. 

“What, you don’t think I’m capable?” you asked, frowning.

Pryde sighed. “Supreme Leader, the Council--”

Kylo pivoted to you. “No.” There was no hint of mockery or deception in his tone. “You’re capable.”

You swallowed, shrugged your shoulder. Tried not to sound hurt. “Then why won’t you let me try?”

Hazel eyes lingered, held you in silence for deafening seconds. There was something very, very tired inside of them. 

“Sir,” Pryde said, “as much as I love the rousing debate over whether or not this rimrat should be deemed worthy of working on your starfighter, the Supreme Council meeting is in minutes.” He turned to you. “I believe you’ve been directed to leave.”

You furrowed your brow, but miraculously managed to say nothing. The muscle under Kylo’s nose twitched. 

“You’ll get two hours.” He didn’t seem excited about the idea. “After that, you will return to Orinda.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” you sighed. “Sir.”

A huff escaped him. “The Supreme Council meeting.” He turned, strode to the exit. “Come.”

Pryde frowned. “Sir, shouldn’t Hux return her to the hangar?”

“No.” Kylo’s voice ricocheted in the chamber. “She’s coming.”

Something like joy sparkled in your heart. Hux jutted out his chin, smirking at Pryde, who frowned and looked to you. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him. There was a puzzle in his mind regarding your identity, a puzzle he was struggling to put together without the missing pieces. You weren’t interested in offering them. 

The three of you followed Kylo into the turbolift. Out of irritation, you stood as far away from him as possible. Awkward quiet settled in the air, and you grit your teeth, ignoring the sting of humiliation at your cheeks. Sure, it was nice he was inviting you to his little meeting, but that hardly compensated for the fact that it had been four entire months since you’d seen him and he was intent on booting you without so much as a parting fuck. 

Not that you wanted to fuck him after that stunt. 

Mostly.

The lift descended. Kylo hadn’t even looked at you, despite your best attempts at petty distancing. Hundreds of words hung on your tongue, and so few of them were appropriate for the ears of Hux and Pryde. Luckily for you, you could think them, instead.

Jackass.

The blast door slid open, and Kylo exited without response, the two generals on his heels. You lagged behind them, glare boring into the broad-shouldered bastard with the flowing cape.

Can’t believe this asshole was here the entire time, knowing everything, with all of the power in the galaxy, just doing bantha-shit about it.

Stormtroopers passed in formation, nodding in deference to the men in front of you as you turned a corner. The clomping of boots was the only sound for meters.

Leaving you for four months, horny as hell, lonely as hell, all while he was here doing what? Jerking off? As if he hadn’t begged you to stay. Please.

At the end of the hall, a set of blast doors parted, and you trailed the group inside, greeted by a massive, jet-black table with a hologram projector buried in the center. The occupants of about a dozen chairs turned, their eyes stuck to you, assessing you. Kylo crossed to the head of the table, Hux and Pryde taking spaces near him. The only open seats were at the back, relegated for only the most irrelevant attendees. You slunk over to one, sinking into it.

Apparently you’re not relevant to anyone in this room, anyway.

“Who’s this?” A balding officer of high-rank stared at you. “Supreme Leader?”

Pryde leaned forward. “She’s the Chief--”

“Who she is,” Kylo drawled, “is none of your concern.” 

Blood heated your face. The room rumbled with uncertainty, but only for seconds. 

“Sir,” said an older woman with slick blonde hair, “Multiple locations on Kamino refused entry to officers seeking out junior recruits. Our entry-level ranks are suffering. Requesting additional--”

Kylo glanced at her. “Yes.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Supreme Leader,” said an older, white-haired man. “Surveillance indicates that a fuel depot located in the Inner Rim has received communications from Resistance starships.”

“Have they responded?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Eliminate them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another, dark-skinned woman inched to the edge of her seat. “Supreme Leader, ground troops found no evidence of Resistance sympathizers on the most recent patrol of Aeos Prime.”

“And the infrastructure.”

“Seems salvageable, sir.”

Kylo blinked, as if the answer hadn’t even mattered. “Move to the next outpost in the system.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader.”

Yet another man cleared his throat. “Supreme Leader, if I may…”

Swallowing, you stared into the gleaming tabletop, tracing the rivets of white light bordering the projector. Voices rose, offering status updates and seeking approval of the man at the head of the room. Obviously, there was nothing attractive about how competent and powerful Kylo Ren appeared in this setting. And this definitely did not tingle pride in your belly watching every single person in this room vie for his favor, knowing that out of all of them, the one he’d fucked was you.

Then again, maybe that was the very crux of the issue. His time and attention was desired and demanded and split between thousands--he directed and delegated an entire, galaxy-wide government. He commanded armies. Strategized operations. Balanced every need, tangible and intangible, with only two hands.

You spent your days bathing in ion dust.

The Allegiant Asshole cleared his throat, breaking you from your pity party. “General Hux,” he said, “didn’t you have your pet project to present?”

All eyes turned to Hux, his face dull with irritation. Lips pursing, he straightened his spine, fingers whizzing over the data screen at his seat. One swipe, a quick field entry, and the projector hummed to life, shooting a blue hologram of a TIE fighter above the table. It flickered, rotating like a display.

“The First Order has regularly demonstrated deficient performance during naval engagements, despite our superior numbers and resources,” Hux said. “After gathering data, we discovered that during our most recent missions, the TIE fighter is regularly out-piloted by Resistance sympathizers.” He tapped the screen, and the hologram split into a cross-section. “Thorough research indicates the TIE model is obsolete.”

The room crackled with whispers, officers turning to each other and looking to Hux, their faces twisted in disbelief. Kylo Ren sat, saying nothing, trained on the display. 

Sighing, you gazed at your hands and cleaned your nails. To you, this was obvious. Of course the basic TIE models--the TIE/fo models--were obsolete. The ships were highly inflexible, carried little firepower for their unwieldy construction, and had no hyperdrive application. In comparison to the model used by the Special Forces, the TIE/fo was practically useless. 

It was less obvious why these high-ranking strangers seemed unable to handle the truth.

“General,” said a dark-skinned man. “Are you proposing we abandon the TIE corps?”

Hux pressed the screen again, and it zoomed in on an exposed ion engine. “At the very least, the most basic TIE corps is woefully unequipped in comparison to Resistance fighters.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he replied, “our pilots are extensively trained.”

Pryde sneered. “Admiral Griss is correct,” he said. “Our elite troops don’t demonstrate any issue with crushing Resistance burrows.”

“Elite troops are never the ones defending a new occupation.” Hux gestured to the engine blueprint. “We sacrifice our progress because of this antiquated construction.”

“And what’s so antiquated about it?” Pryde sneered. “The construction is based on the Imperial TIE. These ships were a well-known symbol of naval superiority.”

“Updated for modern needs,” added Griss. 

Hux’s voice rose a decibel. “Not modern enough, given how frequently a single X-wing will decimate an entire unit.”

You wanted to groan. Against your will, you had to admit Hux was right. Orinda regularly saw straggling, crippled TIEs smash into the valley outside the hangar in attempts to land for repair. Mirna had pulled more pilots than you could count out of blazing wreckage.

“Do you suggest we change the basic TIE unit, then?” Griss asked.

“Perhaps,” Hux replied, “or we move to a different construction entirely.”

The other officers chuckled, murmurs rippling through the ranks again. 

“Supreme Leader,” Pryde said, “what he’s suggesting is absurd. Sienar-Jaemus manufactures perfectly appropriate and functional fighters at an affordable price to the First Order. It’s been done this way since the Empire.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat back in your chair. For a General of a government allegedly interested in innovation and progress, Pryde seemed to love sucking the Empire’s dick. The fact that they were refusing to even entertain Hux’s idea was, well…

“Perhaps we should place a double order for the basic fighters, sir,” Pryde continued. “To demonstrate their capability.”

You snorted. “Now that’s absurd.”

Every voice in the room died. Leather squelched, and you glanced up from your nails in time to see a dozen bodies shifting in their seats to turn and look at you. Inwardly, you cursed--you hadn’t had to practice volume control in months. 

At the head of the table, Kylo Ren stared. His expression, even to you, was indiscernible. But even if he was mad, you wouldn’t have cared. Not as long as he still intended on kicking you off the Steadfast without another word.

Shrugging, you said, “General Hux is right. The original TIE model is flawed. They lose out one-on-one almost every time.” Kylo still said nothing, the rest of the room too confused to interrupt you. “I guarantee there’s more credits spent on replacement models than it would cost to invest in something more versatile.”

Griss’s nose wrinkled, and he looked between you and Kylo. “I…” When Kylo offered no response, Griss settled on you. “I’m not sure what brought you here, ah… Lieutenant, but regardless of your purpose, you’re surrounded by superiors of the First Order. Don’t speak out of turn.”

“Right,” you said, “I do apologize, sir.  But you have to admit that this all is a little absurd. I see busted up basic TIEs all the time. They’re a failure.”

“Yes,” he replied, “and you are?”

“Chief of Operations on Orinda.”

“An outpost?” The room echoed with laughter, and you bristled. Griss gestured to you. “Supreme Leader, please, why is this woman here?”

Pryde nodded. “I know you have your reasons, sir, but surely she doesn’t belong in this room.”

“Maybe this woman knows what she’s talking about,” you mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Griss whipped around, leering at you. “Mind repeating yourself, Lieutenant?”

Volume control. Really needed to get better with that. 

Gathering a breath, you swallowed your ire. You could not spend all two hours on the Steadfast immediately making enemies with the military leaders of the First Order. Given Kylo’s state, you doubted he’d encourage your attitude. 

“My apologies,” you said, bowing your head, “I’m just. Nervous. Being on this ship for the first time.”

“Perhaps you’ve spent too much time on Orinda,” said Griss. “You’ve forgotten the hierarchy.”

“She needs re-education,” said the balding man.

The dark-skinned woman huffed. “Or a demotion.”

“Some form of discipline, surely.”

“Yes,” said Pryde with a glare. “Perhaps that should be arranged.”

Your heart skipped.

“Enough.”

Every person in the room spun, attention on Kylo Ren.

He was still inscrutable. Still gazing directly at you. 

A shiver spilled over your spine. Like instinct, your thighs pressed together. 

“General Hux,” he said. “Prepare a plan for the replacement of the basic TIE model.” A pause. No one spoke a word. “Dismissed.”

You remained in your seat as the other officers rose, their lips sealed as they filed out of the room. Hux scowled at you--ungrateful prick--and acknowledged Kylo’s order before leaving. Pryde scrutinized you, his focus flipping between you and his Supreme Leader as he stood from the table. 

“It’s time to leave, Lieutenant,” he said.

“I need a moment,” you replied, glancing at him. “Sir.”

Pryde turned to Kylo. “Sir?”

Kylo’s face was blank. “Dismissed, General.”

Whatever Pryde was thinking, he didn’t say. He offered deference to the Supreme Leader before strutting out, the blast door shutting behind him.

The moment it closed, the room thickened with heat, like stars vaporized the air. Sweat beaded your hairline, your tongue drying to paper. Every movement you thought to make was paused, paralyzed by confusion. Had it been four months ago, you’d be getting railed on top of the table or in his chair, you were sure of it. But Kylo seemed almost indifferent now. It neutered every response that came to mind.

Here you were, alone with Kylo Ren for the first time since you’d left. He was only meters away from you. And you had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Your time is limited, Lieutenant.”

A reminder he wanted you gone. You shook your head, chewing the inside of your lip. 

“The silencer is free to be inspected.”

Indignance tightened your chest. Your face was on fire.

“Or perhaps,” Kylo said, “you’d rather travel directly to Orinda.”

You whirled on him. “So you knew I was on Orinda the entire time?” Your frustration was unfettered. “You knew and just didn’t do anything about it? For four months?”

His stare didn’t yield. “Yes.”

“Yes?” you said. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself? How do you expect me to respond to that?” More heat gripped your neck. He was still. “Why do you want me gone so badly? You act like you don’t even want me around.”

“I don’t.”

The words were switchblades to your chest. You shook your head, gulped your pain.

“Uh. Okay. Wow.” Sighing, you continued, “But don’t you--I mean. You pleaded with me to stay.”

He said nothing.

“You... I know how you feel. You can’t hide that from me. Do you…” Your throat was tight. “Did something change?”

For four months, you had wondered what had been going on in Kylo Ren’s mind. Seeing him draped in the responsibility of the Supreme Leader of the First Order, hesitation crept into your gut. Within his gaze, perhaps only apparent to you, there was a black, terrible emptiness, like shadows reined in by his rage. Exhaustion hung in dark circles under his eyes and at his cheeks. His presence was as breathtaking as it ever had been, only haunted with the weight of the galaxy. 

For four months, you had wondered. You didn’t know, now, if you wanted the answer.

“You don’t belong here.” Kylo paused, then stood, moving toward the door. “Your presence is not warranted.”

“Warranted? That’s not what this is about.” You shot to your feet, intercepting his path. “You knew where I was, and you never once came to me! You left me there! Alone!” He side-stepped you, and you followed him, keeping your eyes chained to his. “Didn’t you miss me?” you asked. “Didn’t you think about me?”

He stalled. Exhaling through his nose, he spoke through his teeth. “Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you find me?” you said. “You promised!” 

Kylo stood, trapped in your stare, his fingers furling into fists.

“I know how you feel about me.” You advanced on him. “I know it.” 

You were so near you could feel his breath, count the individual strands of his hair, bask in the warmth of his body. A short inhale, and memory slammed you like gravity--the scent of his skin, his palms gripping your waist, his lips brushing your ear. The ache in your hands at night when they were not full of him, the bedtime yearning in your limbs when they were not wound around his. You had known him, known him, as if his blood ran in your veins.  

This was the closest you’d been to Kylo Ren in weeks upon weeks. Somehow, you only felt further away.

“Why?” you asked. “Why didn’t you find me?” After all of it, he only stared. It lit you with rage, and you bumped your chest with his. “Say something!”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. His shoulders rolled. But he was silent. 

A peal of bitter laughter escaped you. Whatever issues he had didn’t mater. You deserved more than what he was offering.

“Wow. Okay.” You shrugged, stepping back. “I don’t know who I was thinking about for these past four months, but it definitely wasn’t you.” Shaking your head, you turned toward the door. “Whatever, dude. Fuck you.”

You took a single step, and Kylo snatched your wrist, whipped you against his body. 

“You say that,” he breathed, “as if you haven’t been thinking about getting fucked since you arrived.”

Oxygen fled your lungs. Every blood cell in your body piled onto your cheeks and between your legs. In seconds, you were a throbbing, pent-up, swell of lust. 

You swallowed. “Oh, please,” you muttered. “You can’t distract me that easily. You know I need answers.”

“Hm.” Kylo scanned your figure. “So you say.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You tried to peel your wrist free. “Why didn’t you do this weeks ago, huh?”

His face darkened, his hold on you tightened. 

“You ask questions that have no answers.”

“Ugh. Get off.” Grunting, you shouldered him, body buffeting his like a flaccid wave. It would’ve been arousing, his strength, how utterly solid he was, if he wasn’t making you miserable in this moment. “You’re so full of it, man. Let me go. I’ll go repair your dumbass ship and you can send me back to Orinda, like you so clearly want.”

“You presume to understand what I want.” His voice was severe, a dull blade. “You will not stay here.” The ghost of a smirk fled his face. “But you won’t escape punishment when you’re gone.”

You shuddered, stuck out your chin. “Your punishments don’t scare me.”

Kylo growled. “Really.” A leather palm cupped the back of your neck, tugged you close. “Such confidence.”

You couldn’t help it. A tiny, excited whimper left you. Kylo shifted, his hand squeezed--

The projector in the table beeped. An incoming transmission. The both of you froze, staring at the blinking request on the interface.  You coughed, patted his chest as a signal to answer it. The knot in his throat bobbed, and he released you, crossing to the console and accepting the message.

Hux appeared in hologram form. “Supreme Leader,” he said, voice even more snivelly through the broadcast. “We received a distress signal from Orinda. Multiple Resistance fighters have been detected on radar. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered.”

The joints in your body locked. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Permission to dispatch TIE units, sir,” Hux said.

Kylo was still. “Dispatch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hologram winked out. Before you could process, your feet were moving you toward the door.

“I gotta go.” Your pulse pounded in your temple. The entirety of your crew was down there. By themselves. “I gotta go there. I gotta get there. I’m sorry, I know I said I would repair your ship but--”

“Stop.” 

“--it’s probably for the best anyway, I just gotta find some way there, I--”

He spoke your name like a command. You stopped. Stared into his tired, empty eyes. 

His chest fell in a small sigh. “We’ll take the Buzzard,” he said. “Come.”

Kylo Ren tread past you, through the blast doors, into the hallway. The tatters of your bewildered heart weren’t a priority right now. You followed him--your Supreme Leader.

[aj28gaming]

How post-game SDR2 should've been like

BTW THIS SHIT IS RUSHED AND DEFINITELY NOT MY BEST WORK, JUST GO TO MY AO3 FOR SLIGHTLY BETTER WORKS

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJcooper28/works

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"I...almost got Junko to take over everyone's bodies and spread despair to the entire world."

He finally said it. He finally admitted it

After realizing everything, from how Nagito was right all along to how everyone else was and is far far worse than Nagito could ever be

And that includes Hajime, who just admitted to being the worst of everyone on this island.

Because he just now admitted to Nagito, his friend that he hated and abandoned throughout the killing game all because of a misunderstanding, that he almost caused the worst nightmare Nagito could ever dream of

Total, utter, despair. To the entire world

Again.

It took some time for Hajime to accept it, to accept, with the help of his multiple analytical talents of course, that he was probably the worst possible friend and person anyone can ask for.

Sure, Nagito was "weird," but boy was he right about almost anything.

His "hope" is truly the literal definition of hope.

As his "Ultimate literate" and "Ultimate English Major" would say,

hope /hōp/ 📷Learn to pronounce

noun 1. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. "he looked through her belongings in the hope of coming across some information" Similar: aspiration, desire, wish, expectation, ambition, aim, plan, dream, daydream, pipe dream, longing, yearning, craving, hankering 2. ARCHAIC a feeling of trust. "our private friendship, upon hope and affiance whereof, I presume to be your petitioner" verb want something to happen or be the case. "he's hoping for an offer of compensation"

Everything checks out

No wonder Nagito called Peko Fuyuhiko's hope. No wonder Nagito said that Teruteru's hope was to see his mom and save the culinary family legacy.

No wonder Nagito said Mikan murdered for despair, after all her beloved was Junko Enoshima, the ultimate despair herself.

It's crazy how right Nagito was all along, how much empathy and understanding he has had for every one of their classmates.

It's just that, sadly, no one understood how right he was all this time.

Not even Hajime himself.

He always thought Nagito couldn't be trusted, that he was always scheming something or up to no good. Trying to plan something to mess with their heads or trick them once again.

Once again...

Hajime would laugh. Because, now, he finally realized how wrong he was with that mindset.

And he only developed that mindset after the first trial.

And what did Nagito do during the first trial?

Everyone thought Nagito tried to kill Byakuya out of pure insanity but failed thanks to Teruteru killing him instead. That's why everyone started to change their perception of him.

And what made it worse was that "maniacal laugh" he did during the trial, it amplified everyone's fear and hatred of him even more.

But that couldn't be farther from the truth.

You see, and Hajime has just found this out thanks to his observations and ultimate talents, Nagito doesn't laugh out of joy or happiness. No, not at all.

In fact, he laughs when he gets surprised, not because he is having fun. And considering the situation he was in, from indirectly causing two murders to being ganged up on by everyone else because of being suspected as the culprit, who wouldn't go crazy and stressed at a predicament like that?

He wasn't enjoying any of that one bit, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

Thinking about it now, it's starting to become painfully clearer. Nagito wasn't at all enjoying the killing game, he was terrified. He hated it more than anyone else, it was his personal hell after all.

That's why he kept clinging to hope. After all, it's normal for a person to cling to a shining hope in a despairful situation. A beam of light, a tiny spec of happiness.

A good ending. That's what Nagito wanted.

No wonder he kept talking about hope, he was desperate for it, everyone was.

But god did they mistreat Nagito.

And back to what Nagito actually did during the first trial.

You see, he wasn't actually trying to get anyone killed.

He was trying to become the first victim himself

It may seem weird at first because that would mean kickstarting the killing game, but it makes sense the more you think about it.

The killing game would've started regardless, and the murders and trials after the first prove that.

And Nagito knew this, which added to the reasons he was paranoid during the start. It was his personal hell, after all, seeing death surround him and his classmates once more.

As if his luck cycle hasn't already tormented him enough...

And so, that's why Nagito did it. He knew that no matter what, someone would've killed someone

He just wanted it to be him and no one else. So no one else has to die like the victims of his horrid luck cycle.

Damn his selflessness...

And that includes his stunt during the 5th trial.

Who can blame a guy, who just found out he is stuck with a bunch of terrorists and remnants of despairs that terrorized the entire world for god knows how long, for wanting those very people dead?

Those very people, that tortured, murdered, manipulated, brainwashed, blackmailed, amputated their bodies, for the sake of despair.

Who wouldn't want them dead? Who wouldn't go crazy at that revelation?

No one. No one at all.

Not even Hajime. After all, he did go crazy after finding out that very same fact that Nagito found out.

So crazy that he almost did the complete opposite of what Nagito tried to do and nearly got everyone to get taken over by Junko and to spread despair again.

To torture, murder, manipulate, blackmail...

All that to happen again. All because Hajime didn't want to die.

So much that he was about to commit the biggest mistake in human history, causing everyone's greatest fears to come to life once again.

All because of his stupidity, his uselessness.

Maybe he really was just a useless reserve course student after all...

No wonder Nagito hated everyone, no wonder Nagito hated Hajime the most.

Who wouldn't?

Damn Hajime's selfishness...

Damn him for thinking about himself instead of everyone else.

Damn him for not being there for his first friend who was the most stressed and vulnerable throughout the killing game.

Damn him for his uselessness, his stupidity.

Damn him...

And so, that's why Hajime admitted it. Despite knowing that what he almost did would've caused Nagito's worst fears to come to life again.

Despite knowing that this would give Nagito even more reason to hate him and despise him for the rest of his life.

Despite knowing how much despair Nagito is already in after finding out he is still trapped with the very people he hates and fears the most

Despite all this, Hajime still pushed himself to be honest. Because he couldn't take it anymore.

After everything he and the others have done to Nagito, how they treated him like a psycho when in reality he hated the killing game more than all of them combined, which was the main reason he went crazy, Nagito deserved to know the truth.

To know how despairful and horrible Hajime really is.

And so he said it, and the boy's response from the inside of his cottage was to be expected of course.

"What?" he barely croaked out, of course too shocked to even understand what he just heard.

Despite his heart-wrenching guilt already clawing the back of his mind into the deep crevices of hell, where he truly belonged at this point, he still pushed on.

"I..."

"You could've caused despair!?" It was louder this time, the interrupting scold almost hurtful and loud enough to make Hajime want to cover his ears and walk away, to pretend like none of this was happening.

"I-"

"Do you...have any idea what you could have done!?" Nagito took a quick breath in the middle, he was hyperventilating.

Makes sense, after all, it's not every day that you get told by your supposed "friend" that he almost caused everyone's nightmares and despairs to come to life by a press of a button.

It's not every day that you find out that same "friend" of yours would've picked causing terrorism and mindless torture to spread throughout the entire world instead of suicide.

It's not every day that you find out this "friend" of yours, who you helped and cared about the most throughout the killing game, would've caused you the most despair and trauma that your luck has ever given you in your entire life.

It's not every day that the person you care about the most, is also the person that would hurt you the most.

And Hajime knew this. Boy did he know this.

Which explains the protruding and continuous sweat dripping so much that they began to sting his eyes, the aching chest covering a heart beating so fast that he wouldn't be surprised if he passed out on the spot.

But he couldn't, he had to push through.

After all, it's all his fault. And he had to take responsibility.

And Nagito definitely deserved to know everything.

But still, it didn't stop him from facing away slightly, like a kid scared of getting punished by their infuriated mom.

"You...you could've caused despair! No! Complete terrorism! Everyone and everything would've been in total chaos and despair all because of you! You...you monster! You absolute monster!"

Every word followed by a broken and betrayed sob. Despite him being "prepared," it didn't stop Hajime from wanting to cry in shame and kill himself to just end all of this already.

"You...I...Why? Why would you do this?" Nagito begged, almost on the verge of tears.

"W-well...it's not like I went along with it in the end!" Hajime "reasoned."

Then, he realized his mistake far too late. Of course, it didn't matter if he did it or not, what matters is the fact that he considered the idea. And that fact couldn't be more true for Nagito.

So Hajime tried to backtrack his mistake, realizing soon after that his destiny was sealed, "Nagito, I didn't mean-"

"Do none of them matter? Countless people, murdered, tortured, manipulated into despair for despair, all because of you. Do they seriously not matter? You think it's okay just because you 'didn't do it in the end?' Of course not, just the fact that you considered it is horrifying enough!"

"WELL WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE!?" Hajime snapped, realizing too late that due to his impulsiveness and anger, he asked the dumbest question anyone could ask.

"WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IF-"

"I WOULD'VE SACRIFICED MYSELF!" Nagito snapped back.

"I WOULD'VE SACRIFICE MY EVER USELESS, DESPICABLE SELF NO QUESTIONS ASKED IF IT MEANT PREVENTING THE WORLD FROM TOTAL DESPAIR! I WOULD'VE GLADLY LAID MY LIFE DOWN, BE TORTURED ENDLESSLY IF IT MEANT SAVING THE WORLD FROM TOTAL ANNILATION!"

Nagito was breathing heavily now, so heavily it's practically an asthma attack mixed with tears and hyperventilation. Hajime could almost hear him trying to keep himself stable while his mental state continues to worsen the process.

His saliva spitting out of his mouth from him trying to breathe properly and lashing out in anger, agony, and betrayal.

Nagito was in tears so much that he almost can't see anything because of the number of tears accumulated in his eye sockets. He hated this, he hated this so much. It hurts him so much.

And what hurts him the most is that despite all of this, he still can't stop loving Hajime, he can't stop having him deep inside his heart...

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(OKAY TO BE CONTINUED CUZ I NEED TO WORK ON OTHER SHIT BUT HERE IT IS IN CASE YOU GUYS WANNA READ ABOUT IT

I MIGHT CONTINUE OR FINISH THIS SOON)

[aaronhotchnersquarterzip]

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

This is it guys, I’m really proud in general of myself for finishing this and I hope you all enjoyed it as well. When I started this fic I honestly planned for a major character death or something dramatic like that. Never in my wildest dreams did I see this ending. I’m not mad though, I’ve had a rough time lately and this really summed up a lot of my feelings. There are people who will never truly leave your life and that's okay. You just shouldn’t let the thought of them hold you back. This has been my favorite thing to write ever and I want to thank everyone who has supported this and made me feel so good about my writing. I did leave this open ended if I ever did want to continue it but I think I want to write something a bit lighter next. I really hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have and remember to stay safe and drink some water today - Mya

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Epilogue

Aaron Hotchner did flip your world upside down. Maybe just not in the way you expected. But in the way you needed. You watched your children chase their father around the backyard. It was nearly below freezing but they were going strong. You made hot chocolate for their impending arrival inside. In the meantime you curled up on the couch with a warm blanket and watched the fire burn. The Christmas tree was lit nicely in the corner of the living room, an abundance of presents spilling out. 

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through some old pictures. Baby pictures of your three children. Your wedding, it was a fall wedding. More than you could have ever dreamed of. You also looked at your college graduation pictures. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had surprised you and showed up to commencement. Screaming when you walked across the stage. You should call them soon. Finally, you found the picture you were looking for, you and Aaron at one of Dave’s dinners. It was a candid that Morgan took when you weren’t paying attention. Aaron has his arm around you while you’re talking to JJ about god knows what. It’s your favorite picture, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, you chose to remember nights that those. He changed you for the better, it was only fair you acknowledged that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when your husband and kids ran inside from the cold. 

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you monsters!” You yelled to them as they rushed to change into warmer clothes. 

When they had all settled and had their mugs of hot chocolate, your husband joined you on the couch. Soon followed by your children, two girls and one boy. They quickly turned on a pixar movie and snuggled up to you underneath several blankets. There was nothing you would change about your life. This was exactly where you were meant to be. 

By the time the credits rolled to Monsters University all three of them had fallen asleep. You carefully tucked in your youngest daughter, Greer. She was about to turn 2 in the spring. Your surprise baby. You couldn’t have been happier when you found out. Sure the stress of raising three kids got to you sometimes but they reminded you of all the good in the world. 

Next was Cheyenne, named after where you met your husband, Noah. You were travelling around the west and made a pit stop in Cheyenne and met the man you were meant to spend forever with. You couldn’t think of a better name for your first daughter, Noah couldn’t have agreed more. She embodied everything good about your husband, his compassion for sure. She was smarter than you by a long shot at just 8 years old. 

Finally you came to your oldests room. He had been a welcome surprise just a few months after your wedding. Your not so little boy mirrored you in a way you never thought possible. It scared you at first, everything about being a parent is scary sure, but nobody prepares you for raising your twin. He had your hair and eyes, Noah’s nose, but everything about him was you. His ambition never failed to wow you, he pushed himself to lengths you truly couldn’t believe sometimes. He however, did inherit some of your bad genes though. Sometimes he didn’t know when to stop, when to slow down and enjoy the present. You got better at that with age, you want him to achieve everything he puts his mind to but you need him to see when it’s happening. Not when it’s happened. 

You reached down and pushed some of his hair from his face so you could kiss his forehead. 

“Goodnight my sweet boy,” you whispered and he snuggled further into his blankets. You smiled softly and walked out quietly. He was already 12, sometimes you couldn't believe that you made it this far. You grew as you moved farther away, you knew that your life belonged out here. Sometimes it’s hard to trust fate but how could you justify meeting Noah and creating your dream life in your new favorite spot in America without believing at least a little bit in fate. 

You softly closed your little boy's door and ran your hand over the nameplate crested in the center of the door, Aaron, written in hues of blue. 

As you cuddled with your husband while he slowly fell asleep, you reached for your phone and scrolled through an album made just for you and Aaron. Noah may be your future, but Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was the love of your life and you forever had a part of him. 

You pulled up his contact for the first time in 18 years and sent him the photo from that dinner at Dave’s a lifetime ago. You wrote a short message, 

I forgive you Agent - Y/N

The last thing you expected was a response, especially so quickly. It was a picture that you had posted on social media a few weeks prior, celebrating your 13th wedding anniversary. 

I’m happy you found better. What are their names? - Agent

My youngest is Greer, then Cheyenne. - Y/N

You wait a few minutes to respond, you know he read the message prior.

He’s named after the love of my life Aaron - Y/N

He called you then. You moved quickly and quietly from your bed and down into your living room. Answering before the line went dead. 

“You were the love of my life too Y/N. I just didn’t know it.”

There you sat, where just hours ago you were wrapped in blankets with your family, you were now transported to your life with Aaron. Staring into the fire with tears in your eyes. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Aaron, sometimes finding the love of your life doesn't mean spending the rest of your life with them. It means loving them for the rest of your life, even if that means watching them love someone else.” 

You could hear him sigh on the other end of the line, “I never stopped loving you. I won’t ever stop loving you Y/N.” 

“I will always love you too Aaron. I think I’m happier now than I ever was with you though. JJ told me you got remarried Agent. Congratulations. I’m sure she's perfect for you.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Her name is Beth, Jack loves her too.”

“I miss him. I’m happy he has someone again. You deserve to be happy Aaron. I forgave you days after. Hell hours even. But I knew that we both needed someone who understood us better. We both deserved that.” 

Just then you heard a door creak and the sound of feet pattering towards you, “mama,” Aaron’s voice squeaked out. 

“Right here, baby. What's wrong?”

“I heard you talking and wanted to talk with you too.” You laughed a little before putting your phone on speaker and introducing your son to Aaron. 

“Well alright, but I think you might need to know his name before you talk to him.” Aaron caught your drift, introducing himself through the phone. 

“Hi Aaron, I’ve heard all about you. My name is Aaron too and there is nothing I want more than to talk to you.”

Your little boy perked up at the idea that this man had the same name as him, Aaron was a good sport and talked to him for about 20 minutes before your boy was yawning between every word. 

“Say goodnight to Aaron buddy,” he murmured out a small goodnight and was helped back into bed. 

“He reminds me of you, I’m sure you know that already.”

“Everyone calls him my clone. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but sometimes I look into his eyes and swear I see you looking back at me Aaron. He’s how I imagined our children would turn out. Perfect in every single way.”

“Your husband is very lucky to have you Y/N. I’ll envy him until the end of time.”

You sensed this was the end of the conversation, you subconsciously wanted to never stop talking to him. That part of you that would always yearn for his comfort when you were breaking down in the bathroom or when you were so over the moon about something at work. You wanted to share those moments with him first. I guess some part of you always would. 

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N, goodnight”

“Goodnight Agent.”

[mc-critical]

This ask got me thinking after one of your latest asks about Hurrem's suicide attempt. Do you think Hurrem's enemies( such as Mahidevran, Hatice, Ibrahim, Gulfem...) would start to be a little bit more sympatic towards to Hurrem if they learn her suicide attemps for Suleiman?(Like when Afife saved her in ep 72) I mean, Valide started to respect and understand her after she saw how much she really loved Suleiman and was willing to give her life for him. Also Afife started to understand her after saving her life. What do you think about the other enemies ? :)

It highly depends on the dynamic each one has with Hürrem individually, their own reasons for putting their foot down on her or being enemies with her, how much can that "new knowledge" move past these reasons and everyone's own individual view on Süleiman.

I feel the one who would sympathize with Hürrem the most in such circumstance would be Gülfem. She has experienced a level of loss and knows what it means to feel that life isn't worth living after that loss. If she learns, she would surely understand and perhaps say that, despite of everything, Hürrem is attached very strongly to Süleiman and has immense loyalty for him. She wouldn't condone Hürrem's other actions that don't sit well with her (like bringing Nigar in the harem only to spite Hatice, reminding her of the infidelity at every turn and even using Gülfem herself to frame Mahidevran for an assault in order to become the ruler of the harem since that was relatively soon), but would put the action into context in front of everyone.

This reaction would be helped by the fact that Gülfem isn't exactly her enemy per say, is very forgiving and patient, isn't used to holding grudges, and is only ever against Hürrem when she does something against her loved ones or she crosses some kind of a line by petty insults or comebacks. Besides, Gülfem still strives to see the good in Süleiman by this point of the show, being his emotional support and conscience even before S04 and becomes worried about what would happen to everyone every time he's ill, so such action of Hürrem's would be pretty explainable for her, even though she could certainly think that Firuze is something she had coming for her, and if they get a chance to talk about it in the depths of my headcanon, they would be the most possible "duo" to have a heart to heart.

Both Ibrahim and Mahidevran's perspectives have pretty much in many ways been shown by episode 55 where Hürrem prepares to do something pretty similar to her suicide attempt in episode 72, just with even more massive stakes.

A major part of the conflict between Hürrem and Ibrahim is rooted on Süleiman: his attention on both of them and the amount of influence Hürrem wants to exercise over him. However, the loyalties they have towards Süleiman is where they have managed to find common ground. Ibrahim is fully aware that Hürrem would never directly act against him. Him learning about a suicide attempt of Hürrem's due to the prospect of losing Süleiman would be nothing new to him, since, as highlighted by their confrontation in E55, he was aware that she was in such a state where she was willing to 'do the impossible'. They were both devastated by the ongoing events and they could come to a mutual understanding. It's possible for him to at least try to understand what she's going through there. But that would only last for so long, for the moment he learns about it. He would widen and maybe think, but... that would be about it. Because if Mahidevran directly acted before Valide hid the children and with SS's fate still being uncertain in E55, Hü and Ibro would have teamed up to stop this mess, but not here.

I once again come back to the comparatively more personal stakes of Hürrem's suicide in E72: this attempt wouldn't be enough to put everything between them behind, for Ibrahim to have such a strong amount of sympathy, none of this can be forgotten by a single suicide attempt. Their history is much longer than that. I would say that he would indeed think about the fact that Firuze is bothering Hürrem so much, wonder for a few seconds, how did it come to this, tell Matrakci about it and tell him that Hürrem must be very threatened to go for this, maybe with a hint of understanding... but that would be about it. It would be a temporary reaction, nothing between them or their dynamic would change in a significant way, he wouldn't get more sympathetic with Hürrem. Because that is a side of her Ibrahim has seen, on the possibility of another, scarier, more dangerous future for them both.

Mahidevran is the person who, is not only the least likely to, but surely, by one hundred percent, wouldn't sympathize with Hürrem over her suicide attempt at. all. Her hatred for Hürrem is seriously big and the points where they both could ever come to an understanding are rare. Some suicide attempt would seem something incredibly trivial and far too small to turn the tables. That is empowered even further by Mahidevran's own ongoing character arc that relates to Süleiman and the way her inner strength evolves by her letting go of him. At this point of the show, Mahidevran wouldn't even be able to relate to what Hürrem has done on a personal level, since Süleiman is nothing but memories to her already. It's not an experience she could connect herself with because of this exact shifting of priorities. What she wants even more at this point is Hürrem's end and she would be fine with however would it happen. {We could say she would generally prefer suffering for her (as she said in E55, but it's a belief confirmed again in E79, saying that death would only be a salvation for her spy; and then advanced even further in S04.), but is on board with killing her as well. (see her sending Diana to kill her)} I even imagine her to still widen at the news, but to wonder why did Afife even save her. (if they learn about that, too)

Despite of this, I feel there're a few angles of how precisely Mahidevran would view this suicide: the confrontation between Hürrem and her in front of SS's bed in E55 is key in her witnessing her say that it's namely dying with Süleiman that she would do if SS died anyway. And there we have Mahidevran claim that Hürrem doesn't do it out of love, but out of fear for her life. She could view Hürrem's suicide in E72 like this, too, and this way she would not only not sympathize with her for it, but also condemn her for doing it in some way. She may not read these intentions as genuine, she may even see it all as a plan of Hürrem's to win Afife over? There wasn't an indication that Mahidevran's view of these stunts of hers changed by that point, even though Mahidevran realized that her E55 actions were a mistake. The second angle of this could be the direct demonstration of her belief of the endless cycle of the harem that would never change. Yes, in E64 Mahidevran had stopped believing that another woman could defeat Hürrem (seen by her expression when Hatice told everyone that this is the only thing that would beat Hürrem), but seeing Firuze brought something else to the table. Then Mahidevran begins once again saying that Hü would burn in the same fire she did, calling back to her words in E61 that one woman would come and destroy this indestructible love. Seeing this realized with Firuze, seeing Hürrem struggle against her that much to the point of giving up, albeit in the opposite way Mahidevran did from SS... it would just show that Hürrem indeed isn't irreplaceable, that every good thing comes to an end, that Hürrem's victories wouldn't be endless and that she would doom herself one day. This could be a part of what Mahidevran wanted, confirming her beliefs of then, yet weakening her rival by a severe amount. Firuze having such an affect on Hürrem would by no means be approached sympathetically by Mahidevran, even if it hypothetically happened in the moment where it could (by that I mean early S01, in E10, when SS was rumored to be dead and if Hü tried such a thing then. And if, say, Firuze existed instead of Sadıka, ofc.), because even then Mahidevran's priorities would be immediately switched to the baggage little Mustafa had to deal with. Hürrem and Mahidevran had their few and far between moments of understanding, but that understanding was connected to their children and their motherly instincts. Only then would they be close to put their differences behind. Not here.

I find Hatice's possible reaction to be kind of a mix between what virtues she has seen in Hürrem before and their relationship in S03A's present. We know that Hatice completely stood against Hürrem because of her simultaniously threatening dynasty and family and what they stood for in Hatice's eyes. However, there have been two exceptions throughout S03A where Hatice actually sided with Hürrem or was shown to be empathetic to her. One of the exceptions was Süleiman falling ill once again in E78 where she was standing next to Hürrem and sharing her desire to see SS recover. That circumstance is similar to what E55 offered, because Hatice saw Hürrem in a better light, albeit for a moment in this case, while showing a loyalty to both the dynasty and the family that is Süleiman. That's where they're able to set their differences even in times where they are full on enemies. It is possible that Hatice may show a hint of understanding for Hürrem's suicide, because she is showing some kind of loyalty to Süleiman and after all, Hatice did once truly admire their love and even understood Hürrem's urge to send the Russian concubines off back in S01. She could understand why Hürrem did it and even empathize with it in part. It wouldn't be completely impossible, since she also has an idea of what it is like. But on the other hand, things have changed since S01: Firuze is the person Hatice counted on to take the win out of Hürrem's hands and Hatice was in such a state that she wanted Firuze to completely take over, which would make us think.

Nonetheless, learning of Hürrem's suicide attempt would definetly surprise Hatice, because even though she wanted for Firuze to take away Hürrem's Thursdays, such a reaction from Hürrem wouldn't be that expected and she would possibly view it as extreme even, since as I have said, Hatice didn't want to kill her in S03A. To knock her down a peg, to put her in her place, yes, but to want or expect such an ending for her, with her doing it herself.. I don't think so. She could even ask her is she okay and even thank Afife for saving her. Again, I don't think it would change their dynamic all that much, probably would keep a bigger eye on Firuze's moves?, but it would be a little moment of piece between them and Hatice could really sympathize. Because Hatice is still very human at her core.

[Side note: Ayşe Hafsa's dynamic with Hürrem changed so much after she saw Hürrem in E55, namely because she saw another side of Hürrem, virtues she didn't think she had and for the defense of which she stood up against Hürrem - again, the loyalty to dynasty and family. In E38, when she overheard her, she saw Hürrem marching against all of them by saying she would get rid of basically everyone and then her seemigly using SS's trust and love for her in cold calculation. In E55, she saw her love for SS in a different better light, a loyalty so strong and contrasting it negated every doubt Valide had against her and made her fully support her as a result. To be fair, the contrast with Mahidevran also helped, since Valide was conversely disappointed by a person she had an almost familial bond with and it's just that the occurrences in the whole episode were just so massive they made her switch from one side to another. Her son's future was put in question as much as her own.

Afife wasn't really an enemy of Hürrem's. She was more of a "lawful neutral" type of character: she helped with the Firuze case only because she was led to believe that Hürrem disrupted the balance in the harem and this balance could be fixed only through another woman. She told Hürrem off that one time, because Afife was so loyal to the laws she found herself to act by them and them alone, thus claiming that Hürrem isn't a Valide Sultan and Afife could arrange the entertainment regardless. (and also because the plot demanded it.) There wasn't any personal ire there. But Hürrem's suicide is something that touched her on a personal level, for she loves SS as her own son. That's once again, something she has never had the chance to see in her life, something new that moved her and made her more supportive of Hürrem and view Firuze in another way. Because after such event she couldn't help, but think: "Could Firuze do the bold thing the legal wife and the mother of his majesty's five kids just did?".]