#I think in his death he realizes the irony of it all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yesimwriting · 1 year ago

Note

Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️

A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited

hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so

---

Of Angels

The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.

Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.

Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.

The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?

He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.

"Are you saying you volunteer?"

You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.

"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."

----

In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.

She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.

The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.

If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.

The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.

A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.

You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.

Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.

Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.

"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."

You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.

Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.

"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"

The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.

"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."

You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.

"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."

He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."

The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"

"I do my best to take care of you."

For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."

You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."

An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."

The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.

You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.

Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.

It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.

----

i think i might make a part 2!!

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #coriolanus x reader

1K notes · View notes

dragonpotter · 10 months ago

Text

i find it funny how allicent says that viserys is "blind" when it comes to rhaenyra's sons and rhaenyra in general. of course he is not blind, he knows very well how his daughter is, he knows her son's aren't laenor's, he just doesn't want to punish her. does alicent really think that viserys would exile her, kill her for having bastard sons? what kind of father would do that? not one who loves his daughter like viserys does. and alicent doesn't understand being loved unconditionally, she doesn't understand how someone can just be loved for who they are, their flaws and mistakes combined. all her life, she did everything by the book, everything just right and that still didn't make anyone love her. and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault, because she is loved, even though she broke several of those "rules". and alicent, instead of realizing that maybe those rules are kind of stupid actually, just blames rhaenyra instead of admitting to herself that she is jealous. she envies rhaenyra for being free, and being loved even though she doesn't follow the stupid rules that alicent does.

alicent says that viserys is blind about rhaenyra but i actually think he is way more blind about her. she has been plotting treason (telling his children that aegon will be the king), spreading rumours about rhaenyra's sons, threatening rhaenyra and her sons with a knife???? and viserys never did anything substantial to make her stop.

the most ironic part of them all is that she complains about viserys being "blind" to criston cole of all people, who i have NO IDEA why was never punished. he KILLED a man in the royal wedding and nothing happened to him. and when harwin strong beat criston up, he was removed from his post as commander of the city watch, but criston beats a man to death in a royal wedding and nothing happens?? let's not forget that when the king explicitly forbade that luke's eyes be taken out after, criston still tried to do it, he only didn't do it because daemon stopped him.

viserys wasn't blind about rhaenyra. he just loved her the way that she was and wasn't going to do anything stupid to harm her. like a father who loves her daughter unconditionally would, but alicent wouldn't know anything about that, would she? and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault that she is loved unconditionally, not otto's fault for being a shitty father.

the irony is that i believe viserys was in fact blind about alicent. about her ambition for her sons and bitternes towards rhaenyra. he was also blind about criston cole, who murdered a man in her daughter's wedding and wanted to take his grandson's eye out, but didn't get punished for any of it.

#team black #house of the dragon #anti team green #anti alicent hightower #anti criston cole #house of the dragon meta

599 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 2 months ago

Text

⭒°𖦹ᯓlacerationsᯓ𖦹°⭒

Author's note: I have made a wondrous discovery. It's called waking up before 10 am. You get the beautiful solitude of staying up past midnight but with an extra bout of energy. And a little extra time to waste on useless things!

WARNINGS: dead dove, Dead Dove, DEAD DOVE, gore, blood, yandere behavior, multifandom (sorta, there weren't many on either side so I just lumped them together) seriously DEAD DOVE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦

Harvey Dent - Two Face | هاروی دنت - دو چهره

You can feel the keratin sinking through skin, tearing the layer of flesh covering your back. Harvey pulls down the incision, well Harv does technically. Letting it marr his fingertips as his tongue nicks itself along your teeth. His other hand, the human side you think bitterly, Harvey, traces constellations across your thighs, nails ever only grazing skin to connect rogue stars. You suck in a sharp breath when his lips abandon yours, feel the longing of his blue eyes sinking into you.

"Don't think" he rasps, voice smooth as silk so soft it makes you maon. "Let the coin choose," he demands voice so gruff you practically feel the sandpaper skating across your skin. The coin dances across the air like loose flower petals to the wind. Only to land scarred side up. You feel the burning ache again, his nails digging into your chest, leaving jagged trails in their wake. Harvey kisses you again, pushing his pain past your teeth and down your gasping throat.

Jason Todd - Red Hood | جیسون تاد - نقاب قرمز

You wonder if he thinks no one would realize if he died. No one would care. That's the problem with dead things walking, it's hard to weep for something twice gone.

Jason's lips are cold, they're always cold, he's never quite as warm as he should be, then again what dead thing is? You can taste the blood and lukewarm Coca-Cola as he forces his tongue past your sealed lips. Sweet iron flooding your mouth, probably from a gash inside his mouth. Your nails dig into the clean-cut scar engraved across his chest. It's instinctual trying to ward off the dead. His hands lay heavy atop your hips memento mori seeping into the bones. Your palms brace his shoulders but there's no defying death.

Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow | جاناتان کرین - مترسک

It makes sense, he thinks as your little fingers thread the needle through his skin and pull trying to seal the bleeding. Scarecrow, scarecrow, a patchwork of old fabrics to brittle for clothes. What's the difference when it comes to him? He's no less patchwork no less a menace than the straw-stuffed mascots he claims to be. But, and although he knows this isn't perfectly logical, Jonathan can't help but wonder if any scarecrow has ever wished for their seamstress to trail languid kisses across the scars, across the patchwork. To brush their ethereal lips along each stitch. To make the pain worth it.

He loves the way you cry and squirm. Withering in pain the needles pierce through flesh, lacing thread and skin. His tongue laps at the blood still spilling from the half-open wound. Relishing in the shaky breath you take and the delicate hiss of pain. The needles sink in again, threading faster. There's some mirthful irony stored somewhere in all of this. He just can't tell what it fully is.

Roman Sionis - Black Mask | رومن سیونیس - ماسک سیاه

You listen to his music, to the thundering 80's metal reverberating across the room as if trying to break the bars of some invisible cage as if trying to seep through dimensions. Roman lets out a lazy breath of smoke, you let the scent burn your nostrils and sink into your flesh. MINE it screams just like everything else he does. You take your own intake, harboring the smoke between your cheeks letting the poison trickle down your lungs until you can't breathe. Then out into the air chasing pathetically after Roman's smoke. Cause isn't that what life is? An endless chase? Trailing after the thing that broke you, that scarred you beyond repair. What happens when you catch it? Do you kill it or kiss it? Will it let you do either?

Roman props himself up on his elbow, black eyes roaming over your scarcely dressed form. "Cute" he mutters, the timber of his voice always echos. You blame the mask, the ebony ivory. Roman brings the cigarette down, the molten heat penetrating the fat of your thigh. You moan or scream, as the sizzling of your skin rings within your ears. The burnt flesh reeks. You wither beneath the pain letting it engulf you and sink inside till your bones cry. Roman twists the cigarette making sure the ashes tumble down your leg little embers leaving dead stars across your flesh. When he finally lifts the dreaded thing you can't help but trace your fingers over the burnt bound. But he swats your fingers away instead, inserting his own, digging his nails into the raw patch until you cry out again.

Anakin Skywalker - Darth Vader | آناکین اسکای واکر - دارت ویدر

The smile he offers is too genuine, too golden. It stings more than the phantom pain scratching at your wrist. Ani's fingers trace the wires of your exposed hand with all the gentleness you'd expect from someone so holy. Twirling wire ends together before binding them with the silver alloy.

He breaks, lifting his head to leave shallow kisses across the valley of your hand where flesh meets metal. Laughing so sweetly when you wince that it makes your stomach churn. Sometimes he lets the iron slip, letting it tickle your arm and imprint it's fine tip across your glowing skin as if it's all a joke, some inside quip between two friends. But you take it sharply cursing at the galaxy beneath your breath for all its cruel cruel mockery.

Darth Maul | دارت مول

Maybe it's the hunger, that makes everything worse. The desperate need for his attention, molten gold gaze bearing into your soul. Taking apart the broken thing and chipping off more pieces than you care to count. Slowly you pace forward, surprised when he lets you lay your hand atop his. Lets you draw closer to his saber.

You feel the burning light kissing your lips, daring you to open your mouth. Your tongue slowly lulls out empaling itself on the red light. Maul laughs at the burning scent that wafts through the starship. Inhales it desperately, engraving it across his mind. Why does this hurt less than his kisses? Why does being burnt by laser light feel so must sweeter than the touches your lover weaves across your fractured body? Lightsaber burns on your tongue, burnt sugar wafting through the air it's all better than the all-consuming darkness that Maul pushes between your bones each night.

181 notes · View notes

nickeverdeen · 1 year ago

Note

hello! I really enjoy reading ur work, so I’m wondering if I could request a TUA (the umbrella academy) preference where the reader confesses their feelings during an argument (they aren’t dating yet) no pressure ofc <3 thank u sm for being a good writer!!

Thanks for requesting!!! And thanks for those words, I might be slower at writing considering I have school tests everyday, well I mean I’m in law school so what was I expecting-

Anyway, thanks a lot for everything 🫶

————————————————————

Confessing your feelings to Umbrella Academy members during an argument

————————————————————

TW: Cussing, mention of injury, drugs, sometimes cliché

————————————————————

You = white text

Luther = blue text

Diego = red text

Allison = pink text

Klaus = orange text

Five = green text

Ben = also green text, but cursive (‘cause I’m running out of colors)

Viktor = purple text

————————————————————

Luther Hargreeves

This takes place in season 1

The argument was pretty simple

You just wanted him to shut up for like 5 seconds about the moon and stop defending Reginald and digging into his death

You two were currently standing in the “meeting room” in the Umbrella Academy along with others discussing how Reginald died. Sure you weren’t part of this family, but you were invited anyway. Why you had no idea, maybe ‘cause you were a family friend?

“Jesus Christ Luther, stop digging into it so much. It was a heartattack, calm down” you rolled your eyes sighing as you agreed along with others that Reginald died of a heart attack.

“Oh so you’re on their side now? Even my best friend, great” he chuckled at the irony rolling his eyes. “Well I wonder why” Diego sneered. Soon the whole room started arguing about it, you’ve had enough of this. They were adults so they should act like it

Standing up from your seat you shook your head whistling which only caught Viktor’s and Allison’s attention… not what you wanted.

“Shut the fuck up!” You finally yelled and they all grew silent except for Diego who insulted his brother and you before storming off. “We’re all adults yet you all act like kids. Get your shit together” you sighed frustrated.

With that Luther got up and took few steps towards you “You don’t have a say in this. Dad was murdured, and last time I checked I was on the Moon to-“ Luther started but got cut off by you

“Luther, for the love of god, as much as I love you, shut up about the Moon and stop defending him” You rolled your eyes making Viktor raise his eyebrows suprised

Luther stood there kidna offended at first before realizing what you said “Wait what?” You just cussed under your breath. This is gonna be a long day.

At first Allison was kidna jealous for sure, but slowly joined Klaus with sometimes teasing you. You had a lot of explaining to do.

Diego Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

Along woth others you had enough of Diego thinking about J. F. Keneddy 24/7

It was another night at Elliot’s and here you were, sitting in a corner across the room from Diego with Five between the two of you. You all were watching a tape Hazel gave Five before dying, a man on a grassfield was standing there when the president is getting shot.

To be honest you rightfully along with Lila who was sitting near you had no idea who this is unlike the two boys who seemed shocked at it

“Uh guys? Wanna also tell us who that is?” You asked awkwardly with Lila nodding slightly only to hear a whisper “dad” escape their mouths at the same time.

“Do you see this? That’s dad and he is the one who killed the president” Diego turned to you with a serious expression “Oh here we go” You rolled your eyes crossing your arms. “How can you know for sure that it was him? It doesn’t look like he’s holding a gun” you just shrugged leaving Diego frowning

“Do you even listen to me? That’s a proof that he is the killer!” Diego stood up pacing around the room

“And you know that how? He-“ you get cut off as he looks at you sharply, if you didn’t know him you’d think he’s crazy

“Take it easy, Diego” Five said calmly trying to ease the situation, but of course it didn’t help. “He is the killer! Don’t you hear me?! The evidence is right here!” Diego yells at you pointing at the tape

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you don’t wanna tell me that I fell for a madman” You scoffed crossing your arms taking a step towards him and he took a small step back as he processed what you said

“Well that’s an awkward silence” Lila said chuckling slightly, but none of you spoke until Five told you both that there’s no time for these things right now and you both followed him out to wherever you guys are going

“We’re not done with this conversation” Diego said, but not so agressively, more calmly yet of course not softly as it ain’t in his nature.

Allison Hargreeves

This takes place in season 3

You were starting to get really annoyed with her, but when you caught her trying to rumor herself in the mirror to be happy you couldn’t be angry or upset with her at that moment

You and other Hargreeves siblings were just miding your own businesses, but you did notice that Allison was missing. At first you didn’t make a big deal out of it, she was being really annoying, but still that didn’t mean that you didn’t care about her. You were on this crazy Hargreeves rollecoster since the very beggining and they were all very dear to you.

So here you were looking through the whole hotel for her, you were starting to give up before you heard a glass break in the bathroom.

Slowly you stepped in and that’s when you witnessed it. “I heard a rumor that you were happy” Allison said trying to rumor herself through the mirror you weren’t sure if it’d work, but you sure as hell were concerned by now, you were aware that she had a hard time, but this was really bad.

“Allison?” You stepped in properly after seeing that it doesn’t work

Allison slightly jumped at the sudden voice, she didn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you “What do you want?”

Her words were sharp, but you tried to ignore the feeling and took few steps closer, your eyes inspecting her bloody hand from the distance. “Are you okay…?” You asked slowly unsure if she wants to open up

She just scoffed rolling her eyes as she faced you “Since when do you care?” You didn’t like this defensive side of her, but you knew that loving her means loving her even at her worst

“I always cared, Al-“ getting cut off Allison stood up properly frowning “No you didn’t. You don’t care that Claire’s dead, you don’t care that both my husbands are dead! You don’t care at all!”

She shouted obviously getting irritated by your words even though they were honest. “Allison that’s not true!” You tried to argue back “I care about you and mainly your wellbeing! You need help-“ “I don’t need help! Now get out!” She cut you off once again taking few steps towards you, but you didn’t really take any steps back and stood your ground

“Yes you do! You’re even rumoring yourself to be happy! You’re not alright at all!” You took a deep breath taking few steps towards her as well “Just let me help you!” You looked up at her, but she wasn’t calming down any time soon and you knew that. “And why would you want that?! To impress others with your comforting skills?! Make me feel even worse?!”

She shouted, she knew damn well that she doesn’t mean it and knew that she’s being a bitch right now, but she couldn’t stop. She was hiding her pain and anger deep down inside of her for too long and even though she didn’t want to, she just had to let it out on you. Not ‘cause she wanted to, but ‘cause you were closest and she knew you’d forgive her overtime, plus you understood her and she just had to let everything out despite knowing it’s not heathly for neither of you.

“No! Of course not! Allison I love you and don’t want you to suffer! Please…”

You were more calm at the end, but got confused when she shut up and just stared at you in shock before it hit you that you just confessed

“What?” She asked blinking in confusion, but also a neutral voice “Allison… I love you” you repeated making sure she knows you don’t mean just as friends

“Please don’t… I’ll just lose you too. Stop” she mumbled shaking her head, she couldn’t take another loss

“You won’t lose me” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed her just shortly and slightly of course, you didn’t wanna scare her. “Now let me help you with your hand” you took her bloody hand and started tending it knowing that Allison isn’t ready for a relationship just yet so you didn’t expect her to say it back right now, but you knew that she did love you.

Klaus Hargreeves

This takes place in season 1

You catch Klaus stealing in the Academy from his father on the funeral day

“Klaus? Wha- what are you doing?” You laughed seeing him under his father’s table where Reginald kept all his work

“Oh Y/N! How nice it is to see youuuuu” He sounded high and he probably was, but then again he had every reason to get high, but that doesn’t mean you approved of it

Klaus quickly reached for a hug which you with a sigh accepted “Klaus you’re high again” you crossed your arms rolling your eyes. “We talked about this”

“But those bitches are everywhere and it’s just so much better” he smiled amd you had to chuckle at his silliness “Give me the drugs” you held out your hand raising eyebrows “Oh you want it too????”

He asked and gave it to you and you just threw it out of the window “What’re you doing?!” He exclaimed with wide eyes “Helping you. Now go wash your face.”

You said clearly pissed off by his behaivor “Y/n! I need those!!!” He whined making you roll your eyes “No, you don’t. You need therapy, along with this whole family of yours” you stated clearly

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” He whined “You don’t understand what I’m going through when I’m clean!” He suddenly yelled at you making you raise your eyebrows

“No Klaus, you don’t understand what I’m going through when I see the man I love somewhere begging for drugs instead of trying to get a real help!”

You argued back, but he stopped “What?”

Five Hargreeves

This takes place in season 3

You both didn’t pick the same side when Reginald asked you all who’s for saving the world and who’s against it - you voted for saving the world while he didn’t

“Are you serious?” You looked at Five frowning confused as he stood on the other side. “Five, after all this time of trying to save the world you’re just gonna give up on the only chance we have ‘cause your older you told you so?”

You scoffed shaking your head and he frowned stepping closer to you “Y/N I am doing the right thing. Right, we’ve been trying to save the world this whole time and did we manage to change something? Nein! It’s over and over the same” Five frowned stepping closer to you

Unaware of the small distance between you two you stepped closer too and looked down at him “I’m not just gonna sit here and wait for the world to end with a boy I fell for and see him die. Five just come on and try this! One more time”

You sighed and tried to plea him, but to no vail as he didn’t budge “”Boy I love”? Please don’t bring that cocky shit-” “Maybe we should all calm down, alright?” Viktor tried to diescelate the situation, but failed as you and Five ignored him and kept arguing.

“You think you’re always right, hm? You are a child, you-” However you cut him off with a sneer “A child? That’s rich coming from you” Five took a deep breath and looked up at you his height making it impossible for him to look you straight in the eyes without looking up. “Y/N I love you, but you’re starting to seriously piss me off-“ He shut up as you all realized that another wave of Kugablitz is coming and had to run. Sure you two were gonna have to sort things out

Ben Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

He got angry ‘cause you keep diapproving of him possesing Klaus’ body

(Btw Y/N can see Ben here)

“Am I talking to Ben or Klaus?” You asked annoyed not seeing Ben anywhere so you just assumed that he posessed Klaus’ body which was sitting on the floor

“Hey Y/N! It’s Ben! God I’m so glad you came I couldn’t find you at the courtyard” he got up and hugged you tightly, but you could still feel that it’s Klaus’ body which wasn’t ideal at all. You didn’t like it and you were over this conversation many times

“Ben… you do realize that I can see you just like Klaus can, right?” You sighed shaking your head in disapproval “But it’s not the same! In a body-“ he starts but you just cut him off

“In any body I can’t see you, but the person whose body it is, Ben” you sighed shaking your head “But Y/N, you don’t understand… being ghost.. it’s as if I’m nothing” He took few steps closer to you, but you just backed up

“Y/N, please just listen… you don’t know what it’s like!” Suddenly he snaps. That’s very out of character of him. “God, Ben. You don’t get it do you?! I don’t love the body you are in, I love you when you’re yourself, Ben!”

You shook your head frowning and andead silence falls in the room and you soon hear him parting from Klaus’ body

“Aw man, I feel like I’ll throw up” Klaus moans and backs up. You ignore him whimpering and just focus on Ben who’s too stunned to speak.

It’s gonna be a long day…

Viktor Hargreeves

This takes place in season 2

Y/N is helping Five look for others so they’d get them all to the suitcase in time, but Viktor insists to go back for Sissy and Harlan

You kept driving around couple of blocks looking for your best friend - Viktor - literally everywhere

Driving on a road leading away from Sissy’s farm you were slowly losing all hope, but for Viktor’s sake and your mental stability’s sake you kept going, you had to find him.

Driving away you saw another car passing by you and Viktor in it. Immediately you stopped in a way that your car - well a stolen car that you claim to be yours - died. Viktor on the other hand stopped slowly

“Viktor? Thank God, where were you?!” You were quick to hug him before he even had a chance to get out of the car properly

“Jesus! Y/N what are you doing here?” Obviously strandled a bit Viktor pulled away and rubbed your shoulder a bit “What’s going on?”

“Five found a way to get back home! No apocalypse or anything like that, we can go back!” You quickly explained and started walking towards your car, but stopped when you realized he wasn’t following “Viktor?” He shifted in his place thinking “I hate to tell you this, but we only have fifteen minutes-“ you started, but he cut you off

“I’m taking Sissy and Harlan” Viktor practically stated “What? Viktor you can’t do that, their disappearance could have major concequences” you shook your head looking back at your watch. 13 minutes.

“What consequences would it create if we’d just take a farm boy and woman with us?” Viktor obviously had enough and he headed back to his car “We don’t have time for that Viktor!” You pulled him by his arm back and he only snatched it away “Viktor don’t” you warned him shaking your head, true you don’t have powers, but he doesn’t have to know that

“What’s so wrong about this? I love Sissy and am not leaving her!” You knew he did. He loves Sissy, but you kidna were in denial. “What?” He looked at you still angry, but more confused now that you’re silent. 2 minutes.

“Sissy isn’t the only one who loves you, you idiot” you said and got into your car, but Viktor stopped you by your hand

“What?”

#request #preferences #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreaves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves

890 notes · View notes

blackenedsnow · 3 months ago

Text

thin as air

WARNING: Mentions of anorexia and body dysmorphia, violence, injury, unhealthy relationships, dark themes, rough handling, unhealthy attachment.

PAIRING: Art the Clown x Anorexic! Reader

NOTE: Hey, just sharing this because i know a lot of us are going through it too. It’s very scary. I’m in a rough spot myself so i wanted to write something that might feel like a weird kind of comfort, even if it’s dark and messy. Remember, it’s fiction; take care of yourself. Love you all, take what you need <3 (Also this is in first person.)

SUMMARY: Art’s affection is all-consuming, and you don’t quite understand why you’re the object of his twisted love. There is NOTHING sexual even if it may sound like it!!

Sometimes, I wonder if Art even knows what I am – this mess of bones, thin skin, hollow eyes. I see the way he looks at me, with that dead, unwavering gaze of his. The way his black-rimmed eyes flicker over my body, taking in every protruding rib, every visible vein. It’s like he’s fascinated by me, by this shell of a person I’ve become.

And honestly? I’m just as fascinated by him.

I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why it happened. I don’t even know if Art knows why he’s here with me, this painted monster, this creature who has taken me as his own. He’s rough, always has been – he’s broken one of my bones before. My wrist, I think it was, his grip too tight in one of his fits of… whatever it is he feels. Love, rage, lust? I don’t know. I don’t think Art knows either. But he’s always there, his hands wandering over me like he can’t get enough, even as he’s hurting me.

It’s like he’s drawn to my fragility.

I guess that’s the irony. I’m so close to death already, bones so thin you could snap them with a careless touch, a body starved down to the barest scraps. Sometimes I think that’s what he’s here for – to watch me die slowly, to revel in the sight of me wasting away. I wonder if that’s the appeal, the reason he never leaves.

But then he’ll reach out, his hand cupping my cheek with a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of. And I realize – no. That’s not it at all. He’s here because he loves me. Art loves me.

It doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t have to. Not to him, not to me.

I think he likes the sharp edges of my bones, the way my body feels fragile beneath his hands. There’s something about the way he touches me, careful sometimes, rough others, like he’s afraid I’ll break if he’s not careful – but sometimes he forgets. Sometimes he’ll grip me too tight, his fingers pressing into my skin with enough force to leave bruises, marks that will linger for days.

Once, when he’d been particularly careless, I felt something crack beneath his fingers. The pain had been sharp, sudden, and I’d cried out, my voice weak, but he’d just stared, his head tilting to the side as if he were studying a work of art. And maybe, to him, I am. A fragile, breakable thing, something he can hold in his hands and twist, bend to his will.

But he’d stopped then, his hands falling away, his eyes wide with something like surprise. He hadn’t meant to hurt me.

The thing is, I love him too. Maybe that’s the sickest part of it all, the fact that I look at him, at this monster who kills without remorse, who breaks me without meaning to, and I feel something like warmth in my chest. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel this way, why I keep letting him touch me, hold me, break me.

Maybe it’s because he sees me. In his own strange way, Art sees me. He sees the parts of me that I try to hide, the emptiness that gnaws at me from the inside, the hunger that never seems to go away. He sees the hollowness in my eyes, the way I wither away piece by piece, and he doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t tell me to stop, doesn’t tell me I need to eat, to get better.

He just… stays.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand it. But in a way, it’s comforting. Because in his silence, in his wordless presence, I find a strange sense of belonging. I find a twisted kind of love, the kind that doesn’t judge, that doesn’t demand anything of me except to exist. To be here, with him, in whatever form I am.

And maybe that’s enough.

Sometimes, when he’s lying beside me, his hand resting on my hip, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid to press down too hard, I’ll close my eyes and pretend that he’s human. That he’s just a man, lying beside me, his warmth seeping into my skin. But then I’ll feel his fingers tighten, his grip growing possessive, and I’m reminded of what he is – a killer, a creature who takes lives without a second thought.

But he doesn’t take mine.

No matter how close I get, no matter how many times I think this is it, that I’ll finally slip away, he’s always there. Sometimes I wonder if he’d let me die if I truly wanted to, if he’d just sit back and watch as I faded into nothing. But I think he’d fight for me. I think he’d drag me back, kicking and screaming, because he loves me.

I feel his hands on me again, his touch rough and insistent, and I can feel the bruises blooming beneath his fingers, but I don’t mind. I welcome the pain, the reminder that I’m still here, still alive. And in that moment, with his body pressed against mine, I don’t feel empty. I feel full, filled with something dark and consuming, something that threatens to swallow me whole.

And maybe that’s the real reason he’s here – not to watch me die, but to keep me alive.

The days blend together when he’s gone. Time’s got this funny way of stretching and folding over on itself in his absence, like the hours are conspiring to keep me waiting. I lose track of them – they bleed together in a mess of dark corners and quiet. Every so often, I glance over at the door, waiting for him to appear in that grimy frame, caked in blood and staring with that quiet, maddening intensity. But every time, there’s just silence. And the longer he’s gone, the more I start to wonder if maybe this is it.

If maybe, he’s not coming back.

I tell myself that’s probably a good thing. That maybe he’s off killing for good this time, slipping into someone else’s nightmare. And yet, there’s this ache that gnaws at me, dull and hollow, a feeling like missing something I never thought I’d have. Because even as he breaks me, even as he holds me with a grip that threatens to splinter bone, Art feels like the only real thing in my life. The only solid, terrifying constant.

So when the door finally creaks open, it feels like time itself stops – or maybe, like it finally begins to move again.

He steps inside, dragging a heavy, metallic scent of blood with him, his face painted in his usual grin but with something else lurking beneath. Something dark, simmering – anger. But it’s not at me; I know that look. And on his head, absurdly, he’s wearing a Santa hat, the red fluff soaked a deep maroon where it caught a spatter of blood.

I almost laugh. He looks unhinged and festive all at once, as if he’s ripped the hat off some poor soul in the middle of one of his routines. Art stands there, his eyes narrowing as they settle on me, like he’s deciding something. But even angry, even with whatever it is simmering beneath the surface, I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose.

He prowls toward me, closing the distance in a way that has my heart stumbling over itself, and I’m caught between fear and comfort. I sit up, my mouth dry as I watch him approach, swallowing hard against the question that’s been burning in me since he left.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come back.” My voice cracks, barely more than a whisper.

He stops, staring down at me, his mouth stretching wider into that unsettling smile. Art doesn’t talk, but his eyes – there’s something fierce and sharp in them, a promise I can feel. He tilts his head, raising one finger, wagging it back and forth like he’s scolding me for even thinking it. Like the very idea of him leaving for good is ridiculous.

And maybe it is. Maybe Art’s always going to come back, no matter how many people he kills or how far he roams.

I’m still staring at that absurd hat, unable to help myself. “…Did you kill Santa?”

He gives a low, soundless laugh, his shoulders shaking as he reaches up and tips the hat toward me, his face stretching wider in a mockery of something playful. It’s disturbing and almost sweet all at once, like a monster trying to be human. He’s close now, and I can feel the roughness of his gloved hand as he brushes it over my cheek, trailing down to the sharp line of my jaw. His touch is careful, just enough pressure to remind me he’s here – and that I’m his.

“What?” I say, my voice shaky but edged with a faint smile. “You bring me a Christmas hat instead of a present?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he lifts his hand, holding it up as if to say ‘wait.’ Then he reaches behind him, pulling something from the garbage bag he always carries around. It’s a small, battered box, dented and stained but unmistakably a gift.

I look at him, surprised, and he just grins wider, holding it out. My hands shake as I take it, heart pounding as I pry the lid open. Inside is… a ring. Old and tarnished, probably pried off a victim. But it’s beautiful.

He watches as I slide it on, something warm flickering in his eyes – if anything warm could ever live in those black pits. There’s no need for words. His gaze says it all, a silent declaration that I’m his and he’s mine, even if it makes no sense, even if it’s a nightmare stitched together by blood and broken bones.

The absurdity of it hits me, and I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in ages. “Guess this makes it official, huh?”

Art raises one hand in a mock toast, his grin impossibly wide, and for a second, the air between us feels almost… normal. Like we’re two people who understand each other in a way no one else could.

#art the clown #art the clown x reader #terrifier #terrifier x reader #terrifier 2 #terrifer 3 #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #x reader #fanfic #oneshot

151 notes · View notes

quixoticanarchy · 5 months ago

Text

Just realizing it’s kind of strange how the published Silmarillion leaves out Sauron actually finding out Beren and Finrod’s names. Like I’ve seen posts wondering when Sauron might find out and what if it’s not til the Third Age, but in the poetic Lay of Leithian he finds out in Tol-in-Gaurhoth because Finrod and Beren use each other’s real names and he overhears them. It’s already funny that the Nereb-and-Dungalef tactic works on Sauron but even funnier that it finally fails not because Sauron figures it out but because they give themselves away

And moreover, Sauron knowing Finrod’s identity is key to Finrod’s whole death: Sauron’s reaction to learning their names is to say the outlaw mortal’s life is worthless and he can die now, but Finrod will be kept and tortured long beyond what a Man could endure, until Sauron learns the secret of their errand. He also threatens to ransom Finrod back to Nargothrond if his people care enough about him – or suggests perhaps Celegorm will just keep the treasure and not bother. The published Silmarillion just says “…Sauron purposed to keep Felagund to the last, for he perceived that he was a Noldo of great might and wisdom, and he deemed that in him lay the secret of their errand.”

Whereas the poetic Lay has:

“’’Twere little loss if he were dead, the outlaw mortal. But the king, the Elf undying, many a thing no man could suffer may endure. Perchance, when what these walls immure of dreadful anguish thy folk learn, their king to ransom they will yearn with gold and gem and high hearts cowed; or maybe Celegorm the proud will deem a rival’s prison cheap, and crown and gold himself will keep. Perchance, the errand I shall know, ere all is done, that ye did go.’”

And it’s right after this that he sends the wolf to kill Beren. So Finrod essentially is not just keeping his oath to protect Beren but also responding to this threat he’s just received that Beren will be killed and he himself will be tortured to death afterwards. And the irony of course is Sauron could get the secret of their mission from either Finrod or Beren, and it’s Beren, who he wants to kill immediately (and who in the poetic version even says at one point that he’s willing to confess everything to try to trade for Finrod’s life), that the secret actually most matters to. But Sauron immediately discounts the mortal in favor of torturing the elf. Finrod has no stake in completing the Silmaril quest once Beren is dead so it’s a moot point by the time Sauron would discover it. But in dying, he denies Sauron the satisfaction of torturing him and the indignity of ransoming/failing to ransom him. And Beren, whose errand it is, stays alive a little longer. Finrod’s death protects Beren but critically it also denies Sauron what he wants - especially if he thinks only Finrod knew the secret he wants - and avoids a Maedhros-esque fate for himself.

#i just reread the silm and straight up did not realize this detail is left out and then i checked the Lay for something and was like... wow #the rock operas also don't have sauron realize exactly who finrod is although he does treat him as if he knows he's a noldo #which is silm compatible but i do think this version adds something to explaining why finrod dies the way he does #silmarillion #finrod #sauron #beren #skravler #lay of leithian

154 notes · View notes

yeahihyperfixtate · 5 months ago

Text

♡ — luke and kieran x assassin!reader

content : fluff, suggestive (like you have to squint), nonmc!reader, reader contexted to have killed ppl, idk luke and kieran being adorable, more or less the twins x reader

authors note : i havent written stuff in a year hope we're somewhat back in the game. idk I love luke and kieran and this idea has been buzzing about since I met them in game, and ik it says assassin but assistant felt too icky to call reader so yeah, enjoy pls <3

♡ — assassin!reader who, in her vulnerable youth, was taken under the wing of onychinus's mysterious leader, revealing a hidden purpose and destiny within her.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly fell in line when an opportunity arose, casting aside her former recklessness as a besieged street rat, employing such developed cunning senses to eliminate anyone who dared interfere with the hailed leader of onychinus.

♡ — assassin!reader who was treated no differently than the others, used as a strategic asset in those dull meetings the sylus ordered her to attend, some remarking on the irony that no one in that overly cologned room took a woman seriously, even if she stood beside onychinus's revered leader.

♡ — assassin!readerwho only sighed at the memory of the last meeting as her boss spoke humorously. those who dared to push their limits with him, feeling a boost of superiority against one man in his lonesome and some unseen woman, lay with their throats slit as she returned to stand beside her seated superior, her actions displayed as a brief warning to those who tried to think the same.

♡ — assassin!reader who had to refrain her walls of stoicism from falling when she was handed her very own crow mask, briefed that she would be under his direct commands, no other.

♡ — assassin!reader who after a few months of securing a spot directly under sylus’s hand, was introduced to her previously unknown, equally skilled comrades, luke and kieran—the infamous twins of onychinus—immediately affirming such with her new uniform, smaller but just as tactile copy of theirs.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly learned the personalities she was forced to interact and work with daily, distinguishing between the vigorous, unpredictable nature of the older brother, Luke, and the calmer, more soothing demeanour of Kieran.

♡ — assassin!reader who while navigating these complex dynamics, found herself constantly adjusting herself, carefully tailoring her walls to stay upright as she interacted with the pair careful to not stitch herself into their lives, wanting no more than to rely only on herself, all while maintaining her unwavering loyalty to sylus.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds it increasingly hard to hold up these walls as she works with the pair, finding herself alongside the two during their free time, relaxing in one of sylus’s penthouses, awaiting his next command to fill the boredom that overshadows the three.

♡ — assassin!reader who isn’t respected by a selection of lower-ranked members due to her status of being a highly-ranked woman in onychinus, her name slandered continuously among the workplace.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself watching the twins with a mix of admiration and surprise as the two yank a man out of his chair, their aura cold and menacing. their victim, refusing to acknowledge her high rank, accompanied by a moment of foolishness calling her a bitch during a meeting the three were conducting. all triggered by her blunt criticism of his team’s failure to deliver the required number of protocores on time, fuelling the brothers' anger, actively threatening his life with a gun to his head unless he supplied an apology on his knees within the next five seconds.

♡ — assassin!reader who gradually comes to the profound realization of the deep significance the twins hold in her life, a startling epiphany triggered by a harrowing near-death experience on what should have been an ordinary mission gone south.

♡ — assassin!reader who often perches on a high-rise rooftop after successful missions, gazing over the mist-shrouded N109 zone. only recently finding herself joined by the twins, a result of their collaboration over the past few weeks.

♡ — assassin!reader who suddenly finds herself looking for the pair during her scarce free time, looking for the mix of comforting personalities to fill her boredom.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself swept up in their mischievous antics, reluctantly pressed against a wall corner alongside them, watching as an unsuspecting newcomer to onychinus gets a face full of pie upon opening the shared base fridge.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds her cheeks reddening as her two companions casually speculate about her appearance, pulling guesses on the colour and texture of her hair, her supposed eye colour and its shape, all while she attempts to avoid their curious eyes on her.

♡ — assassin!reader who silently prayed to whatever deity was watching, begging for an open grave to swallow her whole as luke reached out to hold her, thankfully, masked face, forcing it still in an attempt to peer past the red slits that lay over her eyes.

♡ — assassin!reader horrifyingly wishes she could jump off this very rooftop they resided on as kirean casually chimes into the conversation some more, audibly wondering about her form in outfits that weren't the current uniforms displayed. he shrugs it off, only adding fuel to the fire as he stretches on how he knows that 'you’re a beauty either way behind that mask', luke places the foreseen cherry on top as he agrees with his younger brother so casually, finally letting go of her burning face.

♡ — assassin!reader can only stare at the back of their heads as they both turn away from her, looking down at the streets below as if this was the most normal thing in the world

#lads x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace luke #love and deepspace luke x reader #love and deepspace kirean #love and deepspace kirean x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff

145 notes · View notes

mysticalblue09 · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine for a sec with me. One day, Annabeth dies while defending a bunch of mortal children from a monster and, for the sake of this what if story, Percy doesn’t lose his shit and attacks the gods. He realizes he’s gonna see her again one day so he continues on living. Fast forward about 5 years and Percy dies in a drunk car accident (I can see the irony) and he ends up in hades. He goes through judgment and gets sent to Elysium. He gets there and immediately starts to look for Annabeth. He sees all these familiar faces. Jason, Beckondorf, Silena, Zoe, Bianca, and so on but he doesn’t see his wise girl. He figures she must be in the Isle of the Bliss because of course Annabeth is and he walks over to Bianca to ask her if he can talk to her dad about just visiting the Isle to see Annabeth. Bianca looks him in the eyes and says she’s not here. Percy is like ya I know she’s not here that’s why I want to go and see if she’s on the Isle. Bianca shakes her head and says Percy, she’s not there either, she’s not here in the underworld. Percy just stares at her, confused and asks if there was a mix up and she’s actually in the fields of asphodel. Bianca starts to tear up as his friend starts to form a circle around him and says, I don’t know how, but Annabeth Chase’s soul never made it down here into the underworld. And that’s when it hits him, Annabeth died with her knife in her hands. He remembers Magnus telling him how people ended up in Valhalla. Percy falls to his knees and starts to wail uncontrollably as he realizes that he’ll never get to hold Annabeth, his Wise Girl, ever again.

Cut back to 5 years ago to when Annabeth first wakes up after death. She’s confused at first but quickly realizes where she is after someone tells her welcome to Hotel Valhalla. It doesn’t bother her at first, thinking that with Percy’s luck, he’ll die like she did so she waits. She waits in the lobby for decades until one day, Magnus sits beside her and gently tells her that it's been over a century and that Percy wasn’t coming. Magnus looks over at her and sees the silent tears streaming down her face. Deep down, she’s known for a while but didn’t want to believe it. Magnus holds her as she cries louder into his shoulders, all the while, Annabeth is wondering to herself how can the fates be so cruel?

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #Magnus chase #Magnus #Percy #Annabeth #charles beckendorf #silena beauregard #Jason grace #Jason #zoe nightshade #Zoe #bianca di angelo #Bianca #percy jackson angst #what if Annabeth ended up in Valhalla without percy #percabeth #percabeth angst

718 notes · View notes

transhitman · 3 months ago

Note

I’ve seen a lot of Mouthwashing lets players get confused when Curly laughs when Jimmy finds the gun. I wanna try my take, lemme know if I’m delusional or not.

There’s a short story by Juan Rolfe called “No Dogs Bark” about a father carrying his son’s corpse back to their village so he can receive a proper burial. The father talks to his son’s body as if the young man is still alive. Through context clues, the reader learns that because of the father’s emotional neglect, his son ran off to become a highwayman and that’s ultimately what got him killed. There’s a line in book where the Father seems to come to terms with his son’s death, his failure as a parent, and that the last futile gift he can give his son is to endure the suffering with carrying a decomposing body back to town without stopping to rest so the boy can be buried as soon as possible:

“I cannot think of a sentinel’s burden so Hellish and so fit for a man like me.”

The choice of the word “sentinel” always stayed with me. The duty of a protector, a duty that this Father clearly failed when his son was alive and can only fulfill with futility in death.

When the player finally sees Anya’s body and where’s she positioned in Curly’s line of sight/proximity; I think Curly would say those same words.

Rolfe goes into detail about how the Father’s human senses reflexively react to the smell and sight of decomposition: eyes watering, visceral nausea, and lightheadedness, but the Father does nothing about it and says that sentence with “anguished joy”. Curly has no eyelids to blink away his watering eyes, can’t pinch his nose from the smell, or tend to his nausea. Literally every protective measure his body would employ to withstand being in the vicinity of decaying flesh is removed from him.

The fandom can debate whether Curly karmadically deserved to be in a position where he cannot look away from Anya’s corpse/put into the pod, but I think, HE THINKS he deserves it. Once Jimmy has that gun -practically a monument of Curly’s failure to protect Anya- is when he finally accepts her death. This flawed-but-good man and captain who has failed to protect his crew, accepts this final sentinel’s duty of being the last survivor of the Tupalr dissent into chaos. And He accepts this duty with complete anguished joy.

Okaaay this is so interesting. I at first took Curly laughing as like. Kind of breaking as he realizes the gun was literally right here the whole time. It should have been obvious where Anya hid it. Literally right next to him all these months. God, the irony. But I really like the interpretation that it's the point where he realizes he's going to either die or be the last one alive, and that he has finally reached his personal hell. Cause like. Anya and Daisuke are dead. Jimmy has the gun now and either he'll kill Swansea and then himself (because let's be honest, Jimmy would not chose to live with himself after this and I think Curly knows it), or Swansea will overpower Jimmy and then put Curly out of his misery like he did Daisuke. And Swansea sure as hell isn't taking the pod for himself after everything. And Curly knows there's no other outcome. Everyone is going to die because of what he did and he deserves to bear witness. Cowboy Bebop endscreen You're Gonna Carry That Weight. Fuck that's such a good interpretation...

#mouthwashing

101 notes · View notes

hailturinturambar · 1 month ago

Text

A Dark Obsession: Sauron and Galadriel's relationship

This analysis is not thought of in romantic or sentimental terms. But it seeks to understand how such opposite beings, separated by light and darkness, are able to coexist and even understand each other's deepest ambitions.

And to understand how this thread of darkness tied the destinies of Galadriel and Sauron, we need to remember how it all began. Or rather, who they were at the beginning of time when the world was young and there were no names for death.

When the world was young and the Valar ruled Arda, Melkor, who would become Morgoth, destroyed the peace in Middle-earth and Valinor, causing the destruction of the Two Trees.

With the help of Ungoliant, Morgoth darkened Valinor and the Valar despaired. With his servants, Morgoth returned to Middle-earth and brought pain and suffering to Elves and Men.

Galadriel was right. The Elves knew no words for death. The days in Valinor were golden and filled with good fortune, despite the malice of Morgoth. In the beginning, there was greater harmony. But, enraged by the loss of peace in their home, the Elves set out from Middle-earth in many companies. And Galadriel's family was present at the great pilgrimage.

The prophecy of Mandos was spoken, and sorrow and grief accompanied the journey of the Elves until the end of days. While Galadriel and the House of Finarfin fought against the forces of Melkor, Morgoth plotted in the darkness. And he was aided by his servants, and the worst of these was Sauron, his greatest lieutenant.

Like many elves in Middle-earth, Galadriel fought valiantly against the advance of evil and the forces of Morgoth. She was the sister of Finrod Felagund, mighty in wisdom and power.

Finrod ruled the elves while he fought against the enemies of the shadows. But even the mighty fall. And this moment defined, in the context of the show, the rest of Galadriel's days.

Marked by loss and grief, Galadriel realizes that she cannot live in peace until the last enemy has fallen at her feet. Morgoth has been destroyed, but Sauron, now greater and more terrible, stands ready to doom Middle-earth. Finrod's task becomes hers. It is her destiny to destroy those who condemned her brother to the cold and lonely halls of Mandos.

However, when anger and resentment remain attached to our souls, spirits and minds for too long, we become a little of what we seek to destroy. Hatred consumes even the noblest light. And Galadriel takes a path she had not foreseen when she decided to hunt Sauron and the evil he created. Who hunts whom now?

By the irony of the Valar or fate, Galadriel spent ages hunting Sauron, facing the furious weather in Helcaraxë and with nothing in her heart but revenge, Sauron was without fair form and struggling to survive in the depths of Middle-earth. The more you hate something, the more you attract it into your life, indeed.

Galadriel is alone on her journey, the elves are tired and weary. Ages have passed and Sauron has disappeared, there is no longer any reason to suffer a pointless search. Galadriel is forced to return to Lindon and abandon her pride. But is this enough for her?

No, I don't think so. Galadriel is a fighter, forged in steel and grief, after so many ages of fighting Morgoth and Sauron. She is unable to stop, she cannot stop. Her body and mind know only one path, revenge. Perhaps, because when the stars shine in the sky and the world sleeps, she is unable to move on until those she has lost see the sun rise once more.

Gil-galad senses the darkness slowly overflowing Galadriel's spirit. Hatred can be intoxicating until it becomes impossible to live without. She must now depart for Valinor and live in peace, a reward for her years of toil and hope of destroying Sauron.

The disagreement between Galadriel and Elrond, in my view, is the first sign of how the evil born of revenge is beginning to infiltrate Galadriel's mind, clouding the reason and light of her thoughts.

Elrond is wise and understands the suffering of Gladriel, his dearest friend, but he still realizes that this task will only cause more pain. He must convince Galadriel to give up her pursuit.

"Then why is it not gone from in here?"

It's a powerful scene. Galadriel touches her chest, her heart as she speaks passionately about what she's feeling. She couldn't let go of the hatred in her heart, could she? Evil can't let go of Galadriel's heart. Because this evil is not Sauron, this evil is her own desire for ruin and destruction against her tormentor.

This thought, however, is dangerous, since Melkor himself felt this way when faced with the punishments of the Valar.

Honestly, Galadriel's words to Elrond don't sit well with me. Doesn't he know the evil she has seen? This is vile, Galadriel. If we look back at Elrond's past, he has seen enough evil. The evil that has befallen his family, his people, himself.

But Galadriel is too blind to understand that many have suffered in Middle-earth, just as she has. Unlike them, she is trapped in the past. Leaving for Valinor is no gift to her. Not when she has lost so much, when she has suffered so much. Not when she has been given the pleasure of beholding again the beauty of the land of the Valar while the dead live in darkness.

It is not pride alone that compels Galadriel to abandon ship, but her own suffering. Ulmo, have mercy on her, for the waters of Arda are bearing her to meet the being who has caused her greatest grief.

Adrift at sea, Galadriel is taken to a group of shipwrecked people and that is when her path and Sauron's path meet again. Did he know who she was? I would say yes. Sauron knew his enemies, those who hunted him. After all, he killed her brother, how could he not know? Surely he felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that she would never recognize him.

Sauron is the Great Deceiver and this is his moment to entangle Galadriel in his plots. Sauron knows lies and nothing else, so Halbrand is there to test our minds. He is not Sauron at first glance, just a man. And he is as he weaves his deception.

There's a suspicious voice in my head, and it's asking to be heard. Honestly, when I first watched the first season, nothing about Halbrand really bothered me at first, but now I see things differently. So, let's talk about the worm.

In the prologue of the second season, we have the ship with the men of Middle-earth who are leaving in search of a better future, Númenor, perhaps. Sauron is with them when the worm attacks the ship. But, Sauron survives the attack of the creature. Even though it comes towards him in blind fury, it does not harm him.

So this quote right here will define what I'm saying here:

"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment. He took Minas Tirith by assault, for a dark cloud of fear fell upon those that defended it; and Orodreth was driven out, and fled to Nargothrond."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Sauron knew Galadriel's family and, most importantly, he commanded the beasts of Middle-earth. I understand then that the worm did not attack him for that reason. But why would the worm attack a second time, right where Sauron was?

I don't believe Sauron planned the second attack, not at first. However, when Galadriel comes to the shipwreck and he recognizes her, I suspect this plan has formed in his mind. All the mortals on the ship die, leaving only Galadriel and Halbrand. He is alone with her and can spill his lies.

Sauron, did you call the worm to be part of your great deception? I bet you did.

Were all of Sauron's actions evil? It is very difficult to say. Sauron did indeed repent when Morgoth was defeated, but he did not follow the Valar's will and fled to Middle-earth. However, this proves that he can repent, but that he simply refuses to do so.

So he could also do good, but he chooses not to. With Sauron, there are no right answers. His deception is too strong to affirm or deny. Still, he saved Galadriel and that changed the course of their journey.

There is a point during the time that Sauron and Galadriel are adrift that generates a lot of mixed opinions. Sauron was apparently vulnerable and letting his grief show. I believe he was, in part, vulnerable. Not because he was romantically interested, after all, they barely knew each other for that. But because his entire life had been turned upside down.

Sauron spent eons formless and wandering in the depths of the earth, bereft of his kingdom and his power. It is to be expected that he would be vulnerable. But, as I have already analyzed about Sauron and Adar/Galadriel/Celebrimbor, even when Sauron is being honest, he is being honest through lies that allow him to achieve his goals.

And now Sauron and Galadriel have arrived in Númenor. Was it at this point that Sauron considered destroying the people of Númenor? It is emphasized in the books that Sauron feared the people of Númenor because they could rival him in strength and power. They were a threat, and Sauron meets his threats with the same strategy. He destroys them.

Something I find very interesting about Sauron's character is how he shapes the desires of those around him. As Celebrimbor said in season two, Sauron plants ideas in your mind and makes you believe that those ideas were always yours. He does this with Galadriel.

Sauron regretted at first, but he did not return to Valinor and atone for his sins. Why would he be otherwise now? As much as I love the idea of Halbrand in Númenor, I am not blind to the fact that he did not exist. Could Sauron have stayed in Númenor and lived as a mortal? I doubt it. His thirst for power, his desire to rule, to heal Middle-earth, would have grown stronger in time.

And in my view, Sauron has been doing reverse psychology with Galadriel. When he says he wants peace for himself, that he wants to stay in Númenor and start over, it is not how he would have her understand it. As a mortal man. But when Galadriel sees it that way, she despairs. She wants him to fight with her against Sauron, against the evil that has also hurt him, as it has hurt her.

Galadriel has spent eons without her husband, whom she loved so much and lost in the war against Sauron, she has lost her family, and her friends believe she is becoming the evil she hunts. Halbrand is her salvation.

And Sauron's refusal only increases her efforts. That's his big deception, isn't it? Pretending you don't want something, just to get it without having to be honest.

When Galadriel fights the boys, Halbrand watches. Was he watching as an enemy? Honestly, I don't think so. I believe that once he realized that she trusted him and was following his plans, she was no longer a target for his malice. His demonstration with the sword incited her doubts, fueling her belief that he is the lost king.

But he keeps refusing, he keeps denying that he wants to leave for Middle-earth. Galadriel and Halbrand are in conflict, Míriel allowed the sending of the ships and will help the people of Middle-earth. But the king of the mortal people refuses to leave. Galadriel tries to convince Halbrand, but she did not foreshadow that conversation.

Behind all the deceit and perversion, I would say this was Sauron's most sincere moment. Wearing Halbrand's skin, he talks about the evil he has done, the suffering he has endured. And Galadriel understands him and feels sorry for him. Sauron knows it is only because she does not know his true face. Sauron is doomed to be accepted only when he assumes a form to please/deceive others. Morgoth, Galadriel, Mirdania, Celebrimbor.

Galadriel will not stop fighting, she is incapable of it. She will leave without Halbrand if necessary. Is Sauron compelled to leave? No. He uses Galadriel's insistence as a way to further guilt her, I will delve deeper into this shortly. I suspect he left because he could not resist the temptation to heal Middle-earth. If Sauron were capable of love, he would love Middle-earth. But it is a dirty, twisted love, born of malice in search of corrupted good.

And Sauron can finally take revenge on Adar. Sauron and Galadriel are ready to fight the Orcs. Galadriel confronts Adar head on and this moment changes many things in her. I believe that at this moment, she understood how anger and revenge were condemning her soul, contaminating it. And she wants to repair this mistake.

Then we have the conversation between Halbrand and Galadriel after Adar's interrogation. In his twisted and deceitful way, I believe that Sauron saw Galadriel as his equal.

A powerful being who could stand by his side in healing Middle-earth, as he stood by Morgoth, partners. She could be his salvation, as he was hers. The problem with the fantasy idea of salvation is that it often comes with deceit and despair.

Adar's final attack either foils Sauron's plans or not. Halbrand's wound is indeed a chef's kiss. Was he really hurt, or was it just an illusion? It's hard to say. But I'm sure he planned for his vulnerability to bring him closer to Galadriel. And indeed it did, when she took a mortal man to an elven kingdom, only for him to survive.

Galadriel has grown attached to Halbrand. He has seen the darkness in her and has not been frightened or rejected her, as she thought others had done. Halbrand ends up becoming her only ally.

Did Sauron expect Galadriel to fight him in Eregion? No, I don't think so. The two of them set off for the Elven realm, and Halbrand receives the help he needs. He is in the right place to achieve his ultimate goals. And Celebrimbor is within his reach.

That's how a third act in a play ends, isn't it? Halbrand's mask hasn't slipped. Sauron is just slipping into his lies because he's too confident to be careful. And who knows, maybe deep down he believes Galadriel really will follow him.

Celebrimbor was the deciding factor in Galadriel's unraveling. Galadriel was already wary of Halbrand in Eregion, who after his healing became very close to the forge and Celebrimbor, but I think she continued to deny the truth to herself. Refusing to see what was before her eyes.

Celebrimbor's words, however, cannot be a mistake. Adar spoke these very words to her. Words that Sauron spoke to him. Words that could only have been spoken to Celebrimbor through Halbrand. Seeking the lineage of the kings of Middle-earth is her last attempt to trust that Halbrand was honest, and it is all a mistake.

Halbrand seems different now, his words don't ring true and Galadriel notices the difference. She has spent weeks at Halbrand's side. She doesn't recognize this man.

"I will never forget that. And I'll see to it that no one else does either."

The words I said I would elaborate on later. Is Sauron grateful that Galadriel saved him? That's not the point here, but rather the guilt he places on her shoulders. Galadriel helped Sauron return, gave him the confidence and strength to fight in Middle-earth, at least that's what he wants her to believe. He would do all these things with or without her. But guilt is an aphrodisiac and once it sets in it's hard to fight.

The masks have fallen and Sauron no longer needs to lie. But did he really lie? He told Galadriel that he found the crest on a dead man, he was truthful. He said he was not the king she expected, true. He said he had done evil, true again. The problem with Sauron's honesty is that it is never total. He is truthful through the lies that will benefit him.

Sauron was surprised by Galadriel's refusal to stand by his side, indeed. I imagine he had not expected it. He had glimpsed the darkness in her, and had certainly expected her to yield. Could this be the point of no return?

In a final attempt, Sauron tests Galadriel's barriers. He speaks to her with the face of Finrod, who died by his hand. How did he think this would work? But the distorted image does not soften Galadriel, it strengthens her, so he tries again.

He takes her to the sea where they were adrift together, where they met and she began, even if unknowingly, to trust him. That vision has the opposite effect. It tarnishes the memory, distorts all events. Sauron then appeals to Galadriel's desire for power.

Gandalf was right, Sauron does not share power. But he can use this to convince Galadriel, even though they would not be equal in power. She could be strong at his side, feared and revered. The real manipulation is to claim that he would not be so dark with her by his side. It is too much of a burden for her to bear.

Galadriel's refusal infuriates Sauron. As discussed before, he does not take rejection well. And if Galadriel will not be by his side, he will destroy her in return. Galadriel is strong enough to escape, and Sauron is now far away.

All that remains is the weight of his lies and the void he left behind. Galadriel has been deceived by the one she pursued for so long, and she will have to deal with the consequences.

Galadriel's rejection begins Sauron's dark obsession with her.

In the second season, Galadriel and Sauron are estranged not only physically, but mentally. Sauron's lie still burns deep within her. While Sauron is in Adar's camp planning his new deception, Galadriel pursues Elrond.

Elrond is devastated. He has seen the worst of the Silmarils' effects and how obsession can hurt so many. After discovering that Galadriel deliberately lied to him, he sets out from Eregion with the Three Elven Rings to warn Gil-galad.

Gil-galad is furious, and rightly so. In her desperate quest to destroy Sauron, Galadriel has allowed the enemy to draw near. Are the rings the elves' salvation or their destruction?

Elrond and Galadriel, friends for centuries, are on opposing sides. Gil-galad knows that Celebrimbor must be warned immediately, while he discovers whether the rings have been corrupted. Elrond, however, leaves with them.

Galadriel disregards Gil-galad's orders countless times and he continues to trust her. He knows that she would never help Sauron if she knew, that she would not use the rings for his purposes. While they search for Elrond, Sauron arrives in Eregion and Celebrimbor is the new victim of his lies.

Sauron isolates Celebrimbor from the Elves, but he does not banish Galadriel from his mind. He pursues her, trying her strength, trying her darkness. The sight of Celebrimbor stirs the guilt she feels.

Galadriel fears that she is responsible for Sauron's return, and Sauron exploits this. Celebrimbor's death would be at her hands, he practically says, as he calls her name, preventing her from moving away from his power.

Gil-galad tries tirelessly to open Galadriel's eyes, to dispel the idea that Halbrand ever existed. No matter how justly he used it, he was always Sauron, her enemy.

Elrond, however, is too hurt to be fair. He fears what the rings might do, he has been through it before and he still suffers from it. Galadriel turns to her friend once more, wanting his support, his help, for someone to take the burden of guilt off her shoulders.

She fears giving in to Sauron once more, being seduced by his words and promises. She feels used and needs help to resist temptation, she knows that Sauron has not forgotten her. Elrond confronts her, he does not trust her, he fears that she will give in to Sauron once more. In Elrond's mind, if Galadriel does not refuse to wear the rings, then Sauron never abandoned her.

Did Sauron think of Galadriel in Eregion? I bet he did. She rejected him, scorned his promises, and resisted his power. He will not rest until she is as corrupted as he is. And Mirdania certainly reminded him of Galadriel. Deceiving Mirdania is fun, because he remembers Galadriel and how she escaped his deception.

In Eregion, Sauron is definitely busy. To forge the rings, he needs to corrupt each of them with his power, his malice, as he cannot with the Elven Rings. Galadriel was right, he did not corrupt them, and so he desired them all the more.

To prevent Sauron's plans, Galadriel sets out with Elrond and the elves of Gil-galad. It is not, however, an easy journey. Elrond is being harsh but fair with her. He fears for her and is resentful and above all, he is afraid of the rings. I do not believe that Elrond was angry with her, not out of malice. But rather out of fear of this new power.

But Galadriel is also hurt. She resents herself for trusting Sauron, for still thinking of him in part as Halbrand. It is frightening to accept the truth. She suffers from guilt and from being judged by everyone. She suffers, most of all, from having been deceived by Sauron.

Galadriel’s grief grows as she journeys, accepting that her hands are stained with blood, because evil drove them into the forest and Sauron deceived them, or so she believes. For all the evil caused by Sauron, Galadriel blames herself. And she speaks to Elrond.

Because she is desperate for companionship, for someone who can understand her fears, as Halbrand used to. She fears that Sauron knows her mind and that he can rule them all. She begs Elrond to choose the world, above her, if it will defeat Sauron. She will only assuage her guilt by sacrificing herself.

The Orc attack leaves everyone unprepared. They are close to Eregion, confirming the elves' fear that Sauron is already in control of the city and Celebrimbor's mind. Is this the moment when Galadriel chooses to surrender? When there is nothing left to lose and she knows that if the ring falls into the hands of Adar or the Orcs, peace will be shaken in Middle-earth.

If obsession had a name, it would be Sauron.

The rings of the people of Khazad-dûm are ready and working, or so they think. Sauron is having results with his plan. He can control Durin III's mind, intoxicating him with his power, slowly corrupting him, but he needs more.

Men need Rings. If he cannot control the Elves, he will need as many peoples bowing at his feet as possible in Middle-earth. And he does indeed intend to recover the Three Elven Rings. And Galadriel is his gateway.

The funny thing is how obsessed Sauron has become with Galadriel. I would say rejection caused it. Sauron is in Eregion forging rings, following his plan, dominating Celebrimbor's mind, but still he is thinking about Galadriel. Why doesn't he forget? I don't think Sauron is used to being rejected.

He thinks of Galadriel when he looks at Mirdania, doesn't he? The blondness of her hair, her elvish features, her innocence about his true nature. It is like deceiving Galadriel all over again. But he feels successful with Mirdania, because she does not distrust him. She has not suffered at the hands of Sauron's malice as Galadriel has, and that's why Galadriel notices him, she's very distrust and be marked by darkness.

He didn't need to talk about Galadriel while he was trying to deceive Mirdania. There was no reason or purpose in his plans for it. But I believe it's because he was obsessed. Sauron was obsessed with many things, all related to those who rejected him. Adar and his army, Galadriel and the Elves. The more he is rejected, the more he thinks about those who rejected him.

And now Galadriel is in the hands of her greatest enemy and ally. Adar suspected Halbrand, and yet he allowed him to escape. Now he needs Galadriel's help and her ring to destroy Sauron.

Like Elrond, Adar forces Galadriel to confront the truth. How consumed she was by Sauron’s destruction, blinded by the vengeance in her heart that she could not even recognize the evil that lay before her.

And most of all, Adar understands the emptiness that Sauron’s deception leaves. When he fills you with promises and beautiful lies, encouraging your mind to believe him, to desire what he is offering, only to suffer when he betrays you.

Galadriel says she resisted Sauron, but did she? She rejected him, abandoned him, and thwarted his plans. But the power he offered, the possible healing of Middle-earth, stuck in her mind, seduced her, even if she would not admit it.

Galadriel has drunk the wine of Sauron's words, as Adar had drunk the wine offered by Sauron ages before. But Galadriel cannot bear to admit that he has almost convinced her, even to Adar.

And she does not know whether she can trust Adar, and his empty promises. Destroying Eregion in Sauron's place is a price she is not willing to pay. The destruction of her beloved elven kingdom cannot be the solution.

Galadriel had no idea how deep Sauron's plans and evil were. And how strong Adar's determination to destroy Sauron was. Lindon's army arrived to protect Eregion and prevent the Orcs from destroying all the beauty and goodness of those people.

Everyone is desperate. Sauron needs Celebrimbor to finish the rings while Eregion is under siege, and Elrond needs to convince Adar to withdraw his army. Scheming, Elrond helps Galadriel escape, and she sets out among the people of Adar, trying to deceive the Orcs.

In the trenches, Galadriel see Arondir. This is her moment of clarity. Arondir is blinded by revenge against Adar, seeking to cover the wound caused by the Uruk. Just as Galadriel was blinded by revenge against Sauron when she returned to Lindon, when she decided that she could not bear to live in Valinor as long as Sauron lived. Galadriel cannot allow Arondir to be tainted by darkness as she has been.

When Galadriel arrives in Eregion, I believe she finally understands who Sauron really is. Since the revelation, Halbrand has remained in her mind, Sauron a vision not quite real. But the destruction of Eregion changes all that, Celebrimbor's suffering changes that.

Did Galadriel suffer when she saw how Celebrimbor mutilated himself? I am sure she did. Her beloved friend is wounded, his kingdom destroyed, because of Sauron. So she blames herself. For having trusted Halbrand who is Sauron. For having led Sauron to Eregion. For not having resisted Sauron's temptation long enough.

The forging of new rings is the final straw. Galadriel understands Celebrimbor's guilt and will not rest until she has redeemed herself and her friend. She accepts the rings to take them far away, away from Sauron and his dominion. Just as she intends to escape his dominion.

This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Galadriel has not encountered Sauron since his revelation, and she knows she cannot escape him forever. When she is taken to Adar, she struggles to believe that together they can right the wrongs of Sauron and the Orcs.

Galadriel is tired of fighting Sauron, as Adar was tired, as Celebrimbor was tired. So many ages of war and revenge have consumed her completely and she believes in Adar, she has no choice but to trust him.

Meeting Sauron again is a painful surprise. There he is, the evil of Middle-earth, the Dark Lord, the destroyer of Eregion and the bane of Elves and Men. But behind those words, she had once known him as Halbrand. The contrast between Halbrand and Annatar must have hurt Galadriel deeply.

Sauron fights not only Galadriel's body, but her mind, her spirit. He is ruthless in his attacks, attacking without mercy. But it is Sauron's words that cut deepest, the illusions he forces Galadriel to endure.

She can either follow Sauron and save Middle-earth, or she can be destroyed by him if she rejects him again. Worst of all, Sauron actually believes his words. That he would make Galadriel his queen to be fair, that they could save Middle-earth, that they could bring peace.

There is no salvation for Sauron, and he cannot fulfill any of his twisted promises. And Galadriel no longer believes in his illusions, even though to Sauron, they were real. His own truth.

Sauron says he doesn't want to hurt Galadriel, and I believe that's true. Just as he didn't want to hurt Celebrimbor. But he manipulates and betrays and doesn't accept when others abandon him, so he feels forced to hurt his opponents.

Sauron is as Celebrimbor said. The Great Deceiver who is able to deceive himself.

The Halbrand that Galadriel knew has changed and only Sauron remains. Galadriel, however, has also changed. She recognizes the pull of darkness, but she has changed. She is no longer the elf who fled Valinor and lied to Elrond, who defied Gil-galad. Galadriel is stronger and she will no longer let Sauron enter her mind. The mind he knew is gone.

"The door is still open." "The door is shut."

Sauron understands that despite all his attempts, despite all his deceptions, he will no longer be able to entice Galadriel, because she refuses his advances. Galadriel chooses death instead of him, to protect the elves, to protect her mind from him.

Sauron is once again alone and rejected, accompanied only by his power and ambition.

Did Tolkien ever consider Sauron to be obsessed with Galadriel's light? Galadriel has always been a strong opponent, great in power and light. Mighty in mind and wisdom. She would be an even better ally.

"I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The fellowship of the ring

Sauron is doomed to corrupt everything he touches and remain alone. He will never have Galadriel's mind to control and corrupt, because she knows his mind. And because she is stronger than the darkness in him, her light will continue to repel Sauron's advances throughout the ages.

And Sauron's obsession with Galadriel will never end. Wanting to know her mind, as she knows his, and as he once knew hers. Wanting to corrupt her light and turn her to his side. Wanting to convince her mind that his path is the only path.

Last words: Remember what I said a few days ago. This analysis is not romantic, mine are not and never will be. Everyone has their own opinion and way of understanding the show. And this is mine. Don't waste your time hating different views and couples. Let's take advantage and share our thoughts in harmony. Because this analysis is how I see the dynamics of Galadriel and Sauron, not yours, nor anyone else's, just mine.

And I don't even want to attack anyone with the analysis, so there's no reason to be attacked either. This fandom already has enough hate, the world already has enough hate. Let's be kind to each other! :)

#the rings of power #trop #the lord of the rings #tolkien #the silmarillion #sauron #morgoth #celebrimbor #annatar #galadriel #mairon #trop spoilers #morfydd clark #charlie vickers #galadriel x sauron #lotr #my analysis

82 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 4 months ago

Text

Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.

#rwby #rwbabies #summer schnee #weiss schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

114 notes · View notes

garbinge · 3 months ago

Text

THE ONES THAT HAUNT YOU

Mike Franks x F!Reader // Leroy Jethro Gibbs & F!Reader // Word Count: 5.6k Summary: When cases get personal, things get messy. After getting put as lead on a case that's personal to Mike, the two of you argue at work. As Gibbs walks in on the tail end of the fight, the two of you spark up a friendship. When you get home, Mike is waiting for you, tail between his legs ready to make up for the things he said and open up about the past... just in time for your past to come knocking. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. SMUT. Angst. Fighting. Yelling/Raising Voices. Mike being a little mean in the beginning but makes up for it later. Canon-level case violence/death/murder. Mental Illness/manic episode. A/N: This is pure Franks brain rot. I have nothing else to say. More from this universe

“You’re being an asshole.”

You were sitting at your desk, arms resting on the edge of it because most of the surface was covered by folders and papers. There probably had to be like 3 empty coffee cups to accompany the one cold one that you would still occasionally sip from. Mike was standing on the opposite side of your desk, his hands resting on his hips as you raised your voice to argue with him.

“Oh, I’m being an asshole?” Now one of his hands was pointing to his chest, the sarcastic smirk tugging at his mouth as he spoke. His eyes turned to the open door frame where likely some agents still were. He was thinking of his next words, if they were worth saying or if someone was in ear shot.

It was late, both of your teams were either home by now or taking a breather from their paperwork in the break room. It was just you two in the bullpen, and when he realized that, he let the words fly from his mouth after a quick head shake. “If I’m so much of an asshole, why the hell you with me, huh?”

“Something I’m asking myself at the moment.” Your response came back quick, not needing to think of something smart to say, it already lived at the tip of your tongue. That was one thing you and Franks did well. Argue.

“In that case you should leave.” His reply was delivered just as fast. Eyebrows raised and the pissed look on his face growing as the seconds passed, all while his hands went back resting on his hips.

“You’re at my desk.” It was at that moment that you placed your hands palm side down over the mess. Internally you were flinching, you hated when things got like this, when they got messy. But the irony in it was you’d hate it so much it’d pretty much become a constant.

“I came over here because I had a shit fucking day and needed to blow off some steam, figured you’d like to join me, not to get shit thrown in my face.” His voice was louder now, it was unlikely someone heard what he said, but they’d probably heard him raising his voice. Lucky for you, that wasn’t cause for alarm around here. Franks was always raising his voice.

“You forget that I have the same fucking days as you? I sit right across from you,” you pointed to the desk 6 feet in front of yours. “I get heavy caseloads, the same late nights, and I deal with all of that on top of your annoying ass attitude.” Your face twisted at that, turning to look at your work, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone but that was wishful thinking.

“I–“

You didn’t let him even start the sentence before you slammed your hands against the desk in an attempt to get him to stop. “And if all you’re here for is to blow off steam, join a fuckin’ gym, Franks. i’m not a fuckin’ game, I have feelings that I don’t just shove to the back of my brain the minute they pop up.” It was a direct shot at him and by the look on his face, he knew it.

“We really doing this?” That first question felt genuine despite the slight sarcasm in his voice. It was almost pleading, a desperate attempt to stop your arguing. But when you couldn’t hide the attitude on your face, all that went out the window. “You wanna do this?”

“Won’t be the first time I danced with the devil, Franks.” Another shot. It’s what you’d call your, well, whatever this was. Dancing with the devil. You had a think for reckless behavior. For mess. No matter how much you’d vocalize that you hated it.

It became a joke. Everytime you’d knock on his door, you’d smile and tell him you were there to dance with the devil.

—-

One day you literally did it. 2AM in his kitchen, you both were working the same case, both his team and yours were assigned on it, an all hands on deck situation. When you relieved your teams, both of you went back to Mike’s place and made a work station out of his dining room table. When you retreated to grab another cup of coffee from his kitchen, you felt him grab your hand and twirl you around. There was no music, just the sounds of your own laughs and footsteps on the kitchen tile. You rested your head against his shoulder, he began humming a song lightly as the two of you fell into a rhythm of swaying.

“We aren’t going to solve it tonight.” His voice was soft as he spoke in your ear.

“We’re close. I feel it.” You also felt the heaviness in your eyes as you fought the sleep coming over you.

You felt the vibration of his chuckle in your body, the light peck of his lips against your head, slightly touching your forehead a bit. “You’re stubborn.”

“I just need to find whoever did this.” You brought your arms up tighter around his back.

He adjusted his arm around your shoulders, now hugging you instead of using your hand to guide you in a slow pace. “This case is different for you, I can tell.”

“It’s personal. The first victim–” you closed your eyes, you were able to hear Mike’s heart thumping, “she was a friend. Jessica. My brother’s girlfriend.”

“And Wheeler let you on the case?” Even with your eyes closed and looking in a completely different direction, you could feel the way his brows were furrowed into one another. This was new information to him, but he deserved to know, you just had to tell him at your own pace.

“We’re short staffed, Wheeler would make me work my own murder case.” It was a joke, but it was true, this was all hands on deck because there were massive gaps in NIS right now.

“Now you bite your tongue.” He was pulling out of your hug, his feet stopped swaying to look at you, his brows still furrowed.

“Why would I do that when I got you to do it for me.” Your lips turned to a smirk.

His face lightened up for just a quick second before he was leaning down and dropping a kiss to your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and pulling it out just slightly before releasing it and looking down at you.

“You’re dancin’ with the devil, you know that?” He mumbled against your mouth.

“Havin’ a damn good time doin’ it, too.” You placed a light kiss on his mouth since it was still centimeters away from yours.

“And if Wheeler finds out?” Now his brows lifted, real curious towards your response.

“Didn’t see anything about dancing with the devil in the handbook.” You shrugged and brought Mike back in close to you, moving your feet to start leading the both of you in a sway again.

“Wouldn’t know, I never read the damn thing.” He chuckled, grabbing you right back and falling back into the motion.

The two of you comfortably fell into a silence, just rocking back and forth, now to the hum of the fridge and the light under the microwave. It was probably 30 minutes of this, before you tapped his chest and looked up at him. Both of you had dark bags under your eyes, but sleep wasn’t going to be next on the list. There was still too much to sift through.

“If Wheeler finds out it won’t matter.” Now you were turning to grab your luke warm coffee, pouring a shit ton of sugar in it and stirring it around although there wasn’t much heat left in the coffee to dissolve it as quickly.

“And why’s that?” Mike had leaned back on the small bistro table in his kitchen, his arms crossed against his chest.

“Because we’re understaffed, he can’t afford to fire us for misconduct.” You smirked and turned around, bringing the mug up to your mouth to take a sip.

Mike laughed at that and shook his head. “If he does say anything, I’ll bring up that dancing with the devil isn’t in the handbook.”

You were walking past him, back to the kitchen table. “Mm, should be in the training, though.”

—-

“You’re emotional. You’re immature, you run into shit without thinking first.” He began listing things off.

“Sounds like you’re talking about yourself.” You leaned back in your chair now, your arms crossed, wondering where this argument was going to go.

“I learn from the best, baby.” Despite the smile on his face, he was being cruel. Picking at whatever he could to get under your skin.

It was then that footsteps entered the bullpen, neither of you were looking at who just walked in, your eyes were glued on eachother, the anger and frustration practically burning holes in your faces.

“Get the fuck out.” You spoke it at a normal tone, but your teeth were gritted and your face was tight.

“Hey—” He was trying to backpedal now, you could see it in that last second of him staring at you, the flinch in his right eye that said everything he never would.

“Get the fuck out.” You repeated it, this time pushing off from leaning back in your office chair.

Franks nodded briefly, like he was taking an order from you and was out the entrance closest to your desk in seconds.

You knew it was Gibbs who had walked into the bullpen, without bothering to even look in that direction. He spent as much time as possible here, burying himself in the work.

“The hell was that?” He was walking towards his desk, but took the extra steps to make it closer to yours, dropping a cup of hot coffee down in one of the only clear spots left on your desk.

“That was Franks doing what he does best.” Your eyes looked over at the coffee cup and nodded in appreciation before bringing it to the permanent spot in your hand as you stared down at the photos you had just removed from a folder once Franks left.

“Y–“ Gibbs began to speak but you cut him off.

“Gibbs. I want you to think very carefully before you speak.”

He nodded and moved swiftly to his desk to work. It was just you two, the main overhead lights were off since it was well past 10PM now, the only lights being the desk lamps from yours and Gibbs’s desk. You preferred it that way, it made everything around you disappear aside from the files in front of you.

Mary Jo had said goodbye about an hour ago, dropping one more folder on your desk based on a request you had asked her earlier in the day. Lala had been in the breakroom with Strickland and had peaked in to say goodbye, too. Randy had gone home at end of day because his kid had a sports game and you had told your team to head home around 7 because you needed to take in this new case alone..

You wiped your hands across your face before taking the last sip of coffee. This cup, you decided to throw get up and throw out, simply because there just wasn’t any room to store it on your desk anymore.

“i know you two are together.” Gibbs’s voice caused your eyes to move towards his, debating what you wanted to say to him, soaking in his words.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” You nodded,”We’re sneaking around investigators, would be a bit alarming if someone didn’t realize.”

Gibbs did his best job at a knowing smile. “What he do?”

That got you to smile, his immediate instinct was to blame Franks.

“I love your faith in me probie.” You walked over to lean on the side of your desk, your arms crossing along with one leg over the other as you stared at him.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” He let out a small chuckle, “plus, I know what that looks like.”

You looked up at him with sorrowful eyes, it wasn’t a secret that Gibbs had recently lost his wife. With your hands dropping to grip the edge of your desk, you let out a large exhale.

“If I wasn’t a part of NIS, things would be different. We run things so differently, things I do for my team compared to how he runs his. We work differently. We think differently. Sometimes I think if I had met Franks in some other life he’d actually care about me.”

“He cares.” Gibbs answered so quickly, and while you knew that was true, you also knew that with the lives you and Franks had, caring wasn’t always enough.

“I got put on a cold case.” The sentence wasn’t enough to explain what had caused the tension between you two, but it was something.

“And he’s pissed about that?” Gibbs wasn’t on your team, but you were aware that he didn’t talk much, so the fact he was open to this conversation with you was intriguing to say the least.

“He was the lead agent on it 7 years ago.” There it was, the clarity was starting to come to light.

“Ah.” Gibbs understood now.

“They wanted a new pair of eyes. The case officially went cold the week I started at NIS–it was Mike’s first case as a Supervisory Special Agent– It’s not lost on me the weight of that. Wheeler brought us both to his office, mentioned that Strickland had found new evidence when going over old files and the case was opening back up. It honestly is such a big case I figured both our teams were going to divide and conquer but turns out Wheeler just wanted me to take a look tonight before assigning out my team on it tomorrow. Told Franks to be available to me.”

“You asked him something and he snapped.” Gibbs put the pieces together, but he was wrong.

Shaking your head you tilted your head. “I wasn’t ready to bring him in yet and he didn't like that.”

Gibbs nodded.

“I needed to marinate on it, take in everything without his perspective skewing mine. It’s how I work.” You shook your head, frustration tensing on your shoulders. “Franks knows how I am. Knows I do things on my timeline. I need a fuckin’ minute to check my gut.”

That got Gibbs attention. “He teach you that? To trust your gut?” The question was inquisitive, like he was curious to instructions on how he best could trust his.

That got you to laugh, blowing the air out of your mouth you kicked off your desk and looked down at the papers. “He got that from me.”

Gibbs smirked at that too, he wanted to ask more but he let it be and stood up, making his way over to yout desk to take in the files. “That what you've been doin all night?”

You nodded, a million thoughts going through your head.

“And?” That was the question asked where he hoped he’d learn more about trusting your gut, but unfortunately, your gut was coming up short on this one.

“And I need to ask Franks a god damn question.” You opened your notebook to a long list of notes. “or 20.”

“They turn the coffee machine off at 11.” Gibbs said, looking at your empties.

“I’m gonna head out. Change of scenery will do me good.” You grabbed your desk phone and started to press 0 for an operator. “Cab, NIS to Cherry Grove.” As you waited for them to respond you were piling all your work into a pile. “Fuck you mean 35 dollars?” Dropping the papers you grabbed the phone that was originally tucked between your ear and shoulder as if getting the speaker closer to your ear would make the answer change.

“Surge rates? It’s 1:30AM?!” You slammed the phone down, definitely more angrily than you needed it to be but you were just taking out all the pent up emotion from earlier.

“C’mon. I’ll drive you.” Gibbs was staring at you, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Thanks for driving me, Franks drove me in this morning.” You never minded keeping your relationship with Mike secret, but there was something freeing about being so open about it to Gibbs.

“How do you know when to trust your gut?” The question felt out of left field. It echoed in the cabin of his truck.

“You always trust your gut, Gunny.” You smirked over at him before pointing in the direction he needed to turn to get on your street. “Right here.” You pointed to the only house with the porch light on.

As he pulled up against the curb, you both saw Mike sitting on your porch, his elbows leaning on his knees.

Gibbs didn’t say it, but you knew what he was thinking. See, he cares.

“I know he cares. He cornered Artie in the men’s bathroom when he heard him tell Roger I was a diversity promotion.” You remembered Artie coming up to you to apologize, it wasn’t sincere, but there was fear behind it. It was likely that Franks threatened him if he didn’t say something to you.

“Make him sweat it a little bit.” The comment earned you to snap your head towards Gibbs who was trying to hide a smile.

“Did we just become friends, Gunny?” He wasn’t on your team, so while he was technically below you in rank, there was a little more leeway in how you two could speak to eachother, share things.

“If we did, you can call me Jethro.”

That got you to smile back at him with a nod. “You got it, Gunny. See you tomorrow.”

You had full intentions to make it a point not to share anything on you and Franks but after the little conversation that went on, you knew it wasn’t necessary.

As you walked up to your house, you stepped right past Mike, not acknowledging him, just placing your key in the door. Franks didn’t look up at you, just kept his elbows resting on his knees, his head looking down at the ground. Gibbs was still parked on the curb, waiting for you to unlock your door. He was well are that with Franks presence he didn’t need to make sure you got in okay, but you’d have to pry chivalry out of Gibbs cold dead hands.

As you pushed the door open, you spoke over your shoulder. “You comin’ in?”

Franks was standing up and as you waved him inside, he walked past you into your home, head still down like a sad puppy. Turning to the truck, you offered a quick wave to which Gibbs lifted two fingers in a wave himself, and then you stepped inside your home.

You kicked your shoes off next to Mike’s, then followed your daily routine of getting home. Placing your bag on the hooks, dropping your badge on the entry table, locking your gun in the safe. Pouring yourself a glass of wine.

This time though, you cracked open a beer to give to Franks who was sitting at your kitchen table.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Placing the beer down, you brought your glass to your lips as you retreated to the bathroom. The hot water steamed the room up, it made the condensation on your wine glass drip even more than before as it sat on the soap dish in the shower.

“On a scale of 1-10, how much do you hate me?” His drawl didn’t scare you, you knew he’d pop in, it’s why you left the door open.

“8.5” You said as the water trickled down your back, grabbing the wine to take a sip from it.

“Damn.” He clearly wasn’t expecting it that high.

“It’s been higher.” You tried to offer some solace.

“It’s been lower.” Now the shower curtain was being pulled back slightly. His eyes met yours which were looking over at him as you drank the rest of the glass. “Refill?” He held up the bottle and you tipped your glass so he could fill it up. “You wanna dance with the devil?” Putting the cork back in the bottle, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“The water’s hot, the way you hate it.” With a smile, the words Gibbs had spoken to you right before you got out of the car were sitting in your head. Make him sweat it a little bit.

“I was an asshole.” Those words took you by surprise. Mike never apologized, but he found ways to dance around them with you.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You placed the glass back down on the soap dish and tilted your head back into the stream of water.

“I shouldn’t have been an asshole.”

With that, you sighed. “Get in.”

It didn’t take him long to be unclothed and standing inside the tub with you, he was quick to wrap his arms around you, your bodies pressed against each other. He placed a quick kiss to your lips, it was his way of reading where you were, if you were going to pull away, if you melted into the kiss, felt distant.

As he pulled away, he moved his hand to grip your face, wiping the streams of mascara off your face before leaning in and kissing you again, this time longer and even though he opened his mouth slightly, he didn’t slip his tongue into your mouth, he wasn’t trying to seduce you, he was just trying to make it up to you.

He leaned to get the shampoo and started to lather the product in his hands before rubbing it on your scalp. You wished it didn’t feel as good as it did, you let out a couple moans as his fingers massaged your scalp.

“Turn around.” His gruff voice sent a chill down your spine despite the scalding hot water that was currently trickling down it. Turning so now your front was in the water stream, you tilted your head back as he continued to massage your head, his hands then moving down to your shoulders. Each movement moving your back closer against him. You could feel him hard against you, but he did nothing to remedy it, just focused on the suds above your shoulders. “Turn and rinse.” He spoke again and you obliged, washing the shampoo out of your hair.

The process repeated with conditioner, and then the soap along your body. By the time your shower was done, your muscles were more relaxed than they had ever been.

“Go, dry up. I’ll be just a minute.” He was turning to let you step out of the shower, your hand in his as you stepped on the bath mat and grabbed your towel. Closing the curtain you heard the water temperature knob squeak, the noise it always made when the water turned colder. You couldn’t help but smile, you always burned your skin in the shower and Franks hated it. Instead of retreating to your bedroom, you plopped up on the sink, waiting for him to finish up.

As the curtain opened, you let your towel start to fall down, part of your skin starting to peek through as it did. Mike caught your eye and then let his fall down to your body before looking back up at you, searching your face to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding the context.

You tilted your head slightly, telling him to come closer to you with no words at all. He stepped forward, his body covered in droplets still, his hair dripping wet but still twirled in those curls that your fingers would get tangled in. His arms rested on the edges of the sink, closing you in between them. Wrapping your legs around him was all the invitation he needed, his face fell immediately into the crook of your neck, sucking the sensitive area of skin there before tracing it with his tongue. While your head fell back, giving him more area to work with, you wrapped one hand around his shoulders and the other fell down to touch him. You pumped his member right against your entrance, the tip just ever so slightly touching you. That mixed with the work Mike was doing on your neck, you could feel yourself get wetter.

You moved slightly, leaning back against the mirror and pushed your chest out, begging Mike to put your breasts in his mouth and he obliged without any confusion in your body language.

You let out a loud moan, your hands cupping his face as he sucked on your nipple, bringing your hand into his hair and gripping at those curls tightly.

Not wanting to wait another second, you grabbed him and began pumping again, this time you could feel he had his own wetness at the tip and you couldn’t help but use his cock to rub it against your clit before positioning it at your entrance, letting it go in just slightly.

“More.” You spoke into his ear and he didn’t need you to say it twice. He pushed inside you and while you let your head fall back against the mirror again, his fell on your shoulder. Both of you letting out a moan. He stayed there for a few seconds before slowing moving out and pumping back in you, each movement earning a noise from you that he gladly moved to catch in his own mouth.

He kissed you with passion, they were hard, like his thrusts as they began to speed up.

“You feel so fuckin’ good.” The words were whispered as your eyes practically rolled back in your head.

“Think that’s my line, sweetheart.” He chuckled, looking down as he watched himself enter in and out of you, his tongue swiping around his lip like he was hungry for more.

Widening your legs apart, you brought them from wrapped around his waist to snug parallel against his sides, he used his hands to hold them there as he continued to pump inside you, his grunts making you more wet if that was even possible. Moving one hand to touch your clit, you practically cried out from the tender touch of your own hand. Mike was quick to readjust, dropping his hands from your legs and using one hand to lay on top of yours, his polite way of telling you he’d gladly rub your clit for you and his other hand resting on the mirror behind you for balance.

You kept your legs where they were, your knees pressing tightly into his side just made him go faster.

“You look fuckin’ perfect.” You thought he was looking down at you but his eyes were staring right at your face.

You brought your hand back up to his face, cupping it tightly as his hips grinded. The hand that was resting on the mirror moved to readjust you slightly, just sliding you down ever so slightly to change the angle he was fucking you at and bless him for it because it was then that you cried out as his cock hit that spot that made you come undone with the matching pressure of his fingers swirling on your clit.

As you reached your climax, the tightening around his cock caused him to come undone. Both of you moaning and grunting before you let your chests rise and fall to catch your breath. He pulled out of you. Your hand still on his face as he did so he brought his own up to hold it there tighter, pressing a light kiss to the inside of your wrist before helping you off the sink. Every muscle he had just massaged in the shower had just tightened up from being fucked on the bathroom sink but it was incredibly worth it, and maybe you could use it as an excuse for this to happen again.

He bent down to pick the towel up for you, wrapping it around you and using the bottom hem to clean up his mess that was dripping down your leg. Mike grabbed a towel of his own, wrapping it around his waist while you both retreated to the bedroom. He had a drawer with some things in it, so while you were at the vanity putting on your lotion, he was grabbing a shirt for you, and something for him to cover up. The large NIS long sleeve was being handed to you along with a pair of shorts you always wore to bed, then he moved to put his own underwear on. Pulling the cigarette pack out of his jean pockets, he then dropped those belted pants and button up shirt on the ground before picking up a lighter to his cigarette.

“So Gibbs knows?” His voice was altered as he inhaled the cigarette smoke.

“It’s almost like he’s a special agent.” You teased as you brought the shirt over your body.

“So what, you two like friends now or something?” He was teasing you back.

Smirking, you came up behind him and rested your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his abdomen. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” The words were probably in poor taste, considering he wanted to know so much about your thoughts on this case. It was why he was being such a jerk earlier. After he chuckled a bit, his body language got serious, you felt his body tense up against you.

“You remember when we were workin’ that murder case. The one where your friend was the victim.”

It should’ve surprised you, the fact that a heavy statement like that did nothing to shake you, to make your gut twist, but it did none of that. All it did was cause your heart to stop for half a second before going back to normal.

“That case was personal to you.” He nodded, hoping you were understanding where he was going with it, but you weren’t gonna let him not say more. “This–this case. Is personal to me.”

“I wasn’t shutting you out.” You mumbled the sentence against his back.

“I know.” He nodded and took a deep breath.

“Actually have tons of questions for you. I just needed to marinate.”

“Yea, I get that.” He nodded. “You wanna ask me your questions?”

“No.” Now it was your turn to not say more than that.

He nodded again and let out another deep breath.

“But I have one I need to ask you.” You pulled your head off his back and rested your chin on it instead. “How close were you to him?”

Him. Just the word made Mike flinch, the difference in both of you, how for you, your old personal case didn’t even cause you to tremble, but for Franks, he physically felt his body react to the question. That was the difference between these personal cases. Yours was closed. The killer was 6 feet in the ground. This case had no sign of closure in sight, and that was now your weight to carry.

“When he was alive? Not very.”

“But after?” You knew there had to be a point for him to bring up that question.

“When he died, I’ve never felt closer to him.” The words made him choke up a bit. “I talked to him, when I was working the case, I’d talk out loud to him like he was there with me.” He let out a laugh like he found it hard to believe himself. “He still haunts me.”

When you saw the name in the folder, you understood entirely. It was his former team member, before he was promoted to Supervisory Special Agent on a different team.

Just as you were about to speak, there was a knock at your door, a loud one, frantic even.

Mike was quick to stand up straight, his jeans were on his legs in seconds, his fingers quickly fastening the buckle as he made his way to the door.

“Stay here.” His voice was firm, he knew you were just as capable as him to deal with whoever was banging at your door at 3AM, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to deal with it himself.

As the door swung open, his gun in hand and cigarette hanging from his mouth, his face tightened to frighten whoever was there. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Uh, sorry. I was–was looking for my sister.” The stuttering made it very clear the man was stressed, likely in a panic.

“August?” You spoke your brother’s name, your hands grabbing Mike’s bare skin to move him over, staring almost frozen at the sight of your brother. “What happened?”

“It’s Jessica, I can’t find her.” And just like that, the twist in your gut came back. Your eyes closed, and you squeezed Mike’s arm before moving past him and grabbing your manic brother into your arms.

“It’s okay, Auggie. We’ll find her.” Lie. Mike was trying to rack his brain around everything. “Go lay on the couch, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Your brother hadn’t been the same since losing Jessica. It’s why you put everything on the line to take the case all those years ago. It’s why you wanted to look at this case with fresh eyes-no sway, because the minute someone planted an idea of how things went down with Jessica, you spent 12 crucial hours following that thought just for it to come up as a dead end. You should’ve followed your gut. From that day forward, you always followed your gut.

As your brother moved to the couch, his hands shaking and head nodding as he repeated your words, you turned to Mike. After you told him to go put a shirt on and put on a pot of coffee for you both, you squeezed his arm with one more thing to say.

“The cases don’t have to be cold for them to continue haunting you.”

Dividers by: realitycanbewhateveridesire ♡ 🕵️ NCIS Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @ilovemark1951 @shamelessturtlebeliever @babebaber (let me know if you’d like to be added!)