#to see what would happen / see if people believe them

[firelightmlpoc]

In regards to the current Pansear Doodles problem, I have this to say, & will continue to stand by this until further proof is presented:

Firstly, a statement of mine I’ve been saying for a bit now:

“So, is this account in the screenshots that is claimed to be Pansear actually 100% confirmed to be Pansear’s? The grammar pattern isn’t matching any other messages Pansear has posted in any other server I’ve seen them in, nor was the actual ACCOUNT actually shown besides the nickname & the pfp (Which is barely able to be considered solid proof, especially with the advent of server profiles allowing specific names & pfps for other servers on a whim) You can click an account to see the full account details, mutual servers, ect cetera & show that information WITH these screenshots real easily, so idk why that wasn’t done.

Fuck, it’s still really easy to fake Discord screenshots nowadays too. Is this 100% confirmed to be Pansear in the screenshots being posted?”

As of the time of writing this post, this STILL hasn’t been addressed, nor has any further proof been given. Furthermore, with regards to how Pansear responded to just the allegations themselves, I guarantee they didn’t try to defend themselves & keep their accounts up because of actual threats to their person.

Just look at what happened to their Tumblr handle LITERALLY, AT MOST, HOURS AFTER THEY TOOK THEIR ACCOUNT DOWN.

You all think that the horribly socially-anxious, anxiety-ridden person known as Pansear Doodles could handle that kind of harassment directly to themselves, much less WANT to? No wonder they didn’t even try to defend themselves.

Now, another user I was talking to about this mentioned a good point as well (Not going to give their name to avoid them getting harassed as well.) They said this in response to the screenshots:

“There is no solid proof the Feral Porn screenshot or the Self Harm screenshot are truly Pansear or Emily, but there is some weird oddities regarding the two that show "multiple members". Occasionally, you can see a blue blip peaking behind the censor that matches the color of the 0303Emily account in the FP screenshot exactly. More critically, all of the accounts in the screenshots that aren't "Pansear" have the time sent value uncensored, and they line up with eachother pixel for pixel. This means that if you wanted to fake this screenshot, it would be really easy, as you only need 2 accounts, or just one friend. Also Pansear mentioned how they blocked 0303Emily months ago, so them talking like nothing happened makes no sense. I find it VERY hard to believe the screenshots are real considering all the oddities, the story holes, ease of fakery, and the anonymous source of the information. Every one of these points isn't enough to prove that it is fake, but it certainly isn't enough to prove it's real, and them combined all point in the same direction...”

Now, today I hear that more crusading is occurring from these same people who made these claims about Pansear.

So, @iridescentipede & @azrielfiend . You got any actual PROOF, or is this all stemming from your prior incident with Pansear not immediately trusting you when you accused their friend with minimal proof before?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

[respectthepetty]

In the context of Happy of the End's seventh and eighth episode, it makes sense that Chihiro is being lit up by the car's headlights as he awaits whatever punishment Maya has in store for him, but narratively, it's a beautiful reminder that even in the darkest moment, Chihiro is still light.

When he gets out of the situation thanks to some stray, but persistent, observers, he is still bright in the hospital bed although he is bruised, beaten, and rattled.

Because the one who is truly bothered by all of this is Black Brooder Haoran.

He blames himself for what has happened, and no matter how light Chihiro is, Haoran believes that his dark past will hurt Chihiro, and this incident has not only escalated his fears, but proven that the darkness has already gotten to Chihiro.

Chihiro's cracked arm is a constant reminder of this. It's nestled safely in its black sling, but that black is a visual indicator that Haoran's dark life is no longer in the past, but is alive in the present and harming Chihiro.

So while Chihiro stands in the light unaware of what's taking shape in Haoran,

Haoran isolates and moves back into the darkness.

Because to him, Chihiro will always be light.

And he and his dark past are the problem.

Chihiro continues to prove that he has never seen Haoran this way, and even when confronted with Haoran's troubles, time and time again, Chihiro has embraced them with love and light.

So they run away together. They venture around the beach on a sunny day. They align their colors in the best way they know how with Chihiro still light, and Haoran still dark.

But, that's the point. Haoran is still dark. He still thinks he is the problem. He is the one tainting Chihiro. He is the one who brings darkness wherever he goes and Chihiro would be light and bright without him. So he walks into the dark water, yet Chihiro drags him back.

And that's when Haoran makes one final attempt to rid Chihiro of his darkness. It's not that he tells Chihiro to leave him. It's that Haoran tells him that he is turning himself in. Since Chihiro won't stay away from Haoran, Haoran will do what he does best. Isolate, lock himself away, and cage himself up just like he was taught to do with a piece of luggage all those years ago.

Because Chihiro will be much lighter without him. He will be bright and happy. And we see that three years, Haoran was right.

But it's not because Haoran is no longer in Chihiro's life. Haoran is still very much part of Chihiro's life in the friends Chihiro still has and the people who help him. Chihiro never had this before. His family disowned him. He had no friends. But, now, because of Haoran, he has people he can depend on.

When Haoran is released from prison, he is lighter, but immediately walks into the darkness. Unlike the other times, we clearly see the light at the end. He won't stay in this darkness for long.

The black and darkness will always be there, but he will sit in the sun, and he will be lighter.

He will go for walks. He will be the light he needs.

So when he sees Chihiro and breaks down, he will believe the decision he made was right because Chihiro is fulfilling all his dreams without the darkness that was Haoran's life.

Which is why I loved that the shirt Chihiro wears is grey.

Which, once again, shows that Chihiro carries Haoran with him in everything he does.

Chihiro has accomplished his goals, but it's not because he doesn't have Haoran with him. It's because he always has Haoran with him. In the places they have gone together.

And the places they lived together. There are little glimpses of their life together in Chihiro's photography because without Haoran, Chihiro wouldn't be alive. Chihiro wouldn't have a reason to live. Chihiro wouldn't have a life filled with people who care about him and a job he once believed he was never meant for.

So it's important that Haoran comes face-to-(covered) face with himself before he sees Chihiro because it's important that he sees himself in Chihiro's life, and that he sees himself in Chihiro. Because there in the white frame is the light of Chihiro's life.

So even though Chihiro is in a white jacket with a blue shirt,

And Haoran is in black, he proudly wears the blue scarf Chihiro gave him to match him just like their last day together.

And he allows his picture to be taken.

Because Haoran finally understands that he never darkened Chihiro's world, and Chihiro's huge smile when he sees him proves it.

Haoran, even with all his darkness, was the happiest part of Chihiro's miserable existence. Haoran was the bright spot in Chihiro's life when he needed it most. Haoran is light, and when he picked Chihiro out of the trash, he changed Chihiro's entire life.

These color-coded boys in love get a happy ending because they showed that no matter how much darkness exists, there is always light.

And they were each other's light.

[xclowniex]

Being a Jewish leftist in the current day is very interesting.

Because I, along with other jewish leftists still hold leftists beliefs whilst also being disillusioned with the left. We keep seeing time and time again that so many people on the left don't actually believe what they claim to. It's all "we are against x thing, unless it's a group we agree with then we'll ignore it and support the group"

And 9/10 the group they're supporting has explicitly said they want to kill jews but tries to hide it as being anti israel such as hezbollah and the houthi.

And at least personally, I feel a sense of guilt. I know I shouldn't, and it's not my fault or any jew's or Israeli's fault, but I do. How else does one feel when hatred of their identity leads to people supporting groups which sex traffick and enslave people from Africa, who kill people from Syria? Who oppress civilians in the countries they reside in?

How am I supposed to not feel burdened by this? How can I go about by day to day and not feel as if my existence isn't jeopardizing the safety and wellbeing of others?

And I know logically that there is no burden for me to bear. No ethnic or religious group should be held accountable because people are so dead set on hating them that they're willing to endorse and support groups who harm others. Logically, the blame falls onto those who chose to support those groups.

But logic doesn't change how I feel. It doesn't make the guilt go away. And it most certainly doesn't stop people from supporting these types of groups.

Nor would all jews and Israelis ceasing to exist stop the harm done unto people in the middle east and Africa from hezbollah, the houthi and Iran and its other proxies. It would continue to happen because jew hate didn't make people racist, it didn't make people become sex traffickers or slave owners. Those are all choices they made themselves, born out of hatred they have for those whom they harm.

Yet I still sit here, unable to rid myself of the guilt that my existence and the hatred people hold because of it has contributed in some manner to the oppression of others

[storiesfromafan]

Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

[thecosmicangel]

It’s the law of ASSUMPTION not the law of believing it, so no you don’t necessarily have to believe it for it to true. And you are not new to manifesting you have been doing it your whole life.

Really think about it, why would we need to work hard or be deserving of something to have it? If that where the case then “bad people” wouldn’t have the money or lifestyle that they have. Do you think that if we had to be deserving of things, good people would suffer? Did they deserve the bad things to happen?Since we been born we have been programmed with limiting viewpoint and beliefs saying things like

“Good things take time”

“You have to work hard to earn it”

You have to deserve it

If it’s meant to be it will be

It will happen in divine timing

You have to be completely healed to have it

You have to be vibrating at a high frequency

You have to be positive all the time

You have to be patient, everything happens for a reason

Or you have to be logical , be realistic

And so much more. This is why you can make up your own rules because everyone else is, everyone decided what they choose to believe / assume to be true for them and based on that they experience their reality.

Just because we are born and exist is enough proof and validation for why we deserve to have what we want. We have those desires and dreams for a reason. We were created to experience all of our desires. Do you really think we were born to work a horrible or boring job everyday for the rest of our lives? Do you think you were born to suffer ? Do you think you were just born to desire stuff but not get them? No we were born to experience being god in our own way, by creating our own realities. Creating our own heaven in earth.

Stop limiting yourself by thinking you have to wait,or that you have to earn it. God doesn’t wait , so why would we have to wait? If we were meant to wait we wouldn’t have a burning desire for what we want, that in itself is proof that the desire is waiting on you to accept it and make it yours!!! The bad/ unwanted circumstance we create didn’t have to wait so why does the good or our desires have to wait? I’ll show you how it’s irrelevant to wait , say you want a certain shirt, jeans or whatever that you know is available at a store, well you know you have everything you need to buy it so you will order it or go to the store and buy it because you want it, you are not waiting around to see if the shirt wants you or if some other power wants you to have it, you simply decide you are buying it because you want it. I mean unless you want to procrastinate and overthink if you really want it or not then yeah it might take you sometime to decide on buying the shirt, but it’s all the same thing. Nothing is harder or easier to manifest everything is neutral and only based on your assumptions if it’s hard or easy.

Everything starts of with an idea or thought. Think about all the inventions in the world, someone had that idea and made it happen. Even science is based on ideas/ observations, they start of with a hypothesis.

Your desires are manifesting you, they are calling on you or else you wouldn’t want them ( the desire is calling you, not you calling it, so pick up the phone and answer the call) your desires are here and available for you the second you become aware of them it’s just waiting on you to take it & accept it. Trust that they can happen instantly too, make an assumption/rule on how long it takes for you to manifest things. Create your own rules and what it takes to manifest without doubting it. Do you just want to affirm or assume once and that’s all? Because really that is all you need to do and not contradict it and it will manifest.

If you want to see how it works try it out with something you know you can manifest, for example when I would doubt my power I would set up little test for me, “I would say today I want to see a purple Lamborghini” not even 5 minutes later I would see a purple Lamborghini. Another day I would say I want to see “xyz” I would be as descriptive as I wanted and then I would see it later on that day. This just helped me understand and see proof of how my mind works and how easy it is to manifest. So if you’re having trouble understanding the law try this little experiment out for yourself. The same way I could manifest seeing the things I wanted for my experiment is the same way I could manifest everything else, now the thing is to not contradict myself and stick to one story and it will inevitably be.

-xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽

[favslarue]

Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who like to go to your neighborhood and pretend they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment tou saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after hearing all type of shit from that asshole dad, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure - You said confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk, and connected to a neighbor wifi. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you ran to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and giving interviews

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, sometimes he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep, or so you thought.

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you stole from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I don’t think you remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully know every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, don’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but you and your sick mind were thinking about getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bended you over his table, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you are intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that is enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the reason you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pushed you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him smile

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, without letting you see it, he took your underwear that it was above it, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to left without your panties.

Turning around to leave, not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

310-807-3956

[multbasa]

If you've gotten a game early illegally, then don't post about it online.

Not only is it annoying for people who are waiting until the official release to see leaks and spoilers, it puts emulators at risk as what happened to Yuzu.

Emulation is built on shaky legal ground and it continues to exist because of legal arguments such as aging hardware and software are no longer supported or sold by the company that produced them. This argument doesn't exist for new or unreleased hardware or software which is why Nintendo absolutely nuked Yuzu from orbit because they were profiting off of an unreleased brand new title, sharing the ROMs on Discord and selling an updated version of the emulator specifically to pirate that new game.

The bottom line is:

Stop giving companies legal grounds to sue emulation developers

Emulation is great for preserving old games because the official hardware and physical software breaks down over time. I WANT emulation to exist so I have the ability to continue to play old games that I loved, but people who pirate new games and especially unreleased games put emulation at risk. They paint a target on the back of emulation and give large companies like Nintendo legal grounds to attack that emulator.

Got a game early? Pirating it through an emulator? Keep your mouth shut.

I don't care how much you hate Nintendo or any other company, you're just shooting yourself in the foot by drawing their attention to things that are barely considered legal.

There used to be a ROM site for DS games which Nintendo got taken down because they were using Nintendo's official artwork on the site. Yuzu was profiting off of pirating TotK before it even released and all the kiddies online were bragging and making shots at Nintendo before Nintendo sued the Yuzu team for millions and even had their other DS emulator shut down by association.

Why don't people fight Nintendo in court instead of settle? Because Nintendo had legal grounds to sue and legitimate proof of damages and profit by Yuzu. Not to mention the lawsuit would have put emulation in a worse legal position if Nintendo won and they likely would have won in that case.

People are so short-minded and ignorant these days that they have no idea how anything works yet they continue to poke the bear. You can't hide behind the legal argument that emulation preserves old software that companies no longer produce while also bragging about pirating games from day one or earlier.

Suck up the arrogance and go incognito. It's better for the community who haven't gotten to play the game yet, and it's better for the emulation scene because companies like Nintendo will have less concrete grounds to sue.

Also don't publicly boast about pirating in Discord chats especially if you're part of an emulation team. They're not private. I can't believe people these days don't understand that. Very few places online are truly private if there are any at all, so don't incriminate yourself. Don't profit off of new or unreleased software especially so publicly, and get off the high horse, it is made of hay and twigs and can barely stand upright.

[nshmuras]

YOU DONT TALK MUCH? ~ sjy

sypnosis : jake was the heartthrob of decelis academy. as usual, he would find girls to swoon and break every month. but what happens when his friends challenge him to break you? the quiet girl who never speaks to anyone.

genre : fluff, angst, smut.

features : hyung line of enha.

pair : popular boy jake x quiet girl reader

chapter(s) - ONE 2 3 4 5 -> 000.

buns notes : if you see a mistake its because i pre wrote this way before it even was posted yesterday 😭 ignore them please !

Sim jaeyun wasn't a good guy. not like anyone didn't know that.

most people assumed he was a mamas boy or was insanely clingy due to his natural radiant glow.

Well everyone is wrong.

Jaeyun, also known as jake, didn't live with his mom anymore since he wouldn't get his way and decided to move out by the help of his father he rarely sees ever.

But atleast he's successful, his mom rather have a annoying ball of success than a annoying son with a even more annoying lack of future.

Sometimes thinking about leaving his mother and stressing her out with his defiance makes a tiny pang of guilt come but he pushes it down, why wouldn't he?

Now he has a thing he does. he has a list full of the cutest and hottest girls at Decelis university that he deems fit to be a pawn at his game.

It's called the "target list" and whoever is on there will leave with a broken heart and more.

He tells these girls that he loves them! they believe it with a bat of their eyelashes and a spread of pink dusting their cheeks.

Stupid.

Now enough of that, lets move on.

-

-

-

Today, the lunch room was bustling with movement and chatter as the students of Decelis university gathered in the area to eagerly fill their stomachs before having a long lecture with their professors.

Obviously, the basketball team sat at a big table with jokes and conversation about girls.

Heeseung, jay, and sunghoon are jakes buddies. Following behind him as always to practice or anywhere else

The topic was random before the oldest, heeseung, spoke up. "Yo jakeu, when you finding your next toy?" He teased, which jake scoffed but also snickered.

"Soon, haven't found anyone to place on my list yet." Jake inquired as he dug into his bag , pulling out a slightly crinkled paper before placing it on the table.

"I had Kori , maya , mina but their all last weeks targets i already crossed off." He huffed and leaned back in his chair.

Then, jay took the paper and scanned it before leaning over to whisper something to the other male, sunghoon.

Sunghoon hummed and nodded, jotting down something before shuffling it back to jake.

Jake quirked a brow and read down. "L/N Y/N..." He muttered as he looked up "Who the fuck is that?"

They all snickered before heeseung answered. "That girl over there. Shes from class 4 and seemingly has a crush on you."

Jake almost snorted and immediately rejected the idea before jay cut him off. "She's quiet, doesn't speak alot and seems like she could be easy to fool."

Jakes original frown then curled into a smirk. "Well, this will be fun."

.

.

.

After lunch ended everyone was now in their professors classrooms, except jake.

He strolled the halls until he reached the library.

Does he like to read? No.

But that's not why he's there... he's there for you.

When he scanned the area his eyes landed on a girl who was buried into a book and basically assumed it had to be you.

He strutted over to you confidently and took a seat beside you, in which you looked up.

"Hey, saw you were reading something and got curious." He smiled charmingly and expected a immediate blush but you remained calmed and nodded.

"Uhh.. what is the book called?" He asked, feeling awkward. he never has felt awkward talking to a girl.

You shifted the book to show him the front cover before returning it to your own eyes to continue reading.

"Hm.. nice." He said a bit quietly as he watches you. "Say.. you should talk. its not attractive if you keep quiet." He teased, it was a bit of a jab but suprisingly, you stood up and took your stuff with you before walking out the library.

"What the.." Jake trailed off in confusion before it turned into frustration.

Who dare turn away from Sim jaeyun like that? everyone knew better.

You're definitely not getting off the hook.

jakes next targets : @faithnsstuff @mitmit01 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @whoa-jo @wonsdoll @elysianiki @mmygnolia @kairoot (send ask to be added.)

[cator99]

2 days ago: a new email from the landlord is dropped. I open it, and damn near toss my phone across the room.

The email can be summed up as such: "Hi everyone just a totally casual reminder that ONLY THOSE CURRENTLY ON THE LEASE are LEGALLY permitted to reside in the home. I've made this very clear. In the off chance that you missed the memo, allow me to reiterate this part on the lease for you. [insert that part in a fancier font here]. To be clear, anyone who is not on the lease as a tenant is not authorized to reside in the home. Anyways so yeah I'll be bringing some handymen over on the 26th to deal with the basement leak."

(Side note– yes, she does say both "I've made this very clear" and "to be clear".)

The house is engulfed by an eerie silence in the following days. Or maybe– in my paranoid state– I'm imagining it. I know for certain that no one wants to touch the damn thing. We all sit and wait for someone else to breach the topic. That "someone else" being the unemployed ftm who has been the primary correspondent with the landlord for at least as long as I've been here, despite all common sense pointing towards this being a task that would be better delegated to literally anyone else– although, seeing as he is now our only unemployed resident, I do consider bestowing this responsibility upon him to be an act of mercy. Something something "enclosure enrichment" etc. So. He finally returned today, and the expected happened. Total pandemonium in the house chat. Thankfully, no one seems to have– at least openly– begun to suspect the obvious, (that, of course, being that this is a sort of warning from a landlord who knows exactly what's going on) and then, from there, extrapolated that perhaps this is the result of a snitch. But who would do that? Couldnt possibly be the one person in the house who has openly expressed concern about the way things have been dealt with. Oh well. Thankfully, the most cogent thought that was expressed on the topic was this:

New Girl remains totally silent as everyone chimps out and devises a plan to give legal aid a call tomorrow. Yknow. Regarding an issue that should more or less be new girl's responsibility to deal with. Hours pass before she finally responds to the questions regarding what she would like us to do. Does she even want to be on the lease? After all the fighting we did to get the landlord to agree to even consider doing so? All this hullabaloo just feels a little silly when she doesn't seem to give a shit either way. She's expressed very little consideration towards these matters at any point (in her defense, she is Cerifiably Slow in that incresingly-rare Not A Malingerer type of way so... I don't expect too much), but right about now, without Pins Girl here to make a stink about it all and whip people up into believing that suburbia-chan's tenancy here is of utmost importance and a real human rights issue, it has become even moreso apparent that she really doesn't care nor understand the implications of this situation. But I digress. Hours after the fact, she drops in with a few words, and leaves it at that.

Imagine purple saying this through gritted teeth. She's one of the 2 relatively-normie-if-a-tad-reclusive (who can blame them) 30 y/o IT-job people who live upstairs. The one who has been volunteered to call legal aid in the morning... sooo valid.....

[mermaidsirennikita]

Sadly, the Wuthering Heights furor has also led to people (many of whom, let us be real, simply dislike the book or otherwise only think of it when it's brought up) to discourse about the content of the novel versus the wrongness of Emerald Fennell's choices with regards to the movie, which of course, has opened up the classic "IT'S NOT A ROMANCE! IT'S NOT A LOVE STORY! BAD PEOPLE! HATE STORY!"

... Which is... also a bad take.

First off, to be very clear, "Romance" is not inherently "genre romance", which is the thing I blog a lot about that was solidified in the latter half of the twentieth century (and which, no doubt, was influenced on some level by WH as much as Jane Eyre, Austen novels and so on). Wuthering Heights is a romance, it's just not a genre romance/romance novel. And indisputably, Wuthering Heights is a love story.

It may not be a love story you like. It may not be a love story with a happily ever after (though I will say—this is one of the few books where I think it's pretty debatable, as "wandering the moors as ghosts", if that is what happened, is kind of... what Cathy and Heathcliff would've wanted... and their ultimate desire was to be TOGETHER, regardless of whether or not it damned them, so is it an HEA in their freaky minds? Maybe so lol). It may ALSO be an abuse story in which the lovers act horribly to each other.... though, I gotta say, MUCH WORSE to literally everyone else in their lives than they do to each other...

But it's a love story. That is one of several things it happens to be. The entire novel is driven by this central love story between Heathcliff and Cathy—a love that is, contrary to what a surface-level reading or reading by word of mouth would imply... very much mutual. I've already gone on about how Cathy Earnshaw is not Heathcliff's victim the way Isabella Linton is, and how Cathy is very much as involved in the love affair as he is. But truly, while their individual internal struggles are the framework and what keeps them apart in many ways—Heathcliff being a man of color and subject to racist abuse, Cathy conforming to society and classist pressures when her natural temperament is very much not of society—what propels the story is this romance.

Because they are supposed to be read as extremely similar, and as two people who do not truly identify with anyone but one another. They're supposed to be read as like minds. They're supposed to be read as thwarted. Some of the things those two say about each other and to each other are legitimately some of the most romantic lines I've ever read.

I mean, are they also kind of sick and wrong? Sure! But I do find it kind of rich to see people who are totally fine with reading dark romance wring their hands over the public at large interpreting Heathcliff and Cathy's relationship as an epic romance. I don't have an issue with anyone enjoying either! But. Let us be real. Part of why y'all are even enjoying work like that is the standard that books like WH set, and the fact that WH does speak to the lure of the dark and the tragedy of people who are super imperfect... and also super in love... continuously fucking up their own lives (and the lives of basically everyone around them) in this push-pull of denial and desire.

When people say "HOW COULD ANYONE EVER INTERPRET THIS AS ROMANTIC?" I just have to question... did you read the book? Because even if it's not for YOU, if it's not romantic TO YOU, surely you can see why other people (me and mine lol) read lines like these and go, "Wow, romantic":

“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”

(fun fact: I do have a part of the above quote tattooed on my body and I'm very happy about it)

"My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it."

"Hush, my darling! Hush, hush, Catherine! I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips."

[said when her damn husband is almost at the door lol]

"I’m not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake, forgive me!"

"'Heathcliff, dear! you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff.’

In her eagerness she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. At that earnest appeal he turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, at last flashed fiercely on her; his breast heaved convulsively. An instant they held asunder, and then how they met I hardly saw, but Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive..."

"Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?"

[Read: she is the murderer he is talking about. He's saying she doomed herself to death a long time ago, and he hates her for it. While also crying and kissing her lmao]

They're sickos! Nobody can argue otherwise. But that does not mean they're not in love, and it doesn't mean this isn't a love story, and wagging your fingers at people who read this as the obviously destructive love story this is and find it romantic... doesn't change that.

And the thing is that the book makes it pretttyyyy clear that even if Heathcliff and Cathy has assholery programed into their personalities, WITHOUT the contexts of how they were raised and the society that expects them both to conform to prescribed roles, they would probably just... be together. Like, they victimize people, especially Heathcliff. But they are also victims. The book isn't about a critique of two people Emily Bronte dreamed up; it's a critique of the CIRCUMSTANCES by way of Gothic, subversive melodrama. At the end of the day, their feelings, however passionate they are, are not inherently subversive. Their feelings are NATURAL. But they're twisted and contorted into something ugly through circumstance and the characters' responses to those circumstances.

For Heathcliff, A LOT of those circumstances that did twist him are in fact out of his control. Which is why we hate that casting, right?

But all that said, a love story being dirtybadwrong and about Bad People doesn't mean it isn't a love story, lol. Again—we don't even expect genre romance to be about good people.

Like. Yeah. We know Heathcliff and Cathy are assholes. You're not breaking new ground with that take. The book is still, in many ways, about those assholes being in love.

[jetii]

Few Fates Worse Than Death

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 13,780

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, platonic Rex x Reader, kissing, found family stuff so that makes it better right?

Summary: You refused to believe that Wrecker would ever hurt you, but on Bracca, his nightmare finally comes true.

A/N: I've written angst to some degree for every member of the squad except for Wrecker, so I decided to change that. This is the first and probably only time I pull quotes/scenes directly from the show for a one-shot.

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The moment Rex told you about the inhibitor chips, everything fell into place. A cold, icy dread filled you, even as the others insisted that the chips held no power over them. Everything that had happened since Kaller, since Crosshair and Master Billaba's men tried to kill you... you saw it all through a new lens, and the galaxy spun dizzyingly before you.

Like the others, you’d barely paid attention to Omega’s explanation of the chip. The idea that the Kaminoans put some sort of mind-altering device inside every clone was beyond the pale, so absurd that, even if it was true, you never thought to give it much attention. And Tech was so confident that his own research proved the chips had no such abilities. It was easier to trust Tech, who had always been honest and open with you, than to question your own instincts.

But Rex was different.

The others protested, but Rex had seen something, experienced it himself, and he wasn't willing to risk any of his brothers falling prey to it again. You can hear his fear in his voice, feel it radiating from him. His insistence that the chips be removed, one way or another, was unshakeable.

Rex looks over at you, as if expecting you to back him, but you can only look away.

You feel like you can't breathe, can't think. You take a step back and settle down on one of the barstools, your hand gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles are white. Your stomach churns with dread. What do you do? What can you do?

You’d felt it, the moment Jedi across the galaxy were cut down, like a thousand tiny shards of glass stabbing into your mind. The pain had been nearly blinding, and it had taken every bit of concentration you had to keep from screaming. But you hadn’t seen the images. Hadn’t witnessed the slaughter. That had been a mercy. You hadn't been there, hadn't seen them fall, but you still feel the echoes of their deaths in the Force, a dull, aching pain that never goes away.

The thought of what Rex had seen, what the other clones had experienced, sickens you. Being forced to witness the death of someone you care about is awful enough, but to see your own hand, your own blaster, murder the very people you are sworn to protect? You shudder, the horror of it too overwhelming to contemplate.

The others are talking now, and the argument is escalating. You watch them in a daze, barely able to focus. Your thoughts are running away with you, and you have to fight back against the urge to panic.

The clones were made to be obedient, but not this obedient. There was no way the Kaminoans, or the Jedi, or anyone would have created them with the ability to commit mass genocide at the push of a button. It couldn’t be real. It couldn't.

Could it?

"The chips make you a threat to everyone around you," Rex says, and it's like being doused in cold water. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, unable to speak.

Rex's jaw tightens. "You're all ticking time bombs." 

And you realize then that he's right. Even if the inhibitor chips really do hold no influence over the clones, you can't ignore the potential threat they pose. Not after what happened on Kaller, the horror of it still fresh in your mind. You hadn’t been there after, but you’d heard what happened. If Crosshair had really wanted to kill those refugees, if his chip had made him turn on his brothers... how could the others be so sure their own wouldn’t do the same?

They're all still arguing with Rex, telling him he's wrong, but they don't understand. None of them understand.

Rex turns to you, and when he sees your face, he falters. He knows. He has to know what's running through your head, because he takes a step forward, and you hold up your hand.

"Don't—"

"She's not safe with you," Rex says, gesturing to you. His face is stony, his expression hard. "Any of you. How can you protect her from yourselves?"

Wrecker's eyes dart between you and Rex, and when his gaze settles on you, his brows knit together in a worried frown. He looks distraught, and you wish there was something you could say, something you could do to ease his fears, but you can't get your tongue to work. 

"What are you talking about?" he demands. "We'd never hurt her."

"No, you don't understand. It's not—" Rex pauses, and his expression goes from pained to resigned. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, his shoulders drooping. "What's in your head is more dangerous than you can imagine. I've seen what happens when the chip activates, and I don't want to bury any more of our brothers."

Rex meets each of the Batch's gazes in turn, then his eyes settle on you, and you know that you won't like whatever he has to say next.

"You can't keep her. She's not safe with any of you," he says quietly.

He's not saying anything you haven't thought before, but the way he phrases it sends a sharp stab of hurt through you, and the ache is only exacerbated when he continues.

"I can protect her."

"We can protect her!" Wrecker snaps, taking a step toward Rex. He glares down at the captain, looming over him, and for a moment, you're reminded of just how much larger Wrecker is than him. But Rex doesn't back down, doesn't flinch. Wrecker glances back toward you and Tech, a desperate look in his eye, and his voice goes soft. "Right?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. Tech doesn't speak either. He just stares at Rex, a deep furrow in his brow.

"She'll be safer with us," Hunter argues. His voice is firm, but you can tell from the way he avoids meeting Rex's gaze that he's not nearly as certain as he seems.

"It's not the same," Rex says, and he's clearly struggling to hold onto his patience. "Trust me. It is not something you can control. I couldn't. It's a risk you do not want to take."

You've heard enough. Your throat is tight and your stomach is roiling, but you can't let them continue like this. You swallow back the bile and rise unsteadily to your feet.

"Enough," you say, your voice thin.

The others turn to you, and when Wrecker looks down at you, his expression is heartbreaking. You take a deep, steadying breath, then glance up at him.

"It's okay," you whisper, and force a small, reassuring smile. "Everything will be okay."

Your words don't have the desired effect. Wrecker's brow furrows and he takes a half-step toward you, reaching out his hand. He hesitates, and you close the distance between you, reaching up to take his hand in yours. His hand engulfs yours, and his fingers close around your hand gently, like he's afraid he might hurt you. His grip is warm and reassuring, and for a moment, everything is okay.

But it doesn't last.

“General, please." Rex's voice is soft, imploring, and when you meet his gaze, there's a pleading look in his eyes. "You know I'm right.”

“I’m not a general anymore, Rex," you say, shaking your head. "And I’m not a Jedi."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

"You can't ask this of me," you say, and a shiver runs through you. You wrap your free arm around yourself, wishing desperately for the security and comfort of the cloak you left behind. "Please. Don't."

Rex closes his eyes, and for a moment, the two of you are silent.

"Alright."

The others look relieved. Wrecker's face scrunches up and you think he's going to cry, but he's also smiling, and he wraps his arms around you and picks you up off the floor. He buries his face against your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as you can.

"We'll figure this out," you say, and pray the others don't notice the way your voice wavers. "It'll be okay."

Wrecker nods, but his voice is thick when he replies. "I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm not leaving."

But Rex's words are stuck in your head, echoing relentlessly. It's a risk you do not want to take.

Wrecker sets you down, and when he steps back, there's a wet sheen in his eyes. He rubs at his face and laughs nervously. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing it lightly, and offer him a smile. It feels forced and unnatural, and Wrecker must notice, because his expression falls, and he looks almost guilty. He drops his gaze and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

You look past him to the others. Tech is standing by the door, his arms folded tightly across his chest. You can see his hands are clenched, the muscles in his arms tense. His eyes are fixed on the floor, and when he senses your attention, he lifts his gaze and meets your eyes. His brow is furrowed, and you know he wants to say something. You can see the words forming in his mind, but whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then looks away.

Hunter and Echo are standing together, watching you. When you meet Hunter's eye, he gives you a curt nod.

"It'll be alright," he says, and his tone is oddly final. He turns back to Rex. "How do you suggest we get them out?"

"Good question," Rex replies, and his gaze falls on you again. He frowns and tilts his head. "You're sure you don't want to leave?"

"Yes," you reply, but your voice sounds thin, even to you. You clear your throat and repeat the word more firmly, and the others all look at you. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rex hesitates. For a long moment, he just looks at you, as if searching for some sign that you've changed your mind. Then he sighs and nods, his expression grim.

"Alright. I'll be in touch."

He leaves without another word. The moment he disappears up the stairwell, Wrecker tugs you against him, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you against his chest. You squeeze him back, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against his chest. Your heart is pounding so hard that you can feel it in your temples, and your head is throbbing.

"It'll be okay," you repeat, trying to sound reassuring, but there's an uncertainty in your heart that you can't ignore. You're not sure who you're trying to convince, yourself or Wrecker, but you both need to hear the words.

You're not sure what comes next. You've only just got back to the Batch, and now this...

It feels like you're standing on a precipice.

You're not sure which way the wind will blow.

Wrecker's headaches are getting worse, and they come more frequently.

He can barely sleep, and his temper is short. More than once, he's lashed out at the others, and you can tell that it's eating him up inside. He's ashamed and frustrated, and all the more upset because there's nothing he can do. When he does manage to rest, it's fitful. You're not sure how long it's been since he slept properly, and it worries you.

Your own rest is fitful as well.

Ever since Rex's revelation, there's been a tension between you all that was never there before. It's like you're all just waiting for something bad to happen, and every day that passes is just more time spent in anticipation of a nightmare you can't stop.

It's hard to shake, and sometimes, it's all you can do not to cry. You miss the Jedi, the people you thought of as family, and the knowledge that the clones were responsible for their deaths is like a knife through your heart. It was easier when you didn't know the truth, when the deaths felt more distant. Now, every time you think about the Jedi, you can't help wondering how they felt in those final moments. If they knew.

The pain in the Force is still there, but it's different. A constant ache, a reminder of all the lives lost. Sometimes, it's too much, and the grief overwhelms you.

The worst part is knowing that the others are keeping their distance.

It's subtle. Just little things, but you can tell.

You and Omega are still spending most of your downtime together, but when you go to spend time with the others, it doesn't last as long. You've barely seen Echo and Tech, and Hunter is avoiding you like the plague.

And Wrecker.

Wrecker is pulling away, and he's doing it so slowly that you didn't notice at first. At least, not until you woke up one morning to find the bed empty. He hasn't slept beside you since that night with Rex, and he's not spending much time with you outside of missions. And the longer this goes on, the harder it is to break the ice.

When you do manage to talk to him, you try to offer support. You want to reassure him, to comfort him, but the pain in his head makes him recalcitrant. It's like he doesn't want you to know the truth of what's bothering him, and the more you press, the more agitated he gets.

One night, you try to help him with his headache. He's sitting on his bunk, leaning over and clutching his head, and you can't stand by and watch him suffer any longer.

You sit beside him and rest a hand on his back. His skin is slick with sweat, and his muscles are tense, his entire body shaking with pain.

"Can I help?" you ask, keeping your voice soft. "Will it help if I massage your temples?"

Wrecker's answer is a muffled groan, and it's impossible to tell whether it's a yes or a no, so you tentatively begin to rub your fingers in slow circles. You start at his temples and work outward, hoping that some of the tension will release.

You keep rubbing for a while, and it seems to help, a little. When his head finally slumps forward, you pause.

"How's that?" you ask softly.

"S'good," Wrecker grumbles, but the tone of his voice makes it clear that he's anything but pleased. "Thanks."

He doesn't move, doesn't relax. You're not sure what else to do, but you don't want to leave him like this. It feels wrong.

"Is there anything else I can do?" you ask, and you try to keep your voice gentle.

Wrecker shakes his head. "I'm fine."

“You’re not.” Your words are quiet, but they feel like a shout. Wrecker freezes, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. You sigh and move so that you're kneeling in front of him, and you place your hands on his knees. "Please, talk to me."

He doesn't answer. He doesn't move, his head bowed.

"Why are you shutting me out?" you whisper.

"I'm not," Wrecker mumbles. His hands come up to cover his head, and you have the feeling that the action has less to do with his headache and more to do with his reluctance to meet your gaze. "I'm just..."

His words trail off, and a tense silence falls between you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, and now your voice is wavering. The tears you've been fighting for days are threatening to spill over, but you hold them back. You take a deep, shuddering breath and lean in closer. "Wrecker. Please."

"It's nothing," Wrecker mutters, and his shoulders hunch. He doesn't look at you, and his hands clench into fists.

"It's not nothing."

You hesitate, then gently rest your hand on his cheek. He flinches, and for a moment, your stomach tightens with fear. But then his eyes flick up to yours, and when he sees your face, a pained look crosses his features. His eyes soften, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

"You're not sleeping. I can tell."

"Neither are you," he grunts, and he tries to pull away.

"I'm worried about you," you whisper. You reach out and touch his hand. "Talk to me."

Wrecker looks away. He wipes the tear from his cheek and clears his throat. "Don't be."

"I can't help it." You reach out and touch his hand, and when he flinches, it's like being stabbed through the heart. You draw back and look away. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you."

"I know."

"Just... if you need anything. I'm here."

"I know," he whispers. He looks down at his hands, and the tears are back. He wipes them away, but not before they start rolling down his cheeks. He shakes his head. "I'm a fuckin' mess."

"It's okay."

“It’s not okay,” he snaps. He glares up at you, his brow furrowing, and the pain in his expression is so raw that it takes your breath away. His voice is thick with tears. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," you insist, but your stomach twists and knots at his words. "I trust you."

"You shouldn't."

"Wrecker—"

"What if Rex was right?" Wrecker asks, and his words cut straight through your heart. "What if he's right? What if—what if something happens, and I..."

His voice trails off, and when he looks at you, his eyes are wet. He blinks and swallows, and when he continues, his voice is strained.

"What if the chip took control, and I hurt you? Or Omega? I couldn't..." He chokes and shakes his head, looking away. "I couldn't live with myself."

"Nothing is going to happen," you insist, and when Wrecker doesn't answer, your heart sinks. You climb up onto the bed and wrap your arms around him, pulling him against you. He rests his forehead against yours, and the tears are streaming freely down his cheeks. You kiss his cheek and reach up to brush away the tears, but there are too many. You wipe away a few, but the others just keep coming, and Wrecker lets out a soft, miserable noise. "Oh, Wrecker."

He doesn't answer. He turns his face into the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and buries his face against you.

"I can't lose you," he whispers, his voice thick. "Not again."

"You won't," you murmur. "I promise. You won't lose me."

You can't be sure that's true, but you don't know what else to say. Wrecker holds you tightly, and you wrap your arms around him and kiss the side of his neck, and then his cheek, his shoulder, his chest, his lips. You want him to know how much you care, how much you need him. How much you love him.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say as your own tears spill over. You squeeze him tight and bury your face against his neck. "You won't lose me."

"If anything happened to you..." Wrecker shudders, and his grip on you tightens. "I couldn't handle it. If something happened, I couldn't—"

He stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He presses his face into your hair and squeezes you tightly. His voice is small, almost lost in the darkness.

"I love you."

You freeze. For a moment, your heart stutters, and you feel like your lungs have stopped working. He's never said it before. Not in words, anyway. You’ve known it for a long time, but to hear him say it, even in a moment like this, is something else entirely. It makes you ache.

"I love you," Wrecker repeats, and then his face scrunches up and his words spill out in a rush. "I've loved you for so long. I love everything about you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the thought of hurting you, or losing you, is too much. I can't. I won't."

"Wrecker." You pull back and take his face in your hands. "Look at me."

"I should have told you earlier," Wrecker mumbles. His words are so slurred together that they're almost unintelligible. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your eyes are filled with tears, and it's hard to see, but you know you need to get close to him, to offer him the same reassurance he's given you countless times. So you slide onto his lap, wrapping your arms around him, and rest your forehead against his.

"I'm not. There was never a good time, not really. But now, right now, I'm glad I heard it." You cup his cheek and brush the tears away. "And I'm glad I can tell you now. Because I love you too. So much. And I need you to know that. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

You press your lips to his, and he responds instantly, returning the kiss with a hunger that catches you off guard. It's intense and overwhelming, and he pulls you tighter against him, like he's trying to merge the two of you together. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his fingers splayed across your lower back, and he groans into the kiss. It's the most intense and passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared, and it leaves you gasping for breath.

"I love you," you repeat, and when he looks at you, his eyes are bright. He leans in and kisses your forehead, then rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispers. "No matter what. I promise."

"I know." You press a soft kiss to his jaw, then rest your head on his shoulder. "And I won't let anything happen to you. We're in this together. I'm here, no matter what."

Wrecker doesn't reply. He just nods and wraps his arms around you, leaning back until the two of you are lying down. He pulls you on top of him, and when you shift, the movement is enough to send a shiver through him.

He presses his face into your hair and holds you close, and for a long time, the two of you stay like that, holding each other. It's a little awkward, with your legs tangled together and the bunk too small for the two of you, but it feels right. It feels good. Safe.

 "I love you,” you whisper again, and Wrecker's arms tighten around you. He kisses the side of your neck, and his breath tickles the hairs on the back of your neck. You snuggle deeper into his embrace and close your eyes.

"Love you," Wrecker mumbles. 

The way he says it is so soft, so full of adoration, that your heart breaks a little. You love him. You love him so much. You never thought you'd get to say the words, never thought it would be possible, but now that it's out there, the words come so easily, like they've always been waiting to come out. And the relief of hearing him say them back is almost dizzying.

You stay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, and you listen to the sound of Wrecker's breathing. He falls asleep eventually, and his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. When you're sure he's sleeping, you shift, resting your head against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

You close your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe.

For the first time in a while, sleep comes easily.

As soon as you arrived on Bracca, things took a turn for the worse. You'd all managed to dodge the Scrapper's Guild, but traversing the wreckage of the fallen Venator was a trial in and of itself. There was debris everywhere, and you could hardly breathe in the thick, oppressive air. Every step felt like it could be your last, and you and Hunter couldn't stop sensing something in the murky water below. Something lurking, waiting. And when Wrecker fell in...

He'd nearly drowned. He'd nearly been devoured by that dianoga. You'd thought you'd lost him.

You can't think about it.

He's safe now, and that's all that matters. He's safe, and you can finally breathe again. But the tension is still there, coiled tight in your stomach, and it's not just because of Wrecker. There's something else, something more. 

It's been there since Kaller, a feeling that something terrible is looming. You've felt it before, and it's never been wrong. The Force is trying to warn you, but the warnings are growing more frequent, more intense. Something big is coming, and there's no telling when it will happen, but you're sure it's not good.

You're standing in the back of the medbay, trying to keep out of the way as Tech works on Wrecker. He's running scans and taking readings, and the whole time, he's muttering under his breath. You cast a glance at Rex, who's standing next to you, but his attention is focused on the scene in front of him, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped behind his back.

"You've been quiet," he murmurs, his gaze shifting towards you.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You hesitate. There's no point in keeping it to yourself, and maybe it'll help to get it off your chest.

"The Force is warning me," you say quietly, and Rex nods. "I don't know what it is, but... I can't shake the feeling that something bad is coming."

Rex frowns. "Do the others know?"

You nod, and he turns his gaze back toward the medbay. "Have they said anything?"

"Hunter knows," you say, and the words catch in your throat. "But... he's been keeping his distance."

Rex glances at you. His expression is unreadable.

"They all are," you whisper, and the admission is almost painful. You look away, unable to meet his gaze, and you have to fight the urge to cry. "I don't know what to do."

"You're worried," Rex says. It's not a question.

"Yeah," you reply, and a chill runs through you. You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging tightly, and take a shaky breath. “But it’s not just that. The Force is warning me. They... they could be in danger. All of them."

You swallow, and when you speak again, your voice is quiet.

"All of us."

He studies you for a moment, then looks back at Tech. He's still working, but now he's talking, and whatever he's saying is enough to pull a groan out of Wrecker. Rex watches them for a moment, his expression thoughtful, then looks back at you. His expression is grim.

 "How bad is it?"

You don't answer at first. The truth is, you're not sure. But Rex waits patiently, his gaze never leaving your face. Finally, you take a deep breath and force the words out.

"Bad," you say at last. You can't hide the fear in your voice. "Whatever it is, I think it's really bad."

Rex doesn't reply, but you can see the worry on his face. He knows what you're capable of, and he's seen firsthand the things you can do when the Force moves through you. If you're afraid, he's got every reason to be scared, too.

The two of you are silent, and when you can't bear it any longer, you break the silence.

"Do you believe in fate?" you ask.

Rex raises an eyebrow, surprised. He looks back at Tech, then shakes his head.

"Not really. I mean, maybe. Sometimes," he admits, and there's a hint of a smile on his lips. "But I try not to think about it too much."

You nod. "I can't help it."

"Why's that?"

"Because... sometimes, I think it's meant to be. Like, everything that happens is part of some bigger plan, and I can't change it,” you mutter. Your eyes drop to the floor. "All is as the Force wills it, and all that. But I don't know. It's... scary. It makes me feel helpless."

Rex doesn't reply at first. His brow furrows, and for a moment, he seems troubled. He looks over at the others, then back at you, and his expression softens.

"I know what you mean," he says, his voice is gentle. "But whatever it is, we'll handle it."

His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and you look at him. His face is serious, and the look in his eyes is reassuring. But he can't give you the answers you want, and the feeling of uncertainty lingers. You turn, pulling away from him, and your gaze falls on the others.

"Yeah," you say, but the word comes out sounding weak. Your eyes meet Wrecker's, and the concern in his expression is enough to make your heart clench. You don't want to worry him. You can't. Not after everything he's been through. You force a smile and say the words you don’t mean, knowing he can hear you. "We'll be fine."

It sounds hollow even to your own ears, but Wrecker relaxes, and the look of worry fades from his eyes. You look away, unable to bear the guilt gnawing at your stomach, and the smile fades from your face.

You know that if something happens, if something goes wrong, he'll blame himself. You don't want that. You don't want him to feel guilty, but the truth is, you're scared. For the first time, you're genuinely terrified. And not just for the Batch.

You're terrified for yourself. For the first time, you have something to lose. Your life, your happiness. You've never had that before.

And you don't want to lose it.

But the truth is, there's nothing you can do. You have to face the future, whatever it may bring, and pray that things turn out okay.

Rex's gaze flicks between you and Wrecker. He can see the concern in Wrecker's face, the worry in yours. His eyes are filled with sadness. Regret.

"I'm sorry," he says. "About before. I didn't..."

His voice trails off, and his brow furrows.

"I should have been more tactful," he says finally, and the corners of his mouth twitch up. He looks away, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft. "It's not an easy thing to talk about."

"No," you agree. "It's not."

He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You both know there's nothing to say. There's no point in arguing or talking about what might happen. No point in making promises or predictions. There's only the present, the future unknown. So instead, Rex just squeezes your shoulder once more before letting his hand fall away. 

He moves to stand near Hunter, and the two of them start talking quietly. You watch them for a moment, but they're too far away for you to hear, so you turn your attention back to Wrecker and Tech.

Wrecker is groaning and wincing, his face contorted with pain as he hunches over. He looks miserable, and you want to comfort him, but Tech is moving him from one piece of equipment to another, and there's no room for you. 

Omega is hovering nearby, a look of concern on her face. She's wringing her hands, and her gaze darts between the two of you. She wants to help, and she's doing her best, but there's only so much any of you can do. You walk over to place your hand on her shoulder and try to give her a reassuring smile, but it feels forced.

You hate seeing him like this. You hate feeling helpless.

"Relax," Tech says as he prepares the surgical laser. "This won't hurt a bit."

Wrecker glares at him, and the look on his face would be amusing if not for the circumstances. Tech gives him an apologetic smile, then looks back at you.

"Could I trouble you to assist?"

"Of course," you say, and step closer.

"Hold his shoulders, please."

You do as he asks, moving to stand behind the bed, and hold Wrecker's shoulders firmly. He looks up at you, and the misery on his face is clear. It's hard to see him like this, but he needs you. So you do your best. You smile down at him, and when he smiles back, the tightness in your chest loosens, and the fear recedes, a little. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead.

"It'll be alright," you whisper. "You're going to be okay."

Wrecker takes a shuddering breath and nods, and you feel his body tense as Tech steps closer. You let out a slow, steady breath, and close your eyes, trying to impart as much calm through the Force as possible. Wrecker's shoulders relax, and his breathing slows.

Tech is talking again, and the sound of the laser whines, then there's a flash of light. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and the air around you fills with static.

"You're in direct violation of Order 66," Wrecker growls, and your eyes snap open.

He lurches forward, his face contorting, and the force of him breaking from your hold sends you stumbling backwards. Wrecker grabs Tech by the throat, the laser slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. Tech tries to grab Wrecker's hand, but Wrecker is stronger, and he shoves him backwards, slamming him into the wall hard enough that it dents.

He's staring at his brother with cold, empty eyes, and you're frozen, unable to move or speak. There's no sign of the man you love, no trace of the gentle, caring, passionate man who's loved and cherished you since the moment you met. His face is devoid of emotion, his eyes blank and dead. There's no recognition, no hint of compassion or mercy. 

Nothing but a cold, empty void.

Your blood runs cold, and your stomach lurches. This isn't him. This can't be him.

"No! Stop!" you shout. Your voice cracks, and when Wrecker's gaze snaps towards you, a cold sweat breaks out across your skin. His eyes are dark, and there's something else in his expression. Something that scares the hell out of you.

Wrecker's lips curl into a snarl, and the anger is so fierce and sudden that it catches you off guard. You take a step forward, but Rex catches your arm, stopping you. You don't look at him. You can't look away from Wrecker, from his eyes. 

His grip on Tech's throat tightens. Tech's hands scrabble at his hand, and his feet kick uselessly against the wall.

"Please! Wrecker, stop! You're killing him!"

For a moment, you think you've gotten through to him. For a moment, you see something in his eyes, a flash of recognition, a spark of life. But it's gone as soon as it appears, and he throws Tech across the room with a snarl. 

You jerk your arm free from Rex's grip and rush forward, but Echo catches you around the waist and pulls you back behind cover. You struggle against him, desperate to help, but he's too strong.

"Wrecker!" Hunter cries. "Stop! Fight it!"

Wrecker is beyond hearing. He grabs his blaster and fires wildly, narrowly missing Rex as he dives behind the crates next to you, Hunter and Omega close behind. Your heart is pounding, and you're shaking so hard your teeth are chattering. Omega is trembling too, and she's staring blankly ahead with wide, frightened eyes. She looks like she's on the verge of tears.

"He'll destroy the equipment if we don't get him out of here," Echo says, his voice strained.

"You're all traitors!" Wrecker bellows.

He keeps firing, and it's a miracle no one's been hit yet. Rex pops his head up, ducking back down just in time to avoid being shot.

"You need to run," he says to you. "He's not going to stop until he kills you, and I don't think any of us are going to survive if that happens."

You shake your head. "I can't leave him."

"There's no other way. We'll distract him, but you need to go. Now!"

"No!" You shove Echo away and lunge towards Wrecker. Hunter is in front of you in an instant, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you back.

"Stop," he says. "Listen to Rex. Please. He'll kill you. Do you understand? You have to go."

"He needs me." You can feel the tears coming, and when Hunter sees them, his face softens.

"He does," he agrees. "But right now, he's a danger to you. He's a danger to everyone. You have to go. I'll keep him safe. I promise. But right now, he's going to kill you."

He holds your gaze, and the pain in his eyes is so raw and intense that you feel like your heart is breaking.

"What if you can't stop him?" you demand, your voice cracking. "What if you die? I can't let him do this."

Hunter doesn't answer. He's not even looking at you anymore. His attention is focused on his rampaging brother, and he's getting ready to strike. You can see it in his body language, the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw.

"Omega, stay with Tech," he says, ignoring you. "Make sure he's alright. We'll handle Wrecker."

Omega nods, and the two of you exchange a long, sorrowful look.

"It'll be okay," she whispers. "He'll be okay."

"I... I hope so."

You're not sure how much of that you believe.

"Go," Hunter urges. "We'll find you. I promise."

"Hunter—"

"Go."

You swallow hard and nod, and then you're running, narrowly dodging the blaster bolts thudding into the doorframe as you dash out the doors. You hear Wrecker's howl of rage, and then the sound of blaster fire as the others charge him, and the sound makes you sob.

"No," you whisper, and then you're running.

You're not sure where to go, and the ship is a blur around you as you dart down the halls, tears streaming down your cheeks. You run until you can't run anymore, and then you stumble, your chest heaving and your lungs burning. Your legs are weak, and the muscles in your thighs are aching, but you push on, determined not to give up. 

You have to get away. You have to stay alive. If you're alive, you can help him.

But the further you get from Wrecker, the more you feel like your heart is being ripped out. You want to be with him, to save him, but Hunter was right. You have no chance of defeating him without killing him, and the thought of you dying, of leaving him alone, terrifies you.

So you run.

You don't stop until the sound of his blaster fire has faded, and even then, you don't dare stop moving. You're sobbing uncontrollably now, and it's hard to see. Your vision is blurred, and the tears are pouring down your cheeks. You have no idea where you are, and every corridor and door looks the same. It's impossible to tell which way leads out, or even if there is an exit. All you know is that you're lost, and for the first time in a long time, you’re alone.

You finally come to a stop and lean against the wall, gasping for breath. You feel sick, and the walls are spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the wall, willing the world to stop.

But it doesn't. And it's not just the room that's spinning. It's everything. Your whole world is spinning out of control, and you’re helpless to stop it. You've lost everything. You've lost your home, your friends, and now you've lost the man you love. He's been taken from you, and there's nothing you can do.

You're powerless.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest is tight, and it feels like your heart is shattering. You can't breathe. You can't think. You just stand there, crying and shaking and feeling completely, utterly useless.

After what feels like hours, the tears begin to slow. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and the knot in your stomach loosens, just a little.

There's still a chance, you tell yourself. They'll stop him. They'll get him out of there. Wrecker will be okay. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

And then you sense him.

Wrecker's warm presence in the Force is gone, replaced by something cold and empty. He’s always felt warm, bright and strong, but now there's nothing there. Nothing but a cold, hollow void. A darkness so intense that it makes your skin crawl.

Your head snaps up, and you can feel him, a shadow looming in the corridor behind you. His presence is like a black hole, sucking the life and warmth out of the room, and you can't move. You can't breathe. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Your instincts are screaming at you to run, but you can't. You won't.

You don't know if it's stupid or brave, but you turn to face him.

You move slowly, terrified of what you'll see, and when your eyes meet his, a shiver runs down your spine.

He's standing there, his breathing labored and his body tensed, and he's staring at you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. In the dim light of the wrecked ship, his face is barely visible, but his eyes are shining with a cold, cruel light. There's no recognition in them, no hint of the man you love, and for a moment, you can't believe what you're seeing.

But the hatred radiating off him is real, a tangible thing, and it's enough to make you sick. It's worse than any injury or torture. Worse than anything you've ever experienced. It's a raw, visceral hatred, and it's directed right at you.

You stand your ground, your hands shaking, and you clench them into fists.

"Wrecker," you say, and the words sound small and weak. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrows, and his jaw tenses.

"I should have done more," you continue, and the words catch in your throat. You're choking on the lump that's formed there, and you swallow, fighting back the urge to sob. "I should have protected you."

Wrecker doesn't answer. His gaze flickers over your face, taking in your tear-stained cheeks and the fear in your eyes. You can feel his hatred, the cold rage coiled tight in his muscles. He's barely holding himself back, and the tension in his body is palpable.

"Please," you whisper. "You have to fight this. This isn't you."

He doesn't reply. He takes a step towards you, and you tense, ready to defend yourself. You don't want to hurt him. You don't want to hurt him. You can't.

"Wrecker, please. Don't do this." Your voice cracks, and when he doesn't react, the tears start flowing again. "I love you. I need you. Please, don't do this."

Wrecker pauses, and his eyes widen. The hatred in his eyes wavers, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that you've reached him. But then his lip curls, and the hatred comes surging back. It's stronger this time, fueled by a rage so intense that it takes your breath away.

"Traitor," he growls, and then he lunges at you.

He moves so fast that you barely have time to react. You dodge out of the way, barely avoiding his grasp, and his hand closes around empty air. He snarls and whirls, his eyes burning with hatred. You take a step back, and the tears are streaming down your face.

"Stop this!" you cry. "Wrecker, please! I don't want to hurt you!"

He doesn't listen. He moves with a speed and grace that belies his size, and he's on you in an instant. You manage to avoid him again, but only just. He slams into the wall next to you, and the impact makes the metal buckle. The sound is deafening, and it sends a shockwave through the room. The walls creak and groan, and dust and debris rain down from the ceiling.

Wrecker's head snaps towards you, his eyes burning with a cold, cruel fire, and your stomach lurches. His lips curl into a snarl, and then he's coming for you again. 

You turn and run, darting down the corridor, and he's right behind you. You can hear the pounding of his boots on the floor, and the sound of his ragged breathing. He's gaining on you, and you don't know if you can keep ahead of him without hurting him. 

Your eyes are wide and desperate, and your heart is racing. You're terrified, but you force yourself to push that fear aside, to try and remember your training. You can't let it control you. You can't let it consume you. 

If you do, you'll never save him. You'll never get him back. You have to stay focused. You have to stay calm.

But it's so hard.

Wrecker roars, and you feel the air rush past you as he grabs at your arm. You jerk free, and his fingers close around empty air. You twist and slam your shoulder into his side, and he stumbles, hissing with rage. You reach out with the Force and shove him back, giving yourself just enough room to move, and then you're running again.

"Please," you sob. "Please, stop."

He doesn't.

You dodge around a corner, and the floor suddenly disappears beneath your feet. Your eyes go wide, and you cry out as the world drops out from under you. You tumble down the sudden drop, landing hard on your shoulder, and the breath is knocked from your lungs. You gasp, pain lancing through your shoulder, and for a moment, you're too stunned to move.

The sound of boots pounding on the floor above snaps you out of your daze, and you roll onto your back, pushing yourself to your feet. Your head whips around, taking in your surroundings, and it only takes you a moment to realize where you are. You're in the cargo bay, and the doors leading out to the planet are mere meters away.

Your heart leaps. You can get out. You can get help.

But you hesitate, and the feeling of his presence in the Force is enough to make your blood run cold. You dart behind a stack of crates just as Wrecker lands on the floor in front of you. He hits the ground hard, and the impact is enough to make the floor underneath you shake.

Your hand clasps over your mouth to hide your surprised gasp. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is racing. The tears are still falling, and you're trembling so hard that your knees are shaking.

The sudden silence is almost deafening, and the only sound is the distant hum of the ship's engines. You don't dare to breathe. You can't make a sound.

"I know you're here," Wrecker says. His voice is low and menacing. "You can't hide forever."

He steps forward, his boots crunching on broken glass. His footsteps are slow, methodical, like he's stalking his prey. He's close. So close. Too close.

"Come out, traitor," he snarls.

You shrink back against the crates. Your heart is pounding so hard that you're sure he can hear it. Your palms are sweating, and the crate next to you is slick with condensation. You have nowhere to go, and no way out. If you try to run, he'll catch you. And if you try to fight, you'll have to kill him.

"I'll find you," Wrecker growls. His voice is low and menacing, and it sends a chill down your spine. "You can't hide from me."

He moves closer, and the sound of his footsteps seems to grow louder with each passing second. You hold your breath, and your hand drifts toward your lightsaber on your hip on instinct before you clench your fist and drop your arm. You can't. You can't use it. You won't.

You won't hurt him.

You'll die first.

Wrecker moves around the crates, and his shadow falls across the wall. You can see his outline, and the hatred emanating off him is like a physical thing. It's palpable, suffocating, and it's enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You hear a thud, and a crate falls to the floor with a loud crash. You flinch, and your hand goes to your lightsaber again, but you stop yourself. You can't use it. You can't. Not against him. Not like this.

Another crate topples. And another. And another. Wrecker's getting closer. You can hear him breathing, and your heart is pounding so hard that your head is spinning. You can't see him, but you know he's there, lurking just out of sight.

He's so close.

So close.

He stops, and the room is deathly silent. You can't hear his breathing, and he's motionless, as if he's waiting for you to make a sound. The seconds tick by, and the tension in the air is so thick that it's almost impossible to breathe.

You can't take it.

"Please," you whimper, and the word comes out as a sob.

He freezes, and for a moment, everything is still.

And then the air shifts. You sense a sudden movement, and a fraction of a second later, the crate above you explodes. You yelp and dive to the side, rolling out of the way, and the crate is reduced to splinters.

 Your scramble to your feet, your back slamming against the wall, and you look up. Wrecker is standing over you, and his eyes are cold, dark pools. His hulking form trembles with rage, and he rushes towards you, his hand curled into a fist. You duck under the blow, and your hand flashes out, connecting with his chin. He stumbles, but he doesn't stop. 

He lunges at you, and you dodge, his hand catching your tunic and ripping the fabric. The sound of it tearing is deafening, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he growls.

"Stop!" you plead.

He doesn't.

"Traitor," he hisses. He's on you again, and this time, you can't avoid him. 

Wrecker hits you in the stomach, and the breath leaves your lungs in a rush. Pain blooms through your torso, and your knees buckle. He swings again, and you throw up your arms, blocking the blow. The force of it knocks you to the ground, and your head smacks against the hard floor.

His fingers wrap around your throat, and he lifts you off the ground with one hand. Wrecker pulls you up close to his face, and the look in his eyes is terrifying. It's pure, unbridled hatred, and it's directed at you.

"Wrecker," you manage to croak. Your eyes search his desperate to find any sign of the man you love, and he growls, his grip tightening.

"Wrecker, please." Tears stream down your face, and you claw at his hands, struggling to breathe. Your lungs are burning, and the pain in your head is almost unbearable. He's going to kill you. He's going to kill you, and there's nothing you can do to stop him.

You know that your next breath will be your last, and you feel a strange sense of peace wash over you. There are worse fates than dying by his hands. Worse things than losing your life. You're not afraid. You're not angry. All you feel is sorrow, and a deep, aching love for the man in front of you. The man who's been your whole world, your heart, and the only home you've ever known.

If this is how it ends, so be it. At least you got to know him.

"Wrecker," you choke out, your voice barely audible. "I... I love..."

His fingers tighten, and everything goes black.

Your eyes flutter open, and the world swims back into focus. There's a dull ache in your skull, and the air feels strangely thin. Your chest is heaving, and it takes you a moment to realize that you're not breathing.

No, you're hyperventilating.

Wrecker.

His name is on your lips, and you gasp before a terrible, aching pain lances through your skull. You try to move, but your body is heavy.

You're lying on your side. The ground beneath you is hard, and the air is thick and heavy. There's a bitter taste in your mouth, and your throat is burning. You try to take a deep breath, but it's like someone's squeezing the life out of you.

"Hey. Easy."

The voice is familiar. Soothing. But it doesn't register.

Someone rolls you onto your back, and the movement sends a jolt of pain through your body. You gasp, and the air burns. You can't see anything, but you feel something cool and wet being pressed against your face. It hurts, and you try to pull away, but a gentle hand holds you still.

"Shhh. Relax."

The voice is familiar, but your mind is too fuzzy to place it. Your head is throbbing, and your throat feels like it's on fire. You can't focus. You can't think. All you can do is lay there and try to breathe.

"Stay still. I'm trying to clean you up."

You try to open your eyes, but everything is blurry. A pair of dark brown eyes stares down at you, but it's not the mismatched ones you're looking for.

Rex.

He's holding something cold and wet against your face, and the sensation is painful, but soothing. You take a few shallow breaths, the air finally starting to reach your lungs. You cough, and it's like sandpaper being scraped against the back of your throat.

"Don't try to talk," Rex says. "You need rest."

Rest. The word echoes through your head. Your thoughts are jumbled, and you can't seem to focus.

"What... What happened?" you manage to croak. Your voice is hoarse, and your words come out sounding more like a growl than anything else.

"I think it's better if I don't tell you," Rex says. He's frowning, and the look on his face makes your heart clench. "Just focus on breathing."

You take another breath, and this one is a little easier. The pressure in your head is fading, and your vision is starting to clear.

"Wrecker," you rasp. "Is he...?"

"Yeah," Rex says softly. "He's... He's okay."

"Where is he?"

"We got his chip out, and the others," Rex tells you. "Tech is treating his injuries now."

There's a catch in his voice, and you can tell that something is wrong. Something terrible. You feel a sharp stab of panic, and you try to sit up, but the room spins. Rex grabs your shoulders and eases you back down.

"Just stay still," he says. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine," you argue, but your voice is weak, and the effort of talking makes your head spin. Rex shakes his head.

"No, you're not." Rex sighs and presses a damp cloth to your forehead. It's cool and soothing, and the pain begins to ease a little. "Just give it a minute."

"Rex..."

"He's okay. I promise." He smiles at you, but it’s forced, and there's a sadness in his eyes that makes your heart twist. "But he's not doing well. We're all gonna need some time."

Your heart sinks. You know what that means. Rex is telling you that Wrecker needs space. That he's not himself. That he's ashamed and guilty and doesn't want to face you. It hurts. More than the physical pain, more than the headache, the exhaustion, and the fear, it's a deeper, sharper kind of pain. The kind that cuts to the bone, and you can feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

"I understand," you say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

Rex's smile falters, and the sadness in his eyes intensifies.

"Hey, now," he murmurs. "It'll be okay."

"No. It won't." Your voice is thick, and the tears are flowing freely now. You can't stop them. You don't even try. Rex pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"He tried to kill me," you choke out. "He... He was going to..."

Rex holds you, and he doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. The pain is written all over his face, and he knows exactly what you're going through. He was there. He watched Wrecker lose control, and he had to watch him almost kill the woman he loves. He had to watch him almost kill his friend.

"I'm so sorry," Rex whispers. He holds you close, and his hand moves gently up and down your back, soothing you. "I'm so sorry."

You cry until your throat is raw and your lungs are burning, and when the tears finally stop, you're exhausted. Your body is limp, and your head is pounding. You lean against Rex, and his arms tighten around you.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get you up."

He helps you to your feet, and you wince. Every muscle in your body is aching, your throat is sore, and the wound on the back of your head is throbbing. You feel weak, and the ground seems to sway under your feet. Rex holds you steady while the feeling slowly fades.

"I've got you," he says. Then, slowly, he leads you towards the medbay. You lean against him, and with each step, you can feel the guilt and shame and anger radiating off him in waves. It's overwhelming, and it makes your heart ache.

"Rex," you murmur. "Are you alright?"

"No," he admits. "But I will be."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

"It's not your fault," he says, but you can hear the bitterness in his voice, and the resentment. He blames himself for what happened. He's taking the weight of the entire situation on his shoulders.

You want to tell him that it's not his fault, either, but you're too tired. So you lean against him, and let him guide you to the medbay.

The door is open, and Tech is inside, tending to a  cut on Hunter’s face. Echo is helping, and Omega is sitting in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looks exhausted, tears staining her cheeks, but her face brightens when she sees you. 

She scrambles to her feet and rushes towards you, throwing her arms around your waist. The impact sends a shock of pain through your ribs, but you bite your lip and hide your wince. She's clinging to you like a lifeline, and you can feel the tremor in her body as she tries not to cry. You hold her close, stroking her hair, and the ache in your heart deepens.

"Hey," you murmur. "You alright?"

Omega nods against you, her fingers digging into the back of your tunic.

"Are you?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you lie. "I'm okay."

"You're not," she says, and the hurt in her voice is enough to make your throat tighten. "But it's okay. We're here."

She hugs you tighter, and you lean into the embrace, your heart aching. You wish it was as simple as that, but nothing is. Nothing will be. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. You hold her close, closing your eyes, and her presence in the Force is warm and bright, just like always. 

You let yourself get lost in it, and the pain begins to ebb, if only a little, before you open your eyes again.

"Where's Wrecker?" you ask. Your voice is soft, but everyone in the room hears it and the tension is palpable. They exchange glances, their expressions grim.

"He's resting," Tech says carefully. "His injuries are relatively minor, and the surgery was successful, but his mental state is... concerning."

You swallow hard. You knew it was bad, but hearing Tech say it out loud is different. It makes it real, and the weight of that reality is suffocating. You take a shaky breath and nod, but the tears are threatening again, and your voice is unsteady.

"Can I see him?"

"He doesn't want to see anyone," Echo says. His voice is low, his words measured. He's... He's not himself. Not yet."

"I know." Your voice cracks. "I just... I want him to know that I'm here. That I care. That I..."

"Give him time," Hunter murmurs, his expression pained. "He's not in a good place."

"But I—"

"No." Rex's tone is gentle, but firm. "It's not a good idea. Trust me. He needs space. He needs to figure out how to live with what he did."

"It wasn't him," you protest, but even as you say it, you know that it's not entirely true. It was him. Just not the him you know.

"I know," he says. "But it was his hands that almost killed you. And that's hard to come to terms with."

You swallow hard and nod. You know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't ease the pain in your chest or the ache in your head. You want to see him, to talk to him, but you know it's not what he needs. It's not what you need.

You let out a shuddering breath, your shoulders sagging. You're exhausted, and the world is spinning, and all you want to do is collapse into a ball and cry.

Tech approaches, and he hesitates for a moment before his hand settles gently on your shoulder. His eyes are sympathetic, but the frown on his face is deep, his expression troubled.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"I'm okay," you answer. The lie comes easily, almost automatically. It's a reflex. One that has been well-honed over the years, but one that's not very convincing. Not anymore.

He nods and studies you for a moment. Then, he glances at Rex.

"Help her onto the cot," he says. "I'll do a quick examination and treat her injuries."

"No," you protest. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep."

"You're not fine," Rex counters. He's not unkind, but his tone leaves no room for argument. "You were attacked, and you have a head injury. We need to make sure that you're okay."

"I am. Really."

"We need to make sure," Tech insists.

"I'm not—"

"You're getting checked out," Rex says firmly. "And that's final."

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your lips. You know he's right. Your entire body aches, and every breath is painful. You're not fine. You know it. But the idea of hearing it from someone else is too much. It's too real.

Rex gently guides you towards the cot, his arm around your waist, and you let him. There's no point in fighting, not when the others are worried about you. So you let him help you onto the bed, and Omega sits next to you, her small hand finding yours.

Tech begins his examination, and Rex hovers nearby, watching closely. You feel small and fragile and weak, and it's a strange feeling. You're used to being strong, to fighting your own battles. But now, you can barely stand on your own. It's a reminder of how fragile you really are, and it makes your chest tighten. No matter how good of a Jedi you can claim to be, it's impossible to ignore that the only reason you're alive is because Rex stepped in and saved your life.

"You have a mild concussion," Tech reports, and his words pull you out of your thoughts. "Several bruised ribs, and multiple contusions." He pauses, and his gaze shifts to your throat. "And those bruises will need time to heal."

Your hand reaches up, and you touch the spot where Wrecker had been holding you. The skin is tender, and the contact makes you wince.

"Yeah," Rex says, anger clear in his voice. "That's going to be a tough one to cover up."

You look away.

"It could have been worse," Tech points out.

"It was bad enough,” he snaps. When you flinch, Rex's eyes widen, regret flickering across his features. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It’s okay." Your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. You swallow, but the lump in your throat remains. "I know."

Tech moves to examine the bruise on your stomach, his touch gentle.

"We can apply bacta to the worst of the bruises," Tech offers. "That will help with the healing process."

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. You close your eyes and try not to think about it. About the way Wrecker had been staring at you. The coldness in his eyes. The rage. The hatred. The way his hands had tightened around your throat. The way he had been intent on killing you.

"Can I help you?"

Tech's voice is soft, and he sounds unsure of himself. It's such a stark contrast to his usual confidence, and it makes your chest tighten. This is hard for him, too. Hard for all of them.

"I'm okay," you murmur. "Really."

"You don’t have to be," Tech says. His tone is gentle, but there's an edge to it. “We understand, and we'll do our best to make sure that you're taken care of."

You open your eyes and look at him, and the sympathy in his gaze makes you want to cry. You don't want to be the one everyone's worrying about. You don't want to be the helpless victim, the one who needs to be coddled and comforted. You're a Jedi. You're supposed to be the one taking care of others, not the other way around.

But there's nothing you can do. Nothing you can say. So you nod, letting the tears spill down your cheeks, and Tech places a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you," you whisper, and the words come out sounding more like a sob.

"Of course," Tech replies, and there's an unfamiliar warmth in his voice. "You're one of us, and we take care of our own."

He turns back to his instruments, and you lay down, resting your head on the pillow. The medbay is quiet, save for the soft beeps and whirrs of the machines, and the familiar sounds are oddly comforting. Tech continues to examine and treat you, his movements careful and precise. He works silently, and the others are gathered nearby, their attention focused on you. It's strange, but it feels nice, being the center of their concern. It makes you feel safe, and it eases some of the pain and fear and uncertainty.

You're surrounded by your family. By the people who love you and care about you. And as the exhaustion overwhelms you, and the pain fades into a dull ache, you realize that's all that really matters. You may not be fine, but you're alive, and you have people that care about you. And that's more than some can say.

It's been three days since the chip incident, and things are... strained. You've barely seen Wrecker, and when you have, he hasn't said a word. He won't look at you. He won't even be in the same room as you. It hurts, but you're trying to be patient. Trying to give him the space he needs. But it's hard, and every day, the ache in your chest grows a little bit stronger.

You'd hesitated to say goodbye to Rex, and he'd again offered to take you with him. To keep you safe, to give you a place to heal. And again, you'd refused, promising him that things would be okay. And they would. You're certain. They had to be. 

But the entire time you'd spoken to him in hushed whispers, you could feel Wrecker's eyes on you. When you'd finally pulled away from Rex to board the Marauder, Wrecker had turned on his heel, disappearing into the ship without a word. He hadn't so much as glanced at you, let alone said anything.

The pain of that had cut deeper than the bruises on your throat, but you'd hidden it, plastering a smile on your face for the others, even though they all knew better.

The daring escape you'd made from Bracca had only served to complicate matters, and the entire team was on edge after encountering Crosshair again. The tension in the air is thick, and it seems like everyone is walking on eggshells, afraid of setting someone off. 

It's a far cry from the usual banter, teasing, and camaraderie that's typical aboard the ship, and the only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional beep from the instrument panel.

No one has spoken in hours, and the silence is oppressive. You haven't left your bunk since that morning, the high vantage point allowing you to see everything without having to interact with anyone.

It's lonely, but it's also safe.

No one bothers you, and you're free to let your mind wander. You watch the others, and the sight of them fills you with a strange mixture of emotions. You're proud of them, and the love you feel for them is almost overwhelming. But there's also a sense of loss.

What happened was a reminder that everything could change in an instant, and you're not ready for that. You're not ready to lose any of them. Not when they're the only family you have left.

You close your eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and let the feeling wash over you. It's a bittersweet sort of sorrow, and it makes your heart ache. You know that they're not going anywhere, that the five of them are a force to be reckoned with, but you can't help the anxiety that lingers, the fear that something might go wrong. You've already lost so much. You can't lose them, too.

The sound of footsteps approaching the bunk pulls you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes, expecting to see Echo. But the figure in the doorway isn't him.

"I'm sorry."

Wrecker's voice is barely a whisper, but it's loud enough to startle you, and you sit up, wincing as your ribs protest. He’s standing below, looking up at you with his mismatched eyes. His eyes are wide and pleading, and he's fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You can tell he's nervous, but there's a hint of something else, too. Sadness. Guilt. Shame.

"It's okay," you say automatically, but the words feel hollow.

"No. It's not." His voice is low, and there's an edge of desperation to it, and his hands squeeze into fists. You can feel the anger radiating off him, and it makes your blood run cold. He looks like he wants to punch a hole in the wall, and you have no doubt that he could if he wanted to. He could tear the whole ship apart. He could tear you apart.

You swallow, but your throat is dry, and the fear is starting to build.

"I could have killed you," Wrecker continues, his voice shaking. “I... I wanted to kill you. I was gonna..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence, and his shoulders slump. The anger fades, and the shame is so intense that you feel it like a physical blow. Wrecker closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face, his shoulders trembling.

"I tried to kill my own brothers," he says, and his voice cracks. "And I... I almost..."

He takes a shaky breath, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and he shakes his head. You're at a loss for words, and all you can do is watch him struggle with the weight of his emotions. You want to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but you can't. You're just as broken as he is.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and his voice is thick with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Wrecker..."

He looks up at you, and the raw anguish in his eyes makes your heart twist.

"Wrecker, please, it's okay. I know it wasn't—"

"No. It's not." He shakes his head, his expression pained. "It wasn't me. But it was."

You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand, cutting you off.

"I remember everything. I remember wanting to hurt you. I remember how good it felt. How right." His eyes darken, his lips curling into a snarl. "I'm a monster."

"No, Wrecker," you insist. "No. You're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You're not," you repeat, more firmly this time. You haven’t used the Force in days, but it flows through you now, warm and reassuring, and you can feel the conviction in your own words. "You're a good man. You're not a monster. I saw you try to fight it. I saw the struggle. I know what's in your heart. And it's not evil."

"I should have fought harder." His fists clench, and he hangs his head. "I'm supposed to protect you, but I... I'm the one who tried to..."

"Wrecker."

Your voice is sharp, but he doesn't respond. He's lost in his own guilt, his own self-loathing, and the weight of it is crushing him.

"Please, Wrecker, stop." You slide off the bunk, landing lightly on your feet, and you approach him, reaching for his hands. He pulls away, and it feels like a knife in your heart. "You don't have to apologize. I'm not mad at you. I'm worried about you."

"You should be." His voice is flat, his words coming out in a growl. "I tried to kill you."

"But you didn't."

"I would have." He turns away from you, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tense. "If Rex hadn't stepped in, I would have."

You reach out, laying a hand on his arm, but he flinches, jerking away from your touch. It's a rejection, plain and simple, but it's not unexpected. He's pulling away, both physically and emotionally, and it's tearing you apart.

"Don't," he says. "Just don't."

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Please, talk to me."

"What's there to talk about?" He sounds bitter, defeated, but he doesn't pull away this time. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," you insist. "You're my hero."

"Don't say that," he mutters.

"It's true. You are.” He starts to speak again, but you’re faster, and your words cut him off. "You saved my life. Over and over again. You've never given up on me, even when the odds were stacked against us. You've always been there for me, no matter what."

He doesn't say anything, but you can tell that your words are affecting him. His shoulders are hunched, his body tense, but there's a tremor in his muscles, a slight shudder. You step closer, pressing yourself against his back, and you wrap your arms around his waist. You hold him tight, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, and you rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.

"I trust you, Wrecker. I know you'd never hurt me willingly. And the truth is, I could've fought back. I could've stopped you. But I didn't. Because I trust you. I trust you with my life. And I always will."

He stiffens, his breath hitching.

"You're not a monster," you continue. "You're not a liability. You're my boyfriend, and you're my best friend. And I'm not afraid of you."

You press a kiss between his shoulder blades, lingering there for a moment. Your throat is tight, your heart racing, and you're filled with an overwhelming sense of affection and devotion. The feelings are strong, almost overwhelming, and you don't try to push them down. You don't try to hide them. You just let them flow through you, let them fill the space between the two of you. 

You've held them back for so long, afraid to show your feelings, afraid to let yourself be vulnerable, but now, the dam has broken, and you're drowning in the intensity of your emotions. There's a warmth spreading through your chest, a kind of peace that you've never felt before, and it's almost euphoric. It's like the first breath after surfacing from a deep dive, and the air is sweet, filling your lungs.

"I love you, Wrecker," you murmur.

"Don't," he growls, but the tension is gone from his body, his muscles relaxing under your touch. He leans back against you, his head dropping forward, his eyes closed.

"I do," you say softly. "I love you. And I'm not afraid."

You hold him, the two of you locked together, neither of you willing to move, afraid that the moment will end. He's trembling, his breathing shallow, his fingers curling around your arms, but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't reject you.

"I trust you," you whisper. "I love you. And nothing will ever change that."

There's a long, heavy silence, and then, finally, he speaks.

"I love you, too."

It's barely a whisper, but the words are clear, and the weight of them makes your heart soar. You tighten your arms around his waist, burying your face in his back, and you feel the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You’re so happy that it almost hurts, the emotions swelling in your chest, making it difficult to breathe. It feels like you're floating, the weight of everything finally lifted.

“I love you so much,” he mutters. “More than anything. But you should be with someone else. Someone safer. Someone who won't..."

"Wrecker, stop." Your voice is firm, and you squeeze him, making him gasp. "I don't want anyone else. I want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hands moving down your arms until his fingers are laced with yours. He squeezes, his grip gentle, and you squeeze back.

"I don't deserve you," he says.

"Yes, you do."

Wrecker lets go of your hands, turning to face you, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are wet, tears streaking his cheeks, but there's a softness in his expression that you haven't seen in a while. He reaches out, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," you chide gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I told you, it's okay."

"But—"

You shake your head, placing a finger over his lips.

"Enough." Your voice is soft, but stern. "No more talking."

His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his features. Then, he gets it, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nods, leaning down, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss is soft, almost tentative, but there's an underlying hunger, a need that makes your skin tingle. You press closer, your arms winding around his neck, the kiss deepening, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip.

He tastes like salt, the tears still drying on his cheeks, and the familiarity is comforting, soothing the ache in your heart. He's home. He's safe. And he loves you. Nothing else matters.

The kiss ends, the two of you gasping for breath, but you don't pull away. You stay close, your foreheads touching, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"I missed you," he murmurs.

"Me, too." You nuzzle his nose, your hands stroking his cheeks. "So much."

"M’sorry."

"I know.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, your fingers caressing the back of his neck. "But you're not responsible for this. None of us are. The only person to blame is the one who put the chips in your heads. You can't be held responsible for what they did."

"I know, but..."

"But nothing," you say, your tone firm. "You're a victim, Wrecker. Just like the rest of us."

He sighs, his shoulders slumping, the tension draining from his body. He's still upset, the guilt is still there, but you can feel it ebbing, the darkness fading.

"I don't blame you. None of us do,” you continue. "We're all just happy that we have you back. We're a family. We take care of each other."

Wrecker gives a small nod, the sadness in his eyes fading a little, replaced by something else. Something warmer, more hopeful.

"You're my family," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "My brothers. Omega. And you."

He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "And I will never stop taking care of you. No matter what."

You bury your face in his shoulder, squeezing him tight. You can feel the tears building again, but they're different this time. They're not a product of pain or loss or fear. They're tears of happiness, of relief, of love. You close your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you, letting yourself get lost in it. You've come so far, endured so much, but here, in his arms, you're finally home.

Wrecker's fingers curl into the back of your shirt, his breathing shallow, his face buried in your hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me."

You pull away, looking up at him, a smile on your lips.

"Never."

He smiles back, the expression brightening his entire face. You can't remember the last time you've seen him look this happy, and the sight fills you with a warm glow. This is where you belong, where you've always belonged. With him. With your family.

You kiss him, long and slow and tender, and when the kiss breaks, the two of you are both gasping for breath, the flush high on your cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice rough.

"I love you, too." You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingertips, your eyes meeting his.

"More than anything," he continues. "And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you. Never again."

His voice is thick with emotion, and there's a fierceness in his gaze, a protectiveness that makes your heart skip a beat. He means it. He'll keep you safe, no matter the cost. And knowing that, believing that, fills you with an overwhelming sense of comfort. It eases the pain, the fear, the anxiety, and for the first time in weeks, you feel... whole.

You're safe. You're loved. You're home. And no matter what happens, no matter how hard things get, that will never change.

"I know." You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and his arms tighten around you. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

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[elyvorg]

The Most Significant Change in AAI2’s Official Localisation (according to me)

Ace Attorney Investigations 2 finally has an official localisation! This is kind of mind-boggling to those of us who played the fan translation and have loved it in that form for years, never expected an official localisation to happen, and now suddenly have to get used to everything about it being Just Slightly Different.

Having played the official localisation in full, I can say that for the most part, it’s even better than the already-excellent fan translation! Most of the lines have just a little bit more colour in them now, and there’s a bunch of small nuances that went over my head before that are emphasised better in the new version. There are some lines I prefer in the fan translation, but they’re vastly outnumbered by all the lines I prefer in the official version. All in all, strongly recommend fans of the fan translation to check out the official version in some form.

However, among these minor lines here and there that I prefer in the fan translation, there is also this one small but much more significant thing from the fan translation which is not present in the official version. I happen to care about this small-but-significant detail a lot, so here is a post explaining exactly why this is a Thing that Matters (to me, at least).

(This will mention major spoilers for the game! Do not click the readmore unless you have experienced the entire story of AAI2 in some form.)

The Thing is this: In the fan translation, Simon refers to his friend as “Knightley”, all the time. Meanwhile, in the official localisation, Simeon always calls him “Bronco”.

Now, I get why the localisers did this. It’s a Japanese cultural thing – in Japanese, it’s common for even close friends to address each other by their surnames, and indeed, Sim(e)on referred to Knight(ley) by his surname in the original Japanese game. This is usually changed into friends using each other’s first names in English localisations, because it feels strange in English to see two close friends addressing each other in what feels like a distant and formal kind of way.

(For example, in The Great Ace Attorney, Ryunosuke and Kazuma addressed each other by their surnames in Japanese, and this was – very correctly – localised to them using each other’s first names in English. It would feel wrong to an English speaker for these best friends not to do that, even though they are still characters from Japan.)

So it just makes sense as the obvious localisation choice to have Simeon refer to his friend with his given name, rather than his surname.

However! In this particular instance, I firmly 100% believe that this was the wrong decision.

See, Simon calling Knightley by his surname in the fan translation isn’t just an awkward holdover of a somewhat more direct Japanese translation – it actually means something. It’s a subtle hint that Simon doesn’t actually see Knightley as the friend he supposedly is; he’s distancing himself from his friend by talking about him in this more detached way.

This is subtle enough that it isn’t a spoiler, either! On my first playthrough of the fan translation, I never batted an eye at Simon using his friend’s surname. Some people in English-speaking countries do just prefer to go by their surname, even to their friends – particularly when their first name is kind of awkward. It felt perfectly natural that Knightley might prefer to be called just that even by his best friend, instead of “Horace”, which sounds somewhat old-fashioned and dorky.

(And this would go double, surely, for someone whose first name is freaking Bronco of all things. It’d make plenty of sense that he’d rather be called Knight!)

Knightley himself probably didn’t even question it. I imagine Simon would have called him Horace while they were kids at the orphanage, but then when Simon reappeared in his life years later after his disappearance and was calling him Knightley instead, Knightley probably shrugged and figured, yeah, Horace is kind of a dorky name, he’s not a kid any more, “Knightley” is way cooler. (Especially with his obsession with chess, not to mention his whole white-knight complex towards Simon.)

The biggest reason why this means something is that Simon calls him Knightley almost the entire time, with one single exception. In the flashback to their impromptu nighttime meeting in the prison, in which Simon knows he’s about to get his “friend” killed and this is the last time he’ll ever see him, the final thing he says to him is, “Goodbye, Horace.”

He uses Knightley’s first name, for the only time in the game’s present. And so, precisely because he’s used his surname every other time, this simple line becomes an achingly telling sign that Simon still cares about his best friend despite everything, despite the fact that he is literally getting him killed. It’s like he’s remembering the happier times they had being friends at the orphanage before everything turned sour, like a part of him wishes they could still have that, and it breaks my heart.

(This is the same in the Japanese, too – he uses his friend’s given name, which is a sign of extremely close friendship in Japanese and would have even more of an impact to Japanese-speaking players.)

This implication isn’t there in the official localisation, because it can’t be. Not when Simeon calls him Bronco all the time anyway, even when he’s revealed his true colours and is no longer pretending for the sake of Edgeworth and company. Which means that he simply did call him Bronco the whole time, even after they reunited, even while secretly wanting him dead. In that context, using the name Bronco when saying goodbye to him in the prison means nothing in particular. It’s just the name he always uses.

…Okay, granted, it’s not like that flashback scene has no emotional weight in the official version. It still is Simeon coming to talk to his friend one last time when he doesn’t really need to, which still means a lot on its own. But the final line itself isn’t a particularly notable part of it. In the localisation, it’s “Goodbye, Bronco. …And farewell.” The added “farewell” mostly just serves to make it obvious that he knows this is the very last time they’ll meet, but I suppose there is at least something to the fact that you wouldn’t usually say that to someone you didn’t care about. I don’t think it hits nearly as hard as calling him Horace for the first and only time in twelve years, though.

It seems like either the official localisers didn’t notice the significance of the given name in that line there, or they did notice it but they decided that localising Simeon to use his friend’s given name the rest of the time, like localisers normally would, was worth losing the impact of that line. And I firmly disagree that this was worth it. There’s nothing inherently wrong about Knight going by Knight even to his best friend, even if it might feel a little awkward in principle, and the emotional impact of the final thing his best friend says to him would have absolutely made up for that.

[nunalastor]

Radioapple Death Note AU

Alastor had always been bored both in life and in death. The boredom ate him alive in ways not even tragedy or the murders he committed would alleviate. Even the murders became boring at some point, because there was no one to stop him from committing them, no edge to it, even if he was taking out people better off not existing.

Then he found the Death Note. He hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just another tacky piece like all the others in Hell, with some rules inside not unlike the chain-mail he had seen and been bored by. But this one was different, he figured that out early on. 

“The soul whose true name is written in the note shall die. Permanently.” Alastor had figured out the power to permanently kill sinners long ago, but this said he could kill anything so long as they had a soul. That meant he could kill Goetia nobles and theoretically the devil himself if he wanted to, maybe even the genocidal angels in heaven. That intrigued him enough that he spent the next five days reading the rules, when he was approached by the Root of all Evil, or Roo, in his home. Immediately, Alastor’s suspicions were confirmed. This wasn’t a power he was supposed to have. With the notebook, he could commit murders much faster than he had been able to in person, and against those he would never be able to kill on his own. All he needed was their true names, and he could do anything. Curiosity to see what would happen if he did so prompted him to start using it, only once Roo promised using it wasn’t going to cost his soul (but she made no secret that she had some deals for extra power that could cost his soul in the absence of a lifespan). The result was more than he could ask for.

Lucifer Morningstar, the depressed and equally bored King of Hell. Making rubber ducks to pass the time could only do so much to distract from the emptiness inside, and there was nothing to keep his mind sharp. Until the sudden influx of permanent murders that had gotten the attention of not just the pride ring but all of Hell. The Goetia brought it to his attention when multiple of their own suddenly dropped dead, which wasn’t supposed to be possible. And maybe Lucifer was an ass for getting as excited as he was by the new challenge, but in his defense, those Goetia nobles had been very corrupt and he only hadn’t done anything about it because he didn’t want to deal with the complaining. 

But this meant he had to do something. Hell wouldn’t be satisfied until they had someone to make an example of with the exorcist blade, and so Lucifer had to investigate and figure out how this was happening and who was responsible. To do that, he had to disguise himself as a sinner under the alias of L, based on his human disguise of Lucius Magne, then find a way to face this new killer (given the alias of Kira after the deadly sins got drunk at the meeting and started saying “killer” wrong) without losing his own life. He didn’t fear death, but he would be twice-damned if he let anyone best the big boss of hell himself. 

What better way to blend in with sinners than to help his estranged daughter build that redemption hotel she wanted? His explanation for pretending to be a sinner himself could be that he didn’t want to freak anyone out with the devil there. He didn’t believe the hotel would work, not by a long shot, but it would make Charlie happy, he could reconnect with her, and if this killer was partially going after royalty, he would inevitably appear. Sure enough, Alastor was curious about this hotel, and he did offer his services as a manager of the establishment. He also brought along Husk and Niffty.  

There was one problem though, and it was a problem they shared. The moment Alastor and Lucifer encountered one another, they had an instant connection. They would tease each other, leave clues for the other to find, and even when they both knew in their hearts this was the person they were looking for, Lucifer didn’t have the necessary proof and Alastor didn’t have a true name. They were at a stalemate, and despite knowing they would have to see the other dead, neither had any genuine interest in harming the one person who could truly understand them. 

👀

[waffles505]

OMITB S4 Killer Theory

....SPOILERS....

...

Ben GLENroy isn't dead. 

This is my theory for OMITB Season 4. Although I do ultimately think that there are 2 killers/people involved, I believe I have a good part of it solved. Again, just a theory, this could end up being totally wrong...but let me know what YOU think. 

...

In S4E4, our favorite trio (Charles, Mabel & Oliver) go to "Concussions", a bar for stunmen founded in the 70s. We learned that Sazz was there and posted a selfie the day she was murdered. When they start asking questions about Sazz, stuntpeople who were all friends with Sazz, start to get agitated. Especially with Charles (this makes sense as he was Sazz's "face"). As things start to escalate, out of nowhere, a man rolls into the conversation. The trio is shocked to see Ben Glenroy (the victim of S3). Irish Paul Rudd says that he is actually Ben's stunt double...Glen Stubbins. Glen explains how he's mad at the trio for taking "Ben" from him and claims that "15 years he worked for Ben". Throughout this conversation, Glen keeps seeing "rats" everywhere, trying to kill them. No one else sees the rats he's talking about. As the stuntpeople start to get more upset, Glen escorts the trio out of the building. Once they are outside, Glen apologizes for having to play up the "fighting" and wants to talk to Charles. Specifically, he asks Charles if he will be his new "Face". Charles politely declines and Glen begs him for work on a project. Mabel offers Glen a position on the film being made about their podcast and Glen is relieved. He then goes on to show off some "stunts" he can do and the trio is impressed and scared at the same time. When asked about the back room in the bar, Glen tells them about Dr. Maggie who is a chiropractor that helps all the stuntpeople with their pain management. Charles, alarmed, asked if Sazz was in pain. Glen responds "She was in pain, thanks to you". After deciding to take Charles to meet Dr. Maggie, Glen warns Charles to "Mind the rats". Glen stays and listens in on Dr. Maggie's conversation both Charles. We learn that Sazz was in pain and planning to retire to a new career. She was "hurt from a one-sided relationship", Charles believes it's himself that hurt her. We later see Charles return to Concussions, where he decided to "Tap in" for Sazz, so that she could have a proper stuntman's funeral. 

After being hit with a fake bottle, Charles is shocked (rightly so). Glen leans in and tells him, "Lie still, dead man". When it's Glen's turn to say his "goodbyes" to Sazz, he accidently(?) uses a real bottle to hit Charles, knocking him out. 

As chaos ensues and stuntpeople fight one another, Glen says to himself, "this is what Sazz would have wanted."

Soo...what is my theory? 

Ben Glenroy didn't die. His "stuntman" did. Here' what I think happened: 

Ben was the one that temporarily died from the rat poison. In S3, we're led to believe that Ben died from the poison, miraculously survived it, only to be murdered again after being pushed down an elevator shaft. #Rip

Here’s the thing…Ben showed up rather quickly from the hospital to the after-party. With something as serious as ingesting RAT POISON, there’s no way he would be able to walk around and show up, just fine, to the party that occurred so soon after. I believe that while Ben was recovering in the hospital, Ben’s (real) stunt double went in his place (or shall I say, “tapped in”) to the party and unfortunately ended up being killed. Now, whether Ben knew about his stunt double doing this at the time, I don’t know. Recovering from Rat Poison would likely take days, possibly even weeks to recover from (especially considering the amount he was given).  I think the loss of his Stunt Double, especially if they had a relationship similar to what Sazz and Charles had, would hurt him greatly. Ben would probably feel guilt, like we see Charles experiencing in the current time. But if someone wanted Ben dead, hearing the news that he was still alive could put himself in danger. So what does he do? He decides to put on another great performance…that being ”Glen Stubbins”. 

We know that “Glen” is seeing rats everywhere. Ben was poisoned with RAT posion and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to deal with some side effects after such a serious health scare, such as hallucinations. Ben also likely has PTSD and could be seeing these “rats” as a result. 

Also…Ben Glenroy? Glen Stubbins?

They both have the word GLEN in their names. That’s too much of a coincidence. There’s NO WAY that Ben just happened to find a stunt double who looks identical to him with partially the same name as him. We know that Ben isn’t the smartest bulb in the pack, so perhaps he should have picked SOMETHING other than “Glen”. 

Now, why would Ben do all of this? 

MOTIVE: We know that Ben HATED Charles. While Charles was working on Brazzos, a young Ben Glenroy was cast as a series regular. However, after the first table read, Charles told the director that Ben was a phony and had him fired. Ben blames Charles for his failing acting career. Ben could very easily, in some twisted way, ultimately blame Charles for his Stuntman dying. 

This could mean that Ben had the motive to kill Charles AND/OR Sazz. 

*Although I believe Charles was the true intended target, Sazz being the target is still a possibility. 

Let’s say Sazz WAS the target, Ben knows Sazz. How? Ben briefly worked on Brazzos, which Sazz was Charles’s stuntman for. Maybe Ben wanted Charles to understand the pain he’s in? He wants Charles to know what it feels like to lose that special person. 

IF Charles was the intended target, we already have several reasons for why Ben would kill him. Charles “ruined” his life. What makes a better murderer than someone who’s already supposed to be dead? NO ONE would think/suspect Ben Glenroy, a dead man, could have done it…

I don’t think Ben decided to pretend to be his stunt double until he realized that Charles wasn’t the one that died, Sazz did. Ben gets away with murder, it never gets solved, he ruins Charle’s life in the process, and imagine the Hollywood comeback he would have if he revealed that he had actually been alive this whole time.  What a performance!

As for the other murderer/person involved, I don’t know WHO it is yet, but think Ben must be connected to someone in Hollywood. This person would have to distract the gang with a “movie” about the podcast…but I don’t think the movie is even real. I think it’s all a distraction just to lead up to the big reveal...A movie/documentary about the return of Ben Glenroy and how he survived death. Now THAT would be a huge blockbuster hit. 

As for who dies next…I’m worried for Howard, Loretta, and Oliver. 

Let me know what you think! <3

Reddit Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/OnlyMurdersHulu/comments/1foy09g/s4_killer_theory/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button