#he’s emotional!!!!! he cares!!!!!!! he tries protecting himself with anger and sarcasm but he feels so much it bursts out of him anyway

[aceattorneyrambles]

One of my favorite character moments (and the thing that immediately made me love him) for Apollo that I think is so intensely important to understanding him goes way back to Case 2 of Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice.

In that case, Trucy stages a “kidnapping” by using Mr. Hat to distract the court, and when Apollo rushes out into the lobby and sees her safe and sound…

He cries.

He’s so overcome with worry and relief that he cries for a girl he barely knows. A girl who, for all intents and purposes, almost cost him the badge he worked so hard to gain. A girl who focused most of the time they did know each other teasing him and not taking him seriously.

And yet, he cries for her anyway. He sobs, even.

It’s a throwaway moment, likely done for comedic effect, but it really hit me, and Trucy’s immediate earnest response telling Apollo not to cry and then him doubling down with protective rage on her behalf hit it home harder, y’know?

Apollo Justice, at his core, cares. Despite his surly attitude a lot of the time, this is nonetheless a defining trait of his. He cares, so much, and so easily, and we see it firsthand right there as he cries for a near stranger.

(And I also think it’s worth noting that the first time we really, truly see Trucy lower her performance mask and cry herself…it’s to Apollo.)

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 14

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 8.8k 👀

Warnings: ANGST, Mentions of brief virg!nty loss

A/N: I was gonna make this 2 parts cuz its long but it just didnt flow nice soooo your welcome 🫶🏻

Summer before senior year

“You’re not going with him!” Bucky said, standing in front of you with his arms crossed, his tone more commanding than concerned.

You frowned, crossing your arms in defiance. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“He’s no good for you,” Bucky shot back, his voice rising. “Mike doesn’t care about anything but himself.”

“Oh, and you’re suddenly the expert on who’s good for me?” you snapped, frustration bubbling over. “I’ve known Mike as long as you have, Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons. “Trust me, he’s bad enough. And you’re not going.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” you yelled, stepping closer to him. “I’m not a child, and you’re not the boss of me!”

“I’m trying to protect you!” Bucky shouted back, his voice breaking slightly with desperation. “Fine, go! But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart, because he will. He only wants one thing.”

You glared at him, the words stinging more than you wanted to admit. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

Bucky scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Your virginity,” he said, his voice bitter. “That’s all he cares about.”

You froze, his words hitting like a slap. “And how would you know if I’m a virgin, Bucky?” you spat, your voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I’m ready to lose it. Maybe I’m tired of being the only one who hasn’t.”

Bucky’s expression darkened, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, so now you’re in a rush to keep up with everyone else? What, just because I lost mine, you suddenly want to lose yours?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your breath caught in your throat as his words settled. “You… you lost yours?” you asked quietly, your anger briefly replaced by shock.

Bucky’s defensive posture faltered, and he exhaled deeply, his annoyance still evident. “Yeah,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes. “With Carley.”

Your heart sank, a strange mix of emotions washing over you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky shrugged, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. “Because you’re not one of the guys. I didn’t think it mattered.”

You nodded slowly, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Noted,” you said curtly, turning on your heel and walking away before the tears could fall.

Bucky called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

"Don't come crying to me, i mean it!"

The date with Mike started fine. He picked you up in his car, flashing his usual charming grin. But as he drove you to the cliffside—a spot where half the school went to make out or hook up—your mind kept replaying the fight with Bucky. His words echoed in your head, cutting deeper with each repetition.

Mike was sweet enough, but his intentions were clear. When he leaned in to kiss you, you let him. His hands roamed, his kisses became more insistent, and when he whispered, “Are you sure?” you barely hesitated.

“Yeah,” you murmured, the numbness creeping in as you tried to push all thoughts of Bucky out of your mind.

The act itself was quick, mechanical. It didn’t feel like the magical, life-changing moment you’d once fantasized about—especially not the one where Bucky was somehow involved, as stupid and childish as that fantasy had been. Instead, it was awkward and empty.

When it was over, Mike leaned back, pulling his clothes on casually. “You good?” he asked, his tone light but distant.

You nodded, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Mike stretched, glancing at his watch. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head, staring out at the horizon where the first hints of dawn were starting to creep in. “No, I think I’ll stay here for a bit.”

Mike didn’t argue. “Alright. See you around,” he said with a grin, getting into his car and driving off without a second glance.

As his taillights disappeared, the weight of what you’d just done hit you. You pulled your knees to your chest, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. You stayed there, alone on the cliffside, as the sun began to rise, crying for everything you’d lost and everything that could never be.

You cried for the stupid fantasy you’d had, for the connection you and Bucky had once shared, and for the gaping hole that now seemed impossible to fill.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, the cold morning air biting at your skin as the sun’s first light painted the horizon in soft pinks and oranges. Your tears had finally stopped, but the hollow ache in your chest remained, a constant reminder of the choices you’d made and the moment you couldn’t take back.

You pulled out your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. Bucky’s name was right there, familiar and taunting. Your thumb hovered over it for a moment, but then you shook your head, blinking away the fresh sting of tears.

You couldn’t call Bucky—not after everything. Not after the fight, not after what he’d said, not after tonight.

Instead, your thumb slid down to another name.

Steve.

Your heart pounded as you pressed the call button. The line rang twice before his voice came through, groggy but instantly alert.

“Hello? Y/N?” Steve’s voice softened, concern lacing every word. “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Hearing his voice felt like a lifeline, and for a moment, all the emotions you’d been holding in threatened to spill over again. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Steve… can you come get me?” you asked, your voice small and broken. “I’m at the cliff.”

There was a brief pause, then the sound of rustling sheets as Steve sat up. “Yeah, of course. Stay put, alright? I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a blanket.

Fifteen minutes later, the familiar rumble of Steve’s car pulled you from your daze. He parked and quickly got out, his worried eyes finding you immediately. His hair was messy, and he was still in sweatpants and a hoodie, clearly having rushed out of bed to get to you.

“Y/N…” he said softly, walking over to where you sat. Without another word, he shrugged off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, kneeling down in front of you. “What happened?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as fresh tears threatened to fall. “I… I messed up, Stevie.”

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your knee. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. But Steve’s patient, steady gaze gave you the courage to speak. “I… I was with Mike tonight....last night i guess now"

Steve’s jaw tensed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“And… and I let him… we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, but the way Steve’s eyes softened told you he understood.

“Oh, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet sympathy. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes. “It was supposed to mean something,” you whispered. “But it didn’t. It didn’t mean anything. I just… I just wanted to feel like everyone else for once. Like I wasn’t being left behind.”

Steve’s grip on your knee tightened slightly, his brows drawing together. “You’re not being left behind. You don’t need to rush into anything just because other people are.”

You let out a shaky laugh, bitter and self-deprecating. “Too late for that now.”

Steve sighed, shifting to sit beside you on the edge of the cliff. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re not defined by one moment, Y/N,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change who you are or what you’re worth. You’re still you, and you’re still amazing.”

You leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding you as the cool breeze swept past.

Friday Morning

You were running late, your thoughts a tangled mess as you walked briskly toward work. The looming reality of tonight’s bar meet-up gnawed at your nerves. Dean meeting your friends, meeting Bucky—it felt like a line you weren’t ready to cross, even though you knew you had to eventually.

Your phone buzzed against your ear as Natasha’s voice filled the silence, grounding you slightly. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked, her tone bordering on impatient.

You muttered a distracted, “Yeah, sorry,” as you pushed open the door to your favorite coffee shop. The familiar smell of roasted beans and baked goods hit you, but it did little to calm the storm in your chest. You glanced at the line, groaning softly when you saw how long it was.

Natasha sighed on the other end of the line. “Something about coffee, right? Let me guess, you’re about to be late again.”

“Yeah, the line’s too long,” you grumbled, stepping to the side to avoid blocking the doorway. “I’ll just skip it.”

Before she could reply, your eyes landed on someone by the counter, waiting for his drink. He was wearing a fitted black jacket over a plain white tee, his hair a little messy, like he’d just rolled out of bed. Bucky.

He must have felt your gaze because, in that moment, he turned. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and everything else—the bustling café, the noise, even Natasha’s voice in your ear—faded into the background.

You both froze, caught in a stare that felt like it lasted far too long and not long enough. His expression shifted, something soft flickering in his eyes before he masked it with a neutral look.

“Hello? Y/N? Are you even there?” Natasha’s voice snapped you back to reality.

You blinked, your heart pounding as you quickly looked away. “Sorry, Nat. Yeah, I’m here,” you said, forcing your voice to sound normal. “I was just… distracted.”

Natasha groaned on the other end. “Look, relax about tonight, okay? Everyone’s going to love Dean because we all love you. And Wanda’s super excited to meet him, so you’ve got her vote.”

You swallowed, your eyes flickering back toward Bucky. He was picking up his drink, his jaw tense, but he hadn’t looked away from you. You could feel the weight of his gaze even as you tried to focus on Natasha’s words.

“Yeah, okay,” you murmured, not really sure if you were trying to convince her or yourself.

Natasha exhaled, her tone softening. “I mean it, babe. Stop overthinking. You’ve got this, alright? I’ll even send coffee to your office so you’re not a grumpy mess when Dean picks you up later.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite everything. “Thanks, Nat.”

“Anytime, babe,” she said, her voice warm. “Now, go crush your day. I’ll see you tonight.”

You ended the call, slipping your phone back into your pocket. Bucky was still there, sipping his coffee, his eyes lingering on you like he was waiting for you to say something.

But you didn’t. Instead, you turned and walked out of the café, the knot in your stomach tightening. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, tonight wasn’t just about Dean meeting your friends.

It was about seeing Bucky again—about facing whatever was still left unsaid between you.

The hours ticked by painfully slow. You’d spent the morning buried in paperwork, but your mind was far from focused. Every time you tried to concentrate, your thoughts drifted to tonight—Dean, your friends, and most of all, Bucky.

By lunchtime, you were more than ready for a break. You pulled out your phone and opened the group chat with Wanda and Natasha.

Natasha: How’s work?

You: Dragging. Can’t believe it’s only lunchtime.

Wanda: That bad, huh?

You: Yeah, but at least I have tonight to look forward to… right?

Natasha: Exactly! You’ve got this, babe. Everyone’s gonna love Dean.

Wanda: Especially after we interrogate him, obviously.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your shoulders relaxing slightly.

You: Please be gentle. He’s nice, I promise.

Natasha: Nice doesn’t cut it. He’s gotta be great if he’s dating you ;)

Wanda: Agreed!!! <3But don’t worry, we’ll be on our best behavior. Sort of....

You rolled your eyes and switched over to your chat with Sam and Steve.

You: How’s the day going for you guys?

Sam: Busy as hell. Just got out of a meeting and I’m already over it.

Steve: Same here. But at least it’s Friday.

You: True. You both coming tonight, right?

Sam: Wouldn’t miss it. Ive been thinking about hot wings all damn day.

Steve: Of course. Wouldn’t want to miss meeting Dean…

You paused for a moment, then typed:

You: Thanks, guys. I know it’s weird with everything going on, but I appreciate it.

Sam: Hey, we’re family. No matter what, we’ve got your back.

Steve: Exactly. You’re stuck with us :)

The warm reassurance from your friends eased some of the anxiety that had been building all morning. You set your phone down, took a deep breath, and tried to refocus on your work.

But even as you typed away at your computer, your mind kept circling back to one thing: how tonight would change everything.

You were about to set your phone down when a familiar name caught your eye in the messages list: Bucky.

Your heart stopped. Beside his name, a small gray bubble appeared, the telltale sign that he was typing.

You stared at the screen, your breath hitching. He was going to say something. Maybe something important. Maybe—finally.

The bubble lingered for a moment, and you held your breath, waiting. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

No message.

Your heart stuttered, a sharp pang in your chest as you watched the screen, hoping the bubble would return. But it didn’t.

You blinked, trying to shake the feeling. Why now? Why would he start typing and not send anything? You bit your lip, your mind racing. Was he going to apologize? Say something about tonight? Or was it just another reminder of the messy, tangled connection between you two?

You let out a shaky breath, locking your phone and setting it down on your desk. But the damage was done. The small flicker of hope—unwelcome but undeniable—had lodged itself firmly in your chest, refusing to be ignored.

Even when you forced yourself to get back to work, your mind kept drifting to that empty chat bubble.

The end of the workday couldn’t have come fast enough. By the time you got home, Natasha and Wanda were already at your apartment, rifling through your closet and chattering like old times. It was grounding in a way—familiar, comforting, a temporary balm for your nerves.

“Okay,” Wanda said, holding up a soft cream sweater. “This. It’s casual but still shows you put in effort.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Pair it with those high-waisted jeans and your ankle boots. Perfect mix of cozy and hot.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Cozy and hot? Is that what we’re going for?”

“Yes,” Natasha said firmly. “You’re seeing Dean, but you’re also seeing Bucky for the first time since… everything. You want to feel confident.”

You sighed, letting them guide you. Once you were dressed, Wanda pulled out a simple necklace while Natasha fixed your hair into loose waves. The whole process was lighthearted, filled with little jokes and the kind of banter that made you forget, even for a moment, about the knot in your stomach.

When you were finally ready, Natasha gave you an approving nod. “Okay, you’re perfect. Wanda and I are gonna head to the bar now, give you and Dean a little entrance moment.”

“Thanks,” you said, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “You said the guys are already there?”

Natasha hesitated for a beat, then nodded. “Yeah. Bucky’s there too. That okay?”

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral. “That’s fine. I mean, he’s part of the group, right? And I said I want things to be normal again.”

Natasha gave you a searching look. “If you change your mind, say the word, and I’ll drag him out so fast his head will spin.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s fine. Really. Better to see him with everyone else around. He’s part of us, part of me. Gotta get it over with, right?”

Natasha’s eyes softened, and she pulled you into a hug. “You’re stronger than you think, you know that?”

Wanda joined in, squeezing you tight. “We’ve got you,” she said with a warm smile. “Always.”

“See you in a minute,” Natasha said with a wink before they left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The quiet settled over the apartment as you paced for a moment, nerves bubbling to the surface. Your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly.

Dean: Hey :-) I’m downstairs whenever you’re ready.

You checked yourself one last time in the mirror, smoothing your sweater and adjusting your necklace. Then you grabbed your bag and headed out. As you stepped into the elevator, another message came through.

Natasha: He seems to be in good spirits. Gave me a hug and everything. It’s gonna be okay… Oh, by the way, he doesn’t know about you bringing Dean. Sam pulled me aside when I got here.

You stared at the message, your stomach twisting.

You: Great.

Shoving your phone into your bag, you took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened. Time to face the night.

As you stepped out of your apartment building, you spotted Dean leaning casually against his car, his hands in his pockets. He looked effortlessly handsome in a dark denim jacket and a simple black shirt. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft but laced with excitement. “You look amazing.”

You felt your cheeks flush slightly. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger door for you before you had a chance to protest. “Ready for this?”

You took a deep breath, glancing at him as you got in. “Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The ride to the bar was short, filled with light conversation and the kind of laughter that made you momentarily forget your nerves. But as you neared your destination, Dean’s tone shifted, becoming more thoughtful.

“So,” he began, glancing over at you at a red light, “anything I should know? You know, to make a killer first impression with your friends?”

You laughed softly, appreciating his effort. “Well, they’re all pretty easygoing… but they’re also insanely protective.”

“Noted,” Dean said, smirking. “Who should I be most worried about?”

You hesitated, your mind immediately going to Bucky. But you didn’t want to say his name just yet. “Natasha,” you said instead, half-joking. “She can be… intense. But it comes from a good place but im sure you already know that”

Dean nodded, clearly taking mental notes. “Got it. Be charming but not too charming.”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling. “Wanda’s super sweet, so you’re safe there. Sam’s a joker, so if he starts teasing you, it’s a good sign. And Steve… well, Steve’s like the group’s moral compass. If he likes you, you’re golden.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “Sounds like a solid group.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Something like that.”

As you pulled up to the bar, the knot in your stomach tightened again. Dean must have sensed it because he reached over, his hand resting lightly on yours. “Hey,” he said softly. “Relax. It’ll be fine. And if it’s not, we’ll just make a run for it.”

You chuckled despite yourself, squeezing his hand. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Anytime,” he said with a wink as he parked the car.

The two of you stepped out, and as you approached the bar’s entrance, your heart started to pound. The familiar sounds of laughter and music spilled out onto the street, and you could already see your friends gathered at your usual corner table. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Dean held the door open for you, his expression calm and confident. “Let’s do this.”

The moment you and Dean walked into the bar, your eyes immediately found your usual booth. Sam, facing the door, was the first to notice you. His grin widened, and he nudged Steve beside him. Both men stood as Sam made his way toward you.

“Hey! Look who’s finally here,” Sam called out, pulling you into a warm, familiar hug. “You didn’t get lost, did you?”

You laughed. “You wish, Wilson.”

As Sam stepped back, Steve was right there, his soft smile as steady as ever. “You look great,” he said, pulling you in for a quick, friendly hug.

“Thanks, Stevie.” You tried to keep your voice light, but his comforting presence was already easing your nerves.

Dean extended his hand to Sam, his posture relaxed but confident. “Sam, right? It’s great to meet you. Y/N’s told me all about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Sam said, shaking Dean’s hand with a grin. “Sam Wilson, resident funnyman.”

Dean chuckled. “Only the best things. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“And I’m Steve,” Steve chimed in, extending his hand after Sam stepped aside. “Glad you could join us.”

“Likewise,” Dean replied, shaking Steve’s hand firmly. “Y/N’s been hyping this place up.”

After Dean waved at Natasha, who gave him a knowing smirk, and shook hands with Wanda, your focus inevitably drifted to the end of the booth. Bucky sat there, his back to you, his head slightly down as he sipped his drink. The sight of him made your chest tighten, and you hesitated for a split second before Dean spoke again.

“Hey,” Dean said, extending his hand toward Bucky. “You must be Bucky.”

Slowly, Bucky turned, his blue eyes locking onto yours for a brief, intense moment before shifting to Dean. His jaw clenched, and after a pause, he stood and shook Dean’s hand. His grip was firm, deliberate.

“Bucky,” he said, his voice low and measured.

Dean smiled, unfazed. “Nice to meet you. Y/N’s told me you two go way back.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to you, then back to Dean. “Yeah. Something like that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even after he sat back down. Dean slid into the booth beside you as everyone shuffled to make room. Now, it was Natasha next to Wanda, then Steve, Sam, and finally you and Dean, directly across from Bucky.

The waiter came by to take your drink orders, and the usual buzz of conversation began. Sam, ever the storyteller, launched into a tale about his latest misadventure at the VA, complete with exaggerated gestures and dramatic pauses. Laughter erupted around the table, even from Dean, who seemed to be settling in easily.

Everyone, that is, except Bucky.

He sat back in his seat, his drink in hand, his gaze sharp but distant. Every so often, you felt his eyes on you, a heavy, unspoken tension lingering between the two of you. It wasn’t lost on Dean, who kept glancing between you and Bucky, his curiosity evident but unspoken.

“So, Dean,” Sam said, leaning forward. “What’s it like working with Nat?”

Dean grinned. “It’s great. She’s a force to be reckoned with. Keeps everyone on their toes.”

Natasha raised her glass with a smirk. “Damn right I do.”

“And what exactly do you do again?” Steve asked, his interest genuine.

“Security consulting,” Dean replied. “Risk assessment, crisis management, stuff like that.”

Sam nodded appreciatively. “Sounds badass.”

Dean chuckled. “It can be. Keeps me on my toes, for sure.”

Dean then turned to Bucky, clearly making an effort to include him. “And you, Bucky? Y/N mentioned you both work in publishing.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened around his glass as he gave a short nod. “Yeah. Reviewing manuscripts, editing, making sure everything’s ready for print.”

Dean nodded, his tone still friendly. “That’s awesome. Must be great working alongside your best friend.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, and his eyes briefly met yours again. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s… something.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and you felt your stomach twist. Dean, sensing the tension, tried to steer the conversation back on track, but before he could, Bucky abruptly stood, grabbing his empty glass.

“Be right back,” he muttered, heading toward the bar without another word.

You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you forced yourself to focus on the laughter and conversation around you, even as your thoughts remained with Bucky.

The laughter at the table was infectious, the kind that made your cheeks hurt. Sam was recounting some ridiculous story about a mishap at work, complete with exaggerated impressions of his coworkers. Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop giggling, and even Wanda had to wipe away a tear from laughing so hard.

You tried to stay present, chiming in here and there, but your eyes kept drifting toward the bar. Bucky was leaning against it, nursing another drink, his back to the room. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell—even from this distance—that he was deep in thought.

Steve, ever perceptive, caught your glance. He gave you a subtle look, raising an eyebrow as if to say Want me to check on him?

You hesitated, then gave him a small, grateful smile. Steve nodded, sliding out of the booth with ease.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said casually, patting Sam on the shoulder as he passed. “Don’t let them order wings without me.”

“Not making any promises,” Sam called after him, grinning.

Steve made his way to the bar, his presence steady as always. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he approached Bucky, leaning on the bar beside him. Their conversation started low, and Bucky glanced over his shoulder briefly, his expression unreadable.

Natasha leaned over, nudging you playfully. “You okay, babe? You seem a little… distracted.”

You blinked, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… you know, first time bringing someone into the group. Kinda nerve-wracking.”

Dean, catching the tail end of your comment, smiled warmly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Everyone’s been great so far. I mean, Sam’s a riot.”

Sam raised his glass. “Damn right I am.”

“And Wanda,” Dean continued, gesturing toward her, “she’s been keeping me on my toes with all her quick-witted remarks.”

Wanda smirked. “Gotta make sure you can keep up, Dean.”

The table laughed, and for a moment, you felt a little lighter. But your eyes drifted back toward the bar. Steve was saying something to Bucky, his tone calm but firm. Bucky looked down at his drink, his jaw clenched.

Natasha followed your gaze, her smile fading slightly. “They’ll be fine,” she said quietly, her voice just for you. “Bucky needs to cool off, and Steve knows how to handle him.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink to steady yourself. “Yeah. I know.”

At the bar, Steve leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Alright, Buck. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Bucky sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Nothing. Just needed a breather.”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Steve said, his tone gentle but probing. “You’ve been brooding since they walked in.”

Bucky scoffed, shooting him a sideways glance. “Didn’t know you were the feelings police, Rogers.”

Steve chuckled softly. “You know me, always looking out for my friends.”

Bucky didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the counter. After a moment, he muttered, “It’s weird seeing her with him.”

Steve nodded, keeping his tone neutral. “Yeah, I figured. But she seems happy.”

Bucky’s grip on his glass tightened slightly. “I know. That’s the problem.”

Steve tilted his head. “You want her to be happy, right?”

“Of course I do,” Bucky said quickly, his voice a little too sharp. “It’s just… he’s not one of us. He doesn’t get her the way we do.”

Steve studied him for a moment, then said, “Buck, if you’ve got something to say to her, you can’t keep waiting for the perfect moment. Life doesn’t work like that. Trust me i know" He smiled sadly.

Bucky’s eyes flicked toward the table, where you were laughing with Sam and Natasha. His expression softened, but there was still a weight behind his gaze. “Yeah… maybe.”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Just think about it, alright? And if you need to vent, you know where to find me.”

Bucky nodded, finishing the last of his drink. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Anytime,” Steve replied, standing upright. “Now, come back to the table before Sam eats all the wings.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle, setting his glass down. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

As the two of them returned, the dynamic shifted slightly. Bucky slid back into his spot next to Wanda, his demeanor a little more relaxed. You caught his eye briefly, and though neither of you said anything, the tension seemed to ease just a bit.

Steve slid in next to Sam, who immediately started teasing him about missing the best part of the story. Dean, oblivious to the undercurrents, leaned in toward you, his hand resting lightly on your knee beneath the table. “See?” he whispered. “Told you this would go well.”

You smiled, hoping he couldn’t sense the turmoil still swirling beneath the surface. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It’s going great.”

The table was a flurry of activity as the wings arrived, piled high on multiple platters. Everyone dove in with gusto, the smell of tangy barbecue and spicy buffalo sauce filling the air. Drinks were refilled, and the conversation flowed easily.

Sam leaned back, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Man, I’ve been waiting all week for this.”

Natasha smirked. “Yeah, well, don’t eat too fast. We’ve got plenty of time to enjoy it.”

Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “I can see why this is a regular thing for you guys. It’s nice.”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of the familiar setting, even with the subtle tension still lingering under the surface. Everyone seemed to be making an effort to keep things light, and for the most part, it was working.

A few drinks later, as the laughter died down for a moment, Dean glanced around the table, his curiosity piqued. “So,” he began, his tone casual, “is anyone else seeing anyone? Or is this the final group count?”

The question lingered in the air, and you noticed a subtle shift in energy. Wanda raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as she reached for her drink.

“Well,” Sam said, grinning, “I’m playing the field. Gotta keep my options open, you know?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “By ‘playing the field,’ he means he’s been flirting with the bartender at our usual spot for months and hasn’t made a move.”

Sam held up a finger. “Hey, I’m working on it.”

Everyone chuckled, and Dean turned his attention to Wanda. “What about you, Wanda? Anyone special?”

Wanda shook her head, a soft smile on her face. “Nope. Too busy trying to keep my plants alive.”

Dean laughed. “Fair enough.”

He looked over at Steve next. “And you, Steve? Got someone in your life?”

Steve, who had been quietly nursing his drink, looked up, his expression calm but unreadable. “Not at the moment, got some stuff to sort through” he said simply, his eyes flicking briefly to you before he focused back on his glass. “Just focusing on work.”

Dean nodded, clearly not picking up on the subtext. “Makes sense. You seem like the kind of guy who’s got his priorities straight.”

Steve gave a small smile, but he didn’t respond, his fingers tapping lightly against the side of his glass.

Finally, Dean’s gaze landed on Bucky, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, mostly focusing on his food. “What about you, Bucky? Anyone special?”

The table fell silent for a beat too long. Bucky set down his wing, wiping his hands deliberately as he leaned back in his seat. His expression was neutral, but his jaw tightened slightly. “Nope,” he said, his voice clipped. “No one.”

Dean, oblivious to the tension, smiled. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours for the briefest moment before he shrugged. “Guess I’m just picky.”

Natasha snorted into her drink, and Sam quickly covered a laugh with a cough. You felt your cheeks heat up and reached for your own drink to hide your reaction.

“Well,” Dean said, clearly trying to keep the conversation light, “picky’s not a bad thing. Just means you know what you want.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his gaze fixed firmly on his plate. The silence stretched, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Sensing the awkwardness, Sam jumped in, raising his glass. “Alright, enough about our love lives. Let’s toast to Friday nights, good food, and even better company.”

Everyone raised their glasses, and the moment passed, but you couldn’t help the way your heart raced every time Bucky’s eyes drifted in your direction, even if only for a second.

The bar was bustling, the low hum of music and chatter creating a comforting buzz as you waited for the bartender to line up the shots. You were trying to focus on the drinks, the simple act of getting them back to your friends, but your thoughts kept drifting—Dean’s question about relationships, the tense exchange between Bucky and him, and now, the weight of Bucky’s silence.

You felt him before you saw him, his presence unmistakable as he slid up beside you, leaning on the bar. His scent—faint cologne mixed with something distinctly him—sent a rush of memories flooding back. You glanced up, but he didn’t say anything at first, just watched as you picked up the first tray of shots.

“Need help?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You gave him a small smile, trying to keep things light. “No, it’s okay. I got it. Thanks, though, Buck.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening slightly as he shifted his weight. But then, after a beat of silence, he spoke again, his tone more serious. “He’s not right for you.”

The words hit you like a jolt, and you froze, your hand hovering over the next tray. Slowly, you turned to face him, your brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief. “What?”

Bucky’s blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and pleading. “Dean. He’s not right for you.”

You let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. “And how exactly would you know what’s right for me, Bucky?”

“I just… I know,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “You think he gets you? Think he knows you?”

Your chest tightened, the familiar ache surfacing. “That’s not fair, its new-- im trying,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Bucky’s hand clenched on the bar, his knuckles whitening. “You think I don’t see it? The way he looks at you? Like he’s just waiting for the right moment to get what he wants, its like Mike all over again…But it’s not real. Not like—”

You froze “Don’t you bring that up James.." Your voice low "And not like what?” you shot back, your voice sharper now. “Not like us? Newsflash, Bucky: there is no ‘us.’ You made damn sure of that.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. “You act like you’re the only one hurting,” he finally said, his voice low but cutting. “But you’re not. You hurt people too!”

Your heart sank, your throat tightening. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered, his frustration giving way to something rawer. “You hurt me, you have been for years! You just dont see it...” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And you hurt Steve.”

“Steve?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. “What about Steve?” You mind reeled back to how off he’s been lately.

Bucky let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed. He’s been madly in love with you for years, and you just… what? Pretend not to see it? You think that doesn’t hurt him?”

The weight of his words hit you like a freight train, and your eyes instinctively darted across the bar. Natasha and Steve were standing together, both of them looking your way. Natasha’s gaze was sharp, assessing, while Steve’s was softer, a mix of concern and something deeper. Your stomach twisted as you saw the truth written plainly on his face, a truth you’d somehow managed to ignore until now.

You turned back to Bucky, your voice trembling. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

His face fell, a flicker of pain crossing his features, but he didn’t say anything. You grabbed the tray of shots, your hands shaking as you carried it back to the table. Natasha’s eyes followed you the whole way, and Steve’s expression shifted into something unreadable as you set the tray down in front of them.

Dean grinned, oblivious to the storm brewing. “Finally! Thought you got lost at the bar.”

You forced a smile, sliding into the booth beside him as you handed out the drinks. “Just took a little longer than expected.”

Natasha shot you a questioning look, but you shook your head subtly, letting her know now wasn’t the time. As the group raised their glasses in a toast, your eyes flickered back to the bar, where Bucky still stood, watching you with a look that sent a fresh wave of heartache crashing over you.

Summer before Senior year

The summer heat clung to the air, thick and stifling, as Bucky sat on the porch steps of Steve's house, bouncing his leg anxiously. He'd been quiet for most of the afternoon, his thoughts circling like a storm, the tension building with every passing minute.

Steve leaned against the railing, arms crossed as he watched his best friend brood. Finally, he sighed, breaking the silence. "Come on, Buck. When are you gonna go talk to her?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "Why does it have to be me first? She's the one who walked away."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, you didn't exactly give her a reason to stay. You basically pushed her away"

Bucky's head snapped up, his blue eyes filled with frustration. "I told her the truth, Steve. I warned her about Mike, and she didn't listen, if he breaks her heart thats her problem not mine."

Steve pushed off the railing, stepping closer. "You think this is just about Mike? Buck, she's hurting. And trust me....she needs you."

Bucky scoffed, his tone defensive. "If she needed me so bad, she'd be here."

Steve exhaled sharply, clearly losing patience. "She's not here because she's scared, because she feels alone, and because she thinks you don't care anymore."

Bucky's throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze falling to the ground. "I can't believe she went out with him," he muttered, more to himself than to Steve. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "That guy's a piece of shit."

Steve stepped closer, his voice low but firm. "Bucky...She...they..."

Bucky's head shot up, his eyes wide with realization. "She..?"

Steve nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah. And he just left her there."

The weight of Steve's words hit Bucky like a punch to the gut. His mind raced, his chest tightened as anger and guilt warred within him.

"Where?" Bucky asked, his voice low, almost a growl. "Where did he leave her?"

Steve hesitated, then said, "The cliff."

Bucky didn't wait for another word. He bolted from the porch, his heart pounding as he made a beeline for your house. His feet pounded against the pavement, but before he reached your street, something caught his eye in the open field nearby. A group of guys were playing flag football, laughing and shouting-and among them was Mike.

Bucky's blood boiled as he altered his course, heading straight for the field. The laughter died down when the players noticed him, their gazes shifting uneasily.

"Hey, Buck," one of them called, wary. "What's up, man?"

Bucky ignored him, his focus solely on Mike, who stood in the middle of the group, smirking as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"What do you want, Barnes?" Mike asked, cocky as ever.

Bucky didn't answer. He just strode forward and, without hesitation, drove his fist directly into Mike's face. The sickening crunch of bone and cartilage echoed as Mike stumbled back, blood immediately streaming from his nose.

"Stay the fuck away from her," Bucky growled, his voice dangerously low.

Mike wiped the blood from his face, grinning like a maniac despite the pain. "What's the matter, Barnes? Mad I deflowered your girl? Because you were too pussy to do it yourself?"

Bucky's vision went red. He punched Mike again, harder this time, sending him sprawling to the ground. The other guys started to step in, but one glare from Bucky had them backing off.

Mike groaned, but he still laughed, his teeth stained red. "She tasted so sweet," he sneered, his voice taunting. "So tight. A perfect little notch on my belt. She was desperate for it, practically begging-"

Bucky didn't let him finish. He turned on his heel and sprinted toward your house, his heart thundering in his chest. His mind raced with fury and panic, the image of you sitting alone at the cliff, broken and hurting, driving him forward.

He had to get to you. He had to make this right.

The bar buzzed with laughter and music, the energy high as your group settled deeper into the booth. Drinks flowed, wings were shared, and the conversation had turned to teasing stories from the past. You felt the warmth of familiarity, even with the slight tension still lingering from earlier.

Dean excused himself to take a phone call, offering you a soft smile before stepping toward the back exit. You watched him go, feeling the comfort of his steady presence, even as your thoughts wandered to Bucky. He’d been quiet all night, his usual sharp wit dulled by whatever storm was brewing inside him..

Needing a moment, Bucky stood, stretching as he made his way toward the bathroom. He passed the back exit and froze when he heard Dean’s voice, low and smooth, just around the corner.

As he made his way toward the bathroom, Bucky caught sight of Dean. He hesitated, the urge to confront gnawing at him, but he kept walking—until Dean glanced up and caught his eye.

“Bucky,” Dean said with a slight smirk, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You following me now?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t realize I needed to. Just taking a walk.”

Dean leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms. “You’ve been watching us all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah? And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean chuckled, his tone light but pointed. “It means you’re not exactly subtle, man. You’ve got this look every time she laughs at something I say, like you’re ready to tear me apart. Jealous much?”

Bucky took a step closer, his voice low. “Maybe I just don’t think you’re good enough for her.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. “That so? Funny, because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m the one who’s actually here for her. You had your chance from what i’ve seen, and you blew it. That’s not on me.”

Bucky’s chest tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t know a damn thing about me or her.”

Dean’s smirk faded slightly, his tone dropping. “I know you’re hung up on her. And I know she deserves someone who’s all in, not someone who’s just been dragging her through the mud for years because he’s too scared to step up.”

Bucky’s blood boiled. “You think you know what she needs?” he growled, stepping even closer. “You don’t know half of what we’ve been through.”

Dean shrugged, his expression calm but unyielding. “Maybe not. But I do know this: I’m here now, and you’re just a guy at the bar, staring like you’re waiting for permission to act.” He straightened, his gaze sharp. “She’s amazing. She deserves more than being someone’s regret.”

That did it.

Before Dean could react, Bucky’s fist connected with his jaw in a swift, hard punch. Dean stumbled back, holding his face, but his composure didn’t falter long. He let out a humourless laugh, wiping his mouth as he straightened.

“Well, that’s one way to admit you’re still in love with her,” Dean said, his tone sharp but surprisingly calm. “Too bad you’re a little late.”

Bucky took another step forward, but Dean held up a hand. “I’m not doing this,” he said firmly. “You’ve got your own demons to sort out, Bucky. Don’t make her collateral damage.”

With that, Dean turned and walked back toward the table, leaving Bucky seething in his wake.

Dean leaned against the table, his face composed but red blooming across his jaw. Natasha’s eyes narrowed immediately, her gaze darting between Dean and the direction of the bar. “What the hell happened?”

Dean exhaled, tilting his head slightly as if trying to shake off the impact. “Your buddy hit me.”

You choked on your drink, eyes wide in disbelief as Sam quickly leaned over, patting your back. “What?” you managed to get out, your voice hoarse with shock.

Dean nodded, glancing around the table, his eyes lingering on Natasha before meeting yours. “Yeah. He’s got a hell of a right hook.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “That idiot,” she muttered, already pushing to get out of the booth.

Dean raised a hand to stop her. “No need to escalate. It’s handled.” He looked at you, his expression softening. “Can we talk for a second?”

You blinked, still processing what just happened, but you nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

The others watched as you slid out of the booth, your gaze flicking toward the bar. Bucky stood there now with Sam and Steve, both of whom were leaning in, their expressions serious as they talked to him. Bucky’s shoulders were tense, his head tilted down like he was bracing himself.

You turned away and followed Dean outside.

The cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the warmth and chaos inside. Dean led you a few steps away from the entrance, giving you both a semblance of privacy. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes soft but resolute as he turned to face you.

“Look,” he began, his tone gentle. “You’re incredible. You’re smart, funny, beautiful—everything any guy could want.”

Your heart sank at the way his voice carried a finality you weren’t ready for. “Dean—”

He shook his head, giving you a small, sad smile. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want drama. I don’t want fights and complications. And as much as I like you, I can’t ignore what I saw tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, though deep down, you already knew.

Dean’s eyes searched yours, his voice soft but firm. “You and Bucky. Whatever it is between you two… it’s not going away. I can see it in the way he looks at you. Hell, I can see it in the way you look at him, even if you don’t realize it.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt the sting of tears threatening to surface. “Dean, I—”

He shook his head again, this time with a sad chuckle. “It’s okay. I get it. But I can’t be someone’s second choice—not when I’m putting them first.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and unyielding. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. What could you say? He was right, and deep down, you both knew it.

Dean reached out, his hand gentle as he cupped your cheek. “You deserve to figure out what you really want without me in the middle of it.”

You nodded, the tears finally spilling over. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled softly, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your forehead. “Don’t be. I’m glad we met.” He stepped back, his hand slipping away. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, unable to speak as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing down the street.

You stood outside for a moment, trying to collect yourself. When you finally re-entered the bar, the weight of Dean’s words still lingered heavily on your heart. The noise hit you again, but all you could focus on was the booth where your friends sat. Natasha and Wanda were deep in conversation, their eyes occasionally darting toward you.

Sam and Steve were still by the bar with Bucky. Sam’s hands were on Bucky’s shoulders, clearly trying to talk him down, while Steve glanced toward you, his expression unreadable.

Your legs felt like lead as you walked back toward the booth, the reality of the night sinking in.

This wasn’t just about Dean leaving. This was about everything that had been building for years. And now, it was all unraveling.

You returned to the table with heavy steps, the weight of the night pressing down on you. Everyone’s conversation fell silent as you approached. Without a word, you sat down, grabbing your nearly empty glass and downing the last of it. Then, you reached for the shot in front of you and knocked it back too, the burn barely registering.

The table was tense, eyes flicking between you and Bucky, who had just returned from the bar. His jaw was set, his arms crossed as he leaned against the booth, avoiding your gaze.

But you weren’t done. You grabbed Steve’s half-finished drink and swallowed it in one go, slamming the empty glass on the table. The tears started to well up, and you didn’t care who saw anymore.

Finally, you turned to Bucky, your voice shaking but steady. “How could you do this to me?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, wide with sadness and guilt, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your voice rose, breaking slightly as the tears began to stream down your face. “Why do you keep hurting me? For what, Bucky?! What do you get out of it?”

“Doll, I—” Bucky started, his voice low, but you cut him off.

“No! Don’t ‘doll’ me. I don’t get it! I don’t get you! You’re supposed to be my best friend, the person I can trust, but all you do is make me feel like this!” You gestured at your tear-streaked face, your chest heaving with the weight of your emotions. “And I can’t do this anymore. I can’t feel like this anymore!”

Bucky’s face was a mixture of hurt and panic, his mouth opening as if to say something, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat.

You stood abruptly, grabbing your bag, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I’m done, Bucky.” Your voice dropped to a near whisper, broken and raw. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Without giving him the chance to respond, you turned and stormed out of the bar, ignoring the concerned voices of your friends behind you. Natasha called your name, and you heard Sam mutter a curse under his breath, but none of it mattered. You pushed past the door and into the cool night air, the weight of everything crashing down on you as you kept walking, your tears blurring the city lights around you

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.2)

They are being mind-controled by a villain and they believe you cheated on them (Part.2)

A fog has settled between you, a cruel illusion woven by unseen hands. The X-Man, your beloved, now look at you with wounded eyes, twisted by whispers that cloud their trust.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney, Wade Wilson, Cable, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Magik, Warren Worthington III & Alex Summers

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda’s confrontation is intense and emotional. Her eyes, usually warm and full of understanding, are now filled with hurt and suspicion. Her voice trembles slightly as she asks if what she thinks is true, and there’s an undeniable sadness in her tone, like she’s bracing herself for heartbreak.

- As you try to explain, Wanda listens, but the doubt lingers in her expression. Wanda has always struggled with trust due to the betrayals she’s faced in her life, and now, the idea that you might have hurt her shatters her. Her hands tremble slightly, and though she wants to believe you, the pain of her past makes it hard for her to push away the doubts.

- Afterward, Wanda retreats, seeking solace in solitude. She’s always been somewhat withdrawn, and now, she pulls away even more, isolating herself to avoid the pain. Her magic, which usually feels so warm and comforting, now seems almost cold, mirroring the sadness she feels as she tries to process what she thinks happened.

- When the mind control is broken, Wanda is devastated by the realization of what’s happened. The guilt eats at her, and she’s furious at the villain for manipulating her, but even more so at herself for letting her insecurities get the better of her. She’s always prided herself on her intuition, and knowing she was so easily tricked leaves her feeling vulnerable and regretful.

- Wanda’s apology is soft but filled with genuine sorrow. She approaches you hesitantly, her voice quiet as she admits she was wrong. She reaches for your hand, her touch gentle as she asks for forgiveness, her gaze filled with a mixture of remorse and love. Wanda has always been open about her feelings, and now, she lays her heart bare, expressing just how much she regrets letting her trust falter.

- She promises to trust in you and your love, no matter what. Wanda’s emotions are strong, and as she apologizes, there’s a subtle shimmer of magic around her, a testament to just how much you mean to her. She looks at you with an intensity that makes it clear she’s determined to never let anyone or anything come between you again.

- When you forgive her, Wanda’s relief is palpable. She pulls you close, resting her forehead against yours as she lets out a shaky sigh, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. From that moment on, she’s even more open with her feelings, letting you know just how deeply she cares and vowing to protect your bond with everything she has.

- Pietro’s confrontation is brash and impulsive. His hurt comes out in quick, cutting words, his usual sarcasm edged with genuine pain. He paces back and forth as he questions you, his expression a mix of anger and heartbreak, moving too fast to give you much chance to speak as he lets out all his emotions.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- He’s known for his confidence and speed, but in this moment, he’s visibly shaken, his usual bravado replaced by an insecurity that’s rare for him. Pietro has always prided himself on being able to handle anything, but now, he feels vulnerable, and the thought of losing you makes him feel like he’s losing his sense of stability.

- After the confrontation, Pietro becomes distant, channeling his emotions into his speed as he tries to outrun the pain. He avoids being around others, especially you, not wanting anyone to see just how deeply this has affected him. He’s used to hiding his emotions behind a cocky exterior, but this time, the pain runs too deep to ignore.

- When the mind control finally fades, Pietro feels a flood of guilt and frustration. He’s furious with himself for having doubted you, and he hates that he let his own insecurities and fears get in the way. Pietro’s pride takes a hit, and he’s ashamed that he wasn’t strong enough to see through the manipulation.

- Pietro’s apology is awkward but heartfelt. He approaches you with a mix of vulnerability and determination, his voice softer than usual as he admits he was wrong. He fumbles over his words, clearly uncomfortable with showing so much emotion, but his sincerity is unmistakable as he promises to trust you more in the future.

- Taking a deep breath, Pietro reaches for your hand, his usually quick movements slow and deliberate as he asks for forgiveness. He’s not one for sappy speeches, but his eyes tell you everything you need to know. He admits that he cares about you more than he’s ever let on, and he promises to work on his insecurities.

- When you forgive him, Pietro lets out a relieved laugh, pulling you into a tight hug as he mutters his gratitude. He’s more protective of you than ever after that, and though he still teases and jokes, there’s a new depth to his affection, a quiet reminder of just how much he values your relationship and the love you share.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- When Emma confronts you about the supposed infidelity, her icy demeanor is as intimidating as ever. Her words are sharp, cutting straight to the point, but there’s an underlying tension in her voice. She keeps her emotions in check, almost painfully so, trying to hide the vulnerability that she rarely shows anyone. She looks at you with those piercing blue eyes, waiting for an explanation with a mixture of hurt and anger just below the surface.

- She listens to you defend yourself, but her trust has been shaken. Emma is the type to guard her heart closely, and betrayal—real or perceived—isn’t something she handles well. She says little, maintaining her cool exterior, but her occasional glances reveal how conflicted she is. She’s always valued her independence, yet letting you in was a risk for her, and now, she’s feeling painfully exposed.

- After the confrontation, Emma distances herself, throwing herself back into her work and responsibilities with the Hellfire Club. She avoids you around the mansion, her frosty exterior even colder than usual. Others notice the shift, sensing the tension, but no one dares approach her about it. Emma’s cold facade is her armor, and now it’s back up, stronger than ever, as she tries to suppress her pain.

- When the mind control is finally lifted, Emma’s reaction is one of immediate outrage. The very idea that someone would manipulate her mind—and cause her to doubt you—has her furious. Emma prides herself on her control and intellect, so the thought that she’d been tricked is almost unbearable. Her first instinct is vengeance, to hunt down whoever did this to her and make them pay.

- Despite her anger, Emma’s priority is making things right with you. She approaches you with an unusual level of humility, her words carefully chosen. She doesn’t apologize often, but when she does, it’s with genuine sincerity. Emma admits she made a mistake and expresses regret for doubting you, her voice softened in a way only you get to see.

- To make it up to you, Emma decides to spoil you—extravagantly. She’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but she buys you a thoughtful, luxurious gift, something only she would know you’d appreciate. It’s her way of showing you just how much she values you, and how determined she is to make things right.

- When you forgive her, Emma lets her guard down fully for the first time in days. She leans in close, her usually guarded eyes reflecting gratitude and warmth. She may not be the most affectionate partner, but she’s fully committed, showing you that behind her aloof demeanor lies a fiercely loyal heart that’s truly yours.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura’s reaction to the supposed betrayal is swift and intense. She confronts you with a mixture of anger and hurt, her fists clenched as she tries to make sense of her emotions. Her words are blunt, and she doesn’t hold back, but her voice wavers slightly, showing just how affected she is. Laura’s not used to trusting people, and this feels like a cruel reminder of why she usually keeps her guard up.

- As you try to explain, Laura listens, though she struggles to let go of her suspicions. She’s been betrayed before, and trust doesn’t come easy for her. She wants to believe you, but the hurt runs deep, making her wary and conflicted. Her normally calm, stoic demeanor is shaken, and she paces as she listens, her eyes flickering with a mix of doubt and frustration.

- After the confrontation, Laura distances herself emotionally, though she remains physically close, always keeping an eye on you. It’s almost instinctual—she wants to protect you, but the idea that you may have betrayed her leaves her torn. Her heart and mind are at odds, and it shows in her actions, as she hovers nearby but remains silent and withdrawn.

- When the mind control wears off, Laura’s relief is palpable, though she’s furious with herself for being so easily deceived. The knowledge that someone manipulated her emotions—and made her doubt you—is infuriating, and she immediately wants to track down the person responsible. Laura doesn’t take kindly to being used, especially when it nearly cost her the one person she trusts.

- Laura’s apology is sincere, though it’s more action than words. She isn’t the type for lengthy explanations, so instead, she approaches you with a quiet but intense look in her eyes, admitting that she made a mistake. She doesn’t sugarcoat it, but her regret is clear, and she promises she’ll never let herself be manipulated like that again.

- To make up for her suspicion, Laura becomes even more attentive than before, always making sure you feel safe and valued. She’s not overly affectionate, but her loyalty speaks volumes, and she finds subtle ways to show you she’s sorry—small, thoughtful gestures that only you would notice, like leaving your favorite snack on the counter or a note in your bag.

- When you forgive her, Laura’s expression softens, a rare, genuine smile appearing as she pulls you into a tight embrace. She may not say much, but her actions speak louder than words, and from that moment on, her commitment to you is unwavering. Laura becomes even more protective, ensuring that nothing and no one will come between you again.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- When Wade confronts you, he does it in true Deadpool style—his humor twisted by hurt. He cracks jokes, sarcastically accusing you of breaking his “poor little heart,” but there’s a subtle tremor in his voice and a flicker of genuine pain in his gaze. Wade hides behind his humor, but you know he’s deeply affected, feeling as if he’s been betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust.

- Despite his nonchalant attitude, Wade can’t stop himself from questioning every detail. He wants to believe you, but his insecurities and self-doubt make it hard. Wade’s used to expecting the worst, and now, the hurt has him spiraling, throwing out quips to mask how shattered he really feels inside.

- After the confrontation, Wade retreats into his own little world of chaos. He tries to distract himself with missions and relentless banter, but his usual jokes are emptier, his antics a bit too forced. He even goes on a few particularly reckless mercenary runs, pushing his healing factor to the limit, as if the physical pain can somehow replace the heartache he’s feeling.

- When the mind control finally breaks, Wade’s relief quickly turns to outrage. He’s furious—not just at the villain who manipulated him, but at himself for having doubted you. He kicks himself for being so easily tricked, feeling guilty for not trusting the one good thing in his life. He’s conflicted, torn between his self-loathing and the overwhelming need to make things right with you.

- Wade’s apology is chaotic, honest, and full of unexpected vulnerability. He doesn’t hold back, admitting that he screwed up and that his own insecurities got in the way. He babbles, half-joking, half-pleading, but his tone is genuinely remorseful as he promises to be better, to trust you more, even if it terrifies him.

- True to his unpredictable nature, Wade tries to win back your trust with grand gestures—flowers, chocolates, and a dozen over-the-top apologies. He even considers giving up his mercenary work, just to prove how much he cares. When he finally manages to get a genuine smile from you, he relaxes, grateful beyond words that you’re willing to give him another chance.

- After you forgive him, Wade clings to you like you’re his lifeline, throwing his usual bravado aside to show just how much he values you. He’s more attentive, less reckless, and endlessly affectionate, going out of his way to remind you that you’re the one thing he’d never want to lose again.

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s confrontation is intense and direct. He’s a soldier, used to facing problems head-on, but the hurt in his eyes is undeniable. He’s known hardship and loss, but this betrayal feels different—it’s personal, shaking him to his core. He stands before you, demanding answers, his voice steady yet laced with pain as he struggles to understand how someone he trusted so completely could hurt him.

- As you try to explain, Cable listens carefully, his expression unreadable. He’s torn between his instinct to believe you and the painful doubts clouding his judgment. Nathan’s experienced countless betrayals, and though he wants to believe in your loyalty, his hardened heart finds it difficult to ignore the wounds of his past.

- After the confrontation, Cable distances himself, throwing himself into work and mission planning to try and suppress the heartache. He becomes more stoic than ever, his interactions with others becoming brief and guarded. It’s clear he’s struggling to process his emotions, channeling his pain into his responsibilities, as if keeping busy will help numb the hurt.

- When the mind control finally fades, Cable’s first reaction is disbelief. The realization that he’s been manipulated into doubting you fills him with guilt and anger. He’s furious with himself for allowing his trust issues to cloud his judgment, and he feels an overwhelming need to make amends, knowing he’s hurt you by doubting you.

- Cable’s apology is calm but deeply sincere. He sits down with you, looking directly into your eyes as he admits his mistake, his voice heavy with regret. Nathan may be a man of few words, but every word he speaks is laced with genuine remorse. He’s always been strong, but now he shows his vulnerability, admitting that his past has made him wary and that he let that fear hurt you.

- He takes your hand, promising to work through his trust issues and to rely on you more, no matter how difficult it may be for him. He vows to let down his walls, determined to prove to you that he values your relationship above all else. Nathan’s sincerity is palpable, his gaze intense as he promises to never let his doubts come between you again.

- When you forgive him, Cable relaxes visibly, a rare, soft smile breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. He pulls you close, holding you tightly as if he never wants to let go. From that moment on, he’s fiercely protective of you, and his love for you becomes even more unwavering and resolute, a quiet but profound promise to always have your back.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank’s confrontation is quiet and heart-wrenching. He’s not one for loud accusations, but the hurt in his eyes speaks volumes. His usually gentle voice is filled with sorrow as he asks if what he’s heard is true, his words careful and almost hesitant, as if he’s hoping you’ll tell him it’s all a misunderstanding.

- He’s always been logical, trusting in reason and facts, but now, his emotions are in turmoil. Hank’s soft-hearted nature makes it all the more painful for him to imagine that you might have betrayed his trust. He’s devastated, and though he tries to remain calm, the sadness in his expression is impossible to hide.

- Afterward, Hank withdraws into his work, spending long hours in his lab to avoid facing the hurt he feels. He buries himself in scientific research, hoping that focusing on his experiments will distract him from the ache in his heart. His usually vibrant spirit seems dimmed, and even his closest friends notice that the ever-optimistic Hank has become more somber and distant.

- When the mind control finally fades, Hank feels a wave of relief and regret. Realizing he’s been tricked, he’s angry at the villain who manipulated him, but even more so, he’s frustrated with himself for allowing his emotions to cloud his usually rational mind. He’s always prided himself on his logical approach, and knowing he was so easily swayed shakes him deeply.

- Hank’s apology is heartfelt and filled with remorse. He approaches you with humility, his usual eloquence replaced by genuine vulnerability as he confesses his regret. He’s gentle, his voice soft and sincere as he explains how much he values you and how sorry he is for not trusting you. His words are thoughtful and carefully chosen, reflecting just how deeply he’s thought about the situation.

- He promises to trust you more fully in the future, vowing to work through his insecurities and to rely on you as much as he knows you rely on him. Hank’s sincerity shines through, his intelligent eyes filled with warmth and determination as he assures you that he’ll never let his doubts hurt your relationship again.

- When you forgive him, Hank’s relief is evident. He wraps you in a warm embrace, his usually calm demeanor breaking as he lets out a shaky breath, grateful beyond words. From that moment on, he’s even more devoted to you, cherishing every moment and finding ways to remind you daily of his love and appreciation for your unwavering support.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr’s confrontation is heartbreaking, as his usual gentle nature is clouded by sadness and disbelief. He doesn’t accuse you outright but instead asks, his voice quiet and tinged with hurt, if what he’s heard is true. Piotr’s sensitive soul is deeply shaken, and the idea that you might have betrayed his trust has him visibly distressed, though he tries to remain composed.

- He listens as you explain, nodding but clearly struggling to reconcile his love for you with the doubts planted in his mind. Piotr’s always been a trusting, loving person, but his heart feels heavy as he wrestles with his emotions. He doesn’t want to believe you’d hurt him, yet the doubt lingers, leaving him feeling lost and conflicted.

- After the confrontation, Piotr withdraws, spending more time alone, often sketching or painting as a way to process his emotions. His art reflects his sadness, with his usual bright colors replaced by somber tones. He’s quieter than usual around the team, his normally warm, open demeanor replaced by a distant sadness that everyone notices.

- When the mind control fades, Piotr’s relief is immediate, though it’s quickly followed by a wave of guilt. He’s devastated that he allowed himself to doubt you and feels as though he’s failed not only you but himself. Piotr values honesty and loyalty above all else, and knowing he was manipulated into betraying that trust weighs heavily on his heart.

- Piotr’s apology is heartfelt and earnest. He approaches you with a bowed head, his soft blue eyes full of remorse as he expresses how truly sorry he is. He admits he let his own insecurities get the better of him and promises to never let anything like this come between you again. Piotr’s gentle nature shines through as he speaks, his words filled with sincerity.

- To make it up to you, Piotr spends hours creating a beautiful painting as a symbol of his love and commitment. He pours all his emotions into it, and when he finally shows it to you, it’s a breathtaking piece that captures not only his feelings but his hope for a future together. It’s his way of saying that he’ll always choose you, no matter what.

- When you forgive him, Piotr’s relief is evident as he pulls you into a warm, protective embrace, whispering a quiet “thank you” in your ear. From that moment on, he’s even more devoted to you, his love unwavering as he vows to always be by your side, ready to protect you and cherish the bond you share.

Illyana Rasputin aka. Magik

- When Illyana first confronts you about the supposed betrayal, her reaction is cold and guarded. She’s been through a lot and has learned not to trust easily, so the idea that you might have betrayed her strikes a raw nerve. She doesn’t raise her voice, but her gaze is piercing and demanding, her words biting. She insists on knowing the truth, her distrust palpable as she refuses to let her guard down.

- As you try to defend yourself, Illyana remains silent but intense, her expression unreadable. Though she hears you out, her experiences in Limbo have made her skeptical, and her inner walls go up even higher. She doesn’t easily show her emotions, but a flicker of hurt crosses her face, though she quickly hides it. Her eyes, however, reflect the turmoil within as she struggles to decide whether to believe you.

- After the confrontation, Illyana keeps her distance, often disappearing into Limbo for hours or even days at a time. She’s afraid of letting herself be vulnerable, and in her mind, withdrawing is easier than facing her feelings. She immerses herself in her magic, and whenever you do see her, she’s even colder than usual, her demeanor icy and unapproachable.

- When the mind control fades, Illyana realizes with a rush of guilt and anger that she was manipulated. The thought that someone else got inside her head, made her doubt you, infuriates her. Illyana isn’t one to let go of a grudge, and she’s determined to track down the person responsible for the manipulation. However, before she does, she knows she needs to make things right with you.

- Apologizing doesn’t come easily to Illyana, but she tries, albeit a bit awkwardly. She’s not used to showing vulnerability, and her words are hesitant, as if she’s afraid of getting hurt again. Her apology is short, and she fumbles a little, admitting she let her own fears cloud her judgment. It’s clear that this is difficult for her, but she genuinely wants to make amends.

- To make it up to you, Illyana decides to take you to a part of Limbo that only she knows—a peaceful area untouched by darkness. She wants you to see a side of her world that she’s rarely shown anyone, as a way of rebuilding the trust she feels she broke. In her own quiet, intense way, she shows you that she values you deeply and regrets ever doubting you.

- When you forgive her, a rare smile appears on Illyana’s face. She takes your hand, her grip surprisingly gentle, and promises to never doubt you again. From that moment, her walls soften a little more, and she becomes even more fiercely protective of you, determined not to let anyone or anything come between you again.

Warren Worthington III aka. Angel

- Warren’s reaction to the supposed infidelity is a mixture of heartbreak and anger. He confronts you with a painful intensity, his usually calm and confident demeanor shaken. He’s direct but emotional, asking how you could betray him when he’s always been so open with you. His wings twitch with agitation, mirroring the turmoil he feels inside as he searches your face for answers.

- As you try to explain, Warren crosses his arms and listens, his blue eyes narrowed in hurt and skepticism. He wants to believe you, but his trust has been shaken. His history with betrayal and rejection makes this even harder for him, and it’s clear that he’s struggling to reconcile his love for you with the doubt gnawing at him. He holds himself back, almost like he’s trying to protect his heart from further pain.

- After the confrontation, Warren becomes distant and withdrawn. He spends long hours flying alone, seeking solitude in the sky where he feels free and unburdened. Around the mansion, he’s quieter than usual, a shadow of his usual confident self, as he tries to process the hurt. He avoids looking at you, and whenever you’re nearby, he keeps his wings folded tightly, as if to shield himself.

- When the mind control lifts, Warren is overcome with a wave of guilt and relief. The realization that he was tricked into doubting you makes him feel sick, and he’s furious at whoever did this to him. His anger quickly turns inward, as he berates himself for not seeing through the manipulation sooner. The first thing he wants to do is find you and make things right.

- Warren’s apology is heartfelt and genuine. He approaches you with an earnest expression, his wings slightly drooped in a sign of vulnerability. He’s visibly distressed, admitting he made a terrible mistake and asking for your forgiveness. His voice is soft and remorseful, as he promises that he’ll never let doubt cloud his feelings for you again.

- To make it up to you, Warren arranges a surprise getaway—a scenic flight to a secluded spot where he’s set up a beautiful picnic. He wants to remind you of how special you are to him, and he goes out of his way to make the moment perfect. It’s his way of showing how deeply he cares for you and how much he regrets ever doubting you.

- When you forgive him, Warren’s entire demeanor brightens. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his wings wrapping around you protectively. From that moment on, he’s even more devoted to you, always going out of his way to make you feel loved and appreciated. His love is unwavering, and he’s determined to prove that nothing and no one will come between you again.

Alex Summers aka. Havok

- When Alex confronts you about the supposed betrayal, he’s visibly upset, his usual laid-back nature replaced with anger and hurt. His voice is tense as he asks you to explain, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Alex has always been one to act on impulse, and it’s clear he’s trying not to let his temper get the best of him as he questions you.

- As you try to explain, Alex’s frustration is palpable. He listens, but his arms are crossed, and he avoids looking directly at you. Trust doesn’t come easily to him, and this situation brings up all his insecurities. He wants to believe you, but he’s also deeply hurt, and his defensiveness shows as he tries to process the conflicting emotions swirling within him.

- After the confrontation, Alex becomes distant and spends more time training alone, channeling his frustration and confusion into his powers. He avoids you around the mansion, finding it easier to distract himself with intense workouts than to face his feelings. His friends notice the change in him, but he shrugs off their concern, burying his pain beneath a tough exterior.

- When the mind control lifts, Alex is filled with guilt and anger at himself for falling for the manipulation. The realization that he let someone get inside his head and make him doubt you weighs heavily on him, and he’s angry at whoever did this—but even angrier at himself for not seeing through it sooner. He immediately seeks you out, desperate to make amends.

- Alex’s apology is both awkward and heartfelt. He struggles to find the right words, his voice thick with remorse as he admits he should have trusted you. He’s not the best with apologies, but his sincerity shines through as he promises he’ll work on his trust issues. His vulnerability is clear, and he looks at you with an intensity that speaks louder than words.

- To show how much he cares, Alex takes you on a spontaneous road trip, wanting to escape from everything and spend some uninterrupted time with you. He may not be the most romantic, but he’s thoughtful in his own way, picking out spots he knows you’ll enjoy. The trip is his way of making it up to you, of showing you that you mean the world to him.

- When you forgive him, Alex is visibly relieved, a genuine smile breaking through his usually tough exterior. He pulls you into a tight hug, vowing that he’ll never let doubt cloud his love for you again. From then on, he becomes even more open with his feelings, determined to prove that you can rely on him, no matter what.

[4amode]

As their fan, what do you think are Remus and Sirius’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? What are your favorite headcanons of them? Do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dyanamic remind you of their ship?

P.s 1 I don't dislike Tonks, but her with Remus got together, really seem out of nowhere, right?

P.s 2 Do you have any fav fics for them?

I’ll try to answer without explicitly referring to any specific fanfiction and keep things more general, since I think it’d be reductive to tie them to particular fanfics or headcanons. This is just how I personally see the characters, so, of course, some of what I believe might not match how others view them.

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🐺 Remus:

I’d say Remus’ greatest strength is his empathy. He really understands people, or at least tries to, and that’s what makes him such a great teacher. He doesn’t impose his ideas on others. Rather, he guides you toward it and leaves room for discussion. He has the patience to listen to everyone’s perspective before deciding where he stands.

That’s not to say he never gets angry, but he always tries to manage it, or at least step away when it becomes too much. It’s probably because he’s afraid of anger as such an unstable emotion, and he doesn’t want to lose control [as if he ever would]. When it comes to people he cares about, he's careful and protective. But with those outside his inner circle? I see him as kind of indifferent, even a bit cold. He doesn’t care for their opinions and doesn’t bother arguing if he doesn’t think their viewpoint matters to him. And, of course: sarcasm. Sassy, sarcastic Remus is everything.

Weaknesses: Being a werewolf and his family situation made Remus very self-reliant, to the point where he struggles to ask for help, even though he’s capable of accepting it when it’s offered. He has pretty low self-esteem and constantly underestimates how much people care about him and the lengths they’d go for him. He’s the kind of person who would quietly take insults directed at himself but would fiercely defend his loved ones.

The fact that, in canon, he didn’t check on Harry, even though he was the only one who could, makes me think that his sensitivity and low self-esteem sometimes weigh him down, especially in emotionally taxing situations, like the deaths of James and Peter or the accusations against Sirius.

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⭐️ Sirius:

Confidence, style, and passion. He’s deeply emotional and feels everything with his whole heart, which also makes him incredibly honest. I love how confident he is, likely because of his family situation, but what makes him truly amazing is his ability to walk away from that toxic environment and those beliefs. Breaking free from his family’s influence took immense bravery. His ability to ask for help when he needs it's a skill that not everyone has.

He’s excitable and has a childlike eagerness that makes him great with kids [you can hear me sobbing in the background]. Also, I love the headcanon that gives him a perfectly androgynous look [but that might as well be a very personal preference]

Weaknesses: Sirius can be far too impulsive, often acting first and thinking later, which has gotten him into serious [pun intended] trouble more than once. His intense emotions can overwhelm him to the point where he doesn’t fully understand them at first, leading to more confusion and frustration. When he’s feeling vulnerable, he tends to mask it with arrogance or defiance, which doesn’t always help the situation, especially when what he truly needs is to open up.

To analyze both of them, I think it’s helpful to consider their Patronus and Animagus forms. Remus is a wolf. Wolves aren’t naturally trusting and tend to form close-knit packs, which aligns with his selective and protective nature when it comes to those he loves. He’s aloof with others but fiercely loyal to his inner circle. Dogs, on the other hand, are playful, excitable, trusting, and loyal to a fault.

Their dynamic is mainly on the "opposites attract" side of the spectrum. Remus is reserved, reflective, and careful, while Sirius is the complete opposite, which creates a natural balance between them. At the same time, Remus is very much a Marauder at heart, willing to join or encourage Sirius [& James] in his pranks and plans, and Sirius has just enough sensibility and care not to hurt Remus, which always tugs at his heartstrings.

For the Tonks/Remus relationship, I won’t lie,it weirds me out too. I’ve always thought the bias that Remus and Sirius were in love might have influenced my feelings about it. The fact that Remus ends up with Tonks after Sirius’ death just doesn’t sit right with me, especially considering that Tonks is Sirius’ niece. Even without that detail, though, it still feels like a very random pairing.

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☆ Some of my fav headcanons [some I've read, others I've just come up with]:

They rescue baby Harry from the Dursleys and raise him together [cute chubby-cheeked BABY. HARRY. got my heart]

Sirius sometimes gets nightmares about his parents. When he does, Remus wakes him up, conjures him a cup of warm tea, and reads to him until he falls back asleep

Sirius remembers each and every one of Remus' scars

Sirius stealing Remus' sweaters, both of them having a whole wardrobe-worth of ragged band tees from the 70s and 80s

Remus always wearing several hair ties on his wrist in case Sirius needs them [Sirius likes it because he thinks it's like marking his territory]

Sirius sleeps always in Remus' bed because his scent calms him, and he doesn't have nightmares from his years in Azkaban or his family

Lots of PDA, Sirius is a very physical, touchy person, so he always maintains physical contact with Remus, and Remus absolutely doesn't mind

Remus is the only one capable of keeping Sirius in line when he gets too far

Bassist Remus / singer Sirius

Remus' wolf accepting Sirius as his mate and not attacking him even when Sirius is not in his animagus form [he still tries to avoid that because it makes Remus worry]

Adult wolfstar surviving [ouch.] and opening a shop together [tattoo shop, bookstore, you name it]

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☆ Fanfic list:

that’s the art of getting by by sarewolf [rating: M]

Dress up in You by MsKingBean89 [M]

Trust the Wolf to Bring You Home by pancake_surprise (keenbean) [G]

Stealing Harry by copperbadge [M]

How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky [M]

The Devil's White Knight by orphan_account [Rating: E] This is mainly a Drarry fic, but there's a super sweet parents Wolfstar on the side

Note: I've excluded ATYD, Art Heist, Baby!, Crimson Rivers, Best Friend's Brother, Choices, and The Cadence of Part-time Poets from the list because those are a must, the alphabet, a god-given blessing, even if they are not exclusively focused on wolfstar.

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☆ Similar ships, in my opinion:

Wei Wuxian / Lan Wangji - MDZS

Crowley / Aziraphale - Good Omens

Barty Crouch Jr. / Evan Rosier - Marauders era

Tim Stoker / Sasha James - TMA

Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru - jjk

Achilles / Patroclus - TSoA

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A final bonus:

☆ Songs that remind me of wolfstar the most:

Moonage Daydream by David Bowie [a.k.a. God]

Mr. Brightside by The Killers

All of David Bowie's discography, I'm afraid [yeah, okay, you got me]

Beauty and the Beast by David Bowie

Wonderwall by Oasis

Cigarette Daydreams by Cage the Elephant

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

As It Was by Harry Styles

Meet Me At Our Spot by the anxiety, willow, Tyler Cole

Malboro Nights by Lonely God

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Hope you enjoyed this illegally long post, and also sorry for the late answer 🐺⭐️

[valkerymillenia]

please make a post about bruce wayne being autistic

I already have, for several years now I've been saying that Bruce Wayne is neurodivergent and most likely autistic, but I don't think I've made a very detailed post specifically here on Tumblr so... Might as well?

With the arrival of "The Batman" and Pattison giving us a Bruce Wayne portrayal that most definitely reflects a neurodivergent Batman the way he should be, more and more people are starting to adhere to the autistic!Bruce headcanon and I'm all for it but many still argue that it's not canon to the comics, I beg to differ (and I'm hyper focused right now) so let's make a post about it, shall we?

Proof that canon Bruce is very likely in the autistic spectrum

For starters, Bruce canonically has PTSD (and anger issues that come with it) and OCD. He also suffers from acute anxiety and depression but none of this takes away from the fact that he's been autistic-coded for decades and not just in the comics, in fact, I'm going to be talking about the character across several types of media.

Also, remember that autism is a spectrum and every person is different.

Let's start with this actual panel from "Batman: The Imposter", it's a recent (2021-2022) black label comic but it's relevant since it features the point of view of a therapist/psychiatrist on young Bruce.

But now, let's get to the rest.

Brucie is excellent at mirroring, masking and generally BS-ing people!

As an adult he uses scripting a lot and his detective skills to pick up cues from people and act as they expect of him. Very good at playing pretend, not so good at real relationships. He reads people through factual data, analyzing micro-expressions, posture and words like a puzzle rather than naturally understanding social cues. (Additionally, he actually has fun playing different characters like Brucie or Matches.)

He's extremely empathetic (my god, so much hyper empathy) but also struggles with alexithymia.

He feels so much empathy that he literally cannot stop caring, he cares so much that he tries to protect the city with his bare hands, throws money at a million causes and will always go the extra mile for people (such as, for example, offering a Wayne Ent. job to an underage prostitute to get her off the streets).

He feels all this compassion but can't quite express it, he has a lot of trouble being emotionally demonstrative and picking up the right social cues, vulnerability does not come easy to him and neither does abstract expression.

He uses a flat tone, he's monotone and generally expressionless when he's not trying to fake a reaction or emotion, so he comes off as disconnected and disinterested and that causes friction with people like Dick and Clark.

He tends to express himself more in actions than words precisely because verbal expression is hard for him (unless he has time to plan out his speeches or is being very blunt).

Examples:

When Dick tells Bruce he's dating Babs and Bruce just grunts and shows no reaction, Dick misinterprets as lack of interest but Bruce actually just has no idea what reaction is expected of him.

He's incredibly blunt and to the point, he says exactly what he means and sometimes comes off as very confrontational, he doesn't go through the trouble of lying to make people feel better (I don't want to think about the Ric arc but... the Ric arc). If he has to lie to play a part or mask, he will often resort to sarcasm.

When he wanted to adopt Tim he was so bad at putting his intentions in words that Tim couldn't understand him and Bruce had to ask Alfred to explain/show him.

He hates small talk with a passion and goes out of his way to avoid it, he says what he has to say and leaves, if he wants to know how someone is doing he will go check/spy on them rather than simply ask (literally does this with the whole family). This also extends to Batman's habit of just disappearing mid-conversation once he feels he has as much info as he needs.

When Bruce gets engaged (and I'm referring to the almost-wedding with Selina in this case) he has trouble telling his kids and best friends about it because he doesn't understand why it would be important to them and doesn't know how to say it.

When Bruce is proud with Damian's efforts reigning in his violent tendencies early in their Batman and Robin partnership he had this interaction with Alfred- A: "Did you tell Damian you are proud of him?", B: "Of course.", A: "What exactly did you say?", B: "I said I found his efforts commendable.", A: *sigh* "Couldn't you just say you are proud of him?", B: *visibly confused* "Isn't that exactly what I did?"

When he and Dick have that rough patch where Dick leaves and stops being Robin (right before he becomes Nightwing), a lot of that bs is because Bruce can't properly express himself and pushes Dick away instead telling him that he's letting him go for his own good.

When Jason comes back as Red Hood and is so pissed at Bruce for not killing Joker to avenge him and for replacing him with Tim? Bruce could have told Jason that he did in fact try to kill Joker to avenge him but was stopped by Superman (and a whole lot of other bs) and he didn't replace him with Tim, he rejected Tim and Tim stalked him and made himself Robin against Bruce's wishes. Would this explanation had helped with Jason's anger? Probably not but Bruce didn't even think to try because he didn't know how to express himself and that bullshit spiraled out of control.

Clark: "I know you didn't bring me back because you like me." B: "I don't...not like you."

Another canon interaction- B: "Family is...good." Jason: "What are you trying to tell me?" B: "I just told you." Dick: "He's telling you he loves you." B: "Isn't that what I just said?"

Hyper empathy- he pays for the Graysons' funeral and takes Dick in literally out of empathy, he sees himself in this boy and he thinks the most rational reaction to this is to adopt the kid, and he does it again with Jason.

SO. MANY. ENGAGEMENTS. He's so bad at expressing or even understanding emotion that when he falls in love he does it HARD and is really bad at expressing it so he just jumps right to the ring. Granted, this is a product of writers re-hashing the same classic climax and drama tropes with love interests over 80 years of history but I went through the comics and counted, Bruce was engaged at least 9 times (11 if we don't nitpick too much).

(I have a hundred more examples but this is getting long as it is.)

Real emotional expressions are rare and that makes them stand out, they can also be extreme and/or inappropriate.

Some examples of his extreme emotion reactions could be adopting the kids so easily, or punching people as a first instinct when he gets mad or overwhelmed, even when it's unnecessary (I could give a dozen examples of this one but my favorite is during the Court of Owls nonsense when he discovers the Owls put an electrum implant in Dick's tooth and rather than explain this to Dick while they are having a calm conversation about the CoO, he just pauses to punch Dick in the middle of the conversation in order to knock the fake tooth out, talk about a drama king).

Lack of social skills.

He doesn't even try to be social as Batman (and we've established that Brucie is a mask), and often misses certain jokes or sarcasm and has a very skewed sense of humor (often finding things funny that others don't or saying amusing things totally unintentionally).

His grunts or just outright refusal to answer certain things. Vocal stims. He seems to actually go non-verbal from time to time.

He has a lot of complex feelings but often doesn't understand them or know how to show them. Canon Dick, Clark and Jason don't often 'get' Bruce and become very frustrated by his lack of communication and his avoidance of emotional topics.

One of the reasons he connected so well with Cassandra Cain before Rebirth is because he doesn't have to talk to her, she can understand his feelings purely through his body language and that is clearly a massive relief for him.

When he's alone with Selina he shows a very soft romantic side but even there he has trouble knowing the right thing say or what is expected.

As an example, the proposal comes to mind- B: "marry me." S:"no" [some time later] S:"ask me again, but this time ASK, don't say it at me." B:"will you marry me?" S:"yes".

(Also, literally all his repressed reactions to the break up after she left him at the altar.)

He has canonically had meltdowns as a child in the comics (and shutdows in the "Gotham" show). It can be argued that some of his extreme (often violent) reactions to certain things as an adult could also be called meltdowns.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria. I think this one is really obvious, the man would rather block out anything emotion-related than face rejection, it's often a big trigger for his depressive tendencies.

He has "special interests".

Batman started as a symbol (let's not forget he has a bat phobia) but he became obsessed with all things bat-related, obviously. But he also has more specific and personal interests- detective work (he will make up puzzles if there's nothing to solve or he will actively look for trouble if everything else has been handled), making gadgets, dinosaurs, Grey Ghost, Zorro comics, classic lit, etc.

He hyperfixates on his interests and hyperfocuses on specific tasks A LOT to the point of injury and forgoing basic needs. A good example of his hyperfocus is how he handles specific Batman cases.

He info dumps! Enough said.

He has told Gordon that he "doesn't change his routine" and there was a whole panel about the importance of routine for him, including doing the same rituals every night. When he has to take a break from patrolling due to injuries, more than once it's been shown how it's almost physically uncomfortable for him to have that routine interrupted even when there's no specific case to follow up on.

Sensory issues!!!

Bruce has shown to like quiet and darkness, he's shown in some forms of media to be sensitive to bright light, he prefers to avoid crowds when he can, he has a massively high pain tolerance, he has a specific type of clothes he feels comfortable in and doesn't deviate from them (not the bat-suit but rather his damn turtlenecks).

He is a picky eater and likes very spicy food and sweets (autistic people either prefer bland foods and certain textures to avoid overstimulation or they go for very strong intense flavors precisely because they need the stimulation, Bruce is the latter, Alfred often sways him with sweets and it's official that his favorite food is spicy mulligatawny soup). In fact, he's such a picky eater that he has stubborn eating habits (like forgetting to eat entirely) and doesn't see anything wrong with feeding young Dick nothing but chips because it's "what Dick likes".

The entire design of the bat-suit could be connected to sensory things: his cape is very heavy, which could be connected to pressure stimming (it's so heavy that when Dick becomes Batman he complained and had to have a lighter cape made), if you really think about it his cowl is designed in a way that can filter out excessive stimuli (lights and sounds) and help him focus on specific things, etc, etc.

As a kid he connects better with adults because of his intellectual level, but as an adult he connects a lot more easily with children and teens.

This is shown both with people he rescues and with the people around him, there's a reason he connects and works so well with the young Robins but starts having communication issues with them when they grow up. (It's not mentioned often but a typical trait of people in the spectrum is that they tend to have problems connecting with people in their own age group).

Outside of life-or-death situations he often avoids physical contact as much as possible, even with people he cares about, and sometimes even when he's clearly touch-starved he doesn't usually initiate contact.

It seems to depend a lot on the level of trust he has for people. If a person he trusts initiates it he gets awkward but enjoys it, Dick is a good example; if a person he's not close to initiates contact he often shows annoyance or discomfort. It requires a high level of intimacy for him to initiate contact but when he does he's extremely affectionate (scenes with Selina or any of the his kids come to mind).

He likes making lists, files and hoarding information.

There's a scene where someone apologizes because the info they gave wasn't helpful at all and Bruce's reply was "I know more than I did 10 minutes ago. I like information." He also keeps very extensive (and often invasive) files about people he knows and has his famous contingency plans for every superhero he knows.

He's very methodical and organized about these things (like his case files and reports) but...

...he's a naturally messy person as seen by the state the manor and cave fall into when Alfred is not around and has difficulty taking care of himself, not because he's some sort spoiled rich man-child but because he underestimates his own needs and limits. EDIT: this is executive dysfunction. Both Battison and comic Bruce seem to need prompting for basic things like taking a shower or cleaning up after themselves as they seem to forget their own needs.

When he's not masking, he has a very atypical body language, such as his skulking and looming, avoiding eye contact, his evasiveness, the way he can stay inhumanly still for long periods of time if he needs to but is also extremely impatient and often doesn't stay still (I remember a panel where the cave computer takes 8 seconds to process some data and Bruce still complains it's too slow and needs and update, much to Clark's confusion).

.

I have more but this list is so long already and I'm tired.

I also had some comic panels but I don't have the patience to find them and pick out them out (tumblr has a 10 picture per post limit anyway). Might edit this later if I find any. If anyone knows the different sources, comic issues or has the different panels and gifs, feel free to add them.

SMALL EDIT: Martian Manhunter also claimed that being in Bruce's mind is very unpleasant. This could easily be because of the amount of trauma or intrusive thoughts from OCD but it's also very possible he was talking about experiencing the world and likely sensory overload from Bruce's perspective.

[beels-burger-babe]

I Burn For You

***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***

Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.

MC x Lucifer

The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.

You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.

You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.

Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.

You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.

Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.

First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.

The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.

Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.

Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.

Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.

Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.

As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.

The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.

So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.

Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.

You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.

The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.

They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.

Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.

Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"

You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."

You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"

You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."

Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."

"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"

You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.

You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"

You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.

"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."

There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."

"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."

You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."

"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."

He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."

The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"

You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."

You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?

What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?

What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...

You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."

The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"

You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"

You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.

You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."

Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.

His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.

He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."

Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."

You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.

This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.

***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

[rey-is-not-a-skywalker]

Gladiolus Amicita SFW alphabet.

Warnings: none.

Felt like doing another one, so here we go! Remember to leave requests for any characters you would like to see next!

Enjoy! ❤

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A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Gladio doesn't care where you are, he'll always show affection to you. He loves to be affectionate towards you in many ways- be it grabbing your waist and pulling you in, or something like head rubs and messing your hair up a little- he does love seeing you like that.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He's the motivational friend, but not the 'you can do it', kind of motivational, oh no. It's more... 'Get your head outta your ass and pull yourself together' kind of motivation.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He will happily let you cuddle up to him. He loves laying on the sofa and having you rest on his chest. Usually he will put an arm around you as you both lay there with blankets keeping you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Though he doesn't usually show it, he is actually an amazing cook, especially when it comes to meat, egg, and fish. He tends to steer away from cooking a meal though, and will instead make you both a lovely cup noodle with only the freshest ingredients. Cleaning wise, he isn't the best at cleaning, but he will do so from time to time.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would only break up with a partner if he had a very good reason to. For example, if you were being purposely rude, or if his royal duties prevented him from being with you. In the first scenario, he would be straight to the point, and wouldn't show much emotion. In the second one, he'd also be straight to the point, but he'd show some emotion. He knows you would understand though, and he hopes you can be together again someday.

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

Honestly, I cannot see Gladio getting married. I think he'd be too caught up in his royal duties to want to commit to anything, especially something that would last as long as a marriage. He would also have to make sure you were 'the one' before even considering a full commitment.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he tries to be as gentle as he can. He does try, really he does, but his chunky body makes it difficult sometimes. Emotionally, he won't be very gentle if you're sulking like a baby- he'll most likely tell you to snap back to reality, but if you really are struggling, he might give you a hug or two. He's not the greatest at advice, but he will give you an amazing pep talk.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

He loves them. He will do it whenever, wherever, as long as you are okay with it. His hugs are usually warm, and he's able to properly embrace you- his large self makes sure of that.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

Slowly. He doesn't want to commit to anything too quickly, and these words are only really words he uses with his very close family, and even then, it's on very rare occasions.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Gladio doesn't get openly jealous. Yes, he will get jealous, but he doesn't show it. If you're flirting with another, he'll silently observe you until you're alone, or until he can't take it anymore, in which case he'll drag you away and have a word with you.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Gladio likes to be explorative about his kisses- particularly where he kisses you. He'll sometimes go for the fingers, maybe the cheek, but his absolute favorite thing to do, is lift you up and kiss your forehead.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

This man is amazing around kids. He'll make sure that they're always happy, and if they're not, he'll try and cheer them up. He acts like an older sibling to children... though, he's not at all prepared to have his own kids.

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Mornings with Gladio are usually non-existent. The truth is, he wakes up at the early hours in the morning to train, so unless you're willing to wake up at 4am and go on a run, you don't see him in the morning until breakfast time.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Usually very slow. Gladio stays awake at night not only to kill some daemons, but also... to play games on his phone. He loves it when you're able to stay up late too and play some games with him.

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Never. He doesn't see a need for such sob stories, and he especially doesn't want to upset you. If anything ever comes up with everyone else opening up or telling people anything, he'll just remain silent.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very easily. I mean, only a few things anger him, but those few things are... well, quite common. First of all, Noct can be infuriating from time to time. Another thing that tends to anger him is people that try to hurt Noctis. They try to hurt him? Oh well, he's expendable. But Noctis...? He will not be having that today, no siree.

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

E V E R Y T H I N G. You can tell this man anything, and he will remember it. Sometimes he even remembers word for word what you rant about. It's not like this man has a good memory, it's just... he's very observant of you.

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

When you went to Galdin Quay and sat on the beaches... with a pot of cup noodles in both of your hands. In his eyes, there's nothing better than the sea breeze as you eat, and the way your hair was flowing in the wind was just magnificent to him. After you finished your noodles, the two of you had a mini water fight in the shallows of the sea water.

S - Security (How protective are they?)

There's not a word to describe how protective he is. He will stick by your side, 24/7, and his reflexes are the best you ever did see. If someone was shooting at you, he'd take all the bullets for you. If someone was out to assassinate you, likelihood is, he'd spy the assassin and kill them before they had the chance to even touch you.

T - Tears (Do they ever cry? Are they open about it, and why do they cry?)

Very rarely. In fact, the only time Gladio cries is when he loses a loved one, or a dear friend. Even then, it's not a lot of tears, and he will pull himself together after a while, and keep pushing forward. He only wants to impress you, even in the afterlife.

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

His sarcasm. This may not seem bad at first, but when he's making a sarcastic remark every two sentences, it does become a bit of a problem, especially at times where he's supposed to be serious.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

For the most part, Gladio doesn't care much how he looks, but he will do little things, like making sure his hair and beard is well groomed, and presentable.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Short awnser- yes. Long awnser... Gladio would indeed feel incomplete without you, but he wouldn't show it. He wouldn't say anything. He'd just suffer without you, but he'd always keep fighting.

X - Xtra (Random HC)

He teaches you how to forage. This man loves nothing more than to go out into the woods with absolutely nothing with him, and just... survive. A big part of this is foraging, and he will teach you what all the best things to eat and pick are.

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Gladio doesn't like people who nitpick at every little detail. He wants to be who he is and do what be wants, without having anyone criticise him for being the way he is.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

His sleep habits are all over the place. Sometimes, he'll stay up late, and wake up late, sometimes he'll stay up late and wake up early, or sometimes he might not just sleep at all. The man has no sleep pattern.

[theshelbyclan]

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.” 

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

Masterlist

[bcdwhcre]

may i request? one where levi and reader has suddenly parted ways leaving both of them heartbroken. fast forward to a few mos later, reader has moved w/ a new partner (but is still very much in love with levi) and then one day, both of them unintentionally crossed paths again (now as exes) levi reminisces their past and concludes that he still has feelings for reader. the ending is up to you tho! i love ur writing lol i’m rlly obsessed ❤️

“Reunited,” Levi x Reader

Summary: After you and Levi’s brutal breakup, you move on. Randomly, you two run into each other and ‘catch up’ but Levi confesses that he still loves you.

Warnings: none

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“I want you gone, I don’t want you here anymore!” You screamed at Levi, shoving your hands into his chest as you tried to push him away from you.

“Then fucking leave? No one is stopping you, Y/N.” Levi stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a cold stare.

“You’re such a dick and you wonder why no one ever sticks around long enough.” You let it slip up, the painful words had crushed his heart in seconds.

“Yeah? Now I can see why you were alone in the first place.” He said, it was like venom from a snake bite- toxic.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, the tears running down your face didnt phase Levi- not anymore.

You two were having a full screaming match in his office, you were positive the scouts down the hall heard the full thing but it didn’t matter- the anger boiling inside of you made you not think of anyone else.

“Glad we both feel the same.”

His words hit you like a truck, even though your words were just as bad- you said them because Levi pushed you to that point. That’s all he did was push and push until you have a reaction.

This time you were done.

-

It had been months since you last seen Levi, you were heartbroken and long nights you cried and cried, hoping he would suck up his pride and ego to apologize to you but it never happened.

You quickly jumped into another relationship, hoping this would make you forget about Levi but it never worked. Every time your partner would kiss you or try to touch you, all you thought about was him and the way he made you feel.

It was painful. Extremely painful.

You tried to suck it up, hoping it would get better but as of now- it hasn’t and you’re having a hard time dealing with that.

Levi, on the other hand, has been distracted with the scouts but once his head hits the pillow late at night, his thoughts are always directed to you.

He wish he could see you, he wish he could hold you again but he felt like a burden, he felt like you were better off without him so he stayed away.

But one random day, he had went into the town after coming back from a expedition. He had separated from the group, going straight to the bar because even though he wasn’t a drinker, he needed something to make him forget.

His uniform was still on, the pained look on his face didn’t begin to describe how he felt on the inside. It was getting too much to handle, he felt like he needed these drinks.

Until he caught a quick glimpse of your face, his heart stopping as his feet froze on the concrete. The smile you had on made his heart race and he didn’t realize his feet were moving towards you until you both made eye contact and your smile fell.

“Levi,” You said, looking over at him and your partner stood behind you protectively as they stared down Levi.

“So this is the famous Levi.” They mumbled, making you turn around to face your partner.

“You can go on ahead, I’ll be fine.” You tried to get them to leave because frankly, you didn’t want them there.

Your partner had kissed your cheek on purpose, eyeing Levi as they left and he looked at you like he had seen a ghost. You moved on and Levi wanted to rip everyone apart to feel something other than the pain weighing on his chest.

You both stood in silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do but you didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him. He gestured you to follow him inside the bar he was planning on going inside and you did, not a word has been spoken yet.

As the two of you sat down, Levi settling with whiskey and you just settled with a coffee- it was quiet and awkward. The tension was thick and you looked around the room to avoid eye contact.

“I didn’t know you found someone else.” He finally spoke, the sarcasm on his tongue was lingering and you can sense that he thought of your partner as a joke.

“Oh- yeah, three months.”

He gave you a wide eyed look, three months? He thought to himself. You two have only been broken up around five or six months and you were that quick to jump with someone else. It had shattered his heart more if that was even possible, laughing under his breath before downing his drink completely then asking for another.

“Levi,”

“So, did you not love me? Was our relationship a joke?” He cut you off, leaning forward against the table with a look of amusement on his face.

“Not at all, our relationship was everything to me.” You admitted, watching his eyes roll and he took another breath, trying to clam himself.

He didn’t want to argue with you, no, that’s not why he made you follow him in this lonely bar. In fact, he wanted to desperately kiss you, hug you. Shit, he wanted to drag you home and show you how much he missed you but when he saw your partner, his temper had taken over- along with his sadness.

“Y/N, I’m going to be honest with you.” He started off, looking into your eyes and it had made his heart skip a beat.

Suddenly his emotions had taken over, the flashbacks flooding his mind like they were yesterday. The first one he thought of was the time you two were in bed, he was trying to read a book and you were trying to get his attention. The way you would nudge him, purposely pull his eyes away from the book in his hands to look at you fully, the way your laugh would echo in his bedroom- he missed it.

Then the flashbacks of you taking care of him after expeditions, making sure to bandage his wounds and comfort him afterwards, making sure you reminded him how special he was and how grateful you were to have him.

It made him want to cry in your arms right now but he sat there. He made sure he kept himself well put together because he didn’t want to make you worry or hurt you in any way.

He didn’t realize how zoned out he was, the thoughts of you flooding his mind and the memories he shared with you- they were amazing and he couldn’t help but miss it.

“Levi?” You questioned, watching him stare down at the glass in front of him and soon he snapped out of it, looking up at you.

The jealousy he felt, the way your partner kissed your cheek like you were theirs. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to desperately take you away from here. All these emotions overpowering him, he wanted to explode.

“Fuck it.” He said breathless, making you raise an eyebrow before he practically climbed over the small table, cupping your cheeks and smashing his lips on yours.

You were caught off guard, the sudden kiss almost made you throw yourself back but you remained in place. The long nights you would think about this, this moment. The dreams you would have of Levi kissing you, it was all coming to life.

Your shaky hands grabbed onto his wrists, keeping him in place before you completely leaned in and moved your lips in sync with his. You still got the same feeling every time he would kiss you, fireworks. Every kiss and touch all made you feel the same spark you were feeling now.

Levi was so desperate to keep this going, he never wanted to lose you again, he was even too scared to let go but he pulled back, his face inches away as he stared deep into your eyes, taking in the moment incase it gets ripped away.

“I would say I’m sorry but I’m not... I still love you, come home, please..” Was all he said, his eyes had a sparkle of hope in them, hoping you would ditch your new pathetic partner and come back with him.

The amount of love you still had for Levi was more than enough for you to nod your head, making him drag you out the door and down through the town to go back to his place. He would turn back to look at you, the smile on his face had made your heart flutter with happiness.

“Levi, wait.” You stopped him right as you both stood outside of his place and he gave you a look of concern, afraid you’ll run off again.

“I never stopped loving you, I just want you to know that. Everyday only got harder without you next to me.” You admitted, making his hand squeeze onto yours and he embraced you in a tight hug.

Your face was nuzzled in his shoulder, the tears stinging your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. The overwhelming feeling that washed over your body made you cry a bit, you were finally happy and content. You didn’t realize you missed Levi this much until he touched you.

“God, I love you.”

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This ended up really cute. It made me soft🥺

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[bokunosimpfiction]

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god 

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire​ and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In.          Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

 In.

 … out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Cobra Kai Characters As Zodiac Signs

Johnny: Sagittarius

-Reckless

-Brutally honest and has absolutely no filter

-Doesn't like to talk about his feelings and runs away from his problems

-Finds joy in giving other people a hard time

-Procrastinates forever and then has random bursts of energy in the middle of the night and plans to get his life in order but never does

-Acts like he doesn't care what people think but actually takes most things to heart

-Uses humor to cope

-His mind works in a way very few understand

-Gives second chances out left and right

-Scared of commitment

-Over-shares

-Tries his best to lift up those he cares for

-Always thinking about the past

-Loves a good adventure

-Knows facts about the most random stuff and lacks knowledge in everything else

-Can be happy with someone one minute and fighting with them the next

-All he eats is junk food lol

-Childish and thinks he's always right

-Faux confidence 👍🏽

Miguel: Cancer

-Emotional and affectionate

-Extremely trusting

-Has a possessive and jealous side

-Romantic and passionate

-Too nice for his own good

-Values his family and friends over anything else

-Passive aggressive

-Has a tendency to victimize himself

-Can easily fall into a slump

-Empathetic

-Needs people's full attention and is upset when he doesn't get it

-Let's his anger and frustration bubble up until it comes out in huge outbursts

-Cautious of new people

-Highly intuitive

-Cheesy and sentimental

-Has trouble holding in his emotions

-Defends the people he cares about, even when they're wrong

-Can literally never catch a break ever

Sam: Taurus

-A romantic

-Tries to see the good in people but when someone rubs her the wrong way it's hard for her to shake the feeling

-Empathetic

-Hides her problems from others and tries to deal with everything on her own

-Flirty personality

-Thinks she's better than others but doesn't want to admit it

-Wants to be nice but just comes across as fake a lot of the time

-Jealous

-Self-absorbed

-Stubborn, stands her ground

-Absolutely loves to prove people wrong

-Can hold a mean grudge

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Hawk: Pisces

-Easily manipulated

-Sensitive and emotional

-Never thinks he's good enough and always wants to be somebody else

-Has vengeful tendencies

-Falls in love and gets attached to others quickly

-Projects his insecurities onto others

-Goes in way too deep when in a relationship

-Thinks with his heart and not with his head

-His confidence can easily be wavered

-Wants to fit in so bad

-Needs constant validation

-Other possible sign(s): Aquarius

Daniel: Aries

-Constantly triggered

-Passionate and bold

-Hot headed

-Easily makes enemies

-Confident and cocky

-Likes to face his problems head on

-An emotional, sensitive, cry baby that tries his best to hide it

-Control freak

-Impulsive

-Resourceful

-Never gives up without a good fight

-Stubborn and thinks he's always right

-Canon sign: Sagittarius

Robby: Scorpio

-Rebellious

-Feels very deeply and tends to let his emotions out in a harmful way

-Extremely jealous

-Clever

-Angry. Just angry. All the damn time.

-Spiteful and vengeful

-Doesn't like to ask for help; thinks he can deal with all his problems on his own

-Can easily get wrapped up with the wrong crowd

-Acts like he's okay being on his own but is actually really lonely

-Blaming himself for everything all the time

-Loner™️

-Canon sign: Aquarius

Demetri: Virgo

-Master of sarcasm

-Has a tendency to be pessimistic

-Bossy

-Protectful of the people close to him

-Hates change

-Analytical

-Extremely critical, especially of himself

-Impatient and opinionated

-Extremely smart and values learning and knowledge

-His ego is quite big once he stops criticizing his every move and actually sees he's good at something

-Doesn't waste his energy on things he doesn't deem important

-Other possible sign(s): Gemini

Tory: Aquarius

-Brave and confident

-Witty

-Attractive and magnetic personality

-Thinks she can handle everything on her own and hates asking for help

-Easily peaks people's interests and has something about her that makes people gravitate towards her

-Talks a big game and is actually about it

-Has a special charm that allows her to easily influence others, both positively and negatively

-Expert flirt

-Straightforward about how she feels

-Reckless, rebellious, and spontaneous

-Knows how to defend herself and doesn't hesitate to do so

-Sarcasm game on point

Amanda: Gemini

-Can easily bond with anyone she meets

-Professional problem solver

-Tries to see every side of a situation; a good mediator

-Short tempered and unapologetic

-Defends the people she cares about without hesitation

-Gets pissed off when people are irresponsible

-A realist

-Tries to be helpful

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Kreese: Scorpio

-Cunning and manipulative

-Agressive

-Brutally honest but also a skilled liar

-Power hungry™️

-Extremely competitive

-Protects the people he cares for, though that number is small

-Grade A shit talker

-Very complex and twisted sense of morals

Carmen: Capricorn

-Good at giving advice, a free therapist honestly

-Responsible and wise

-Very guarded once someone wrongs her and doesn't forgive easily

-Doesn't like to cry in front of others

-Very good instincts about people and can read them easily

-Other possible sign(s): Libra

Aisha: Gemini

-Helpful

-Undercover mastermind

-Has tough skin

-Forgiving

-Good at reading people and notices everything

-Doesn't hesitate to call people out on their bullshit

-Can easily become friends with many different types of people

-Gives good advice

-Other possible sign(s): Taurus

[dabiboy]

This is a request! How would Dabi react to Shouto killing Dabi's s/o

This one hurt me 😢 but here it is, hope it is what you were looking for!

Shoto killing Dabi’s s/o

-Oh boy.

-I don't see my baby Shoto doing this consciously, so probably this happened because either he didn't measure his strength, or he was protecting himself.

-I'm a true believer that Dabi is indeed Touya, so can you even imagine the size of this drama?

-Shoto had no idea what you meant to Dabi.

-So his reaction was something he didn't see coming.

-Dabi is a careless bastard, and you were the only person he truly loved and cared about, the only one. And there you were, lifeless body on the floor. 

-Dabi wouldn't even care about the fact that Shoto is his brother even though Icy-hot has no idea

- ''I think you have no idea what you've done... Do you?''

-Dabi wouldn't show the cocktail of emotions inside of him, he's numbed, it is hard to process that the only person he has ever loved is now dead.

-Killed by his younger brother.

-As if the Todorki's hadn't taken enough of his life already.

-I see this as a face to face situation, heroes are to busy saving some other people, so it is Dabi vs Shoto.

-Honestly, I think Shoto would look calm, but he's scared. He had never seen that look on a villain, so empty yet so filled with pain and rage. 

-Blue flames all over. After staying quiet for a couple of minutes he would use his flames with all he has.

-The rest of the heroes notice it, and they would try to get there as soon as possible. 

-I can see Dabi choking Shoto as a threat before leaving.

-'' What a fucking shame, Todoroki Shoto... You're just like our father'' 

-That would break him. 

-Dabi would grab your body and leave before someone takes you away from him. Or at least, before he cans say his goodbyes.

-After that? This man would never be the same.

-He'd be number than before, empty, broken. And when he finds out that the mass media and heroes hid the fact that you were killed by Endeavor's son, he's raging in anger.

-For how long are heroes going to keep being corrupt bastards? 

-He'd make justice with his bare hands.

Bonus:

The youngest of the Todoroki's tried to take a step back, but he failed when the blue fire was all over him, making him fall to the floor. He was supposed to fight, to be brave, but there was something on his opponent more frightening than his scars, something that made his blood run cold.

Dabi let out a groan full of anger as the blue flames were still surrounding them. The older got down, pressing the bi-colored hair man to the ground, obstructing his airflow. Dabi was almost enjoying his pain, without even care that the heroes were closer by the second.

Shoto gripped Dabi's wrist in an attempt of pulling him away, but it didn't work. And then, he saw it. It was like traveling back in time, and he could see in his opponent eyes that well known look. Disappointment, anger, void, pain. It was the same look his father gave him when he was a kid, and... It was not only the emotions evoked, it was the eyes. His father's eyes. Shape, color. And then his body froze, how could it be? Was it a coincidence? It hit him again, it was just as one of his eyes, the three of them share that turquoise color, what had he done?

''What a shame, Todoroki Shoto...'' Dabi said with a painful sarcasm, a devilish smile ''What is it going to happen next, you little bastard?'' He said in between his teeth, holding his neck tighter ''All of this... Will be hidden. And you? You'll be the poor innocent who got away, blaming someone else for her death'' Dabi could feel the pain taking over him, but in that very moment? His rage was bigger. ''All of you are the same fucking trash. Hiding your sins, looking like heroes in front of the world'' The word heroes was emphasized as he lifted a bit and pulled him to the ground again, still choking him. Dabi could hear the sirens closer and closer, he was running out of time. If he couldn't kill him right there and now, he was going to break him. Dabi leaned in Shoto's ear, and he whispered in between his teeth one more time. 'You're just like him, you despise him, but guess what.  I see no difference between the two of you. You're just the same fucking piece of shit as our father, little Shoto'' He looked at him one more time, recognizing some shared factions on the contrary's face. He stood up, lifting Shoto by his neck with him just to drop him to the floor right after.

Dabi used his flames once more, just to make time and lift your lifeless body on your arms, walking away from that scene. He couldn't say goodbye, he couldn't tell you how much he loved you. He couldn't see your smile one last time, the least he could do, was to hold your cold body against his now cold, shattered and burned heart.

You were gone.

And so the rest of his humanity.

[thatonetimetraveller]

Chapter 2 - Cin Vhetin - T’ad

22 BBY - 7955

Din woke slowly this time, the beeping of medical equipment audible through the helmet’s audio sensors. He could sense movement just outside his peripheral vision so he sat slowly taking care not to pull at his back… the constant ache of the old wound was gone. Alertness coming back to him as he remembered the disjointed events of the day prior. His mind was sluggish but at least he could think clearly, the too big helmet helping him stay grounded. He was 30 years in the past, in the child version of his body. He flexed his hands and stretched his back, he groaned in satisfaction. He hasn't been able to do that since the injury, his back was always too stiff. Yes, he was definitely smaller. The weight of his red robes registered and he sucked in a breath, he hadn't seen those robes since his parents’ death. He lifted the edge of it under his helmet and gave it a good sniff. Ka’ra, it smelled like Aq-Vetina, the rich earthy scent of his first parents still strong, mixed with the distinct smell of spices on the market. There were other smells too like ash and blood but for once he ignored those, basking in the memory of his birth parents.

The door opened and Helix walked in, datapad in hand. He glanced up when he sensed Din looking at him and gave him a gentle smile

“Hey, kid” Helix pulled up a stool beside the bed and sat, keeping himself relaxed. Din nodded in greeting the helmet wobbling on his head.

“Do you know where you are?” Helix asked gently and Din tried not to let his irritation show since he did attack them yesterday and his mind was still hazy

“A Republic cruiser” He answered and Helix nodded

“Good. Can you tell me the year?” Din paused just to make sure he got the date right since it’s been decades since he last used CRC

“7955” Helix gave him a gentle smile and stood and began to fiddle with one of the medical equipment in the room. Din watched him like a hawk when a thought occurred to him in his still sluggish mind.

“Did you drug me?” he asked suspiciously and Helix stilled and turned back to Din

“Yes. Some weak sedatives and a mild Force suppressant” Din furrowed his eyebrows at that

“Force suppressant?” Why would he need that? He doesn’t have magic like Grogu or the jetii. Helix hummed

“The General suggested it since you weren’t sleeping well” he explained but Din was even more lost

“What do my dreams have to do with magic osik?” He asked incredulously and Helix froze as a scanner clattered on the floor

“Kark” He swore as he gathered the dropped item, shaken; though how Din knew since Helix appeared perfectly composed was a mystery. He turned to Din muttering some curse under his breath then leveling Din with a serious look

“You don’t know?” he asked and Din was starting to get nervous that something was wrong with him

“Know what?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion. Helix closed his eyes in pain and sighed

“Can I comm the General? He would be more suited for this conversation” Din looked at Helix in shock, the short time he knew the medic he was always confident knowing what to say, taking control of the situation with ease. Anxiety rolled in his stomach, but his instincts weren’t giving him any bad vibes so he reluctantly nodded

“Sure,” he said. Helix jumped into action and keyed in the General’s frequency, he picked up a tense minute later

“General, there’s a problem in room 27” Helix said voice level and the comm was silent for agonizingly long seconds

“Copy that” Kenobi’s voice was on edge as he disconnected from the comm. Helix sat back on the stool

“It’s nothing bad, Beroya” He tried to soothe. Din raised an eyebrow and tilted his bucket with a snort filled with disbelief

“I’m not a child, you don’t have to coddle me” Helix sucked in a breath his eyes filling with pain

“Oh, right”

The door hissed open and Kenobi rushed in followed by Kote, Din relaxed at the sight of them.

“Is everything alright vod?” Kote asked in a harsh and caring voice. Helix stood, gave Kote a nod with a small smile, and turned to Kenobi

“General he uh… doesn’t know” Both of them looked at Helix in shock the medic did not hesitate - ever. Kenobi blinked in confusion, then his eyes settled over Din while Kote eyed Helix. Din was so confused. What doesn’t he know? It was something fundamentally big he managed to miss in over 40 years. He watched warily as Obi-Wan pulled another chair from the corner and sat, Kote settled on the edge of his bed patting his leg comfortingly.

“What did Helix tell you?” Obi-Wan asked and Din’s attention snapped to him

“I was given sedatives and a Force suppressant?” he furrowed his eyebrows “I was told it helped me sleep better” Din was plagued with nightmares and dreams that came true since he was a child. Sometimes they remained in his head as an eerie echo or other times they were weird and cryptic but they always came true and left him more exhausted than he should be when he woke. Strangely though when the goran gave his beskar buy’ce the intensity of the dreams lessened, she said it would help him.

“Yes, visions are taxing on your body and mental wellbeing so in extreme cases or with an untrained Force user, mild Force suppressants are given to limit your exposure. Don’t worry it shouldn’t interfere with your connection to the Force too much” Kenobi gave him a reassuring smile and panic was rising violently in Din despite the sedatives.

“General, I think you went a bit too fast” Kote commented, his voice heavy with barely concealed sarcasm but Din could tell he was laughing on the inside. Din’s mind was blank, his hands were shaking

“I-I don’t understand. My dreams… I … have jetii magic? Neret’yc” he mumbled and grabbed the sides of his helmet with his shaking hands caught in his own feedback loop of panic and confusion

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan mumbled while Kote scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of him gently prying his hands away from the bucket.

“Gar morut’yc” He whispered. Din slowly came down from the panic, his mind still an anxious mess but he could think again. He really should stop losing control like that. It was like his usual controls were gone and everything felt more powerful than usual, including his own emotions. It was exhausting and humiliating still, he thanked Kote and turned back to Obi-Wan who looked at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Beroya. I shouldn’t have dumped it onto you like that. I assumed you knew” Discomfort weighed heavy on his heart at the apology but before he could say anything Helix whacked Kenobi on the back of his head. He let out a quiet oof. Terror spiked in Kote as he stared in shock

“Di’kut. That’s why I called you here” Helix snipped, then his face morphed into horror as his words registered and at Kenobi’s bewildered stare “Sir” he added as he straightened fearfully

“I deserved that one” Obi-Wan smiled and patted Helix on the arm. Once the General conceded, Kote burst into giggles, his lingering fear also disappearing from his shoulders. Helix glowered at him

“So… I have jetii magic?” Din asked before the vode could start a fight. Obi-Wan grimaced

“The Force but yes” Din hummed processing the information trying to put the two separate boxes of jetii osik and Mando’ade together without much success. There was something missing.

“What I want to know is how did Beroya miss this for over 30 odd years?” Kote interjected and he had a point. Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought

“Many Force sensitive adults don’t know as the Force doesn’t always manifest with telekinesis, it could be good instincts, faster reaction time, better aim, visions of the future in dreams or just a heightened sense of empathy” Obi-Wan explained. Din looked down at his hand curiously

“I thought I always had good instincts” he mumbled “It feels different now though” Kote’s eyes snapped to his bucked in alarm, Helix’s hand tightening on his arm to keep him in place

“How?” Obi-Wan probed. Din, shrugged

“Clearer and louder. I… out of control” he said, words failing to convey the difference. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath

“Are you shielding, young one?” Din tilted his head in confusion

“I can protect my mind?” He asked innocently and Obi-Wan’s hand returned to his beard in thought then his eyes lit up in understanding

“Was your beskar’gam made of beskar?” he asked and Din bristled

“Of course it was,” he said with a little pride in his voice, his armor was his life after all. Obi-Wan tongue clicked

“Beskar blocks the Force. There are special alloys with a lower concentration of beskar made for Force sensitives”

“It does? But then why would…” It occurred to him that his dreams weren’t as severe when he slept with his buy’ce.

“Val ru’kar’taylir bal ru’ne’vaabir rejorhaa’ir ni'' They knew and did not tell me he murmured in disbelief. Why didn’t she tell him or make him a better beskar’gam? The stab of betrayal spread through his veins, his back aching in phantom pain. He wanted to throw something, anger bubbling up in him like lava, hot and dangerous. Kote placed a hand on his and the lava flowed into Kote leaving him empty

“It’s alright. I’m sure they had a reason” He said but the simmering outrage inside Kote remained. Grogu, the Empire wanted them for the same reason, maybe she was protecting him. The sting of lies and betrayal faded to a throb as he thought it over

“The Empire wanted Force sensitive children,” he said, his voice empty. It made sense now. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath in pain.

“Are you alright?” Din asked and Obi-Wan nodded though he was still massaging his temple, his blue eyes found Din’s through the visor.

“How about I teach you how to shield? You might not feel as overwhelmed as much” he suggested and Din stared at him

“I can’t be a jetii, I’m a Mando’ad” He declared, his heart conflicted. The wrongness of becoming a jetii an enemy of Mandalore and his ingrained fear of his new and unknown powers conflicted with the instinct - that may or may not be the Force - telling him that it’s right, almost nudging towards that path. His thoughts flickered back to the confusing jetii’kad that Grogu gave him, the blade felt like a part of himself.

oOo

9 ABY - 7986

The Razor Crest was floating in empty space while Din tried to get his bearings and figure out potential allies after the mess on Nevarro. Rage boiled within him at the thought of that demagolka Gideon wanted his child. He sighed, lifted his helmet just enough to pinch the bridge of his nose when the cries of the child registered. They were their usual ‘I want attention’ cries but this time they were quite forceful and determined. Din set a course to a random backwater planet and jumped the Crest into hyperspace. The child was wailing now so Din climbed down the ladder to see what they wanted.

The child was sitting on a box, regarding him with intelligent eyes. Not a sign of their earlier distress

“What’s wrong adi’ka?” he asked as he stepped closer to examine them. Fierce determination radiated from their posture as their face adorably scrunched up in concentration

“Protect” Din sucked in a breath at the sudden thought that entered his mind, it was definitely not his. He sank down to the floor in shock and regarded the ad in wonder, his hands shook.

“That… that was you adi’ka?” he asked, his voice giddy with excitement. He finally had a way to communicate with the child to understand them, love swelled inside his chest. The child huffed in annoyance and concentrated some more

“PROTECT” They shouted in his head and Din’s mind almost ripped in half from the force of it. He took a steadying breath and held up a hand to stop the ad from doing it again but louder. A headache was beginning to form

“Alright, adi’ka. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to protect you” he said regret filling his voice. What kind of a Mandalorian can’t protect a child? The ad mewled in irritation cutting off Din’s destructive thoughts and pointed a shaky claw at him while glaring at him like it was his fault for not understanding. It was adorable and Din’s heart melted at the sight. Din furrowed his eyebrows in confusion once he puzzled out the message the child wanted to convey

“You want to protect me?” he asked in mild horror. The child smiled and nodded vigorously, ears flopping around like a dog as they began to shuffle around. Din’s heart ached in sorrow at their lost innocence

“Oh, cyar’ika” he breathed out, failing to keep his emotions out of his voice “I can protect myself. It’s not your responsibility,” he said as he gently reached out to lay a comforting hand on their shoulder. The ad’s big dark eyes gazed at him with confusion their ears down turning before scrunching up their nose in determination

“Promised” Din tightened his hand in worry and sighed

“Who?” The child gazed at him with sad yet knowing eyes as they pointed another shaky claw in his direction and Din recoiled in shock

“Me? I - I would never ask you to promise anything like that” he said incredulously he would never burden a child with such a promise. The ad’s eyes turned somber at that, their expression the most serious he’s ever seen and it disturbed him to his core. What has this child gone through?

“Too young” They declared their ears drooping with exhaustion and through the haze of confusion Din reached out to steady them. What did they mean he was too young? His mind was filled with more questions than answers from this strange conversation with the child. They finally pulled a cylindrical object out of the many folds of their robe and pressed it into Din’s hand

“Gift” they whispered weakly in his mind before collapsing in his arms. Din stared at the child, sleeping peacefully and then the object in his hand.

“Oh adi’ka what have you gotten yourself into?” he said voice laced with barely suppressed pain before leaning down and pressing his forehead to theirs

“Vor entye adi’ka” he murmured before tugging the snoring bundle into their hammock and shutting the door.

He studied the cylindrical object in his hand. It looked like a hilt of a weird sword, at the top four metal pieces were surrounding the inner part of the hilt like a crown. There was a band of shiny metal that appeared to be beskar curving around the middle of the hilt, two small buttons were nested on the side of the band. Below the dark leather grip at the bottom of the hilt was a cap painted vibrant orange. The leather was worn and fraying in some places and the beskar had some scorch marks on it.

He gripped the hilt and it slid into his hand perfectly, with a burning curiosity he thumbed one of the buttons. The sudden hum and light had him almost dropping the weapon. An orange blade materialized out of the hilt humming with glee and lighting up the interior of the hull with a soft orange glow. Din stared at the weapon with shock, he hadn’t seen anything like it in his life but strangely the weapon seemed to recognize him. It was singing to him Din realized, happiness pouring out of the weapon in waves, how he knew he had no clue. He gave it a slow experimental swing entranced by its joyful orange glow. It was strange the blade itself had no weight so his balance was off and he gave it another swing. The blade cut through the air fluidly humming with delight. Giddiness bubbled up inside him as he gave the weapon a good twirl. The blade hummed with the joy of long lost friends reuniting and Din laughed with the blade. Beeping broke Din out of his feedback loop of happiness barely loud enough over the humming of the blade. Din sighed, gifted the blade one last twirl and gave it a long longing look then thumbed the off switch. The blade died down leaving the room oddly dark and quiet. Emptiness he didn’t notice before registered for the first time in his life. He clipped the hilt to his belt and climbed up to the cockpit just as the Razor Crest lurched out of hyperspace.

oOo

22 BBY - 7955

Someone was talking through the haze that surrounded Din. His memory was clearing and he was in the medical bay of an unknown ship. He blinked in confusion

“Beroya?” The man at the end of the bed asked his brows drawn in concern. The ginger man placed a hand on his, Din jumped

“Did you have a vision?” He asked. His head cleared slowly; he was on a Republic ship, he was 44 in the body of his 12 year old self and he had the Force. Kote was at the end of his bed sat by his leg, Helix was standing behind Kenobi the jetii who just offered to train him. He sighed

“No, just a memory,” He thought back to the vivid memory he just remembered, he had a jetii’kad. Did he get one in the past? Did he give it to Gorgu? Why didn’t he keep it? He stared at his hands in confusion

“Beroya, teaching you how to shield doesn’t mean you have to become a Jedi,” Kenobi said reading his doubts, Helix hummed behind him. Din lifted his head and gazed at Obi-Wan

“But I have the Force?”

“There are many sentients who have the Force and are not Jedi”

“Oh,” he was quickly realizing that knew so little about all of the Force osik stuff. Right now, despite his instincts insistence otherwise, he did not want to abandon his Mandalorian heritage but he needed training to understand his powers better and to be able to protect himself when push comes to shove. He looked at Kenobi his helmet wobbling on his head

“I’ll accept your offer” Kenobi sighed in relief and Kote patted his leg, pride radiating off of him. Kenobi turned to Kote

“Cody make sure everything is set up” Kote nodded, gave Din a smile, and left the room Helix leaving with him

Kenobi gestured for him to stand and sit opposite him on the floor

“So, have you meditated before, young one?” Obi-Wan asked once Din had settled into a comfortable position. He shook his head

“Close your eyes and feel the Force around you. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly” Din followed Obi-Wan’s instructions calming his mind and letting the familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of the Force into him and wash over him. He gasped, he could feel Obi-Wan sitting across from him, his mind similarly calm but he was the brightest presence on the ship. He could also feel Helix shuffling around with some medical equipment next door and the thousands of different yet similar beings on the ship all glowing in his mind’s eye and moving through their duties like a well-oiled machine. He could pick out Kote’s light from among the rest, he was a warm, strong and steadfast presence, the one he would associate with a good leader or parent.

“Good, now imagine laying a wall between yourself and the rest,” Obi-Wan murmured from the outside, barely audible. Din slowly began building the wall in his mind, brick by brick reinforcing it with beskar along the way. Gradually the lights dimmed and their emotions that he’s been picking up quieted to a hum. His own emotions, now easier to separate, were clearer and easier to control from the absence of thousands of other emotions. He felt Obi-Wan pull away so he slowly climbed his way to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, his chest lighter since he woke up in the past. He breathed out a sigh of relief. And his stomach rumbled. Obi-Wan who was already on his feet smiled good naturedly at Din and held out a hand, Din grabbed it and let him pull him to his feet.

“Vor’e” He thanked Obi-Wan

The door swished open and Helix walked with Kote right behind him carrying a big bag in his hand. Din tilted his head in question, putting a hand on his helmet to stop it from banging against his skull. Obi-Wan smiled at Kote.

“Oh good, you’ve got it” Kote grinned with excitement, his presence enveloping Din. He looked at the bag curiously as he sat back on the bed, legs swinging in anticipation. Kote hefted the bag onto the bed with a low grunt.

“We did the best we could,” Kote said as Din peered into the bag. His heart stopped. There was a whole set of beskar’gam made out of plastoid in the bag. He picked up the buy’ce cradling it in his hands in wonder tracing the edge of the T-visor with his finger. The design was like the armor Kote and his brothers wore but smaller, tailored to his size. He placed the buy’ce aside then lifted each piece out with care and wonder, each piece was snow white - Cin Vhetin - the color of a new beginning, it was fitting he mused silently. He laid them out on the bed in the traditional way he was taught as a child, admiring the full set.

“You could paint it if you want to,'' Helix suggested as he stood behind him. Din tilted his head in thought he never felt the need to paint his armor, then when he got the full beskar set and it didn’t feel right to paint it, the unpainted beskar showing his penance for almost becoming dar’buir. Now though he could imagine the swirling patterns of various designs on the white surface.

“I’ll think about it” he murmured then he hesitated for a moment before turning to Kote. “Uh… could you leave?” He asked and embarrassment coated his voice, Kote nodded in understanding and they quietly left the room. Once the door was shut behind them Din unclipped his red robe, folded it neatly and set it aside, and pulled on the black flight suit that came with the armor. Then he clipped each piece on with familiar ease of weaning armor his entire life and tightened the belts where he felt the plastoid slack. It fit surprisingly well to his new thin lanky frame. The plastoid was lighter and more flexible than his beskar of his previous beskar’gam and he’ll have to adjust to that. He gripped the helmet in his hands and stared at his new face with an odd sense of disappointment, something wasn’t quite right with it but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, it would be better than Kote’s too big bucket that wobbled precariously every time he moved his head. He lifted the bucket off his face and glanced around expecting the room to transform into an Imperial cell but it stayed mostly the same. Not wanting to chance another episode he placed his new buy’ce on his head. The slight hiss as it connected was a comfort he forgot he needed, he sighed as he finally felt safe in his own skin. He knocked on the door harshly to signal Kote and the others that he was done. Kote and Helix walked in and Din tilted his head in confusion

“Where’s Kenobi?” Helix shrugged

“He had to go up to the bridge since we’ll be rendezvousing with the 501st soon” he explained and Kote mock glared at his brother. Din held out Kote’s bucket and he grabbed it his hands shaking slightly

“Vor entye, Kote,” He said gratefully as tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. The warmth from Kote grew as it enveloped him like a hug. He beamed at him while Helix looked between them with a confused frown.

“You’re welcome Beroya” He clapped him on the shoulder still grinning

“How about we grab some food,” he said as he dragged him out of the room he’s been in the past few days. Din’s heart sped up.

“I can leave?” he asked with confusion. He was under the impression that he was a prisoner even if he was a nicely treated one. Helix who was following behind them sucked in a breath

“Of course you can,” he said with some incredulity. Din shrugged half heartedly

“I thought since I attacked your men that I would be a prisoner” He had to keep a tight hold on his new and fragile shields so as to not get swept away by the violent flood of Kote’s and Helix’s emotions.

“Well, at first you were” Kote admitted scratching the back of his neck and Helix shot him a look

“Oh” Din sighed, Kote held up a dramatic hand

“But! You were hallucinating and you apologized and you haven’t given us reason to treat you a prisoner since” Kote explained hastily and warmth spread across Din, he hummed and examined the hallway to distract himself from the strange emotion. The hallways, while similar to an Imperial ship at a first glance, had enough of a different feel to them that Din could differentiate the two. Troopers were walking about hurrying to their destination, some gave Kote a salute and smile, while others did a double take at the sight of Din. Their stares did not affect him since he was used to them when he had the full beskar beskar’gam. There were a few who huddled together and whispered something to the others, no doubt the gossip train had started already. Din sighed, the gossip amongst the Covert was bad since most of them never left the sewers of Nevarro but it may reach a new level of horrible since he was the center of the latest gossip.

They arrived at the mess hall quicker than he expected. Clones were in large groups around the tables, their chatter and the clatter of utensils echoed throughout the entire room. The tables were long white and organized into neat rows though some of the benches were askew and the shouts of rowdy bunch cut through the background noise. Din’s mind tried to puzzle out a way to escape eating but Kote grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cue, once he realized Din was lingering in the doorway. Din sighed. He stared at the small selection of food, mostly ration bars and some instant meals that were even less appetizing.

“Don’t tell me you’re just as bad at eating regularly as the General,” Helix joked from next to him. Din did eat less than he should. The fact that he couldn’t remove his helmet in most establishments and that he was reluctant to spend more than the bare minimum on food since most of the money went to the Covert and the foundlings - all of that meant that he skipped a few meals here or there. Helix raised an eyebrow at him, a mean scowl on his face at Din’s silence.

“Well, I-” he began to explain himself when Helix held up a hand

“The Force and meditation are not adequate replacements for food and sleep damn it!” Helix ranted as stacked 5 ration bars and some goop onto the tray, Kote snickered

“General Kenobi would argue,” he said with a smile

“The General can kiss my shebs” Helix grumbled with some ire and Din blushed then he remembered Helix’s earlier words

“The Force can be used that way?” he asked in wonder, wishing he knew a better way to stay awake at the countless long sleepless nights he had while hunting. Helix whirled around pointing a finger in his face with a glare, scowl still present

“Forget I said anything” He declared dramatically with a long sigh. Kote was snickering in the background while Helix kept grumbling to himself. Din followed after them knowing that he won’t lose them since he could pick out Kote’s warm presence in the crowd but it felt better to keep them in sight

“I only ate enough to sustain myself because the Covert needed the rest of the credits,” He said the urge to explain himself to Kote and Helix was strong. They reached a relatively empty table and Helix pushed the tray of food towards him as soon as they sat down. He stared at the food with trepidation and Helix sighed

“There is no shortage of food here Beroya” Helix gestured to the food, chewing on a ration bar himself “So eat” Din sighed

“I can’t” He bit out after a moment of hesitation. Helix and Kote exchanged a concerned look and he got the distinct impression of Kote wanting to hug him

“Why not?” Kote asked. Din looked down shamefully at his hands, he already broke the Creed several times first to save Grogu but that was fine since foundlings came above all else. But now so many people had seen him, not just without his buy’ce but without his beskar’gam so can he even be called a Mando’ad? Who was he if not a Mandalorian? His thoughts circled around that question so he clung to the traditions that would reject him in a vain attempt to define himself

“I can’t remove the helmet,” He said, eyes still locked on his hands. He felt the spike of concern, irritation, and shock from Kote

“Who told you that?” his voice was low and angry though not directed at him still he flinched slightly

“No one. This is the Way” he echoed, the once comforting words felt wrong and hollow coming from his mouth.

“The Way?” Helix asked his voice returning to the gentle prod he used earlier when he thought he was dreaming

“The Way of the Mandalore. I can’t remove my helmet in front of any living being or I become dar’manda”

“But you didn’t have a helmet before Cody gave you his” Helix’s voice was gentle and he could feel Kote stewing next to him

“Exactly, I already broke the Creed” He couldn’t say it out loud that would make it real and he was already hollow and directionless. The Covert would certainly not accept him back now if he could even find them

“That’s bantha shit!” Kote exploded and Din’s head snapped up to him

“What?” He whispered and his voice shook in bewilderment

“You just didn’t have a helmet when you got here! What if someone removed your helmet if you got captured? What are you supposed to do then?” Kote ranted “Besides, having a helmet does not make you Mandalorian. Then the vode wouldn’t be Mando’ade” His face was red from anger, Helix nodded along a similar expression of outrage on his face and Din stared at them in shock. Anger not directed at him radiated off of the both of them. Din’s heart swelled with an unknown emotion as he looked back at his food

“I…” he was at a loss for words as Kote deflated

“I’m still not comfortable removing the helmet,” he declared after a moment of silence. His mind whirling with shock. Both of them nodded in understanding

“We understand Beroya” Helix said

“But if you ever feel comfortable enough know that we won’t judge you” Kote finished. His heart squeezed in gratitude and warmth filled him, Din ducked his head.

Kote and Helix returned to their bland meal and Din glanced around the noisy mess hall. Troopers were talking boisterously, some slapping each other on the shoulder or arm as a show of comredradie. He spotted a few not so subtly ogling him but he ignored them. They felt happy and unrestrained. So when the back of his neck prickled with the usual sense of danger Din was taken aback and whirled around a second too late. The punch landed squarely on his bucket, rattling his head for a moment. The trooper had no paint on their armor and sported a mean scowl on his face, Kote sprang up from his seat growling at the trooper

“Slick, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Slick ignored his commanding officer and only sneered at the stunned Din anger rolling off of him in waves.

“You attack our men and then you have the audacity to wear our armor!” He said with disgust. The easy going chatter around them died down to a hushed whisper as everyone stared at them. Kote walked up to Slick with a furious expression and his voice was barely restrained, hard with the promise of violence

“Stand down Sergeant” He ordered. The order fell on deaf ears as Slick glared at Kote with no fear besides the tide of righteous anger

“No sir” he ground out “Don’t you see that he’s just another nat-born pretending to like us, to be one of us” He gestured to the rest of the clones

“Ni ceta” Din apologized as he stood, wobbling slightly on his legs. Slick sneered

“Oh, now he speaks our language too.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm “What’s next? You gonna paint your armor like us too? Is stealing our language and freedom not enough for you?” Slick accused loudly venom filling his voice and being

“Stand down Sargeant! That’s an order!” Kote bellowed his voice echoing throughout the silent mess hall. Din straightened feeling the anger rise in him at the unwarranted accusations

“I am a Mando’ad and I do not steal anyone’s freedom” He declared his voice steady and sure, his earlier doubts gone for the moment.

���Yeah, right” Slick huffed and raised his hand for another punch. Kote had enough and with a swift move restrained Slick bending his arm around his back painfully. He gestured for two clones their armor painted orange and handed the seething Slick over to them

“Maybe a few hours in the brig will teach you a lesson” He nodded to the two clones who dragged Slick away who was still glowering at Din with hatred.

“Alright boy fun’s over” Kote declared to the spectators and the rest of the troopers slowly returned to their meals though the chatter was more subdued than before

Kote sank back into his seat with a tired sigh and Din followed soon after. His mind still reeling at the pure hatred Slick directed his way like he was the cause of all of his problems. But before he could ask Kote why Slick hated him so much, two clones sat at their table, one next to Kote and one next to Din. Kote sighed in irritation and glared at the two clones while Helix snickered

“Waxer, Boil, what are you doing here?” Kote asked, his voice and posture tired with all the bantha shit that happened since Din left his room. Waxer was looking at him wearily from across the table and Din tilted his head in question. Boil, appearing to not have the same hesitation looped an arm around Din’s shoulder and grinned at him. Both Din and Waxer tensed.

“So you’re the verdi’ka who beat up Waxer,” he said with a good humored smile, Din tensed his shoulders. Kote gave a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Din opened his mouth to apologize again

“If you’re here to cause trouble...” Kote began

“Oh, we’re not assholes like Slick” Waxer chuckled relaxing slightly, Boil grinned and nudged Din

“Waxer was just too scared to ask the verd’ika for a rematch,” Boil said with a sly smile. Waxer rose and hit Boil across the table his face red with embarrassment

“I’m not!” he squeaked out, Kote tried to wrangle the two brothers to calm down and Helix was outright cackling now while Din stared at the chaotic scene in confusion.

“Why?” he blurted out and the chaos around the table as they stared at him. Waxer seeming to overcome his fear looked at him

“Because you’re good and it’s nice to spar with someone new,” He said earnestly

“Hear, hear” Boil chanted as he lifted his drink. Din looked at them both finding his instincts or the Force were telling him that they weren’t lying so Din agreed with a nod

“Sweet, sparring room 5 after the mission?” Waxer said vibrating in his seat with excitement

“Calm down vod’ika” Helix chastised and Din shrugged his heart soaring at the thought of a good spar since all his recent fights had been life or death situations, it’ll be nice to let out some steam.

“Sure” he agreed with a hidden smile. Waxer cheered, Boil rolled his eyes in fondness and then they soon left after that whispering amongst themselves in excitement. Kote turned to Helix with a raised eyebrow

“You were batchmates with them right?” Helix grinned mischief entering his eyes

“Yeah Waxer and Boil were always a chaotic duo”

“Batchmates?” Din asked curiously both of them tensed and stilled, fear spiking in them for a second but then it was replaced by humor again

“Batchmates grew up together, they were usually decanted in the same batch of 5” Helix explained, Kote was still tense though

“Like brothers,” Din said

“All the clones are vode but yes in a way batchmates are closer” There was a smile in Helix’s voice and Kote seemed to shrink in on himself a haunted look crossing his eyes but before Din could ask if he was alright his comm beeped with a message. Kote grinned and stood all, his fear disappearing instantly, Din tilted his head curiously

“Come on Rex’ika will be here soon,” He said with mirth, Helix stood and Din followed. Helix tossed him a ration bar with a scowl, Din fumbled to catch it

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you haven’t eaten today” he grumbled and Din gulped. Instead of answering he redirected the conversation away from himself

“Rex’ika?” he asked as he followed Kote since he wasn’t told to go back to the medical room

“My vod’ika” Kote grinned “He’d love to meet you”

“Really?”

“The 501st and General Skywalker are a rowdy bunch so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Helix said with a grin. Din paused, stunned the jetii who took Grogu away was younger than him so he shouldn’t be here unless he was near human and aged slower. Din snapped out of his musings when he felt the presence of Kote and Helix move away, he jogged to catch up with them.

“General Skywalker?” He asked a bit winded, Helix chuckled at that

“He is one of the best Generals in the GAR besides Kenobi” he added at Kote’s mock glare

“His plans may seem reckless but he has the fewest losses in the entire army. Rex is certainly not bored under him” Kote said with a proud smile

“At least he doesn’t lose his lightsaber every other battle” Helix teased, Kote sighed in exasperation

“Don’t remind me” he grumbled, Din watched in fascination. Helix left for the medbay about halfway to the hangar. They arrived at the hangar soon after that. It was busy, the engines of the landing LAATs and shuttles deafening, hundreds of troopers all decked out in blue armor were milling about the place, chattering amongst each other and greeting the troopers with orange paint enthusiastically. Kenobi was in the middle of the action directing the troopers and the landing crafts. But before they could reach him a clone with a blue pauldron and jaig eyes painted on his helmet approached them. Kote grinned

“Rex’ika” he exclaimed and enveloped the clone in a hug, relief flowing through him, the blue clone returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Once they finished greeting each other Rex glanced behind Kote where Din was standing suspicion in his frame

“Cody who’s this?” He gestured to Din, Kote grinned

“This is Beroya. We picked him up on Aq-Vetina” Kote introduced him proudly and Rex did a double take

“Beroya? I thought you took a shiny under your wing, not a cadet” Rex said his voice filled with incredulity, and Din bristled

“He’s nat-born Rex’ika,” Cody said with a glare to challenge Rex’s protest. Alas Rex was too oblivious to notice

“Why is he here and why is he wearing our armor?” There was no disgust or contempt in his voice instead he radiated confusion as he stared at Din, Kote shrugged

“Because he needed one and General Kenobi wanted him here” Din stared at Kote with a raised eyebrow as he sensed Kenobi approaching with a man behind him. The man was so bright, like a supernova it took him a second of squinting under the helmet’s sensors to really make out his features. He was tall and imposing, growing messy brown hair and wearing black battle armor and robes.

Din staggered back as the image of the man was replayed in his head. Suddenly he wasn’t in the hangar. He was in a large temple, tall spires casting long shadows in the dark night. Everything was dark and muddy even the air was suffocating, heavy with death and tragedy. Terror sliced through him as the screams of the ade tore through the peaceful setting. Blue flashed across the dark sky before another life joined the thousands screaming in agony. The dark robed demon cut through the children with ease, his golden eyes flashing with hatred and fury.

The temple morphed around him with sickening ripples. He was clutching something important to his chest running as fast as he could. Run away. Protect. Hide. He kept chanting. The shadows around him grew, eating up the low light of the moon leaving behind nothing but cold dead darkness. Out of the darkness, the demon materialized, golden eyes dead to the world yet filled with bottomless hatred. Blue flashed across the hall and orange rose just barely to meet it. The colors clashed, their usual magnificent harmony tainted just out of tune. Blue left and with vicious force came down on the weakening orange again and again like a rabid dog. Another violent clash, the orange now sluggish waning in the darkness that surrounded them. Still, it rose to meet every single violent strike with determination. Then the blue cut through the orange with a brutal strike. It fell into two on the ground. The orange light died out with last pathetic sparks. The darkness eating it alive

Din cried out in terror.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Greater Forces Than Arrogance

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: Sometimes sentiment helps you make the tough decisions, and as Eurus continues her little ‘experiment’ this is a lesson Mycroft begins to understand.

Word Count: 2882 words

A/N: I have to admit, this one kinda got away from me too. I hope you are enjoying reading this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!

Greater Forces Masterlist

Walking through the open doorway, Mycroft paused and looked back at his brother. He had saved you, and there were no words to convey just how grateful Mycroft was for that. Both Holmes boys were visibly shaken after that last task, the elder leant against the doorframe as the younger sank to the floor, both breathing heavily as they tried to process what had just happened.

John bent down to pick up the pistol, wandered over to his friend and stopped a few paces from him. Mycroft turned to watch their interaction as John cleared his throat. “Look, I know this is difficult and I know you’re being tortured, but you have got to keep it together.” His voice was steady, solid, as if anchoring them all back into reality.

“This isn’t torture; this is vivisection.” Sherlock didn’t even lift his head as his long fingers tugged through his hair. “We’re experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats.” Letting out a loud breath, he leant his head back against the wall behind him and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling for a moment before he turned and glanced in Mycroft’s direction.

Still shaken by the rush of emotions he had so recently experienced, the elder Holmes smoothed down his waistcoat and straightened his posture. A part of him was elated you returned his affection, and another part of him regretted all the missed opportunities. He couldn’t allow himself to linger on thoughts of you. They had to plough through whatever was in store. Sentiment was not going to help any of them. His eyes tracked Sherlocks movements as John helped him to his feet and then passed him the pistol.

The lights flickered red, and the mocking voice of Moriarty rang out once more. “Tick-tock, tickets please!” Mycroft rolled his eyes, feeling a swell of anger and shame within him. This was his fault. He had put Sherlock and John in danger. He had put you in danger. Stepping further through the doorway, he realised there was no corridor this time, just another room similar in size to the last. Grey walls and floor, no windows, four screens all displaying that infuriating screen saver. There was nothing else in the room; no indication of what Eurus’ crazed mind had concocted for them.

“Hey, sis, don’t mean to complain but this one’s empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?” Sherlock’s sarcasm was back in full force, and for a moment Mycroft was glad of the little bit of ‘normal’. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that Sherlock wasn’t falling apart, could pretend that he wasn’t tearing at the seams.

The screens flickered and Eurus appeared, obviously still sitting in the governor’s office as she monitored her little experiment. “It’s not empty, Sherlock. You’ve still got the gun, haven’t you? I told you that you’d need it, because only two can play the next game.” Her words sent an icy chill through Mycroft as he realised what was about to happen. A very quick calculation showed that probability was not in his favour. As much as he knew caring was not an advantage, it was powerful. He knew that if this was his choice, if he had to decide between his brother and you, there would be no doubt. “Just two of you go on from here, your choice. It’s make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most. John or Mycroft?”

With a frown, Mycroft looked at John, who just sighed and turned away, obviously fighting his own frustration and fear. This was not fair. He had spent his whole life trying to protect his little brother, and now his mind scrambled for something that could help.

“It’s an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose family or friend? Mycroft or John Watson?” The glee in Eurus’ voice was sickening, and the lights once again turned red, that infuriating ticking noise now accompanied by Jim Moriarty’s face on the screens. Anger bubbled within the usually collected man, and Mycroft felt as if he might burst. He had been caught in an explosion, made to witness a man blow his own brains out, required to condemn a man and then forced to stand silently by as your life was put in danger. This was it. This was his breaking point.

“EURUS, ENOUGH!” Mycroft yelled; his fists clenched with pure rage. The lights returned to their usual hue, and his sister appeared back on the screens, a smile playing on her lips.

“Not yet, I think. But nearly. Remember, there’s a plane in the sky and it’s not going to land.”

Cool logic quelled the burning rage within him, and Mycroft ran his hand over his face. Sacrifice the few to save the many. This was an impossible decision for his brother, but he could make it easier.

“Well?” He looked at Sherlock expectantly, taking a few steps towards him.

“Well, what?” Sherlock glanced at his brother, confusion creasing his brow.

“We’re not actually going to discuss this, are we?” Mycroft looked at John and just hoped if there was some omniscient deity that they would forgive him for what he was about to say. “I’m sorry, Doctor Watson. You’re a fine man in many respects.” Turning back to his brother with an incredibly pompous air, he attempted to show he was completely unaffected by all this. “Make your goodbyes and shoot him.”

Sherlock looked at his brother in disbelief, his eyes darting from Mycroft to John, and back again. The tension in the air was thick, and Mycroft attempted to calculate how long before his brother snapped, before the bullet in that pistol would be fired and rip through his flesh.

“Shoot him!” Mycroft’s raised voice seemed to break John out of his stupor, and he took a few steps towards the man.

“What?” John’s eyes met Mycroft’s for a brief moment, and the eldest Holmes brother knew he was doing the right thing. Turning his gaze back to Sherlock, he found the words falling from his lips naturally, as if they had just occurred to him.

“Shoot Doctor Watson. There’s no question who has to continue from here. It’s us; you and me. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don’t prolong his agony. Shoot him.”

“Do I get a say in this?” John asked gruffly, looking from one man to the other in indignation.

“Today, we are soldiers.” Mycroft turned to the shorter man and met his eye, somewhat hesitantly. He needed John to believe what he was saying, needed him to help push Sherlock to do what was necessary. “Soldiers die for their country. I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours.” Sherlock watched the interaction closely, taking in every micro expression his brother attempted to hide from him.

“Shit.” John breathed, the realization weighing heavily on him, and Mycroft could see the doctor mull over the situation. “He’s right.”

“Make it swift. No need to prolong his agony. Get it over with and we can get to work.” As John shifted on the spot and braced himself for the inevitable, Mycroft wondered what was going through his mind. Was he thinking of Mary? Of Rosie? Of the girl on the plane and the people his sacrifice could save? Staring down the barrel of a gun, what thoughts might rush through a man’s mind? Mycroft knew what he hoped his final thoughts would be. He wanted them to be you, your smile, your eyes, your laughter. He could sacrifice himself for you. He might never be able to tell you how much you meant to him, but hopefully he could show you with this act.

Sherlock half turned away from the two of them, lowering the gun, and Mycroft realised his brother needed more of a push. Steeling his nerve, he scoffed and let out a cruel chuckle. “God! I should have expected this. Pathetic. You always were the slow one, the idiot. That’s why I’ve always despised you. You shame us all. You shame the family name. Now, for once in your life, do the right thing. Put this stupid little man out of all our misery.” His heart was racing, anticipating his final moments, hoping that even through his rage, his brother could make the shot clean. He didn’t want a long, drawn out death. He would prefer to go into shock and depart within seconds rather than the agony of bleeding out. Sneering at his brother, he demanded, “Shoot him!”

“Stop it.” Sherlocks voice was soft, barely audible in the seemingly airless room.

“Look at him. What is he? Nothing more than a distraction, a scrap of ordinariness for you to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You’ll find another.” Mycroft continued, called upon everything he had ever thought about the goldfish that surrounded him, recalled the things he had believed before he met you. He knew John could not be replaced by his brother any more than you could be replaced for him. Some relationships become a cornerstone of a person, make you your best self. He wondered if you thought that of him.

“Please, for God’s sake, just stop it.” Sherlock sighed, still unable to look at Mycroft or John.

“Why?” The British Government spat with as much derision as he could muster.

“Because, on balance,” Sherlock turned slowly to face his brother with a look of heartbreaking understanding, “even your Lady Bracknell was more convincing.”

Mycroft blinked, his eyes meeting Sherlock’s, and disappointment washed over him. Even at a time like this, his little brother could see right through him. He had failed in his attempt to help, failed to ease the way.

Sherlock tilted his head in John’s direction but kept his eyes on Mycroft, as if taking in every detail for the final time. “Ignore everything he just said. He’s being kind. He’s trying to make it easy for me to kill him.”

John looked at Mycroft in confusion, the sudden change of gear had relief and concern pass over his features. “Which is why this is going to be so much harder.” Sherlock said softly as he raised the gun once again, taking a steady aim at the man who had saved his life so many times.

Mycroft gave him a small smile. “You said you liked my Lady Bracknell.” It was a silly comment, intended to let his little brother know that this was okay, that he loved him, and this outcome was not his fault.

“Sherlock. Don’t.” John stepped forward, partly blocking the shot. He knew what this would do to his friend and he couldn’t allow it. There had to be another way.

“It’s not your decision, Doctor Watson.” Mycroft stated, not taking his eyes from Sherlock. He needed to be strong, needed to make this okay. His tone was resigned when he next spoke, “Not in the face, though, please. I’ve promised my brain to the Royal Society.”

“Where would you suggest?” Sherlock asked amiably, as if he didn’t have a pistol pointed at his brother. The whole situation was so surreal that Mycroft almost laughed.

“Well, I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me.” His fingers fumbled to do up the top few buttons of his shirt. This was it. Not quite how he thought he would go out, but perhaps a most fitting end. He straightened his tie and gave his brother another small smile. “I don’t imagine it’s much of a target but…” His thoughts returned to you, and he suddenly considered that perhaps it was a larger target than people would believe. This was a good thing, bowing out now. He probably wouldn’t be very good at this whole ‘love’ thing, would only end up making a mess of it. Best leave now, before he made a fool of himself. At least he knew how you felt, that would get him through these final moments, knowing you loved him. Mycroft noted the attempted smile at his little joke from his brother, and felt a strange calm descend. “…why don’t we try for that? Just… just promise me that you will take care of her.”

Sherlock's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied his brother. How could he have missed it? All the signs were there, but he had assumed Mycroft incapable of such emotions. Looking into Mycroft’s eyes, Sherlock could see the insecurity, the longing, and as he thought back to the little interactions between you and his brother it all fell into place. Mycroft Holmes had finally found someone who had managed to sneak past all his defenses, and now he was making the ultimate sacrifice.

“No. I won’t allow this. You can’t.” John’s voice rang out in the small room, and Sherlock wondered if his dear friend was correct as he lowered the gun. Now he knew the future he would be stealing from Mycroft, could he take his life?

“This is all my fault.” Mycroft sighed, knowing the truth had to come out. “Moriarty.”

“Moriarty?” The dark-haired detective looked quizzically at him, trying to put the pieces together.

“Her Christmas treat. Five minutes’ conversation with Jim Moriarty five years ago.” The confession hung in the air, the weight of it now lifted from Mycroft’s shoulders as he saw the flash of understanding in Sherlock’s eyes.

“What did they discuss?”

“Five minutes’ conversation unsupervised.” Mycroft gave his brother a rueful smile as he sighed. He deserved this. It was his mistake to pay for.

As Sherlock raised the pistol once more, Mycroft placed his hands behind his back and braced himself. He wondered how you would remember him, how Sherlock and John would describe his role in all this. “Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers…by request.”

“Jim Moriarty thought you’d make this choice. He was so excited.” Eurus’ gleefully announced, the lights once more turning a deep red, plunging the room into gloom.

“And here we are, at the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes.” The face of Moriarty, once more on the screen, a stark reminder that even beyond the grave he could, and would, take his revenge.

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably on the spot, wringing his hands behind his back. How many times had he made the mistake of handing Moriarty exactly what he needed to destroy Sherlock? He was a weak and flawed man, you deserved so much more. That was the thought that pushed its way to the front of his mind.

Sherlock looked at him with a determined gaze, but Mycroft could see that brain of his shifting things around. “Five minutes. It took her just five minutes to do all of this to us.” He looked at John, and then at Mycroft as he lowered the gun. “Well, not on my watch.”

Mycroft’s eyes widened as he looked at his brother in surprise. Had he discovered another option? One that would let all three of them leave this room?

“What are you doing?” Eurus’ voice rang out in a demanding tone, obviously wondering the same thing as her eldest brother.

“A moment ago, a brave man asked to be remembered.” Mycroft looked at his brother in alarm as he realised what Sherlocks words meant. “I’m remembering the governor.”

Sherlock held the pistol in both hands and pressed the muzzle under his chin, as if daring his sister to do her worst. “Ten…” He began to count down in a calm, measured tone.

“No, no, Sherlock.” The image of Eurus on the screens now frowned, this was obviously not how she thought this was going to play out.

“Nine…”

Mycroft’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t allow his brother to do this, not when the situation was entirely his own fault.

“Eight…”

“You can’t!” Shouted Eurus angrily.

John took a step towards Sherlock, nervous to make any sudden movements that may end up with his friend pressing the trigger.

“Seven…”

“You don’t know about Redbeard yet.” There was an urgent element to her tone now, almost as if she were bargaining with him.

“Six…”

“Sherlock!” Anxiety was written all over Eurus’ face as she stared from the screens. Sherlock was clearly spoiling her game.

Mycroft watched his brother closely, trying to assess if he really would pull that trigger when he reached one, or if this was an elaborate bluff. He could only hope the latter was the truth. There had been so many times he had nearly lost Sherlock, but to do so in such a final way, that would break his heart.

“Five…”

“Sherlock, stop that at once!” The panic in her voice now as her control on the situation well and truly slipped away made Mycroft wonder what she would do next. Surely, she had a back-up plan. One that was probably deadly to somebody, but a contingency nonetheless.

“Four…”

A sharp scratch to his neck made Mycroft raise his hand, but the feeling of disorientation suddenly swept over him. Growing woozy, the room began to swim in front of his eyes. He was aware of his brother continuing to count as a warm blackness engulfed him, and the last thing that came to his mind, as he drifted into unconsciousness, was a hope that he would get to see you again.

[paranaturalpop]

I rate your pnat ships by how well they work as foils

I’m Professor Pops, welcome to Literature 405: comparing and contrasting in pnat ships. Love is in the air but all that really matters is narrative symmetry!

Mina and Agent Day (submitted by @anxanhh)

two women on missions who need a confidante. 

Mina is a calculating woman of science with a tender, vulnerable heart deep down that she guards. Day is a fun, giggly love goddess but beneath the surface she is just as calculating.  

They are both focused on their prospective goals to the point of subterfuge. 

They have similar missions, to solve the many mysteries of Mayview, but they’re at odds instead of working together. Will these lone wolves learn to let their walls down and work towards a common goal? 

Their spectral energies are complementary colors!!!!!!!!!!!! 

9/10 so different yet so alike. They should kiss and also develop as people.

Spendcia

Where's that post about paranatural having what my hero academia wants?

These two had interacted in cannon only once before we found out they were dating, power move on Zack’s part

The cousinhood and the consortium seem to have bad blood…. Enemies to lovers????

As teachers, Garcia is tired and phoning it in while spender is energetic and committed. But when it comes to mystery solving Spender is burning himself out while Garcia keeps him grounded.

Garcia does things like pack spender lunches with little hearts drawn on the bag but was surprised to be called his boyfriend. He acts chill but inside he is deeply invested in spender but also knows about spender’s isolating tendencies. 

8/10 there's a reason these two have been off and on again for 6ish years, they’re walking a tightrope of vulnerability.

Imaax (submitted by Rubyya)

The Destiel of Paranatural. No I will not elaborate.

Here’s a pnat history lesson, the original ship name was Maxaac, but Zack weighed in on twitter with a much better alternative: Imaax. Also sometimes called Team Lightning Rod. 

Black and blue colors, just like the emotional bruises they leave on the people around them. 

Isaac wants to be seen as heroic and Max wants to be seen as aloof. It presents in different ways but deep down they both really care what other people think.

They both fear sincerity. Isaac protects himself with theatrics and Max with sarcasm. 

Isaac puts on a big show of having strong ethics but he’s a little mean on instinct. Max puts on a big show of cutting people down with his snark and devil-may-care attitude, but when push comes to shove he’s kind and cares how other people feel. 

Max immediately insults every person he meets and they still want to be best friends with him, while Issac tries so hard to be cool and nice but people just can’t stand him. 

The meta tension between Isaac, who wants so badly to be the protagonist, and Max “magnetic personally” Puckett who is exhausted with being the protagonist, is delicious. 

There’s a reason official art tends to portray them together. They bring out the best in each other. Isaac brakes through Max’s performative pessimism and Max brings Isaac down to earth. 

10/10 these two were written as a pair and it shows.

Suzabel (submitted by Rubyya)

One of my fav tropes is ‘enemies to friends’ where the enemy part is completely one-sided. Isabel probably thinks she and Suzy get along great. 

Both the heads of their respective clubs, but with very different leadership styles. 

Isabel only studies her grandfather's spectral style to please him and is a near master of it, while Suzy is incredibly self-motivated even though her actual skills are lacking. 

Isabel is at a crucial time in her life where she’s learning to distance herself from adult authority figures in order to take on more personal responsibility. Suzy is already blazing with independence and could help her adjust. 

Inversely, Isabel could teach Suzy a thing or two about treating your club members with respect and doing the emotional labor necessary to prevent future conflict. 

Red and pink! Valentines colors! 

Isabel could kill you but would never, Suzy would actually try to kill you. 

Investigative reporter/person living mysterious double life is a great dynamic.

Back when Izzy had Eightfold they had the ship name ‘Paper Girls’ which is awesome

7/10 Don’t ask me how I know this but they would kill at karaoke together. And they’re ok foils.

Bullymagnet

Max ‘too cool for clubs’ vs a boy who defines himself by his tight knit group. 

Max is learning to be less passive aggressive and johnny is learning to be less aggressive aggressive. 

Max’s entry to spectral life was when he injured Johnny and saw a shade of a doctopi on him, and Johnny's first shade was Max's doctopi after the hit ball game. 

Johnny refuses to commit to not bullying max anymore even though he really likes him, and max is working on being nicer but he’s still gonna be snarky with people even though they’re his friends. Old habits die hard. 

If he hadn't seen that shade, Max might have joined Johnny's gang. He has the style, the stunts, the snark. 

8/10 Just two bros whose lives are changing forever.

Isaac and Dimitri (submitted by Rubyya)

Here’s my pitch for a ship name: Brainstorm

Orange and blue are complementary colors. 

Isaac hurt Dimitri accidentally somehow. Hurting others accidentally is the central theme of chapter 5. 

Idealist/pragmatist is a classic dynamic

They both have relationships with their spirit partners that are rooted in fear. 

Dimitri’s self concept is overly dependent on his sense of intellectual superiority, and Isaac’s on ethical superiority. 

7/10 have not directly interacted in the comic yet but the narrative symmetry is there

Johnny and Isabel (submitted by Rubyya)

Burnhound Vs Shockadile

These two are natural leaders who know how to treat their friends with respect.

These jocks are both lethal weapons, but while Isabel is a master martial artist, Johnny is a passionate but blunt instrument.

They’re both going through similar identity crises.

Isabel is struggling to reconcile her violent and disciplined upbringing with a good, gentle heart and Johnny is trying to reconcile his violent and self-centered lifestyle with a developing respect and empathy for other people.

Johnny dies his hair red, so he would think it’s cool how Izzy emits a fiery red aura when excited.

8/10 there's a reason these two were the team leaders in the hit ball arch.

Violet and Lisa (submitted by Rubyya)

People have been theorizing about what kind of cryptid Lisa is since day one meanwhile Violet gives off big normie energy.

Lisa is very plugged into all the Mayview weirdness as the queen of the school underground, while Violet was the only person who thought to go get a teacher during the hit ball arch. Lisa was also the only one who really spoke openly about how something was clearly very wrong with Jeff, everyone else talked around it and played by the so called ‘rules’. Lisa’s secret brokering Vs. Violet’s ‘sunlight is the best disinfectant’ attitude presents two different approaches to trying to survive in a school run by a mysterious shadow organization within a town that contains several other mysterious shadow organizations.

“If you were, I’d have to be jealous too.” just two middle schoolers pinning over their crushes.

7/10 two girls against the world.

Isaac and Johnny

ship name: Firestorm?

Just 2 fiery redheaded mediums with anger management issues that command primal forces and wanna be best friends with max

Johnny chooses to have red spiky hair, Issac has had red spiky hair thrust upon him.

Both met Maxwell Pucket and decided they needed to change for the better.

I’ve said this before but Johnny and Issac have equal and opposite philosophies. Johnny doesn't care about the greater good, he just cares about a small group of people who he loves. Issac cares about the greater good, but can’t connect with individuals and ends up hurting them. Together they form one GoodTM boy.

Both their spirit partners want revenge on Spender. This spells trouble.

If there’s anyone to teach Isaac about unconditional friendship, it’s Johnny

Isaac has sworn off violence and Johnny worships at the altar of it.

9/10 they’ve only interacted in canon once so far but I’ve think we’ve got a big storm coming.

Suzy and Collin (submitted by Rubyya)

The Bakudeku of pnat. I will continue to not elaborate.

Suzy once stole Collin's phone which prompted Collin to try to cut her hair which prompted Suzy to stab Collin and at no point did either of them think to move to a different bus seat. As different as they are they are also very much the same.

Collin is the definition of mouth service (constantly disapproving of suzy’s antics but going along with it anyway.) while suzy is all action.

Despite their different attitudes they both seem genuinely passionate about the journalism club.

Fashion icons. Suzy’s sunglasses and legwarmers, Collins sweater vests and wrist bands, this duo could walk for Paris fashion week: middle school edition.

We’ve gotten an indication that Collin cares a lot about what Suzy thinks of him (taking off his wrist bands when she made fun of Max's) but we haven't gotten any sign yet that the feelings are mutual.

5/10 I think their story is yet to be told and we’ll get to know more about how they compare/contrast to each other in the future. Maybe brought on by Dimitri's betrayal?????

Cody and Isabel (Submitted by @a-bitchtm)

Cody is gay by WOG but that doesn't matter here since we are evaluating thematic compatibility, not romantic compatibility.

Red Vs. Blue

Izzy’s arch about stepping into her role as leader through communication and honesty contrasts Cody’s role as the secret class president. Izzy finally told Isaac the truth about the consortium, while Cody blatantly lied to max about being president.

Both seem to have generally good motivations and the skills/talent to back those motivations up.

Isabel is in the process of unlearning the ‘firm hand’ philosophy that she learned from her grandpa and Cody’s dad straight up tried to mind control him into murdering a toddler.

They were both taught to fall back on their capacity for violence and intimidation but those teachings conflict with the people they really want to be.

6/10 just two kids who are being led astray by authority figures trying to learn to be themselves.

Cody and Collin (Submitted by @gatortavern)

They both like vests.

Both beholden to blood thirsty predators

Collin is a journalist, Cody is a vampire/leader of the shadow government. It’s a huge power move on Cody’s part to hang out with Collin.

Cody’s support of his friends is enthusiastic while Collin would have you believe Suzy has kidnapped him.

4/10 they hang out for a reason but those reasons have yet to be fully developed

Isabel and Max (submitted by @Paranatural-goofiness)

They’re both people who have learned to put up walls to keep people out. Isabel through violence and intimidation, max through sarcasm and mockery. T

he other side of this is their mutual journey to let their walls down and connect with other people more genuinely, starting with each other.

Their search for acceptance and identity has led them both to become incredible athletes. Spectral fist martial arts = shred eagle stunts

As we saw in the hit ball game, Izzy faces things head on while Max is all about evasion. However we’ve seen how Izzy has actually learned to be evasive and guarded about her feelings while Max is a little more forthcoming.

8/10  Never has there been faster friends.

Isaac and Cody (submitted by Rubyya)

Drama kings

Isaac wants the likability Cody has.

Parallels of power: Isaac with power he didn't choose and cant control vs. Cody who also didn’t choose to have his power (elected), but wields it like an instrument.

Involuntary anime hair and involuntary glowing monster eyes

These two definitely both fall under the category of “lawful”.

I can see these two ending up on opposite sides of a conflict because they both have such rigid personal codes and an intense sense of duty.

I know I’ve been approaching almost all of these platonically but Isaac probably really wants a cool vampire boyfriend deep down

 7/10 Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. You two should watch anime together.

Hijack and PJ (submitted by @gatortavern)

They both wanna join the activity club so bad

Both have immature ideas about heroism and villainy. 

Both aspire to heroism while at the same time understanding that they aren't that yet and maybe never will be. 

They both, like many people in this comic, wanna be friends with max.  

5/10 Two supernatural babies who should play wii sports together

Stephen and Isaac (@Gatortavern)

Two boys who are easily overwhelmed

Lawful vs. chaotic

Isaac has enough secrets to give Stephen his conspiracy fix for a long time. 

In their own ways they both just want everything out in the open. 

Isaac is Stephen's dream, someone actually living a secret double life, and Stephen is Issac's dream, someone with a cool scar who would think he’s actually very interesting. 

5/10 these two are both very intense in their own way.

Johnny and Ed (Submitted by @theevilbrainman)

Two souls lost in the wind

Two people for whom friendship and loyalty is central to their character, and they’re both struggling with personal growth because of it. Johnny is afraid to change because his friends have always liked the person he already is, and Ed is struggling to even define himself outside of Isabel, the person he cares about the most. 

Both impulsive and uninhibited. 

They both live lives free from expectation. Johnny’s wild bully persona means no one is surprised by his antics or cruelty, while Grandpa Guerra doesn't really care if Ed takes up phantom fist like Isabel. He actually calls him a freeloader. Not having much expected of you can feel free but it’s also lonely and can warp your self-perception. 

6/10 these two crossed paths at exactly the right time.

I didn't cover every submission because even though only 9 people submitted you sent in 34 ships between you. Pnat’s fanbase is small but very dedicated. 

Honorable mentions: 

Johnny and clear sinuses, submitted by @gaul-the-unmitigated

Isaac and therapy, submitted by both @squidgeons and @somethingfishysgoingon

PJ and Johnny, submitted by @gatortavern, who seems to be under the impression that Johnny Would protect PJ and not destroy him just by breathing near him.

Day and Scabs, submitted by @gatortavern, because funny.

Special thanks to everyone who sent in ship between people who have never interacted in cannon, which was a lot of you. My eyes are opened now, so many possibilities.