#apparently that stuff only matters when its Him who has responsibilities

[trans-yllz]

killing my housemate with hammers

[freesia-writes]

Ch 36: Clarification

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2k

Hunter watched as the ship disappeared into the clouds, feeling its jump to hyperspace as he stared after it in utter disbelief. He couldn’t get to Tech’s fast enough, mind racing the entire way. 

“That is a most fascinating series of events,” Tech observed after Hunter had filled him in on the tumult of the last few days. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Hunter grumbled, taking a long drink from his cup of caf. “So, she wasn’t lying?”

“I did not detect a single trace of deception. Considering your apparent affinity for attracting supernatural activity on this island, it will likely be a fruitless search for concrete scientific answers.”

“I’m not looking for this supernatural stuff.”

“I know.” Tech skimmed through the data the scanner had recorded, reviewing and confirming what he’d surmised. “Her mind seems entirely convinced of the story she told. There are some odd physiological markers in the parts of her brain responsible for memory. It would appear that she has somehow been reverted to a past state, with absolutely no recollection of any of the events you shared together. It is a neurobiological phenomenon called autobiographical amnesia.”

“You’re sure?”

“There is no other possibility. If there were, I would likely have some inkling and would be able to follow the trail to a solid conclusion. But, as it stands, the semi-sentient island seems to have freed you entirely from any potential repercussions or further concerns.”

“I don’t believe it…”

“Hunter,” Tech said, slightly exasperated now. “It is not the first time we have seen inexplicably mystical occurrences, both here and in the galaxy at large. I would advise that you consider it a wonderfully fortuitous part of your narrative and proceed as usual.” 

“Better than any of the alternatives,” he said darkly, having considered every possible way to neutralize the threat that she represented, some of which were decidedly more gruesome than he felt comfortable with.

“Indeed. It is wildly convenient. This island seems to be quite useful in your story.”

“Guess so.”

“The only additional matter at hand is any remaining interaction between you and Lyra.”

Hunter took a deep breath, his rich brown eyes fixed in a distant gaze out the window.

* * * 

The door swung open shortly after the gentle knock, and Lyra beamed when she saw Hunter, then quickly adjusted it into a smaller, more acceptable smile. She ushered him in, having dressed in her usual attire – a loose, beige dress made of linen and a knitted cardigan over it, although this time the sweater was a blush pink color that gave her a more feminine look. A litany of drool-worthy smells filled his nose as they arrived in the kitchen, the counters strewn with nearly every cooking tool she owned, and she rested her backside against the counter, regarding him meekly. 

“Apparently I like to cook when I’m stressed,” she confessed with a self-effacing chuckle. “You hungry?”

“I wasn’t before I walked in,” he rumbled, gaze moving from the baked goods cooling on a rack near the window to the large pan on the stove with a savory scramble steaming in it. She smiled, moving at once to put a kettle on and fetch some plates. 

“So uh… What the heck happened?” She couldn’t wait a moment longer to hear the rest of the story. 

“Tech is absolutely positive that she somehow reverted to her life a few years ago. She’s completely convinced that she was here on vacation, never met us before, has no idea who we are, and was content to go back to her freelance journalist job based out of Coruscant. Apparently she still has an apartment there, and GNN allows her to come and go instead of requiring a steady presence, so it will be unbelievably effortless for her to just slip back into life there.”

“I don’t believe it,” she said softly, stirring a splash of cream into his caf the way she remembered he liked it. 

“Me neither, to be honest. But Tech was sure.”

“How would it–” She was interrupted by the chime of Hunter’s commlink, and he pulled it from a pocket and clicked a button. 

“Yeah?”

“I have some additional information for you and Lyra,” Tech’s distorted voice reported. 

“Great,” Hunter said, not sure how many more complications he could take. 

“I was further piecing together all of the events that have transpired from the very start and corroborating them with any and all evidence I could locate. A recent news development may prove to be reassuring to both of you.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” he said. Lyra stepped closer to listen, brushing her arm against his before pulling away self-consciously. 

“Am I correct in assuming that Vuxpasian Trawley is Lyra’s former boss, the one that has been seeking to have her either incarcerated or disposed of?”

“Yes,” she answered, and Hunter felt the tension grip her entire body. 

“Excellent. He is dead.”

“Very straightforward, Tech. Thank you,” Hunter said, voice laced with affection for his brother’s unique style of communicating as Lyra gasped softly beside him, both hands racing to her mouth.

“I also have some additional information,” Crosshair drawled. Apparently everyone was on the same comm frequency today.

“I am not finished–” Tech protested.

“Too bad. This is important,” Crosshair insisted, not waiting for a reply. “Hunter… A Bantha sent a message. He wants to know why you stole his hairstyle.”

The guffaw that burst out of Lyra’s mouth made her immediately clap a hand over it, her cheeks flushed with immediate embarrassment as she looked apologetically at Hunter, whose lips were pressed together.

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

Tech continued, sparing not a single moment for Crosshair’s ridiculousness. “Anyway, while not directly stated in the official documents, it is more than obvious that it was none other than Emperor Palpatine who saw him dead. Trawley was reported to have been conducting his own research in the field of cloning, which as we know, is of utmost importance to Palpatine. By reading between the lines, I was able to deduce that he tried to blackmail the Empire by threatening to sabotage their own work in the field if they did not give him a position of esteem. Needless to say, it did not end well for him. So he, and anyone else who would have cared about the evidence possessed by Lyra and her daughter, have been… neutralized, to put it more gently for the apparently sensitive ears.”

Lyra stared at the comm, a myriad of expressions dancing across her face as she shook her head slowly, reeling from just how much had changed in a single twenty-four hour period. A deep, shaky breath was her best attempt at calm, and she pulled out a wooden chair to settle herself at the table. 

“The two of you may benefit from some time to process all of this. It is downright astonishing how every single factor that would stand in the way of a peaceful, happy future without fear of outside threats seems to have been taken care of. If I believed in fate, I would posit that it is in your favor. Anyway, see you at family dinner on Benduday.”

“And maybe try to put that mess into a ponytail,” Crosshair added, followed by Wrecker’s laugh and a deep inhale. Hunter clicked the comm off before he could finish whatever he was about to say.

He sank into the seat beside Lyra, rubbing his forehead with one hand before resting them both on the table. They both faced the wall, staring at the endless array of knick knacks and nature collections that summed up her delight with the simple things in life, and lost themselves in thought. 

“So… We’re just free to live happily ever after?” she finally asked, her skepticism laced with a depth of yearning that she didn’t want to admit. 

His distant stare dropped to the table, following the gnarled pattern of the wood grain that flowed and spiraled beneath his hands. The self-imposed yoke of doubt that rested heavily across his shoulders reminded him of the improbability, and yet that cynical voice of disbelief now had a competitor: a tiny, wistful flicker of hope.

“Want to eat?” Lyra broke the silence with her timid question. The delicious scents of her kitchen frolicked back into his consciousness, and he nodded, bringing himself back to the present. She fetched a couple of mismatched plates, one dark blue and handmade, the other more elaborate with a delicately woven vine along the edges, and piled each one high with a scramble, croissant, chopped potatoes, and fruit. Hunter couldn’t help but chuckle as she set the single-plate feast in front of him, and he quickly clarified as her face revealed insecurity.

“No, this is great,” he said quickly. “It’s just enough to make Wrecker feel full… for at least an hour.” 

She laughed self-consciously, fingers toying with the messy braid resting over her shoulder, and shrugged. “I’ll tell you what I told Breslin as a child – eat what you want and leave the rest.” Her expression deepened as the memories surfaced, and Hunter found himself with a strong desire to be privy to her internal thoughts. 

“You were pretty young yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, stabbing a potato with her fork. “Young and dumb,” she smiled. “But I’ve always been an old lady at heart, no matter my actual age.” Her little snicker warmed his heart, and then she became suddenly serious, eyes distant and full of thought. 

Hunter waited.

“If we really are safe… I wonder if Breslin could come live here… Although she had a pretty good setup on Keytoll, so I don’t know if she’d even want to. But gods, I’ve missed her.”

“How old is she?” 

“Twenty-four.”

“So you had her when you were–”

“Eighteen. It wasn’t ideal by any means, and there’s never been a father in the picture. She was the consequence… turned into a gift… of some foolish choices.” She reflected for a moment, slowly swallowing another bite of potato, then studied him intently, a question on her lips that she seemed to be holding back. 

“What?” he prompted, catching her gaze. 

“You’re… twenty-eight?” The barely-restrained cringe on her face spoke volumes, and he felt his heart sink a little. 

“Yeah… But…” The truth of his engineering hung over him like a shameful dark cloud. “We were created with an accelerated aging process. So we age at twice the rate of… real people.” The pain in his voice at the last two words was unmistakable, and Lyra’s face deepened with compassion. 

“You are a real person,” she whispered, eyes glistening with emotion. 

“I guess so.”

“So…” she mulled it over. “In ten years, I’ll be fifty-two, and you’ll be…”

“Forty-eight,” he muttered. 

“And in fifteen years, you’ll be beating me by a year… fifty-eight when I’m fifty-seven…And so on and so forth,” she continued, doing the math in her head. 

“Yup.”

Silence rested between them for a moment.

“What’s it like?” Her question surprised him, and he tilted his head, resting his fork and knife on the edges of his plate as his hands loosely clasped them. 

“What?”

“Growing so quickly?” 

“I don’t know… Never known anything else. Honestly, I don’t think any of us really thought we would make it past the war. It was pointless to think that way. We’re… disposable.”

“Hunter,” she said softly, hand twitching toward his before pulling back. 

“No,” he said suddenly, setting down his eating utensils and slowly rising to his feet. A tornado of thoughts was tearing through his mind, and he was beginning to spiral along with it, utterly exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

“This?” Her voice quavered. 

He looked at her, wrought with conflict, insecurity, regret, frustration, then with a small shake of his head, turned for the front door, pausing as he twisted the handle, then continued out with slumped shoulders.

.

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[bunk-bed-blorbos]

1, 2, 6, 9, and 17 (Also don't worry about forgetting to turn on asks, I've had moments like that too ;) )

(lol thank you)

Fluff: 1. What are things they both find funny?

Hilariously wrong tabloids. Even better now that they're public figures, so sometimes they'll get a wildly incorrect article written about Them, and it's always a riot Zuke: So, Who am I cheating on you with this week? Mayday: Apparently, you were caught last night sneaking out of... Oh My God, Club Planetarium! Zuke, scandalized: No... Mayday: Zuke, how could you? Zuke: I'm sorry Mayday, you know how attracted I am to humility! Zuke & Mayday: ....Pffft, HAHAHAHA- They will also laugh at harmless, petty celebrity drama, dumb internet memes, and terrible, terrible puns

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

"Whenever Mayday needs to make a decision between what her brain and her heart are telling her, she will pick her heart every time, and she's usually right." "A lot of people think Zuke is dumb 'cause he's quiet, but he just spends a lot of time in his head, thinkin' about stuff like music, art... the people he cares about..."

6. What is/are their love language(s)?

Mayday is a very Physically Touchy person. If Zuke is in one place for too long she will lay across him. It doesn't matter if he's sitting down at his drums to practice, it's canoodling time. She reacts very strongly to Words of Affirmation (See the 1010 fight), and will frequently give Gifts to Zuke of anything that reminds her of him, and squeals like a schoolgirl whenever she receives a gift in turn Zuke not only picked up on Mayday's Words of Affirmation response, but he also has that love language, and puts a lot of thought into what he says (He may not be the talkative one of the duo, but he makes his words count). He values Quality Time, and wants to spend all of it with May. But most of all, his love comes through in Acts of Service.

Angst: 9. Have they made each other cry?

Ah yes, Mayday, known the city over for taking rejection well. I buy into the common headcanon that May has some form of ADHD, and I also sprinkle in that she experiences Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Because of this, she can feel a disproportionate amount of emotional pain if she feels like she's getting the cold shoulder from Zuke, which sucks because she knows that she's probably overreacting, which just makes her feel worse... As for Zuke, he's only ever cried because of May once... after the argument where she broke his sticks. Both of them agree that incident was the worst argument of their relationship, and both of them feel awful about it. May especially. She regretted it as soon as the structural integrity of the sticks failed. It was the first night since before they bunked their beds where they slept in separate rooms...

Depth: 17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

Zuke thinks of Mayday every time he sees a warm sunrise, vibrant flowers as pink as her eyes. He thinks of her whenever he smells or tastes sweet, tangy fruit and fresh cinnamon. He feels her in campfire and candle flames, in thick leather and the groove of old vinyls Mayday thinks of Zuke every time she sees the ocean, or a crystal clear stream. She smells him in delicate mints and earthy teas, and feels him running her hands through tall weeds or cool, running water. And of course, they hear each other. Whenever Zuke hears the hum of electricity, the crackle of a campfire, or the roar of a great predator, he hears her. Whenever Mayday hears the rain pelting against the city street, the thunder rolling through the sky, or the rumble of the City's districts moving, she hears him And finally, when the guitar reaches its climax.... when the drums kick in and make the song its own.... whenever they discover a new rock album, or listen back on what they've created.... They envision their partner, wielding their instrument with pride and passion, and themselves up on stage with them.

[whimsical-roasting]

Jamie comforts you after a long day (pt 1)

okay so this was meant to be entirely nsfw but tumblr has a character limit (tf??)... haven't written Jamie in SO long..

if it sucks - close ur eyes?? if it's good - tell me cause i have a praise kink <3

You come home after a long day following an already long week…hell, it’s been a long fucking year, hasn’t it?

Technically, this isn’t your home cause you’re on Jamie’s boujie couch, eyes closed and head resting against the back. Gotta admit shit’s comfy. You got in with your spare key and dumped your bags and stuff by the side of the couch

You just need a moment…just one fucking minute where your body and mind aren’t moving. You don’t even know where Jamie is, but he’s definitely somewhere in the house. You tell yourself that you’ll get up and look for him, just maybe after 2 minutes

You honestly don’t need to wait long because you hear the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. You call out a tired “Hey!” and keep your eyes closed... You don’t get a response, and honestly, for a few moments, you’re too tired to care, but just as you’re opening your eyes, Jamie’s in front of you

“Hey, love”, he murmurs with a small smile as he sits next to you, one leg under himself and body tilted to face you

His hand is stretched out to you, holding a glass: ice cold water. You get an involuntary smile, accepting the glass and instantly bringing it to your lips. That first crisp taste of liquid goodness genuinely makes you swear this shit must be medicinal.

Jamie’s index finger traces the wet stain made on your pants from the droplets of condensation that fell from the glass. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just observing your state. He’s come to know the different things you have on your plate - your work, academic shit, the schedule that never seems to be on your side, not giving you a bloody break. 

But with his training, matches, and social obligations, as well as your own workload and energy levels, there’s been little opportunity to deep dive into how you’re holding up 

“How’s stuff?” he ventures out, studying your face. Honestly, the way you inhale deeply, like your body is trying to gear up energy just to respond, makes him frown

You set the glass down on the coffee table and turn to face him. “Stress isn’t exactly what I’m feeling..” you start, trying to make sense of it yourself. Jamie’s fingers are tracing circles on the inside of your palm as he waits for you to continue

 “It’s like- like- ugh fuck me… it’s like I’m so busy and tired! Million fucking things to do and apparently I’m the only one who can do em… And god, I spend my entire time taking care of others and handling shit! I like it, and I’m good at it - don’t get me wrong, Jaim - but fucks sake.” You start ranting, heavier on the cuss words because what else is gonna convey the weight of everything?

Jamie opens his mouth to speak but closes it when you continue

“And my roommate’s a grumpy little sh- ugh, no, it’s not that bad. I mean, if you’ve dealt with Roy, then I can’t complain about em… I’m just not used to angry people all the time. It’s like fucking-” your eyes jump around the room, trying to put into words what it’s like “-eggshells! Walking on eggshells! But forget it, that’s not even a big deal… it’s just another thing,” you mumble with a huff.

Jamie doesn’t like how you’re so dismissive. He’d jump in and tell you that it does matter, and if your roommate is even an ounce like Roy, then that must feel like shit. It took Jamie a while to adjust to the way Roy’s anger was when he first joined Richmond, and that’s just the locker room. Fuck, imagine that type of energy in your living space. Jamie debated how he could beat that roommate up in a way that wouldn’t cause you problems, but his thoughts ceased fire when you admitted the final part of your frustrations

“AND, we haven’t had... Yknow…” Your initial awkwardness around the topic catches his attention, but a smirk makes its way onto his face once he realises what you’re referring to. 

“I’ve just been exhausted, and you’ve been busy…but god, I need some…some... Fuckin hell, I need sex. I miss our sex. You’re so fucking good at it too,” you grumble the last part quietly and Jamie just snickers

You glance at him, and that stupid smug smirk on his face makes you wanna kiss him stupid. Is this asshole really amused by your suffering? And why the fuck does he look so hot whilst being so??

“Babe.. just-” he debates saying ‘calm down’ but come on, even he’s not stupid enough to say that to a woman. Instead, he smiles softly and grabs your hands. Ducking his head, he kisses your knuckles, then your palm, and then your inner wrist before glancing up at you.

“You’re overworking yourself, and you know that, love,” he sighs and continues, “Just cause we both know you’re more than capable of it, dun mean it’s a good idea… maybe you’ve got too much on your plate, and the only thing you feel is exhausted.” 

“Also, babe, we’re gonna fuckin address the roommate shit, so don’t think you’re brushing that off,” he gives you a knowing look as you shrink a bit into the couch. 

Not liking the (loving) scrutiny of his eyes, you defensively push back, “So you’re just gonna ignore what I said about the sex thing?”

This causes Jamie’s eyes to light up, and that stupid smug smirk returns to his lips. “Nah, never said that. Just wanted to be a proper gentleman and address me girlfriend’s problems in order.”

You roll your eyes at him, but it’s clearly loving… when it comes to Jamie, all your looks are loving…mostly.

He grins at you, “Now, onto the real issue,” and you shoot him a deadpan, unamused look that causes him to bark out a laugh. 

“I’m joking!” he holds his hands up defensively.

He reaches over and brushes your hair behind your ear, looking you in the eyes. “You need to switch off that beautiful brain of yours. And you need somebody to take care of ya for once.” 

All you can do is blush and nod cause he makes a good point; you do need that, and more importantly, you crave it. 

(go to part 2)

[zahri-melitor]

New(ish) Comics 11 December 2024

Absolute Batman #2: I'm giving this the opening story, but it's remaining very much written Not For Me. Interested to see the Selina in it though, and apparently it looks like Jim Gordon and Martha Wayne are possibly dating?!?

Action Comics #1075: Mark Waid apparently just really wanted to retcon Jor-El out of one of his more poorly aged life choices. We finally see Lil Kara.

Kon and Kenan continue to bounce off each other amazingly (and Kon got to take the spotlight a bit here).

And over in Kara's story we checked back in with the rest of the family (Supertwins sighting!) and compounded the mystery further.

Batman and Robin #15: I'm liking this so far. And honestly we do need a retread of 'Damian, what do you want with your life outside the costume when you grow up', given the last go around. Looking to Thomas Wayne and the fact he was a healer/doctor for a bit rather than Beach Hermit Ra's feels...more in character, to me.

Black Lightning #1: Look, I'm not 100% current on what has been happening to the Pierces recently (outside of BatO), but this feels like it's retrofitting more pre-Flashpoint history for the characters in terms of extent of time spent as heroes onto their more recent stories. Jeff's definitely now back to having a proper history as a hero rather than the 5 minute long one he had in BatO 2019.

Anissa and Grace are apparently having problems? I guess that's justification somewhat for why Grace is in BOP right now and Anissa is in New Orleans for some reason.

Batman Uncovered #1: Look I flicked through this and I realised I didn't particularly like a lot of the variant covers. Lot of overly busy stuff.

Batman/Santa Claus: Silent Knight Returns #3: this only matters to like 3 people, but they all follow me so: so in the Silent Knight universe, Santa's wife is some sort of wood elf named Ulah.

Last week in the Christmas anthology, Santa's wife was a Blue Lantern who looks like the stereotypical chubby cookie baking woman, named Carol.

Can. Can we have some consistency please.

(Also John Stewart definitely met Santa this week, I saw him do it).

In other news, huzzah, we have Etrigan; Mary Bromfield was on a date? really? with whom?; and part of me wants someone to dig out Nimue for this story and the rest of me is just fine with Madame Xanadu staying far away from its dubious characteristics.

Also Damian says he'll have to tell Irey about her father, and I was squinting going: have you two ever actually been on the same team? Or properly introduced in this universe? Because Irey was hanging out with you from a DIFFERENT UNIVERSE over in Flash. Why is it up to you, Damian? Why not literally any actual Justice League adult. I realise you're feeling responsible but this one is not on you and there's no reason for it to be.

The Warlord #76: This week in Skartaris, in equal opportunity violence, Tara punches Travis for knocking her unconscious last issue to get her out of Shamballah during the invasion. Tara then organises the Shamballan refugee retreat, because she's more useful than Travis about things that aren't violence.

The retreat gets attacked by more New Atlantis troops because they've got a shapeshifting witch (into a black bird) who's been spying on them.

New Atlantis has been busy subjugating parts of Skartaris and King Ashir of Kaambuka has also been captured (he's the pirate guy who joins up with the group every now and then).

Not much else happens - a lot of planning about how to retake Shamballah and overthrough the New Atlantis invaders.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I've not posted here much in the last couple of weeks, for a number of reasons. The main one being that my grandfather's in the hospital and I've been busy with trying to visit him frequently and support my family (he's now back in the care home and alive, but also his ability to be coherent and aware of his surroundings has taken a major hit that it looks like will probably be permanent, and that ability had already been significantly eroded by Alzheimer's so he didn't have a lot of it to lose, but he's still here and that's what matters, sorry to include this very bleak information in a fun post but it seemed weirder to not specify the outcome as that would imply he's dying, which he's not at the moment, so that's good, but it's been a rough couple of weeks for everyone involved), but also I've become a touch fixated on trying to get my comedy folder absolutely perfect, now that I have my new 14TB hard drive. I've brought over lots of stuff from other hard drives, I've re-downloaded comedy that I watched in the last few years but never saved because I didn't have space at the time, I've added new folders and re-organized old ones. I've realized there are a few people who definitely should have had folders but didn't, it's more organized now. Also, it turns out that Demetri Martin's name was misspelled in his folder name for the entire ~3-ish years that my comedy folder has existed in its current form, so I've fixed that. Things like that. I've also spent the last week running my laptop constantly to back up this folder of about 4TB, which my laptop has been struggling through valiantly and is now, apparently, 84% done. It really does take a long time.

So for the last two weeks, much of my free time has been spent on family stuff, and any free time I have at home, I've been obsessively reorganizing hard drive files rather than doing things like writing posts. I have a list in a Word doc of comedy things that I've got into lately and want to write about, but every time I have the chance to do so, I instead do something like make sure the 2005 recording of the Brixton gig where Kitson compered for Simon Munnery and Demetri Marin is copied into both the Munnery and Martin folder as well as the Kitson folder (the specific example being what I did this morning and how I caught the spelling mistake in the folder name for "Demitri Martin").

Anyway. The only other thing I've been doing with my time is attending local comedy nights, and a couple of weeks ago I closed a show for the first time (it was just a free pub comedy night so they don't do, like, headliners or anything - but they also won't put someone last unless they're pretty sure that person will end the night on a strong note, so that was a sign that the guys who run that night like me, which is cool because I like them), and I was excited about it, so fuck it, do people want to hear my six-minute set? Or at least, most of it. I cut out about 20 seconds at the beginning of me starting really awkwardly and getting no crowd response. Because it's my audio file and I can do what I like with it.

I've realized while listening back that there's more than I realized of references that probably only make sense to Canadians, preferably anyone who lived in Canada in the year 2000, when our former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau died and they had a huge state funeral and massive national mourning and my fifth-grade class did a big project on him, and there were famous images of his two teenage sons crying over his coffins, and one of those sons was named Justin and he grew up to be another Prime Minister, and he sucks. You mainly have to know that. Also he got divorced last year.

I also realized on a re-listen just how much I stumble on my words and say "um" and "uh", which I'd been trying to work on cutting down, and apparently I have to try much harder. Anyway it's fine.

[qoldenskies]

Hey me again *frothing at the mouth* What Are You Doing To Me

Also I had a question this time but feel free to ignore or leave it if it'd be spoilers or something. In clipped wings will they find out and get revenge on the (presumably witch yokai) who placed the curse? I know you said the focus of this segment would be the recovery but I am nothing if not a sucker for some good ol revenge :3

It was so fun to know that the other yokai in the bathroom would be important from the very start but not fully why; to then finally make the connection with April that it was probably a witch from witchtown???? *chefs kiss* good stuff right there I say I do say. I honestly never got around to watching the entirety of the show (too much second hand embarrassment) and Donnie vs Witchtown was one of those episodes I skipped, so now I'm wondering if this is a previously introduced character or someone brought in solely for the sake of the plot. And who knows this may not be relevant to the fic whatsoever but I'm curious and rabid with feelings *bats eyelashes at you cutely*

And if there is revenge I'm so excited because Leo clearly meant that he would kill whoever did it but also he was delirious with grief and also actually killing someone would be so disastrous. Sure the three may feel better about it but I can't help but feel it would truly prove to Donnie that they have full capability to actually kill him. They didn't before but they still have that power of course it would only take a few slip ups before he's out of luck. Would he feel any relief in knowing that the one behind all of his pain was gone forever and no longer able to harm him? No because its so so deeply ingrained in him that it's all his fault and now he's gone and gotten someone Killed over him. Ihxogsgkslhdlhxigdykxgkc

Sorry I lost myself a bit there. Anywho I'm still feral about all of this and I don't think I will be able to function properly for a very long time and I am so sorry I'm apparently incapable of being normal about this. Thanks again! :D

HIIIIII //WAVES EXCITEDLY

i saw your last ask yesterday and i could have SWORN i responded but then i saw it in my ask box and was like SHIT.......... and then i came back and there was another so NO MATTER!!! I WILL RESPOND TO THIS ONE (and get to the ao3 comments in the morning because i get so easily overwhelmed by them even though they are my lifeblood LMAO)

secondhand embarrassment is quite a valid reason to skip around episodes, although if you want to know what happens in the ones you skimmed over the rottmnt wiki has transcripts which i tend to use when going back for information for fics! and the witch isn't a pre-established character, no worries!!! (i somewhat considered bringing back mira and gentry, but as it is right now i dont think they'll be appearing at all) i could have just used an oc but ive decided to LOOSELY adapt idw kitsune and not really worry about how adherent she is to her original characterization; i just know she does some brainwashing in the idw comics, so she was the best to snatch! also foxes are cool

AND THERE WILL BE REVENGE! some stipulations have to be met first so i cant really reveal the circumstances without going too deeply into spoiler territory, but they have an extremely pressing issue they don't even know about yet, so they'll be distracted with that before they can do anything along those lines (and the way they fix it will even play into the revenge!). i should probably warn, though, that the witch in the bathroom was not actually the one who did the curse, but she WAS still responsible,,,, let's just say the magic that was used for it is not typical of regular, mortal witches. ;)

and as for the way donnie will respond, i cant say much about it yet!! things are going to be very different by the time we get to that point heehee

[zero-is-nebulous]

Okay I can't take it anymore

Here's an in depth analysis on Sonic and Knuckles, their relationship to the other, and the sun and moon design trope

Sonic

Sonic is, at his core, a free spirit. He is constantly looking for adventure, and jumping into action whenever he is needed. This often puts him into opposition against various bad guys, because the more he defeats them, the more that pop up and want to have a go at the impossible challange.

And like, take over the world, I guess. Typical villain stuff

It's also important to note that, in cannon, sonic is 15 years old. Being a hero at such a young age, I mean, wow that's gotta be some responsibility. Originally, speaking from origins, Sonic just started out using his speed to help little animals get out of traps. Then, just a kid, he encounters eggman and finds out he's behind such a terrible thing. He doesn't know what to do, obviously, because he's a literal child, but knows he can't let his animal friends be hurt like this.

He also knows that he's not like the other mobians, he's faster, more resilient, and that makes him the perfect candidate for the job. He takes down eggman's bigger bots, rescues flickies, and everything is good!

Until eggman retaliates. Because obviously the evil bad guy can't let anyone foil his plans! Anyway, this is a rough timeline of events as to how Sonic most probably got stuck being the hero. He helped some animals, and the threat got bigger, but he stuck with it because he realised he COULD do some good with his powers. Then the threats escalated, and now the entire world depends on him.

(Also, it's worth noting here that Sonic has the 'live in the moment' mentality. Obviously he does heroism because he CARES, like a lot, and he wants OTHER people to be able to enjoy their own 'live in the moment' mentalities because he's an optimist and wants the best for people. Obviously that's also one of the driving forces of his heroism, he's a surprisingly complex character ok it's hard to put it all into words all at once. But this also means that he tries to have fun with it, he DOES enjoy his adventures. Hes clearly a bit of a thrill seeker, he makes the most of a bad situation no matter how dire it is because not only is that a coping mechanism, but one of his personal life mottos. I also personally beleive that he knows how dangerous his line of work is, and that if he DOESNT live life to the most while he has it, he'll regret it in the event that he doesnt make it back one day)

Anyway

Along the way, he's stopped worrying about himself, because he's developed a hero complex. All the pressure put on his character makes him disregard his own safety for others, always making HUGE personal sacrifices for the 'greater good', and pushing his pain aside just so he can help. Sonic is still a child, and he's grown up around violence and heroism and now he has a duty to protect people. Because he can.

Because he's the ONLY one who can

People say so on multiple occasions. When it's, not entirely true? I mean, don't get me wrong, Sonic is a force to be reckoned with, and at some point that statement may have even been true! But its just,,,not, anymore??

When shadow first arrived he was established to have speed that matches sonics, at least to some extent, and a steely moral compass as a result of his past with Maria. He joins GUN in an attempt to make good on his promise (and probably some other government stuff, I mean being an experiment from 50 years ago gets you tangled up in some shit), and he can TELEPORT, as well as hone chaos energy in ways that Sonic can't even manage.

Well, we've never seen him manage, at least.

Here's a quick list of all of Shadows abilities:

Super speed

Immortality

Increased stamina

Spindash

Ability to use firearms

Chaos control (teleportation)

Chaos control (ability to slow or stop time, apparently?)

Chaos spear

Chaos blast

Increased healing factor

Super form

Now, here's a lost of Sonics abilities:

Super speed

Increased acrobatics and agility

Resilience to damage

Strong sense of spirit

Increased stamina

Spindash

Hand to hand combat skills

Chaos control (+1 emerald)

Super form

Both hedgehogs have an impressive arsenal of abilities under their belt, for sure. But even with Sonics collection of skills, some of them are just that. Skills

For Shadow, Chaos energy runs through his veins so extremely that he needs to wear POWER CANCELLING cuffs. He was designed, built, for such power. Take note of how Sonics list includes more generalised and LEARNABLE skills, while Shadows includes more actual 'powers', so to speak

So. Is sonic the ONLY one capable of saving the world? NO! in fact, Shadow has helped do just that on multiple occasions. I'm not saying one is more powerful than the other, or better suited to the role, but Sonic is under the impression that he's alone in this when he's not

Shadow may not have sonics optimism, or social superiority, but he's a GOOD hedgehog, and they both possess amazing abilities that they choose to use for good. Sonics often telling people that they don't have to fight alone, but often takes the leap and does JUST THAT When he deems a situation too dangerous for anyone to risk their lives for

Once, he was the only mobian with powers strong enough to face great evils. Even with the help of Tails and Amy, they were both still kids, younger than himself, who were normal all things considered. Yes, Tails could fly, and yes, Amy could haul a hammer twice her size, but they were still not as strong as him. So, they couldn't be risked. Underneath it all, despite their help, he was always stronger, always the most fit for life threatening missions, and he would take it all in stride

And then there was Knuckles, and then Shadow, and then Silver and Blaze somewhere down the line. All superpowered beings to some extent, having chaos energy (or sol energy) running through them at such a rate that they could ACTUALLY compare to Sonic.

Once, he was the ONLY person strong enough to take on the threats alone. But now? There are others, strong and diffrent like him, who could equally take on the fight with or without his help.

And yes, as they grow and get stronger, the threats DO tend to get more dangerous, but that's why they're all there together. Obviously the threat level will increase, and they will always find away to defeat it per the age rating on the game being allowable for the delicate emotions of optimistic children (and me) that our hero's can concour ANYTHING. But still, they have so many allies that that almost doesn't matter

My point being; he does not need to take on all this pressure by himself.

A lot of the time, at least with major threats such as the metal virus or neo metal sonic (shout out to IDW comics for consuming my brain and producing the most gut wrenching storyline to ever exist in the sonic universe) he's almost FORCED to accept help? I'm not saying he wouldn't have already, but he had a bit of a tendancy to be like 'hey, I got this' *finger guns* when he does not in fact got this. And sure maybe he does eventyally and all that, but you have to admit a LOT of the threats he takes on are like ridiculous to the point you have to brace yourself when he goes into battle. Likes we know sonic is strong but Jesus, that little man takes on some POWERFUL enemies

(Quick case and point: metal virus, being captured on the death egg in forces, being KILLED BY MEPHILES!!! Clearly he isn't indestructible, sometimes he bites off more than he can chew alone)

Ok back on topic now.

The MAIN reason why people look to him as 'the only one who can help them' is because of reputation and carisma. You know why Shadow was disposed of so quickly during the metal virus arc? Because he would have been a GREAT help, and the two of them working together would have toppled the virus MUCH quicker

(And bc they reversed his goddamn character arc AGAIN bc nobody can get it right apparently)

Anyway, because Sonic has gone his entire life with his mentality, people have looked up to him on some kind of pedestal. This just deepens the cycle of it all, making him hold himself accountable, or bare too much burden, and the confident facade is just the icing on the cake.

Because people look up to him, as a hero, a role model, and as a GOOD, and FRIENDLY person. They see him, caring and kind and never giving up, and rely on him. In contrast, Shadow keeps to a distance and is mostly cold to civilians, with the exception of Cream and possibly Vanilla and the Chaotix (Although wether the chaotix should be considered civilians is up for debate). This means that less people call to HIM, when they're in danger. He's under less pressure, people don't put him under a spotlight, but they DO with sonic

And now, whether he wants it or not, he is THE hero

Admittedly, I think Sonic does enjoy being a hero

To an extent, he sort of has to be. He's kind and caring cause that's who he is. He runs because he wants to, and he saves people because he wants to as well. Obviously there's pressure there, but he got into it in the first place because he wanted to do good. And doing a good thing makes him...Happy. content. Proud, even

Hes free like the wind, is what they say, and he IS. He doesn't WANT to quit being a hero, but I'd imagine sometimes he thinks about it. It's a stressful life, every eye on you when something goes wrong, waiting for you to fix it. And sometimes he doesn't have the answers, and that's okay

But some people won't see it that way, see him as a failure. And that's the true bitterness of being worshipped

So yes, while he's sort of trapped in his role, I wouldn't say he wanted to let go of it anyway. He knows someone has to do it, which is a daunting feeling because he also knows that person has to be HIM- but, he enjoys saving people, so it's not all bad

Knuckles

Knuckles the echidna, the last of his tribe, stuck on a floating island in complete isolation.

Well, there's a lot to say about him, I'll admit. So, let's just start small

First of all, Knuckles' isolation has left him slightly naive, which was the original reason that he fell for eggmans lies. This is, of course, because he's been alone for SO long, that he hadn't a clue as to the social clues of a lie. That, and his ONE presumed purpose in life was to look after the master emerald, in which he would do anything to protect

So, a mixture of passion, protectiveness, rage, and naivety, were what lead to the events of Sonic 3 and Knuckles.

The absolute isolation and lack of alterior purpose leave knuckles struggling a lot. He has other ambitions and goals, obviously, he LOVES exploring, and he can read many ancient dialecs which come from his architect passion. The one thing keeping him confined to his island is the emerald

And the implications that follow. See, he's the last of his kind. And, because of that, he has NOBODY who can understand the EXACT and finite details of his situation on an emotional level. He can ask nobody for guidance, instead fumbling blindly under the belief that 'this is what they would have wanted', without actually being able to ASK

Knuckles protects the master emerald because he thinks it's what he's supposed to do. And, It is obviously, but he's so focused on not disappointing his fallen tribe that he disregards his own wellbeing a lot for it

He stays at the shrine 24/7, only leaving when the fate of, quite literally, the ENTIRE WORLD is at stake. He's on his island, alone. Speaking realistically, no one person should be assigned that task. Within the tribe before their passing, many would have protected the emerald, and in healthy shifts

Except, Knuckles doesn't have that choice. So he's cemented to his fate, but he does WANT to do other things. In fact, his time on the island has probably INCREASED the hunger for exploration and adventure

So, let's think forces for a second.

Knuckles was the captain of almost an entire ARMY, he lead them, and took on the pressure of responsibility, and that's something quite interesting. See, you'd assume that his time on the island would null his skills with others in that regard, but he has a striking skill when it comes to organisational battle plans.

Hes the same in the metal virus arc

Knuckles is often taking up big, important positions despite his initial lack of social grace. And, deep down, I think this is connected to his tribe.

See, he has this task that he's been confined to, with no guidance at all. He thrives off of the assumption of his tribe, and does his job with steely focus. When he takes up that position as a leader, he takes up the responsibility that weighs similarly to the responsibility of taking care of the master emerald

(Here, he's also able to give OTHER people the guidance he so needed in his times of struggle. By being that someone that can be trusted, and looked to for answers, I feel like it almost quenches some of his deep rooted abandonment issues)

In both scenarios, people are expecting him to protect something, and lead. Be strong, responsible, and altogether a beacon of hope. The key difference is that, this time, he has reassurance. He can see his efforts paying off, he can see his plans play live infront of his eyes, and he saves people. Directly, not just through avoidance, but ACTIVELY protects people

But it's a lot

Even for Knuckles, it's a LOT. because when you're guarding something with expectations of people who aren't there, there's no disappointment. There's only assumedly so, (which im pretty sure hes prone to exagerating because he holds his old tribe up on the same sort of pedistal that most hold sonic. In the sort of heavenly devinity that makes the 'they can do no wrong' thing really prominant, but also he knows about traditions and rules and probaly assumes that they would be SUPER strict, so he holds himself in extremely high expectation as if to please a god) and there isn't death. There isn't pressure that grows as tides change, as people leave and get presumed dead, as lives under his watch aren't at risk. War is an ever changing responsibility, where REAL lives that you can actually comprehend because they're right in front of you, are at stake

I imagine he originally took up the role because watching the master emerald is similar. He protects mobian and human lives alike by doing so, if he watches the emerald and stops it from being stolen, he protects people. And if he watches over this army of people and steers them in the right way, he protects people

Also, it's clear from frontiers that Knuckles is actually really interested in strategy and ancient combat and the like. So it's also possible it's a part of his architect and exploratory interest in diffrent historical events peeking through

When Sonic was taken to the death egg, people assumed he was dead. Sonic was, by all means, a beacon of hope. He provided determination, and gave everybody the idea that, eventually, they would get out of the tough spot

So, when he 'died', Knuckles was left with that job. He had to keep moral high, and hope imminent.

But he's not that good at it. He preaches glory, victory, an end to the war, but people lose hope anyway because Sonic is held in such high regard that people can't seem to beleive that he was bested. And if sonic was bested, then, well...what's the use in trying? NOBODY could match his skill, and he's dead now. So hope is gone and what's the point?

So, it's a tough spot for him. He's lost a friend, everybody is depressed, he doesn't know the first thing about sonics impression of hope, and he's stuck playing leader to a war he himself is giving up on

Don't get him wrong, he wants to WIN. wants to avenge those who killed his friend, and face glory and peace once again. But he just...can't. The pressure is piling up, and while he gradually builds up others confidence, he sees EVERYTHING. He sees the lies put in place of hope, and he doesn't know what to do

Sonic was the one who introduced him to the concept of anything and everything outside of his island, taught him hope and friendship, and now he's dead.

Anyway, while knuckles is a good leader, he's not mentally adjusted for all of its tribulations. As is common for leaders during GENUINE warfare, but I digress

Knuckles and Sonic are simular in the way that they both take on so much pressure. They both have tasks that they 'NEED to do' because they're the ONLY ones fit for the task. In knuckles' case it's much more literal, but LIKE sonics case, it just isn't like that anymore

Having friends now makes looking after the emerald easier than ever. He may not have his tribe, but he's sort of...built a new one, out of the friends he's made. He doesn't have to be there ALONE. People would help, hell, they could take a note out of Sonic underground's book and hand Knuckles a bunch of island defense systems. We all know tails would be more than up for the job

Still, he takes on this responsibility because he assumes its expected of him. And, maybe it WAS

But he's his own person, and he deserves his own life. He has a connection with chaos energy that makes him perfect as the protector, but thats not all he is. And he knows it.

Also, I want to bring back the hidden magic cave for the master emerald to live in. It would be so much harder to steal if it wasn't just sitting at an open air alter on the top of a floating island like a BEACON. Sonic 3 and Knuckles had that hiding spot on POINT, imagine how much safer the emerald would be, and how much more FREEDOM knuckles would have, if tails just upgraded that bad boy a little bit

It's a fixable problem, guys. I know sega wants to have an open plot point at ALL times, so they make the master emerald easier to steal, but Jesus man, you gotta give my guy a break. Why introduce an entire hidden space, perfect for the containment and protection of the master emerald, and then NOT put it there??? DUDE

(That's also probably another reason for the game not being considered cannon. Ik another reason is hyper sonic, obviously, but both concepts kick ass and I want them back. Petition to make sonic 3 and knuckles cannon)

Sonic and Knuckles

Okay, I know I touched up on their relationship a bit in the Knuckles' rundown, but there's a lot more to say. Also, I'm aware that the Knuckles section was disappointingly short, his character has a LOT going on, but there's not a lot to actually say since a lot of it is pretty obvious. Most of Knuckles' interesting attributes actually come out when prompted by others, due to his isolation, which is where Sonic comes in

Sonic and Tails were the second people he met in his LIFE. and he has a good relationship with Tails that I may talk on at a later date, but his relationship with Sonic is genuinely really interesting

See, Sonic was a literall PROPHECY. He was engraved into the rocks on the island, and he was most likely studied and theorised about in his time on the island.

For knuckles, with nothing to do but wait, I have no doubt that he read those texts RELENTLESSLY. so he knows of this hedgehog, prophecised to protect the world from threat, and then he meets a hedgehog. Obviously he's been tricked, but the dots don't connect until they're on the same side, because he's so disconnected from things outside his island, that he can't actually comprehend at first that THIS, right here, infront of his very eyes, is an actual PROPHECY. I bet he wasn't expecting to live at the same time as him, maybe he assumed it'd already happened, or would soon happen long after his own life. Its just not every day you befriend a prophecy okay, I Don't blame the poor guy

(Also, sidebar. How does he know how to read? To talk??? Ik echidna come from eggs so him being born there, fine, I can accept. But HOW is he possibly able to comprehend writings not only in ancient texts, but the more modern language as well??? Was it the master emerald? Does it talk to him? Did it TEACH knuckles how to fucking read? Talk??)

And in a way, that gives Knuckles a link back to his tribe. And that link, of all things, is SONIC

Because somehow, his tribe has prophecised his existence, and the good he'd bring with him. They had deemed this mobian so important that they carved his image into rock. Surely, he must have been a common topic

Would they be proud of knuckles for being the one to greet him? Or would they shrivel up in disappointment at their first interactions?

Sonic and Knuckles have an interesting character dynamic, because they're both simular, while also being drastically opposite from one another

They both uphold ridiculous responsibility. Sonic is the protector of the people, there to fight off any threats and keep them safe. Knuckles is the protector of the master emerald, a more behind the scenes method of protection, as if it was left in the wrong hands, people would surely die. More than that, they're both hero's to the public

They also both adore adventure and exploration

Knuckles is a solitary creature, moreso by habit than by introvertedness, and his passions in traveling are often squandered by his job

Sonic is an outgoing creature, always social and optimistic. This is partially his extrovertedness, and partially his general likeness. While I wouldn't say sonic is an introvert either, maybe saying he's an extrovert Is also not necessarily true. In sonic x especially, he's shown to very much enjoy his time alone, although fluctuates that mantra when in the company of those he trusts

Anyway, Sonic is free flowing, able to do whatever he wants really. And knuckles is the opposite. While they both strive for simular things, their actual actions are very diffrent

Sonic is also optimistic, outgoing, energetic, and generally quite relaxed. Knuckles on the other hand, is reclusive, cold, calculating and fierce. He often refuses to 'relax', taking his position as guardian VERY seriously

Their personalities mesh surprisingly well, considering all of this

When Knuckles was introduced to society via flying fox and prophecy 'god', that cemented the end of an era for him. Obviously he knew there was things outside of his island, but things like technology, and all the things that existed outside that he'd never even heard of, often turns a guys perspective upside down.

So Sonic and Tails introduced society, and friendship. Sonic is stubborn, not one to give up on things he's pursuing, and his friendship with Knuckles is no different. Because Knuckles is so used to isolation, he struggles to accept the drastic change that his life Is undergoing, and part of that change is the inclusion of people

So he acts cold on purpose a lot to deter people, as a protection for himself, and the master emerald. Cause, if someone gets close to him, he may let his guard down and then the emerald would be at risk. He's afraid of forming any type of relationships at first because he's never had to forge one before, and he doesn't know how to feel about it all

Luckily for him, Sonic is stubborn. He sees someone lonely, and able to kick his ass, and thinks 'yeah, we are actually going to be best friends I think'

Anyway because of Sonics stubbornness, and consistency, Knuckles and him are friends. I imagine that Sonic visits him, as well as their other friends, but Sonic specifically doesn't seem the type to just LET knuckles be alone on an island

Plus the tornado IS his plane, he could fly it up if he really wanted to

Anyway throughout the years, Knuckles and Sonic have a healthy respect for one another. They were rivals once, and then friends, but they aren't afraid to challange eachother because they're truly equals

So Sonic and Knuckles are friends. Cool, great. HOW does this relate to the sun and moon dynamic further than their original opposites?

I'm so glad you asked!

Sun and moon

So for some context, for those of you who are unaware, Sonic and knuckles designs are representing the Sun and moon by CANNON DESIGN CHOICES. Sonics tummy fur is meant to represent the sun, and obviously, Knuckles sidewards crescent moon is meant to represent, well, the MOON

The way that the sun and moon dynamic works is like this:

"a merging of opposites , unity and cooperation instead of conflicts, and rebirth"

Thanks Pinterest matching tattoo post!

Anyway, at the start, Knuckles and Sonic are at odds. They're complete opposites at a first glance. And then they're given the chance to be better, be friends, and suddenly their dynamic is just the best thing in the world ever oh god its SO PURE AND SLAY?!?!

The moons characteristics are as follows

Constant

Steady

Reliable

Straightforward / blunt

Compassionate

The sun's characteristics are as follows

Impulsive

Energetic

Strong willed

Intense

THESE ARE THEIR TRAITS!!!

Knuckles is often the one to have a level head. Yes he is shown to have bursts of anger, or lapses in judgement, but it's driven by his passion (And his emotional stunted upbringing). People often turn to him in times of need within their friendship group because he's well known to be wise, at least about chaos energy (which is most often what they need to know about anyway, hoorah for world centric magic types). He's blunt because of his lack of social awareness mostly. And while he's getting better, he's still pretty straightforward. He doesn't seem to care about sugar coating things for people, with the more 'this is how it is, undiluted, face the world and its problems' vibe

And Sonic. He's impulsive because he wants to live while he still can, he's energetic because speed literally RUNS THROUGH HIS VEINS like a vice, unstoppable and unrealistic. He's strong willed and determined, never backing down, STUBBORN in a way that Knuckles can almost match. Knuckles has been proven to share that drive, its one of their common grounds, but he also knows when to quit. That's their separation, because Sonic doesn't take no for an answer when lives are at stake. He's intense, all encompassing. His presence is almost distracting. Not only because of his social status but just because of his general vibe, sunny and bold

I like to bring actual science into this because it makes the metaphor even better IMO, so let me set the scene

Knuckles is the moon, because he is distant. He likes to keep to himself, and he is steadfast. He is strong, steady, and confident. He has an important purpose that he takes very seriously, and has lived his life in gentle solitude in tune with the nature away from him. He has spent a lot of his life floating, separated from people and their kinship

Enter: Sonic T. Hedgehog. He's intense in a way that is so noticeable that knuckles CANNOT ignore. Its a passion that he respects, and eventually, he finds himself closer than ever to him. You'd think being so close to the sun would get you burned, and it's maybe that apprehension that keeps him at a steady distance even still. Even when his light seems to bring out all of the best parts of him

Just like the moon only lights up the night sky because of the suns grace, Knuckles is only able to let himself flourish because Sonic had brought all of the best parts about him to light. It's cheesy, sure, but it's something he cherishes because he feels more like himself than he ever has in his solitude

There's still this fear, at arms length, because Sonic is so good. If he's a sun he is worshipped. He is looked up to and loved, people bathe in his light and leave gifts at his alter. He is so far away, it's insane

But maybe he doesn't notice, that people worship the moon too. And the sun is the biggest supporter. He shines so that people appreciate him, see all that he does. And people regard them together, because its the sun and the moon. They both float so far away from everyone else, only close enough to eachother by sheer magnitude. They're imposing and intense, and nobody else can even get close. And no matter how many people worship the sun, there is only one who may get close enough to FEEL his heat

And that is the moon

[fluxedbuds]

apparently y'all Are desperate enough for my Lomadia Oc so uh. hope you're in the mood for [checks notes] ~13 paragraphs, half of which is just description!

allow me to introduce Villom!

She doesn't have an actual name or in-universe nickname, I just call her Villom. Because she was originally a Villain Version of Lomadia from a sci-fi world for some comic idea I totally scrapped bc it sucked. Except for Villom!

So basically what if we put Lomadia in space and gave her every problem and no normal coping mechanisms

The base universe is Completely Impossible sci-fi space stuff, involving solar systems being relatively close together and having tons of habitable planets, with star trek 'convergent evolution' making everybody a Weird Human Basically. Part of these choices is that I. Don't actually like sci-fi lol. I don't think its bad I just can't Get Into It, so I did the lazy version. HOWEVER I do also use the fact that its extremely artificial and story-focused as part of the plot so its FINE There IS also magic, but it’s generally less used, as tech is more accessible and less complicated from a user standpoint. That doesn’t mean it isn’t powerful, if you know what to look for. Thats foreshadowing!

Compared to base Lomadia, Villom is.. very immature. She has trouble identifying and controlling emotions, she's quick to anger and holds grudges. She's also more impulsive and tends towards insults and crude jokes. She's actually pretty fun to hang out with as a result, but responsibility is a role she's crushed into, and it never truly fits. She's trying her best ok

Villom starts out her story as a young adult, training to be a pilot. She does some hero shit, but breaks so many rules in the process and gets kicked out. She’s enraged by this betrayal of what was supposed to be her life, and steals a ship to go rogue and try to pursue her dreams anyways. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s doing, though, and eventually a chase causes her to crash on an unfamiliar planet, where she meets Rythian. He’s steampunk now, don’t question it

Anyways, they end up teaming up, and form the first of her crew. Later additions are Martyn, who is a mouse guy who has So Fucking Many People Who Want Him Dead, and Zoeya! Who ended up separated from Fionn following partially the plot of Mushbury, and works as the ship’s engineer. Their ship (that lasts long enough to get a name…) is called the Ask, and Villom occasionally (and jokingly) calls her crew the Answers. (Its called the Ask because originally I gave the characters nicknames based on Norse mythology for Pretentious Reasons, those might come back later)

So everything’s all fine and poggers for a while, with the Ask’s crew causing mischief and undercutting evil empires across the worlds- and then Villom’s home planet is destroyed. And she sees it happen.

See, one of the tropes of sci-fi that bugs me, is how understated the death of an entire planet tends to go. This is the first step of Villom realizing how truly fucked up the world they live in is- and the first step of her wondering why it has to be this way, and how to stop it.

It only gets worse from here.

No matter how many evil empires they topple, no matter how many massive threats they thwart, there’s always another one. And no matter how fast they are, they can’t stop every world-ending crisis. Villom starts learning magic, wondering if theres some kind of solution there. When she doesn’t find one, she just looks harder. Brushing so close with forces she’s alone in experiencing wears on her, compounding with their futile mission.

The breaking point is when Rythian dies. Raiding an enemy ship goes wrong, they’re outnumbered, they’re trying to retreat. Surrenders are not accepted, there.

It’s another thing she sees happen, another thing she was inches away from but unable to stop. And she can’t take it. She can’t take losing another part of her, another of the few things she could call home in this cold void.

She takes some of the things she learned looking where she shouldn’t- and kills the nearest member of the enemy team, trading a life for a life. And part of her soul as tax, of course. Just a small bit, this time. She never tells him. Pretends it was instead an incredibly close call. He probably knows she’s lying, on some level, but he never says it.

Villom is desperate, now. There’s more and more things she’s hiding from her crew, more and more boundaries of safety she’s pushing. She trades one of her eyes for the ability to see the functions of the world itself- maybe it’s a mistake, there’s some gear stuck, and if she fixes it this infinite loop of wars will stop.

There is no mistake. This is how the universe is intended to function.

She can’t give up. Because if she stops, she’s never going to get up again.

Maybe there’s other worlds where it’s better, where it’s safe. Maybe there’s a way to make this world like them.

Maybe there’s a way to leave.

She’s barely human anymore, even though she looks perfectly fine. Her hair is white, her eye replaced, but that’s all. She’s replaced the things she’s traded away. She’s barely even a part of the world, anymore. Unstuck from the threads of it, floating as a constant point, unchanging and undying, snapping back into place when moved.

A lot of universes are visited by a strange woman with white hair, who never stays. Sometimes she’s a savior, or a tyrant, or merely another passerby.

One of them, somewhere, has to have an answer. The way to break the cycle. And Villom will find it- even if she has to take every one of them apart.

[andarthas-web]

Wakanda Forever? More like Wakanda WTF!

I finally managed to watch Wakanda Forever and....WTF WAS THAT???

Who thought it was a good idea to center the movie on two BIPOC communities, both of which are threatened by neo-colonial and capitalist western ambitions, going to war with each other, because one of them can’t come up with a better solution to the dilemma they’re facing than murdering a black woman? I mean....Namor is several hundreds of years old and apparently an experienced and good ruler. It’s pretty clear Riri didn’t even know what was going on and would never have willingly put Wakanda at risk (which makes it likely she wouldn’t have wanted to put Talocan and its’ people at risk either). Also, if Riri could invent something like this, sooner or later some other scientist will pop up who can do the same, because people who are gifted like that are rare...but by no means a one-time-only-in-all-of-human-existence. So no matter HOW she’s taken out of the picture, that’s only delaying the problem, not solving it. And FFS!!! If he wanted to keep her out of reach of western ambitions, keeping her in Talocan (if he didn’t trust Wakanda enough) would have been perfectly sufficient, no murder needed. Then there’s the bit about firing Okoye. WTF??? First of all, Shuri’s an adult and a princess responsible for her people, fully capable of making executive decisions on her own and EVERYBODY was aware that this was a risky mission beforehand. Hell, it wasn’t the first time Shuri did risky stuff in her life either. So yeah, punishing Okoye for not being all-powerful and not being able to pull an unrealistic Deus Ex Machina move to save Shuri, and especially considering that it is up to Shuri to decide for herself which risks and actions to take? Doesn’t make one lick of sense. It makes even LESS sense, considering that from all the people present, Okoye is the most qualified where it comes to getting Shuri back. And EVEN LESS SENSE that Ramonda’s anger comes from “having lost ALL of her family” when at the end of the movie, we learn that she has a grandson AND that she’s met him. Doesn’t he count at all for her? Btw, fridging characters in order to motivate others to grow and take action they wouldn’t have otherwise? A really tired old trope that robbed Ramonda of her dignity and power. Never mind that we already lost T’Challa in this movie and adding Ramonda on top of that was just adding insult to the injury. Then there’s this bit about “oh, I had the Kimoyo beads bugged” from Valentina Allegra de Fontaine? Please. Since when is western tech and knowledge even remotely on par with the tech of Wakanda / with the tech Shuri built? All within the few couple of minutes it took Ross to get to the scene to boot too. Without any kind of explanation on how the fuck they pulled this highly unrealistic feat off, this bit totally undermined the competence Shuri and Wakanda’s tech are supposed to have and it seems like an utterly unnecessary “ha ha, see, ultimately white people are better than you” gotcha moment.

Also, Namor is supposed to put his people first...but in the end, after sending a LOT of his people to die in the fight against Wakanda, he decides to just call everything off, after stressing how absolutely and utterly NON-negotiable murdering Riri was, just because Shuri decided to spare his life. Yeah, that’s hypocrisy of the highest order. Nevermind that somebody who witnessed / is well aware of the violence of white colonizers against BIPOC women and who is obviously still angry and upset about it, should NOT be willing to murder a black woman that easily and without second thought, let alone without a DAMN good reason and only after much, much soul-searching.  Also, what did it get him in the end?

NOTHING HE COULDN’T HAVE EASILY HAD WITHOUT GETTING TONS OF PEOPLE KILLED ON BOTH SIDES. Riri is still alive and free (and not even been kept safe and out of reach in Wakanda, like Shuri suggested at first, but returning to her life in the US, where she will be at a higher risk of being abducted / forcibly conscripted by other powers). (Side-note: is it just me, or did her suit seem very shoddily animated when compared to Tony’s?) And Wakanda is now an ally? HELL, considering how isolated they were becoming on an international stage, they’d have probably been perfectly delighted to consider an alliance well before he started this whole shit-show. Overall, the plot of this movie makes NO sense and violates a lot of the characters’ integrity six ways to sunday, having them act like immature, stupid teenagers instead of the experienced, competent people they’re supposed to be. Somebody (or a lot of somebodies) took lazy shortcuts here in order to drive a plot forward that was all focused on a maximum of flash and bang and Celebrity Big Brother style drama instead of telling a meaningful, consistent story. Among the few bright lights here were Okoye, with Danai Gurira pulling off a small miracle to give the character dignity and depth despite the godawful script, Shuri, whose struggle with the grief over her brother’s death and with trying to find a path forward for herself really hit home hard, as well as Riri, who was fun to watch as she rejoiced in the tech she had created, but who was also willing to take on responsibility and do the right thing. And finally Nakia, whose heartbreak was still palpable and yet it was incredibly admirable and inspiring how she worked through that, nevermind how she was absolutely badass as she came to rescue Shuri and Riri, as well as M’Baku, with Winston Duke adding either a light-hearted or a serious note to the scene as needed.  Sadly, overall, it’s not a movie I’m going to watch again and it was a huge disappointment.

[laf-outloud]

You don't have to post this if you don't want to but I just had some thoughts.

You know what kills me about this whole lawsuit issue? Jensen said after the show was done filming, after the finale aired, that he was proud of it with everyone involved and what they accomplished. Yet this injury obviously took place during filming and whatever his and Danneel's responsibilities as EP's might be in this scenario, whether they were present or not, you can't tell me they weren't told about the injury happening. Especially since their production company was involved. We know major studios like WB has insurance and of course there's workman's comp, but I can't imagine that a production company that puts in its own $ into said production wouldn't have something similar or at the very least be affected in some way. Meaning there is NO way he and Danneel didn't hear about this injury and the circumstances surrounding it.

And yet he still said he was proud of it, knowing this (even if he may not have known definitively that a lawsuit was coming at that time) had happened and how it happened. And that just...there's no words.

Sometimes I really wish I could just ask him "what are you doing, man?" Or even why he apparently feels the way he does about people working in shitty conditions like we saw with Rust and other stuff going on with The Winchesters, especially after encountering and experiencing some of these himself in his career. Like why was it so important for Led Zeppelin to be in the finale compared to hiring competent people who wouldn't put the cast and crew in jeopardy? Literally, for me, the past 2 and a half years, I just have so many questions for this guy, this being the latest round.

And this latest event definitely throws shade on Danneel proclaiming that she "protected" Meg on that Drama Queens podcast. I know it's not the same context but if she was supposedly paying that much close attention, there's no way she didn't know about the injury and it's circumstances, either.

Just shady all around. This honestly leaves me very disappointed in Jensen. Most people's experiences leave them with empathy. His appears to have done the opposite for him if this situation and his Rust remarks are anything to go by. The "little people" matter, too. And I really thought he had learned that through his career.

You make some really good points, so of course I'll post your ask!

I will say that regardless of some of the questionable hires and practices that the Ackles put into place, I'm sure there were still a lot of very hard-working people both in the cast and crew of TW. It's okay to be proud of the work they did. (Though, as a whole, there's very little to be proud of in the end result).

For as often as Jensen talks in cons about befriending the crew on SPN and other shows, his actions and words outside of cons prove he really doesn't think much of them. It makes it seem like he only befriends them to ensure that they make him look good, not because he actually cares.

As for what Danneel said on Drama Queens? I hadn't heard that, but I can imagine the only protection she offered Meg was from herself if Meg dared go after her man. We already know there wasn't any protection for Meg when she was forced to work while being incredibly sick.

[hateswifi]

Twice Fated: Chapter Four

Marinette has a tough time and Damian has emotions!?

Master List and Twice Fated: Master List

----------------

Unfortunately not long after that dinner Jagged’s tour moved on. Nonna decided to stay with Marinette and help get her more settled and just like the boys had proudly proclaimed she’s their sister now, meaning they helped her move in. They offered input for her penthouse (their advice wasn’t really used though), apparently an eye for fashion also somewhat translated over to interior design and not too long after Jagged left, Marinette was happy to call this penthouse a temporary home.

She turned one of the two guest rooms into a sewing room and decided to only dedicate a little corner of her room to baby stuff. She still has hopes to move back to Paris before the babies are actually welcomed to the world. She wants to be surrounded by familiar comforts like her family, scenery, friends, and memories.

Once everything was settled in her apartment and everyone who helped her were thoroughly fed, she bid everyone good night and was left alone in her new home. (It’s not actually home though, it’s big suffocating place trying to fill a hole it was never meant to fill)

She couldn’t stop the tears once they started. She slunk and let the tears rack her body “God damnit! I can’t believe I miss him! I wish I could go back to six months ago before I knew he was cheating or that I’m pregnant with his children. I wish I never left Paris. I wish Alya were here. I miss Mama, Papa. I wish Tikki was never taken from me,” she sobs into her knees. All her wishes could not be answered though, her sobs subside with her hope for comfort. She fully lays down and just stares at the ceiling and she wonders how she can change her future and separate herself and her kids from the past.

When she wakes up, it's to the aching of her back and to a ringing over the com, letting her know that someone wanted to enter. Marinette stumbles to her feet regretting her decision to sleep on the floor. She slumps her way into the main living area and presses the button to receive the call. “This is Marinette,” she greets with a cringe as she realizes how raspy her voice was.

“It’s Damian” comes the staticy response.

“Ok? What’s up?”

“Just let me up so we can speak” Marinette just sighs and buzzes him in. As he comes up the elevator Marinette heads back to her room to try and make herself have a semblance of togetherness. She takes out her pony tail and runs a brush through it before deciding that's all she has the time and motivation to do before Damian is at her door waiting to be let in.

When the knock rings around the area she inwardly groans before allowing him to enter. Damian stops in the doorway and gives her a side eye. “You look like shit” Damian comments.

“Wow, eloquently put. Private school really paid off, huh?” Marinette sighs, closing the door behind him.

“I wouldn’t say it if it weren't true,” Damian responds with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Are you going to deny how you currently look?”

“Doesn’t mean it’s nice to point it out,” she says quietly and quickly wipes away any forming tears with the heel of her hand. She looks up and gives a wobbly smile before waving off any potential worries Damian could have. “Sorry, sorry, its the pregnancy hormones.”

“I doubt that you’re an awful liar.” Damian says, putting a hand on her shoulder blade. He leads her to the couch and prompts her to sit. He grabs a blanket off the nearby chair before leaning over and tucking the blanket around her while saying “If something matters, I’m not the best at helping but you have people willing to help. So for now get comfy and think a bit less about what's bothering you.” Those niceties cause a new round of tears to spring to her eyes. Domain quirks an eyebrow at her before stepping away to the kitchen and out of sight of Marinette. She releases a wet laugh and clarifies “Don’t worry actually pregnancy hormones this time.”

Marinette just sits in silence, staring out the window until a mug enters her line of vision. “What is…?” she asks, inspecting the warm mug not occupying her grasp.

“Tea,” he supplies, taking a seat in the chair that had previously housed the blanket. “I may not be the best at emotional stuff, but Alfred made sure we all know how to make a good English cup of tea.” Marinette nods along with the sentiment while taking little sips. They sit in a comfortable silence bathed in the afternoon sun leaking in through the balcony’s windows. Once her tea is finished, she places the now empty mug on the coffee table. “Would you like me to contact one of my family members so you can have emotional support?” is the question that breaks the silence. She tears her gaze away from the cityline to where Damian is still sipping his tea.

“I’m fine like this,” Marinette hums, turning her gaze back to the cityline. She doesn’t feel the heaviness of her eyelids and the next thing she knows is she's waking up in her dark room and her comfy bed. She groans and stretches before rubbing the sleep from eyes. She looks around the room and decides to see if Damian had stayed.

She quietly scampers out of the room, not bothering to close the door before looking around the living area. Damian is sitting at the island in the kitchen. He’s half hunched over some papers. She gets within a couple of feet of him when their gaze meets. “Thank you for bringing me to bed.” Damian nods in acknowledgement. He takes a moment and studies her, allowing his gaze to falter on her face before continuing his inspection. He hums in approval and turns back to his papers.

“Please let me make you dinner as a thanks. Your family has probably already eaten. I’d feel bad making you go hungry,” Marinette continues. She rounds the island and opens the fridge, luckily her Nonna had stocked her fridge well due to her nutritional needs being more extensive since she’s pregnant with twins. “That’s not needed, I’m an adult I can feed myself,” Damain responds, not looking up from his work.

“I know you’re an adult, but I’d like to show my appreciation to you because you didn't have to come here, you didn't have to make me tea or bring me to my bed. You could’ve left after you put me in my room but you didn’t and that means a lot to me,” Marinette says now standing across from him, their eyes are once again locked. “Please let me show you my appreciation.” There’s a silence and the statement hangs in the air and for some reason it feels like this moment is important, like it holds a lot of weight.

“Ok, but let me help.”

The following week there’s typically someone hanging around her in some capacity and everyone is thankful that no one had seen Marinette in the state that Damian had disclosed begrudgingly after too much badgering since he had to miss patrol to stay with her. Luckily, that little revelation led to everyone surrounding Marinette fully in love (or as well as each person can). That leaves him. Damian doesn’t understand Marinette. Since she had first interacted with his family it’s like they’ve been wrapped around her finger. Jason stepping in isn’t like him at, when Damian had pressed him later on the matter all he had was shrug and said some lame line about being pulled toward her. Then there was the incident with Tim. Yes, Damian realizes that coffee is a sure fire way to get in wills with the man, but really? Coffee guardian? Bruce put his trust in an imbecile. Was Marinette truly that nice that she’d buy a coffee for a stranger? He can excuse Jason’s first interaction with her because it was not her initiating the interaction (and Damian is pretty sure he was reminded of his mother, who had been in a similar situation at one point) but the coffee shop? Then when he’d shown up at the penthouse to inform her of his family wanting her present at the manor. She’d look like she had walked through the red zone and survived. She had obviously been crying and later when he had put her to bed he could tell it was unslept in (yes, again he realizes she could’ve made it but logically if she were to answer the door she’d prefer to make herself presentable over making her bed, which is something a guest typically wouldn’t see).

Was the dinner offer just common courtesy? If not, why?

“What’s on your mind?” Damian looks up and sighs at the sight of his so-called ‘best friend’. “Nothing that concerns you,” he huffs, looking back down at the papers sitting uselessly on the desk in front of him.

“Oh it’s definitely something, if it’s nothing why are you pouting?” Jon dodges the projectile thrown at him. “You know if that was anyone else that would’ve hit me.” Damian hums in acknowledgement. “Nah but seriously what's got you in a tizzy” Damian glares. “Fine sorry, not tizzy. Umm mood?”

“The new person my family has been around, she seems off but I can’t put my finger on it?” Damian relents, the sooner he leaves him alone the better.

“Well tell me about them and what's bothering you,” Jon says. He’s ‘lying’ in the air as if he's lounging.

He rolls his eyes before laying out each individual interaction that Marinette had with his family and the reasoning behind why he believes what he does. Thankfully Jon doesn't interrupt, he just floats and nods along to Damain’s explanations. When Damian is satisfied he got his point across he lets out a breath before turning back to his work. Jon takes a minute and paces in his own sort of way which lets Damian know that Jon is taking the time to process the interactions and concerns to do with this mystery girl. Once the pacing comes to a stop Damian looks up from his work waiting for Jon’s conclusion.

“I’d be interested in meeting because I could give you a better judgment but from what you're telling me I genuinely think she's a good person. Did anything come up for you when dug into her background?” Jon asks.

“Nothing noteworthy beyond accomplishments to do with her career,” Damian admits with a sigh, unfortunately for him Jon knows him and his tendency especially when it comes to the safety and integrity of his family.

“That’s good, I realize it’s hard to trust people especially with your family’s reputation and your history. I think you should be cautious but give her a chance to prove you wrong, you may be surprised,” Jon says softly.

“I hope so because like I previously stated my family has taken quite the shine to her. I mean her grandma is friends with Alfred and he’s the best sense of character. If she has his approval it may just be not doing well with new people. I don’t say this often to people beside Alfred, but thank you for listening. It means a lot,” Damain responds before huffing and facing his desk again. “Now get out, you've overstayed your welcome and I have work to do.”

“Jokes on you, I cant overstay a welcome I never had,” Jon laughs before leaving Damian to his work. Once left to his own devices he couldn’t help but think what emotion was festering within him and why did Marinette have the power to cause this reaction.

----------------

As many of you may have realized I haven't posted a fic in literal years lol but like that motivation hits ig lmk if you want to be added/removed from the tag list (i completely understand if you want to be removed lol)

Both:

@wannajointhecrabcult @screwthisshit111 @rebecarojas07 @mystery-5-5 @animegirlweeb @moonystars14 @starlightshield @moonlightstar64 @novicevoice @user00000003 @kuroko26 @spyofthenightcourt @gingerdaile @miracleofadisaster @galla02006

Salt:

@aestheticnpoetic @mom-geans @pale-lady-dreamer @miraculouslymiraculous @chii29090 @sassakitty @blackmagicforever @certifiedbidisaster @lil-1254s-blog @iloontjeboontje @chocolatecatstheron @chaosace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @fandom-trapped-03 @meme991001

[paragonrobits]

also in recent times, my brother was on the outs with an old friend of his, the same roommate we’ve stayed with for most of our time since my mom passed, and he broke off his friendship with my brother as well as with all his friends for... some reason, I have no idea why. Apparently he just ghosted everyone, sent my brother a message saying he was cutting off all contact with him, and left. Nothing bad has happened to him, my brother looked into it and apparently he’s okay (if perhaps so staggeringly dense he should have his own orbit by now), but my brother is FUCKING PISSED at him.

Frankly speaking, we both have been angry at him for a while. When my brother’s cat passed, he initially promised to pay all the bills but reneged and instead we had to pay it all with money we could NOT afford to spend then but had little choice in the matter. During our time together he kept making a habit out of asking us to pay his part of the bills for him so he could save up for dental, even though he KNEW we didn’t have the money for it, and it turns out he had a truly massive amount of money saved up. All those times I had to beg people for finanical help just to make rent or other bills, he could have done that the whole time by just paying what he actually owed in his part of the rent instead of paying at best HALF of what he owed, or when we went hungry because we had no money to buy food and he just ignored it...

There’s also the fact of the guy being so staggeringly oblivious to what i TOLD him in my advice about apartment life: he kept talking about getting his own place and paying for it on his own no matter how many times I urged him to just stay with us or find roommates, because he could NOT afford to keep a one bedroom apartment on his own in our state. “No it’ll be fine,” he said. “I want to have an ADVENTURE.” i would tell him, no, adventures are for people who aren’t as poor as us, but he certainly didn’t listen.

On top of that, during the time we were with my sister, he kept bugging us for money (that again, we didn’t have) to pay off the storage on the place where all our stuff was. When i kept calling him to get the key code to the place so my dad could get the stuff out, he never replied or answered back. At the time I assumed he was holding all our things hostage for the money so i was seriously considering having my dad consider legal action because I was THAT fucking pissed with him, his refusal to take anything seriously and I thought “well no matter if this fucks his life over, at least then he’ll learn to take it seriously for once”.

It’s also pretty likely he is at least indirectly responsible for my brother’s cat’s ill health. That cat was originally his, though I hesitate to say so, as he didn’t KEEP the cat indoors but forced him to live outside in a fairly busy apartment complex, only letting him in briefly a few times a day for food and otherwise having him live as a stray while referring to himself as a pet owner. When my brother got him, the poor guy was horribly skinny (though we got him healthy pretty fast). But my brother’s ex-friend was also very negligent and while we went out of our way to make sure ANY dangerous materials were kept sealed away, he would just leave things like bleach and dark chocolate out in the open, and its likely my brother’s cat got sick from some of this stuff, and that’s how he got ill and led to his passing.

I’ve resented and disliked him for a long time, ever since he got me to give him all the money I had in exchange for food, and even thoguh he had a ton of money all the time then, enough to order out for food EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, he refused to buy any groceries and just said “WELL NOW WE GET CREATIVE WITH WHAT WE HAVE : D” and i was so pissed that he just FUCKING LIED TO ME that ever since, I had held a grudge

So, here we are now. At the very least, he returned a huge amount of books I completely forgot I had, though for him to have HAD them at all meant he had taken stuff from our storage without permission, implying he might have other stuff. Among other things he definitely has my brothers weights, and hasn’t responded to my brother demanding he gives them back. So at this point my brother is swearing off all contact with him and ensuring everyone who knows us is pissed at him and making damn sure all his bridges are burned.

[lieslab]

I talked to a friend about this, and I kinda regret it but also kinda don't..? She used to liked the guy and she's a close friend of mine, I know she means well and only wants the best for me. I basically showed her our chats and she told me how unsure she is cuz apparently he texted multiple of his girl friends that he likes them. I'm not sure if its in a platonic way or a romantic way but I'm probably gonna talk Abt it to him later. She basically just took off my rose tinted glasses and showed me how he might just be using me as a rebound or cuz of his FOMO since more ppl at our school have been starting to date. His response to why he started liking me was cuz I seemed like a "calm and reasonable person", my friend is friends with him but don't talk a bunch now, she just told me her concerns on how he might not be serious Abt this and how he also might not know how serious I mean about this. She also mentioned how she thinks he might not be ready for such a big commitment and that he might only be doing this cuz I'm the only option he has as of right now. It honestly hurts to hear that that might be the actual reason. But she really did slap some reality into me. I hope what she said wasn't true but at the same time, why did I expect so much out of a boy? I should've kept my expectations low from the get go

(I'll update you on this more if you want, might be a while tho, I hope all these asks aren't annoying you)

⭐

Nobody in my ask box is ever annoying. Anonymous or not, it's always an honor when people reach out. Whether it's a fic request, a compliment, or just random life stuff, it's always fun for me. It's like going to your mailbox in real life and getting a piece of mail. You never know what it's going to be until you open it.

Being used as the rebound is horrendous and really gross of him, if he truly is doing this to other people. If he's being a dickhead, the best thing to do is not get with him. Don't let an immature guy put your heart on the chopping block and dice it up.

It sounds like your friend wants the best for you. Those kinds of friendships are so valuable. Even if their words hurt, for her to admit that, at least you know now. Try not to take this too much to heart.

You still have so much life to live and you're going to meet people that change everything. Don't let a small hiccup stop you from knowing what you want and who you want to surround yourself with. You've totally got this and no matter where life takes you romantically or platonically, always put your best interest and your heart first <3

[scentedchildnacho]

I asked her if there is a day shelter to pick up a shower and she said there is only in Murrieta an emergency lock up with curfews....they lock people in it

Then she said hotels so I told her I already went through hotel introductions in Mississippi so I dont have to do that ever again

They did show me a lot of the hygiene terrorist plan....you have to hide secret issues as a gang then get on people to give you every last thing then force them to live under the madam so I really don't recommend anywhere with people to starved to have an adult disposition in their early twenties

You have to call the Catholic authorities they hide people and stalk people to afford the herd

If it isn't a community with a long term contract for you income and travel exchanges I don't recommend anyone that uses life as free experiences and tells you your money

Life isn't all bad there are people who want you to get to know their children like family

They want to herd then don't believe we are all more obligationally related then we realize

He wanted to know if I wanted to go to project touch so I told him I did try to contact them when I first arrived in Temecula but I never heard back from them.......they just left me in the street with non stop sound bombs to die of psychological torture

I explained to them they are a private company so they apparently don't want my case work

He was like keep calling so I asked him if he has ever wanted to live with anyone he had to be persistent with

I told him I do need to talk to state authorities about my case

Its apparently a public problem of modern day slavery so my case does need to be responsibly processed by the state

He told me they may be just lost my file so I told him I have no interest in any organization not competently lucid that files everything exactly with an accountant

He asked me if I saw someone in medical so I said Ibm and Johnson and Johnson has satellites and nano technologies just how your mind is recorded is better data collection then something shoved in an orfice

You think it's crazy but everything modern is based off collective mind

At the time I just said people don't do anything here but cigarette company it wouldn't matter if my face was a large yellow internal bleeding none of it will have done anything wrong caused any damage or exhibit any responsibility

Their only people who protect the company they don't care about anybody or anything and could never have ever done the right thing by anyone

They will just keep fucking people over till they try to migrate to Europe with the same their The only people....and Europeans will though effectively organize to say they don't want emigration and kill them of the methods they do to people like me who affiliate with black projects

Its true you have to do to others what you want done to you or people die of killing

Well they really wanted things to go free and most of my life has just not housing so Truman Capote I'm sure the lady will soon show me lots of properties to help clean up and most of it will be free of inefficient beauracracy and gang whores

Sure I will travel up the coast cleaning up abandonments

Its not my financial problem to have landlord offices for their whores to sit in

No no no if you want the debt of a bra bitch in a calvinist work spiritualism you have to pay to stick stuff in her it's not my problem

He asked me about state 🆔 and I said it won't ever happen for me most of life is very very concentrated needy and there is no way any of it will voluntarily give me my things in normal ways

It needed my things and it's and it will keep needing my things

Its been like eight states that have promised me they could replace my stolen 🆔 from Wisconsin and it's still true the legal groups told them that they don't want corporate process disturbed by an idea of nationalism that appears meaningless their also citizenship documents and they don't want to ship them around to any creep that touches stuff too much

They want that stuff to go really anywhere

Cities exist not nations and for hospitality to be correct Polynesia or Columbia has more correct indigenous language skills for product quality then is educated here

People are not educated in food science here to represent quality standards of The Conservation Corporation

Its not applicable to the project

[literaila]

hi i have a fic request: the reader and spencer were dating and instead of emily dying the reader “died”. and during the time that the reader was presumed “dead”, spencer met maeve and they started dated and everything and when the reader came back there was a ton of tension and awkwardness. and after maeve dies the reader comforts spencer and like they grow closer and get together? ty ily<3

the art of knowing 

spencer reid x gn! reader 

warnings: criminal minds themes, angst, fluff, death. all that fun stuff. 

a/n: its four am. i take no credit for any of this. thank you for the request, my love. 

*

he couldn't let go of that tiny piece of paper.

vaguely, he thought it might smell like you, still.

through the ceremony, through the tears, the stains on the vinyl flooring that everyone was walking on, the fresh grass, and the silence that followed when everyone had said goodbye-- he just couldn't let it go.

it was just a small piece of paper. a hastily scrawled-out letter to him, from you, that was on something only slightly bigger than a sticky note. he knew the words by heart, and even if he didn't, he could’ve guessed what it said.

he knew as soon as he saw it on his desk, as soon as he noticed the lone flower, the organization of the flies he’d left sprawled out. he knew that you’d been there, and he knew that you were gone. how could he not have known?

he couldn't get the question out of his head, and he couldn't get this paper out of his hand.

“goodbye, spencer” was quite possibly the last thing he would ever hear from you.

no, it was. he knew that.

god, he was sitting at your funeral, watching other people cry over you. he’d been asked to say something and he’d refused because you wouldn't want him crying on some podium in front of everyone else. because he wanted to save that for when he got home. he knew all of these things, and yet he still didn’t understand.

he had to face the truth, teach himself the reality.

he was still clutching the paper when derek came over, when he offered spencer a hand on the shoulder, his never-ending support.

spencer was trying to wipe away any hint of water that might be left on his face even though he knew that it would only irritate his eyes more. that he would cry some more today anyway.

“i’m sorry,” derek said instead of asking him what everyone else had asked him today. as if there was a difference in the responses they might get.

“you didn't do anything,” spencer said instead of telling him that he’d already said that. that he already knew. that he was sorry too.

“i didn't do enough,”

“there wasn't anything else you could do.” spencer didn't know why he was reassuring him, but, at least it distracted from the flowers everyone was laying on the ground.

“reid…”

spencer stood up, he clutched the paper in his hand harder, willing himself not to think of those last words again. he didn't look at derek, but he didn't walk away. his body was numb, his fingers felt like nothing. withdrawal, he could have told you. this is what heartbreak was. withdrawal from chemicals he’d grown dependent on.

but somehow, the science wasn't enough.

“i feel like i should have known,” he whispered, letting his eyes sting again. he didn't have the energy it would take to blink the tears away.

“known what?”

the scoff that followed the question was anything but kind. “two years. two years spent with y/n and i didn't even get the chance to know-” he could feel the words leaking out of his chest, flowing like blood, like there wasn't enough pressure. “a whole different life i didn't even know about.”

he was mad. he was so angry. he felt so guilty, but he couldn't feel anything but mad at the little piece of paper in his hands. the goodbye you had known he would need.

“we all have secrets,” derek said, another reassurance that just made spencer want to scream.

“yeah, and i’m supposed to know everything.”

it was just a tiny piece of paper. it wasn't you, it wasn't anything like the person he had known. you had died, you were dead, and you had died someone that spencer had never even known.

really, how couldn't he have known?

*

he’d known about addiction long before that day. long before he could ever properly understand what it was-- that you could be addicted to a person, too.

but, he also knew, he learned, that you could stop it. that you could put addiction in a drawer far away and move on with your life-- that you would take it out sometimes, just to look at it, and still it would be okay. that you could have more than just a second chance.

he knew that, now, then, before all of this, even.

spencer was a genius, and he knew now how grief worked. he knew how the passing of time could really heal a person.

he knew that he was falling in love with a voice.

that there were multiple stages to addiction.

and one of those was leaving you behind.

*

he… he didn't know who this person was.

he didn't, he just didn't understand who was standing in front of him, who was there, why you were standing there right in front of him.

awkwardly smiling.

you didn't exist anymore. not to him-- not to anyone. you were dead, you were sitting in the ground somewhere, you were a ghost flying above his head, telling him it was okay to move on.

you were there, standing in front of him.

he didn't know you. he didn't know those eyes, and he didn't know that smile, and he didn't know who he was when you were here. he didn't know how you were here.

so he asked.

“how?” he swallowed, tried to get that dried feeling out of his mouth.

“y/l/n’s identity was strictly ‘need to know’ and Paris was a safe place to be reassigned until their security was assured.”

apparently, it was now because you were standing in front of him.

you were standing in front of him, and he wasn't addicted to you anymore. he didn't care, and he couldn't feel anything, even when he willed himself to. he felt like the corpse, like he was the one who was burried in the ground-- like you were supposed to be. 

but, no. no, because you were alive and he felt nothing.

and when you spoke, his heart didn't race. when he looked at your eyes, he didnt even classify them as familiar. they were something else, you were something else. 

he knew beause he had your last words memorized, and these certainly weren't them.

and god, he certainly didn't know you.

*

it didn't take long to understand. not for you, who had known spencer better than you’d known anything before. not for you, who used to study his face, watch his expressions until you got bored-- just for fun.

it didn't take long to understand that something had changed, to see the difference in the air between the two of you. to feel it. 

there was something different in his eyes, and, something had changed. even from the first moment he looked at you, that first pass of his eyes, even then. you knew. 

how couldn’t you know? 

they were different-- the brown, the swirl of colors, the familiarity. it was different. it was strange and terrifying, the change. 

those eyes weren't looking at you the same, he wasn't looking at you like he used to.

and you knew that, you could feel it. so half an hour later when you were all walking out of the room, you had to chase him down. no after how determined he was to get away.

“spence-” you followed him, focused on nothing else. “spencer, hey-”

he turned around. you were shocked, by his eyes, by his frown. you took a step back, and you felt more than you possibly could in a hallway at the bureau.

“what?” he asked, and you weren't sure. what else was there to say? what were you supposed to know? how were you supposed to guess what had changed?

“i…” you willed your eyes not to sting, willed yourself not to be affected by this certain feeling in your chest. “i missed you?”

and maybe it was the wrong thing to say, maybe it was. but the scoff from spencer, the scoff hurt.

“i missed you too, when i thought you were dead.”

you stepped back, hurt, concerned, anything but the happiness you’d hoped to feel when you finally saw him again. his words were unfamiliar, his eyes were unfamiliar, and you still didn't know what to say.

how were you supposed to fix this?

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, looking down. you felt small now. you didn't understand, no matter how much you thought you might.

you’d died, you knew. you were gone for months, but you’d missed him. you’d spent every day, every single one of them, hoping, dreaming, wanting to go back to him. you wanted to touch him, to hear his voice, to listen to him even if it was over a cellphone. you wanted to be alive to him, to be his still. you just wanted him back.

you’d spent every day wanting him back. 

but now, now all you wanted to do was to feel bigger. you wanted to see him smile, to know what had changed. you wanted the truth and nothing short of it. 

“y/n, i…”

and this. this wasn't anger. his voice, quiet as it always was, beautiful as it always had been, desperate like you’d never heard before-- his voice was full of guilt, of shame you couldn't recognize.

“i’m glad you aren't dead.”

“ha,” you deadpanned, angry now at the sound of his voice. angry now at the feeling building in your chest. you weren't used to him anymore, you didn't know him the same anymore. but still, you knew too much.

“really, really glad, but i’ve,” his voice cracked, his eyes fell, his body was slouching. you knew how to read this, you would’ve known even if it wasn't him.

you didn't want to hear the next words, but you had to, and you did.

“i met someone- i-”

and maybe it was grief, maybe it was anger, maybe it was desperation, but you smiled. maybe it was an effort to be enough.

“it's okay, spencer.”

those words were such lies, but you had to believe them, you had to feel like you believed them. you owed him that. 

“if you’re happy, then it's okay. that's all i’ve wanted, all i could hope for in-” you swallowed, took a breath that was just enough to keep you from falling on the floor, from begging at his feet. “paris,” you smiled wider, you took a step back, but this time just to give him space. “its okay,” you repeated.

and that had to be enough. it had to be enough because you were walking away.

but, really, spencer was the one who was leaving you behind. you should’ve understood sooner-- because how could you not have known?

*

you didn't bother to look at him.

it had been three weeks. three weeks since you’d broken up-- officially for you since you’d never actually gotten the chance to before, but you supposed you couldn’t actually break up with a corpse. three weeks since you’d smiled and walked away.

it had to be what was best for him. if spencer could find someone who made him happy, if spencer could find someone in the minuscule months you’d been gone, if spencer could move past you, then he deserved to. you couldn't be the one to stop that, and you wouldn't be mad because, honestly, you’d done it to yourself.

and he couldn't be mad because you weren't. because you’d let him go and he had no more reason to be mad. he could even go back to pretending you didn't exist if he wished to.

so you were both content. you both worked with each other, you both avoided eyes. you couldn't bother to look at him or his eyes when all you wanted to do was scream at the feeling in them.

because you’d known that feeling--before. because you’d been on the other end of that feeling before, because your eyes had mirrored his before, and because you knew how that felt.

and you were desperate to get it back. you wanted to pull him back, force him to stay in the cocoon of the two of you. you wanted to claw at him and never allow him to move away.

but that was selfish. you’d already been selfish enough. you’d made him grieve you, and now you had to return the favor.

the difference between the two of you was that you didn't know enough about addiction. you didn't know that despite the time that had passed, your withdrawal had never actually gone away. you didn't know how it worked and so you didn't know that it was still there.

you just saw the look in his eyes. a look you’d used to create. the look of love, of admiration, of hope. love, you used to feel, you think.

when you looked at him all you could see was the feelings he had for someone else.

so no, you didn't bother to look at him.

*

here was what spencer knew about grief: it passed. it was just withdrawal until it wasn't. love was just another addiction, just some more chemicals in your brain, just an idea that you clung to.

it would pass, he knew.

but how could he have known this would happen again?

it would pass, eventually.

but how was he supposed to live through it twice, but really only once?

because you were still here. because you were alive, and not dead, and you were walking him home. you were making sure he got there safe.

and you weren't dead, but she was.

and how was spencer supposed to cope with that?

how could he grieve, when he really didn't know how?

*

if this had been a fraction of what it was like when spencer thought you died, if this was anything like that-- you couldn't bear to see it.

it was like repetition, it was like deja vu, like a memory.

you saw his eyes, and you saw his hopelessness, and you saw yourself reflected back in the colors of his face. you saw the grief, the pain, the anger, the loss.

you couldn't bear to watch this, not then, not now. not when you still felt angry, not when you were still angry.

they had all pleaded with you-- go talk to him, they said. talk to him, you’ll understand.

but that wasn't fair because spencer hadn't died for you. you’d left him and spencer had survived. it wasn’t fair because you still hadn't learned how to deal with any of it. you still couldn't let go, move on, as he had.

so then, why were you standing in front of his door, holding a card addressed to spencer from all of your friends?

well, you couldn't bear to stay away. and you almost couldn't bear to face him when he opened the door, but somehow, you did. somehow, you spoke first.

“hi, spencer,” you said, waving at him, moving back a little, just to give him some space.

“what’re you…” he looked around, looking for someone with you, someone else. his voice was rough like he hadn't talked in days. he looked like a skeleton, standing there in front of you. “...doing here?” he looked you up and down, but he wasn't really looking at anything.

you noticed the hand he had on the door, the subconscious way he had begun to close it, the hand he was holding over his chest, blocking you from him.

“the team sent me, they’re really worried,” your voice was shaking, and you had no idea why. “i brought a card from them, and- and i wanted to see how you were doing.”

his brows furrowed, like what you’d said didn't make any sense. you copied him, concerned with your own sanity. wondering again, why you were here?

“no offense,” he started, standing up taller, looking and sounding anything like spencer, anything but pleasant. “but we aren't really friends, are we?”

there was some irritation rolling up your spine at his words, but his face was innocent. he wasn't being malicious, he wasn't trying to make you feel ridiculous, and he wasn't trying to hurt you anymore. he was too kind for that, you knew. 

you took a breath in, tried to smile. “i guess not,” you sighed, looking down at the ground with unmistakable shame, but then you looked back up. “but, i care about you. i want to be here for you. i- i want to be.. here.”

and no matter how closed off he looked, no matter how strange his face looked, no matter how much you knew he didn't want to, he opened the door and let you in.

and that was how it started. your friendship with spencer.

really, who could’ve known?

*

"i like your apartment," you said while the two of you walked through it. while spencer led you through whatever this strange place was.

"yeah, well, i couldn't keep the apartment after..." he trailed off, no remorse, no feeling in his voice.

you went to sit on his couch, strange and different, but he stayed standing. he paced around the floor, mumbling things under his breath you couldn't understand.

the tightlipped smile you had on your face was doing nothing to conceal your emotions.

"after i died."

he looked up at that, shocked by your crudeness. you rolled your eyes, pulling off your jacket.

"that's a shame, i really liked that kitchen."

spencer bit his lip, continued his pacing, muttered "i know" under his breath. his irritation would've made you laugh if he wasn't looking so insane.

you saw the bottles on the table, the mugs laying around, the papers and books thrown across the floor-- all the things you didn't want to see, you saw them. and you almost couldn't bear it, almost tried to pretend you still hadn't noticed them. but, you were familiar with this.

he did this before when he was still in love with you. when he was stressed.

despite how hard you might try, you couldn't just forget everything about him.

"do i need to ask spencer?" your voice was softer now, quieter. you knew him, and he knew what you were asking.

"do you really want the answer, y/n?" he retorted, rolling his eyes.

maybe sometime, you'd tell him that his defense mechanism was sarcasm. maybe sometime, you'd let him know how annoying it could be.

"it's not going to be what i want, but, neither is anything else." it was a subtle remark about the situation, you hoped spencer hadn't heard those last couple of words. "i don't want this for you, spencer, but i'm here to listen, and so i will."

he stopped pacing, stopped stepping over books and around paperwork. he stopped moving, and it reminded you of that night.

it reminded you of him collapsing in on himself, it reminded you of the anger you knew you didn't deserve to feel, the relief you knew you would never get.

it reminded you of further back when all you could do was smile and let him go.

you'd known him for so long, but you'd never seen him broken like this.

your thoughts distracted you from spencer, who was sitting next to you now, running an agitated hand through his hair, turning himself away from you.

"do you know what grief does to the body?" he asked.

yes, you could have answered. yes, im feeling it right now.

but instead, you said "no," and waited for him to continue.

he did, begrudgingly, a few moments later. "the shock factor causes a spike of adrenaline in your system-- a lot like someone gets in a bad accident --and then when the adrenaline wears off, your body has no choice but to succumb to the pain."

and you, well, you could have told him that, but you let him continue.

"a lot of people have documented actual inflammation which attributes to health issues after a loved one has..." he stopped there. he paused, and his eyes were gone. his feeling was gone, his words were gone.

you could practically see him disappearing on the couch, right next to you.

you could see him slipping away, the reality sinking in further than it could before, and so, you started talking.

you had to say something, and this would have to be enough. your remorse for him would have to be enough to get you through this.

because otherwise, how could you stand it?

"do you ever get that moment in the morning, when you've temporarily forgotten everything bad and it just feels... peaceful?" the words were a shock to both of you. the sound of your voice. 

you weren't looking at him, but the wall, willing yourself not to feel that reminder. not to think of any of it. "do you ever get that?" you repeated, eyes off. 

spencer nodded, small, hard for you to see when you were actively trying not to look at him-- but enough to continue.

"it's like our conscious and subconscious make a pact, to give us that split second of peace." you laughed, bittersweet, and looked at him. you turned towards him, making sure he was looking at you.

making sure he couldn't tell what you were thinking about, that this was about anything but him.

"when that relief happens, spencer, you have to grab hold of it-- just hold onto it."

he stared at you, brows furrowed.

"you reach, and you grab it, and you keep it." you nodded along with your words, feeling that sick crawling up your chest, feeling that grief along with all the guilt.

this wasn't fair to him, you knew that, but if this could help-- even a little bit --you had to try.

"why...?" spencer tried to start, clearing his throat to keep his word from breaking.

"that's how you get past it." you motioned to him, to the floor, to the things all around his home, and finally, to yourself. "passed all the shock, and adrenaline, and all the sick."

spencer was looking down, not at you anymore, not at anything.

you used to know those eyes, you were sure. you used to understand every thought that ran through his head, you used to remember the person you had been with him. you used to be able to think of him without cringing, without that sick feeling in your stomach, wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

you used to understand, and now you didn't. but this had to be enough. this had to be enough for you, to be here with him.

"okay?" you asked, softer, gently. "okay?" you repeated.

and he nodded.

*

you went over once a week. just for the first couple of months. you went over to spencer's, you watched movies, you held his hand and squeezed his shoulder.

you managed not to tear yourself into pieces, managed to actually smile when you were around him. you managed to do it all, managed to do enough to keep the nightmares away, to keep those circles from under his eyes.

and that's all you wanted, really. that's all you needed. as long as spencer was okay, okay as he could be, as long as he was coping, moving on, doing everything a normal human being should. as long as he was doing all of that, you didn't need anything else.

and, and if there was a tiny piece of you, locked away in all the dark parts you tried to keep secret-- if there was a piece of you that was hopeful, that was holding onto something other than just tiny moments, if there was a piece of you that thought maybe he would just-

if there was any piece of you that thought differently, well, you would ignore it.

you went over once a week, just to make sure he was okay.

and really, where was the harm in that?

*

"'the shining' tonight?" he asked, walking alongside you, carrying the coffee you had just bought for him.

"why do you insist on watching that at least once a month-"

"this is actually only the third time,"

"it was enough the first two." he smiled at you, and you couldn't keep the grin from slipping back.

"sounds good," he concluded, walking along.

and if you followed him, well, you were just being a good friend.

*

"do you think i should get a haircut?" you asked, walking around his desk, prancing more like. prancing like he was your prey and you were about to eat him.

the thought made you giggle.

"your hair looks fine," he answered, not really paying attention. instead, he was marking something off of a page, flipping to the next one in barely a second.

"real nice, spence. as long as you think it's fine-"

"did you know that the average person gets around 150 haircuts in their lifetime?"

"yeah, spencer, and all those people have dead ends," you groaned and he hummed.

and if you liked the way the light was reflecting off of his face, hiding the shadows you knew were there, well, you were just bored.

*

"spencer-" he was running away from you, running away from whatever ghost was following him.

you had to stop chasing him, but somehow, you knew you wouldn't be able to even if you tried.

"spencer, will you just-" you tried again, running far enough ahead so that you could stand in his way.

you couldn't bear to see the blank look in his eyes, the emotionless void you would never get used to.

"yes?" he asked, like you were a child like you were a little kid and you needed him to fix something.

it was condescending and rude and you just wanted to yell at him-- to yell at yourself for being irritated.

"are you okay?" you asked instead. you hated the words, but you hated this feeling more.

"i'm fine." and then he attempted to get past you.

"spencer, those girls, they were all-"

"all what, y/n? all shot? all murdered?"

"that's not what i mean-"

"that's the job, y/l/n. you should know that."

he was gone after that. disappearing, like you both had before.

and, if you wanted to scream, to bang your fists against the wall until it broke, to beg him to just listen to you, to sleep in his bed and watch him while he slept, well. you were going to ignore it. grief wasn't an object, and it wouldn't go away.

you would know.

*

some nights, particularly on the ones when spencer was busy, when there was a case and you weren't supposed to be sneaking into each other's hotel room, on those nights you felt colder than you ever had before.

you felt that feeling again-- the one spencer had taught you about.

the sick that almost made your insides collapse. the sick that was going to fill you to the brim until it couldn't anymore, numb you to the very edge. the sick that had been there for over a year, a long year full of death. full of life and nothing but destruction. the infection that should've been gone ages ago.

on those nights, you tried to hold onto reality, tried to remind yourself of what had actually happened.

it was all a chain of events, really. and it was truly all of your fault.

you couldn't be angry because if you wanted to be angry at someone, it had to be yourself.

it couldn't be spencer, or maeve, or hotch, or the universe.

just you.

and the sick would pass, you knew. the next day when spencer would hand you your coffee mug, when he would say something-- anything --and you would listen. it would all go away.

and if those feelings, if that reality that you kept trying to avoid, if that wouldn't go away, well. you were going to have to let it go because you couldn't keep going like this. pretending.

honestly, how couldn't you know?

*

recently, the effort you'd put into keeping at least a three-foot distance between you and spencer was tireless.

to give him space, obviously. to avoid bumping into him when you were walking, to keep yourself from tripping into him.

it was just convenient, you told yourself. nothing else to it.

except, on this night, after a long day at work, after spencer had sat down right next to you with a book in hand, so much closer than you wanted. well, you couldn't just simply move away.

there was no space on this couch anyway.

technically, you were supposed to be watching a movie. technically, spencer had picked this one out-- something about the discovery of water, you thought --and you had no interest in it. technically, he was completely ignoring it.

before, two years ago-- almost, that was. almost two years without him. before, two years ago, you would've bickered with him about it until he gave in. until he put down the book, clicked a button on the remote you'd misplaced, and lean in so close to you that you could barely breathe. it was a routine, you were sure, and back then you wondered if he brought the book out just so you would tease him about. like it was an excuse to kiss you if he needed one.

not that you were thinking about that. not that he was doing it again. not that it mattered, honestly.

just a memory that hit you, is all, as you stared at the screen, pretended to listen to the words when all you wanted to do was put some distance between the two of you.

it was getting hard not to feel that pull, not to let that feeling trap you.

"spencer," you whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

he hummed instead of answering, didn't look up from the page.

"you're cold,"

he quirked an eyebrow at you, turning towards you only slightly. he was only a little bit closer now, but it only proved you were lying some more.

he was desperately hot.

"do you need a blanket?" he asked, the picture of innocence.

at least one of you was.

"no, just maybe a little more space. don't want to get hypothermia," you coughed, an attempted laugh maybe, and tried to move away.

"you're not showing any of the symptoms of hypothermia-- are you fatigued, or is your heart racing?"

you would've laughed if he wasn't moving his face closer to yours, trying to check your pupils discreetly.

"um, no, spencer. i was kidding, i'm just going to--" you moved, an inch, and then another, smiling at him.

it wasn't too suspicious. and the movie was halfway over.

"okay,"

and you looked back at the screen...

only to feel his eyes on you a moment later. you turned your head slightly. he hadn't picked his book back up, hadn't moved an inch from before.

"aren't you going to read your book again so you can keep bothering me, reid?"

you didn't need to look to see the smile. "is it bothering you?"

you threw your head back, turning so he could see you roll your eyes. his brown ones, impossibly bright, impossibly beautiful were staring back at you, mischievous. you bit the inside of your cheek and then laughed.

"no, of course not, spencer." you turned towards the tv again. "i am very interested and equally involved in the discovery of water," you waved your hand for him to continue.

"that's not actually what..." he trailed off, freezing at something.

"are you okay?" this time, you didn't hesitate to move closer to him, to place a hand on his shoulder and get him to look at you.

his heat was excruciating and addicting. a dangerous combination.

but your concern beat your stupid feelings, and so, you didn't move away.

"deja vu..." he said, head-turning, eyes looking down on you.

"what?"

"we've done this before," was all he said, continuing to stare like he didn't know what was happening. staring at you with strange eyes, strange wide eyes.

it was only scaring you a little bit. you didn't understand.

"we've never watched this movie before," you reassured as if he was worried about that. as if that was the problem.

"no," he said, moving a foot closer, breaking the boundary you had put between the two of you. "no, but we've done this before."

he was too close, now.

"spencer... what?" you looked from the screen to him, nervously, trying not to feel intimidated, small. he hadn't been this close in so long.

"just-" and then he was leaning in. he was leaning close enough for his breath to trail across your skin, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his cheek, that you could barely see his eyes anymore.

close enough to kiss you.

but, you couldnt breathe like that.

and so, with all the grace you had, you moved back. so far back, and put your knees up as a barrier between the two of you. anything to keep him away.

"um, spencer i don't know if you forgot-" he tried to interrupt, but you weren't paying attention. "i died, remember? and then- and then, um, you moved on and, we haven't done that in a long time and-"

“y/n-"

"-we're just friends, right? and friends don't really get that close- we shouldn't get-" but he was, he was getting that close, and your stuttering was slowing because you couldn't focus on anything but him.

"i remember," spencer whispered, but his eyes weren't on yours anymore. no, they were on your lips, staring down at the place he hadn't bothered to look at in two years. at your face, which he hadn't seen until now.

"we cant-"

"can i kiss you?" he asked, instead of paying attention, instead of remembering, instead of understanding that this was going to tear you from the inside out.

"i don't think that's a good idea, spencer, i really don't..." you trailed off because he was moving back.

"i'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to," he promised, looking so beautiful, speaking so plainly. 

and those words, they made your heart start beating again. because who was he to assume?

"no! it's just- we haven't kissed. we don't kiss, anymore."

it was a painful reality, and you almost felt bad for saying it when you saw the wince on spencer's face, but, it was the truth. you couldn't deny either of you from the truth.

"i know it's familiar, and maybe comforting, but i don't think it's a good idea." you breathed in once, wanted to scream at yourself for saying those words. wanted to scream because you'd wanted to kiss spencer since the moment you'd stopped.

"no, that's not why i want to kiss you," his voice broke on the word kiss, and you attempted to scramble yourself on the couch, to move so that he wouldn't have the opportunity to convince you.

it wouldn't take much.

"it'll just hurt us both more, spencer." your voice was monotone because you weren't sure if you could get this out any other way. the stinging around your eyes had to be fake because you weren't crying.

honestly, you didn't care.

and then, spencer got up, walked away.

and you had to care. you had to care because, despite the fact that he'd left you, that you'd been grieving for him for the last two years, that you missed him more than it was possible to miss another person-- despite all of that, he was your best friend.

he'd become your best friend, had been that since you'd first met, and you couldn't let that go now.

so you followed, you followed again, and called his name again, and begged him to come back, for the first time out loud.

but when he came back out of his bedroom, all you heard was the crinkling of paper.

you just saw spencer's never-ending serious face, but, mixed was the tiniest him of embarrassment. the pink splattered across his cheek, the hesitation to look at you.

he was holding something.

"what's that?" you asked, distracted from the issue, momentarily focused on just him and not the past.

except, when he held it up, you could see that it was the opposite.

"it's the letter you wrote me when-" he swallowed, smiling a sad smile at you and then looking down again. "when you left."

you'd left it on his desk, so he'd find it first. so that he would be the first one to know.

"oh," you breathed out, shocked, sick.

"i kept it because it was the last piece i had of you," he folded it into tiny pieces, then unfolded it along the creases. it looked like a practiced motion "i used to keep it in my shirt pocket, but when i met maeve, i put it in my bedside drawer."

goodbye, spencer. you'd wrote. you'd cried while writing it, cried while you drove away, cried when you woke up in the hospital, cried every night after you came back.

it was excruciating to leave without spencer, but you'd learned it was worse to have him leave you when you were still there.

you'd have traded that feeling for anything else.

you breathed in, shakily. you didn't like these memories, you didn't like that he was digging them back up, but you had to listen. you wouldn't leave, now.

"i put it in my bedside drawer because it's important to keep mementos-- its actually a method of coping, and some people believe it strengthens relationships, and you were gone, but i thought that-" he stopped. took a deep breath in, closed his eyes and counted to three. you could tell, you knew him that well.

you smiled, despite the stinging in your eyes, the pricks on your skin, the crawling up your stomach.

"i kept it because it was the last words i got from you, and i couldn't let that go. i still cant, y/n."

you couldn't process these words, you couldn't process this feeling. it was detrimental, and you had noting you could say.

"i don't know if you can ever stop loving someone, i mean," he snorted, looked right at you like he didn't know what he was saying. "i know you can learn to love someone else, but, i don't know if you can ever get rid of that feeling... of that-" and he was still looking at you, but he wasn't talking anymore.

and you weren't breathing because this was a dream, because you would not allow yourself to wake up from this, and you would not start crying in front of him.

you were selfish selfish selfish.

"i don't know how i couldn't have known i was still in love with you, but i didn't, and now," his eyes, his voice, his entire demeanor softened. he was molding, changing right in front of you. it had to be impossible. "i do. i know."

spencer had never spoken this much, he didn't confess, he didn't not know things, so this had to be fake. it had to be.

"spencer," you gasped out, shocked by the sound of your own voice. shocked to find out that you still couldn't breathe.

shocked to watch him move forward, smile the same smile you thought you might've fallen in love with.

"you know now, so, can i kiss you?"

you couldn't remember the last time the two of you had kissed. you thought that it might've been right before bed that night, that you might've kissed him on his forehead while he was sitting on his desk, that he might've kissed up your neck while you cuddled each other to sleep.

but you couldn't remember.

and so, it was painful to even utter the word "yes".

it was painful to feel that again. that lovely, lovely feeling.

his lips against yours, softer than you could remember, slower than you'd ever imagined possible. so much better than you could've thought another persons lips could be.

and you wanted to gasp, to breathe, but you didn't dare move away from him.

this was too good, this was too waited for, this was too painful to move back.

and so you didn't and neither did he. neither of you could.

you grabbed at each other, threaded your hands through his hair, held onto his face like you would never let go, and you kissed him like you loved him.

because you did.

and then, when you did break, when you were sure, you moved back and couldn't stop the slip of "spencer" that came from your lips.

your puffy, recently kissed lips.

and when you finally got the courage to open your eyes, the most beautiful smile you could've seen was there. waiting for you.

"you're my moment." spencer said, he whispered as if it was a realization.

"what?" you asked, still breathless, still addicted to a kiss you hadn't allowed yourself to think of, really, in two years.

"that moment in the morning, the moment of peace when everything is still good... you're my moment."

your heart stopped again. stopped, because this was you, these were your words coming from his lips.

"do you remember?" he asked, thinking of those words from those months ago, those words you'd told him in an effort to comfort yourself. to remind yourself that he was still there.

you nodded and spencer smiled.

"you're my peace and my relief, y/n," he pulled your face closer to his, leaned in, and it was like nothing you'd ever felt before.

his smile, his lips, his words.

this was a strange feeling.

"i'm holding onto you, now. i don't think i can let go,"

these weren't his words, but they were enough.

you were smiling, you realized. even with the tear stains down your face, even with the puffy lips, even with the heartache and the addiction, even with the years between the two of you.

you were smiling.

"i love you, spencer."

and so was he.

because really, how couldn't you have known?

* 

my masterlist here.