#i put all of the headcanons in here. all of them

[cursed-cube]

So a common headcanon/theory I’ve seen floating around is that when Okarun shifts into his yokai form, the personality shift he undergoes is representative of a “truer” inner self. I can see the line of logic that led to this, but the more thought I’ve put into it, the less I’ve agreed with the premise. And I’ve put so much thought into it at this point that it’s had to become its own whole post separated from the analysis it was originally a part of, so strap in.

Disclaimer: if this is your personal headcanon, I’m not here to try to prove you wrong or make you change your mind, I’m more so discussing this from the theory side of things and what I think will happen as the manga continues. Also slight manga spoilers for up to chapter 172 !!

So as the theory goes, the personality that comes out when Okarun’s transformed is a more genuine version of himself, where his yokai form removes his anxieties and allows him to act more confidently and openly show the depression and pessimism that’s lived in him the whole time. On a surface level this tracks, as being in this form does make him more confident, blunt, and he completely drops the formal way he speaks to people, going so far as to adopt a cute nickname for Momo.

I don’t think this fully makes sense for a number of reasons, though. Firstly is that throughout all 175 chapters that are currently out, I can’t recall any moments where Okarun ever acts in a way that would hint at his real inner workings reflecting the personality and behavior that come out when he is transformed. I could have missed something, of course, but when so much of Momo and Okarun’s relationship is built on them being their genuine selves around the other (more on that in this great video I saw), I’m inclined to believe that there isn’t going to be another shoe to drop nearly 200 chapters in.

To explain my other reasoning, I’m going to have to go into a little bit of a side tangent about Aira, and first I want to establish why I think comparing Okarun to her in this instance makes sense. So up until the cursed diorama arc, the only character that really has comparable yokai related powers to Okarun is Aira. They acquire these powers in different ways, and Seiko says Okarun has Turbo Granny’s “spiritual power”, whereas Acro-Silky says she gave Aira her “aura.” Given the contexts of the scenes these are said in I would assume they are meant to be two different concepts, however it’s not ever explicitly stated or shown how the difference there affects them or their yokai abilities, so I am treating them as functionally the same thing for this analysis. Regardless, the similarity between them seems to be that in one way or another, they have been left with the spiritual energy of their respective yokai, which allows them to transform in very similar ways. Their transformations affect them both physically in making them taller and stronger, as well as their personalities, with Okraun becoming less formal overall, and Aira becoming more formal in the way she addresses people.

Even though they are affected by their transformations in very similar ways, I haven’t seen any kind of headcanon or theory that the way Aira behaves while transformed is how she truly is or feels, which makes perfect sense considering her first character arc. From when she’s introduced, she’s shown to have a dynamic with Momo, Okarun, and her other peers at school, where even before she’s able to use Acro-Silky’s abilities, she’s pretty two faced. In chapter 51, Momo even says, “There’s our Aira!” when she and Okarun pull Aira away from her class and she immediately shifts to her more snarky attitude towards Momo. The manga makes it quite clear that the way she acts at school, and on occasion towards Okarun, is an act, and that her genuine personality is a little nasty and rude (which she is loved for! By other characters and audience members of taste). And with that established, of course no one put that much emphasis on how her behavior changes when she’s using Acro-Silky’s powers. She’s still the same person, her mannerisms and the way she speaks are just altered slightly, which is also pretty much how I feel about Okarun’s yokai form.

That being said, I don’t want to fully dismiss that the shifted personality could mean something, and in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if Okarun did still have some repressed feelings and pessimism from his time growing up without any friends, but at the current point in the story I’m not sure if I could see that being shown explicitly tied to his yokai form. As of chapter 165, Okarun gets his final ball back, and as per his end of the deal, he returned Turbo Granny’s spiritual power to her, and she left with them and hasn’t made an appearance since. Okarun no longer has access to his yokai form, but at this point he’s surrounded by friends, he’s confessed his feelings to Momo, and he’s even grown physically strong enough to hold his own in a fight without any powers. As far as what we’ve been shown, Okarun has developed and his life has changed so much that he doesn’t really have any of those reasons to be a pessimistic downer that he had before the events of the series. Not to say he has no reasons to be sad, of course, we still haven’t been given even a hint of what his family and home life is like, and I expect something will happen with that eventually. But with where the story has gone so far, I don’t see this theory being true or narratively compelling.

TLDR: There’s not much evidence going for this theory, and several things against it, so I personally don’t see it going anywhere in the canon series. The way Okarun acts and the feelings he expresses in his yokai form could still potentially mean something, so I won't completely dismiss it, but with where the story is currently I don’t think this theory being true would add much or be a compelling element of the plot.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hi!! just wanna say you are my fav gravity falls author and im so obsessed with your fics for stan 🙏🙏 could i please have a stan x fem!reader smut where stan just REALLY likes tits. like a LOT. you have full creative freedom to go wherever you want with this idea i just wholeheartedly believe stan is a tit man <3 thank u and plz never delete this account youre the coolest 💞

Stan Pines is obsessed with you and your breasts ♡ (headcanons + blurb)

author note: hii, angel!! thank you sm for this sweet message, i'm literally melting and giggling and smiling rn!!! i can't even tell you how much this made my day, you're so kind and your words honestly mean the world to me 🤍 

i had so much fun with this idea, so here’s something for you bc ur wish is my command! i hope it’s what u expected. and thank you for supporting me! ♡

I need this grumpy old man so bad, guys send me more asks bout him also comments and/or reblogs are always appreciated, kisses u💋

nsfw, fem reader

♡ Stan is absolutely shamelessly obsessed with tits. your tits, specifically. big, small, somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter! he’s a hungry fucking man. he fucking loves breasts. worships them. adores them. can’t keep his damn eyes (or hands, or mouth) off them. “you’re gonna kill me with these things, doll, fuckin’ hell, look at ‘em.”

♡ the first time you caught him staring, you were a little shy about it, but he didn’t even try to deny it. “what? they’re right there! whaddya want me to do, not look? it’s like puttin’ a steak in front of a starving man and tellin’ him not to eat!” and you made the mistake of saying, “you could touch them if you wanted to.”

♡ because now his hands are always on you. always. you’re trying to cook? his big hands are sliding up your shirt, squeezing, kneading, thumbs brushing over your nipples, he’s testing just how fast he can make that little gasp slip from your lips. and god, all of that is being done with that smug grin on his face. “what? i’m helpin’.” sure, Stan. sure

♡ I wanna develop idea about cooking more, so: as i said, Stan can’t keep his hands off you when you’re cooking. for him it’s just an excuse to get his hands on your body. except him to come up behind you, press his broad chest into your back, let his hands rest in your waist as his lips ghost over your neck, muttering “damn, you look so pretty, baby, you sure you don’t wanna skip dinner and come straight to bed?” when he’s rubbing his growing bulge against you while you’re stirring the pot, literally humping you in the middle of the kitchen. It’s hard not to laugh at how desperate he is

♡ the type of man who’ll insist he’s innocent even when he’s shamelessly and obviously staring. you could be fully dressed, wearing the baggiest clothes known to man and this filthy old bastard is still eye-fucking you. “what? can’t help it, doll, you’re beautiful.” no shame. zero!

♡ of course Stan loves to bury his face in your chest. it’s his happy place there. his hands sliding up your sides as he presses his face between your breasts, groaning, “fuckin’ heaven, toots. yer like a damn pillow, but better, so soft, so warm.” while you let your fingers run through his hair. It’s more about being intimate and soft though

♡ “goddamn, look at these beauties. best fuckin’ view in the world, ain’t it?”

♡ he’s a sucker for leaving marks on your breasts. bite marks, hickeys, little bruises from his teeth and fingers

♡ uhh. . . hear me out, him stuffing dollar bills into your bra as a joke (or no). “figure they’re safer here than my wallet anyway.”

♡ Stan loves when you wear anything that lets him see your nipples, especially when they’re hard (from cold or because you’re horny?), he goes crazy when thin shirt or a dress hugs your body. “goddamn, sweetie, could stare at those for hours.”

♡ his guilty pleasure is watching you put lotion on after a shower. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing the cream over your arms, shoulders and chest and that old man is drooling

♡ Stan is so domestic, he loves the way you look in the morning, your breasts barely covered by his tank top that you stole. you stretch, yawning, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and he’s already pulling you back into bed. “don’t care what we had planned today, baby. yer stayin’ right here with me.”

♡ Stanley gets so distracted when you’re undressing in front of him. doesn’t matter if it’s casual or if you’re trying to tease him, once your top comes off, his eyes are immediately glued to you while his cock already twitching to life in his pants. “jesus christ, woman, yer tryin’ to kill me. c’mere and let me get my hands on ya.”

♡ and when he finally gets you laid out on the bed, his hands worshiping every inch of you, oh, he takes his sweet time. dragging his thumbs over the stiff peaks of your nubs, leaning down to wrap his lips around one, sucking gently before giving it a teasing bite. he’s grinning against your skin when you gasp his name, one hand slipping down to spread your thighs apart while he gets comfortable between them. “love when you make these sounds. what’d i do to deserve this, huh?”

♡ oh, his tongue too. it’s wet and warm, circling slow before he flicks the nub just to watch your back arch. his free hand squeezes your other breast, pinching and tugging lightly on the nipple. he groans from how heavenly you taste. “softest damn tits I’ve ever had my hands on. christ, baby, I love you so much.”

♡ if you let him, he’ll press his cock between your breasts, his hands squishing them together as he ruts into the softness, groaning like a goddamn mess. “fuck, baby— mhmm, your so fuckin’ soft, look at this, huh? takin’ me so good, atta girl.”

♡ more thoughts about breasts fuck. i personally think Stan would love it? because there’s something about the sight of his heavy cock sliding between your breasts, the way you press them together for him, making a perfect, soft little channel for him to fuck into like a needy old man he is. he gasps, praises you, worships you whole as he watches himself disappear between them, his tip slick and glistening with precum every time it peaks out

♡ “fuck, doll, keep squeezin’ ’em like that. jesus, yer gonna make me cum just from lookin’ at ya.” and he does, oh, he does. he spills his seed all over your chest. and when he’s finished, Stan isn’t shy about making a mess, watching his cum drip down your breasts

♡ when he’s drunk, Stan gets even more handsy than usual

♡ you get him worked up sometimes by accident. like, when you’re reaching for something high up on a shelf and your shirt rides up, giving him the perfect view of your waist, those soft curves that drive him absolutely crazy. Stan will mumble something like “god, babe—gimme a second, I gotta go fix somethin’ in the back room. . . you know how it is with my old bones.” but it’s all a damn lie because he just needs to take a breather after staring at your body for the last five minutes

♡ Stan absolutely loves when you’re riding him, leaning over with your tits pressed into his face. he doesn’t care if it’s just for a few seconds or longer, he wants to feel them on his lips. he’ll lift his head slightly to suck on your cute nipples or trail hot kisses down your cleavage, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes his hips up to meet you. “sh-shit, baby, lemme just. . .”

♡ you lean over the counter while talking to him, doesn’t matter if you’re talking about what’s for dinner or how the vending machine ate your dollar, his eyes are locked on your chest only, already undressing you in his mind. he’ll mutter something gruff like, “yeah, uh-huh”

♡ loves to make you squirm. Stan’s a teasing bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brushes his thumb over your sensitive nipple slowly, watching it pebble under his touch. “sensitive today, huh? what’s the matter, sweetheart? thought ya liked it when i played with these pretty little nubs of yours.” and then he pinches, just to hear you gasp and watch you press your thighs together 

♡ i swear, Stan will make excuses to get you on his lap, just so he can slide his hands under your clothes and play with you while you sit there all flustered, giggling silly. “ain’t no law against touchin’ my girl, is there? c’mon, lemme have my fun, been thinkin’ about these all damn day.”

♡ as I mentioned, he’s a sucker for when you’re on top, bouncing on his cock while his big hands squeeze your waist, holding you so tenderly in his arms despite how hard and rough he bucks his hips into you, his mouth is latched onto your nipples. the way your breasts move drives him insane

♡ during lazy, slow sex, Stan loves lying on his side with you pressed against him, one hand massaging your breast as he thrusts into you slowly from behind. his lips are at your ear, whispering filthy things about how soft and warm you feel

♡ but when it’s rough, he’s gripping your breasts so hard you’ll have finger-shaped bruises the next day, pinching your nipples just to watch you arch your back and tremble under him, “you like that, huh? that’s right, my good fucking girl,” and every word he says he punctuates with a thrust. “can’t get enough of me touchin’ you, can ya?”

♡ reminder: Stan doesn’t just love your breasts because they’re sexy, though, yeah, they are. he loves them because they’re yours. soft, warm, comforting, just like you. and if he can bury his face in them and forget about the rest of the world for a little while? that’s just the cherry on top! a nice bonus!

♡ bonus: little blurb 

sight of you in his suit jacket, oh god. that thing swallows you whole but it’s too big for you so it hangs off your shoulders, exposing your skin, letting him see your thighs as well. Stan’s jacket, smelling like cigars, is over you in a way that makes his throat go dry. and underneath that beautiful little bra you knew would make his head spin, it’s lace and soft cups hugging you in ways he wished his hands were right now. your cleavage drawing his attention like a magnet. no, it’s too goddamn much for Stan to handle

he’s slouched on the armchair, legs spread wide, trying to keep himself from losing control. his eyes latch onto the soft lace of your bra, the way it cups your tits just beautiful enough to tease him. he looks so needy already and you’ve barely touched him

“Jesus christ, doll.” sounds like he’s choking on his own breath. “yer doin’ this on purpose, parading around in my jacket, showin’ off these tits like some goddamn pin-up doll, huh.” his lips curl into a smirk

perfect, just exact reaction you waited. you bite your lip, stepping closer, swaying your hips for him. you play it coy, of course. shifting the jacket like it’s just slipping off, letting one strap of your bra peek out more. “what? this old thing?” you smile like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing

and then he’s got his hands on you in an instant, dragging you into his lap because he can’t stand another second of his pretty girl being out of reach. his palms feels rough as they grip your hips, tugging you down until your thighs straddle his.

“you tryin’ to kill me, toots? walkin’ around like that, wearin’ my jacket.”  

your knees settle on either side of him, and his hands waste no time sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and straight to your waist, holding you close to him because this man is always starved for physical contact. his thumbs dip under the edge of the jacket, brushing the bare skin just above your bra

“Staaanley,” you breathe, your lips hovering just above his. your hands tangling in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“No, no, no, don’t you ‘stan’ me, pretty,” he mutters, and one of his hands slips behind your back to unclasp your bra with a flick of his fingers, the other cupping your breast like he’s been dying to touch you all day. “you don’t get to tease me like that, wearin’ this fuckin’ outfit, and then say my name like some innocent little thing. you know exactly what you’re doin’, don’tcha?”

his thumb brushes over your nipple and then his lips follow, placing wet and hot kisses along your breast, sucking gently before biting down to make you gasp.  

“That’s it,” he groans against your skin. “wanna hear all those pretty little sounds you make, baby. fuck, you’ve got me harder than a goddamn rock.”  

he’s saying true because you feel the evidence of that pressing against your core, even through your panties. his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers pressing against the damp fabric and you whimper when he rubs slow circles over your needy clit.  

Stan grins as he pushes the lace aside. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. all this from me touchin’ your tits? jesus, doll, yer even dirtier than i thought.”

his fingers tease your wet entrance, rubbing over your folds before dipping inside, and your head falls against his shoulder, moaning as he pumps them slow and deep.  

“C’mon, baby,” Stanley brushes his lips over your ear as he fucks you with his fingers, his other hand still kneading your breast. “tell me who you belong to. say my name, and i’ll give you everything you want. everything. I’ll fuck you so good.”

you moan his name, digging your nails into his shoulders 

“Yes, that’s it,” his hand moves faster. “gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

[burningcheese-merchant]

I know that it is highly unlikely that it is the case, but come and give it a thougjt with me (Yandere Spice with a twist).

What if: Burning Spice, despite being completely obsessive and being the sadomasochist he is, routinely cuts off the heads of animals and cookies and brings them to her the first time with a love letter (he used to be the Herald of Change, so I'd imagine he's got- and retained- some brains, enough to at least write a psychotic obsessive love letter).

Now, Golden Cheese is obviously gonna freak the f out and gape as he shoves the head into her arms (probably throw it into the air and back up in panic) while Burning Spice- though displeased at first, just grins manically at her reaction soon enough (maybe even laughing), before he grabs it and shoves the letter and head onto her hands again and leaving.

Golden Cheese, having noticed his reaction to her throwing it, becomes concerned with what he might do if she doesn't accept the 'gifts', decides to keep it (She flies hella fast and enters through her window and hides it in a secret compartment in her room, before creating a hidden room the other gifts in the future).

Now, here's the twist:

Despite the shock and horror she displayed to Burning Spice's gift, she knew that deep down... She fucking loved it. She silently revels in it, even. At having so much of the Beast- A cookiebeing you could practically almost consider primordial and all-powerful-'s attention and taking up so much of their headspace. To be obsessed over adored by someone like that, so much so that they would go out of their way to behead someone and something and write a love letter daily, just to give it to her as a gift-

In short, she absolutely loves the attention she will never say it and will keep that to her grave and Burning Spice and everyone else is none the wiser of it. Of how she'd kept every letter and laminated every single one with the care and cautiousness and love one would use when holding thin glass, of how she intentionally goes out alone every day for a few minutes just so Burning Spice would 'see an opening' and give his gift, where Golden Cheese would then act terribly disgusted and horrified, and then keep the gifts. Ignorant of how she has a room full of the 'gifts' he's given her- which she'd taken the time to personally taxiderm each and every one, before hanging it on the wall like a reward or trophy. Of how she'd come to the room every night to just adore it just the sight makes her want to coo and purr in delight for a few minutes to an hour, before going to bed and resting.

Sorry for the rambling and the long paragraphs 😅😅

This is such a horrifying (in a good way) concept that I MUST acknowledge it and give my take!!! Gonna put it under a cut because this is particularly dark

Yandere Spice basically acting like a cat is so fucking funny to me lol I love it

I'm so glad you think Spice is a smart guy due to having been the Herald of Change/History, because I think that too! He simply HAS to be intelligent, even wise to a degree. It would be ridiculous if he wasn't; being buff doesn't automatically mean you're dumb. And I LOVE the letter thing, I've always headcanoned Spice (the "normal" one, not the yandere one) as writing Golden romantic poetry (and her liking it lol. It helps win her over).

Now, with the murder gifts: of course Golden is horrified. Not only has Spice ended innocent lives, but he did it for her. In a way, it's her fault, and she feels horrible. Animal, person/cookie, doesn't matter, Spice has killed again and he gives the fruits of his sinful labor to her as a declaration of "love". It's sick. No matter how deranged she finds him, he finds a way to sink lower. (But... one thing: he never hurts birds. He has never once brought her a dead bird, because even he knows that's a step too far and she REALLY won't like it. It's the one little drop of care and tact that he possesses.)

But that twist: somewhere beneath all those layers of shock, disgust and righteous anger is... flattery. Sick, twisted flattery. There's nothing Golden loves more than being praised, than being worshiped, than being showered with attention and gifts... and Spice is doing that. He's feeding her ego, albeit in the worst way possible. And so great and terrible is her ego, no matter what she does to temper or suppress it, that somewhere deep down inside, she enjoys what he's doing. That he'll gladly kill for her. That he'll show off his hard work in search of her praise and admiration. She is a goddess and he knows it. He is giving her the adulation she rightfully deserves.

Now, of course, this contradicts her normally altruistic nature, and she has a massive crisis of conscience. She keeps everything Spice gives her, she keeps the heads and the letters and stores them all properly, because... Well, she tells herself that it's better this way. If she refused them, he would retaliate, if not against her then against another innocent. If she preserves the heads, she can later discover who they belonged to and hopefully return them to the person's family (and it was the least she could do; clean them up, give them back even a fraction of their grace and dignity...). If she reads the letters, she'll have better insight into his mind and how he thinks, and thus be able to formulate a better response to him and his behaviors. These excuses are what she mutters under her breath over and over as she sneaks the heads into her room, through the window so no one sees her. As she tidies and laminates the letters, and stores them in a secure folder that she tucks into a box under the bed (which eventually becomes boxes, the more and more letters she gets). As she expertly taxidermies the heads and places them on nice shelves in a hidden closet in her room. It's better this way. She has to do this.

...and these are all true, they really are. But at the same time... Existing alongside this pain and terror and crushing guilt, is the sick joy in knowing that she has someone wrapped around her finger this completely. And a Beast, too. The Beast of Destruction, no less. Burning Spice himself, heads over heels in love with her, willing to do anything to have her. It shouldn't please her to have a monster practically at her beck and call, but... it does. It really, truly does. And no matter how much she hates herself for it... It's never enough to make it stop.

Sometimes, she'll hint at a specific person she doesn't like - usually a known enemy of her kingdom - just to see if he'll do what she thinks he will. Sure enough, the next time they meet, he has that person's head ready for her, all but puffing his chest out in pride and grinning that hideous, face-splitting, cruel grin of his. She acts upset, but she's actually pleased to know that she was right: he WILL do what she tells him to, just to please her.

Sometimes she'll stand there admiring her ever-expanding taxidermy collection, congratulating herself on her hard work; she does a better and better job every time. (And when the guilt comes bubbling to the surface, asking her why they're still here and not with their loved ones so they can have a proper funeral, she tells it that Spice will lose it if he catches her giving them away. Or she'll be made out to be the one responsible, since she's the one who has them. Or they're dead, their souls have departed to the afterlife, what happens to their mortal vessels matters not anymore...)

Sometimes, when she's in bed at night, she'll pull out the letters and read them. Sometimes she'll read one, sometimes a few, sometimes all of them. Some are surprisingly sweet and romantic, full of oddly gentle and doting words; she can feel the warmth and affection soaked into the page. Others are downright vulgar; she feels her own face catch fire as she reads through what are obviously his fantasies, the list of ways in which he wants to pleasure her so long and graphic that she suspects he wrote them one-handed, if you know what I mean. The rest are just flat-out deranged: feverish rants about his ownership of her, how he hated and wanted to get rid of those around her, how she took everything from him (his power, his sanity, his heart, his soul) and he was willing to pardon it if she gave him everything of hers in turn. How he will never stop hunting her. How he will slaughter thousands to get to her. How he will bring the world to ruins just to have her to himself. Madness. All-consuming delusion that she fears is incurable.

But the worst part is... she doesn't know if she wants it to be anymore.

All she can do now is... hope he never finds out. Hope he never knows she feels this way. That she relishes his kills, his gifts. That she has a godforsaken trophy room now. That now she's as starved for his attention as he is for hers. (And he will. The idea is simply too tantalizing. He WILL find out eventually, someway, somehow - and when he does... Oh boy.)

TL;DR: Golden is so greedy that her greed has warped her into being as bad as Spice, at least in her own way. They probably deserve each other at this point. Pure, incorrigible arrogance and psychopathy all the way down. God/Witches have mercy on us all

[frankingsteinery]

i’ve seen a lot of people in general agreement of the headcanon that victor is on the spectrum, but i’ve very rarely seen someone examine the why, and being the persnickety superfluous person that i am (and not being immune to projection myself) i thought i’d try my hand at it and break down his autistic traits!

disclaimer that this interpretation is speculative and is simply my unprofessional neurodivergent opinion + it’s based on contemporary understandings of psychology, which were not part of shelley's context, however autistic people have always existed even if there wasnt a word for it during that time period, etc etc. you know the drill

without further ado!

-- communication & social interaction

first and foremost, many autistics struggle with socialization. victor’s inclination to attach himself to a single friend (henry) and only talking to those inside of his close circle rather than forming many connections reflects this tendency, and he himself acknowledges his dislike and indifference of strangers. for example:

“It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them”

“My life had hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic, and this had given me invincible repugnance to new countenances… I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers”

furthermore, he lacks relationship degradation (he does not require regular interaction or relationship maintenance to sustain a bond). during the creation process, he (presumably) goes months without writing to his family and friends, which clerval lectures him for:

“Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their account myself."

yet upon his arrival at ingolstadt:

"...nothing could equal [his] delight on seeing Clerval."

victor also takes things literally several times and social nuances can fly over his head. he demonstrates this literalism when first meeting elizabeth:

"And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine"

and, of course, the infamous i will be with you on your wedding-night scene, when the creature obviously means he tends to harm elizabeth, not victor himself:

“It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.” I started forward and exclaimed, “Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe!"

he also goes nonverbal and groans/vocalizes instead of speaking when upset. there's several instances of this that i can recall (i believe another is with walton), but i could only find one, where elizabeth has to speak for him during their visit to justine:

"When she saw who it was, she approached me and said, “Dear sir, you are very kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?” ... I could not answer. “No, Justine,” said Elizabeth"

and this is more of a sidenote but he gives walton every. minute. detail. of his story, including his childhood in-depth (which was not particularly relevant to the moral of victors tale, which was the whole reason he wound up sharing his story in the first place) which definitely feels like. Something. reminiscent of infodumping almost.

-- repetitive behaviors

victor shows both repetitive motions and repetitive language to such an extent that it'd be ridiculous to put them all here, particularly when he is distressed and agitated. some of these motions include clasping his hands, covering his face with his hands, and gnashing his teeth, which he does on walton's boat, after finding out about william's death, in his confrontation with the creature, during his time at the orkney islands, etc. the use of certain phrases/verbal repetition  include his many "great god!"s and "begone!"s, which he usually says in reaction to the creature or while grieving a loved one. these behaviors are arguably self-stimulatory (stimming) and done to cope with overwhelming, stressful situations.

-- fixations/spinterests

ths one's perhaps his most blatant characteristic. victor has a highly focused, intense interest, initially in in the workings of the world itself:

"It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn... still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world."

"The world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover;"

"I have described myself as always having been imbued with a fervent longing to penetrate the secrets of nature"

this is to the extent that his education is noticeably different from his peers, both in acceleration in the topic of his choice and neglect of other, more typical studies due to the intensity of this focus:

“I confess that neither the structure of languages, nor the code of governments, nor the politics of various states possessed attractions for me.”

“…but by some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my accustomed studies.”

this early fixation eventually narrows into a special interest in ancient alchemy, after victor finds one of agrippa's works and a "new light seems to dawn upon [his] mind," upon which he proceeds to acquire all the works of agrippa and other authors:

"When I returned home my first care was to procure the whole works of this author, and afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures known to few besides myself"

this remains his special interest until he is a teenager, upon which, after finding out ancient alchemy has been disproven, he takes up mathematics until his arrival at ingolstadt. then, his interest shifts into a fixation on natural philosophy, particularly chemistry, which becomes his "sole occupation":

"He concluded with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget... one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose"

"I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects... the stars often disappeared in the light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress was rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and my proficiency that of the masters"

which, of course, develops into an interest in physiology and the structure of the human frame, which leads to his obsession over the secret of life, followed by being "thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit" during the creation of the creature.

-- intense, volatile emotions; resistance to change

in general, victor is very emotionally demonstrative, and has difficulty managing these emotions. he also experiences quick fluctuations in emotion. this is something he has experienced since childhood, and is something he maintains as an adult, when he acknowledges that:

"My temper was sometimes violent…"

some examples of these shifts in emotion:

"My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy..."

"Sometimes he commanded his countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression of the wildest rage as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor"

hand in hand with his emotional dysregulation, he shows resistance to change and has strong reactions to this change. the most obvious example of this is during the animation of the creature:

"The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature... but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart"

"Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!"

but it also occurs when moving to ingolstadt, suggesting a discomfort with unfamilarity and a need for stability:

I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away and indulged in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual pleasure—I was now alone.

-- black-and-white thinking

this aspect is most clearly shown through the way victor thinks about, and drops and gains interests and relationships. he spends years studying ancient alchemy and it is his principle interest, and then drops it on a dime and suddenly looks upon this passion with contempt:

“By one of those caprices of the mind which we are perhaps most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former occupations, set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed and abortive creation, and entertained the greatest disdain for a would-be science which could never even step within the threshold of real knowledge. In this mood of mind I betook myself to the mathematics and the branches of study appertaining to that science as being built upon secure foundations, and so worthy of my consideration”

later, he spends four years with his mind filled with "one thought, one conception, one purpose" studying the processes of life so intensely he forgoes adequate food, water and rest. this culminates in the creation and subsequent animation of the creature, which he again turns around and abandons this interest immediately, to the extent that he cannot bear to think of natural philosophy:

Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even to the name of natural philosophy.

it's a very polarized, all-or-nothing approach that is mirrored with his relationships, too, which he alternatedly neglects -- he cuts contact when he goes to ingolstadt but abruptly picks it up again when henry comes into his life; when the creature flees victor's apartment, victor treats it as if he never existed entirely; his family only comes to the center of the narrative again when he gets the letter from alphonse about william's murder, despite 2 years having been passed at ingolstadt, etc.

and finally;

-- low empathy

victor repeatedly focuses solely on his own internal emotional experience, and struggles to fully comprehend and understand the depth of feelings of others and respond with compassion in conventional ways. during justine's trial, for instance, he elevates his own suffering above justine's, even as she faces her literal execution:

I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold.

Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony. 

similarly, victor dismisses ernest's grief after william's death, he frames it in terms of how it affects himself -- telling ernest to "be more calm" to avoid causing his own discomfort:

Ernest began to weep as he said these words. “Do not,” said I, “welcome me thus; try to be more calm, that I may not be absolutely miserable the moment I enter my father’s house after so long an absence.

this detachment suggests not deliberate cruelty (victor very clearly loves his family, and he's said to be kind several times) but a limited capacity to process and respond to other's emotions. this is a detachment that extends to his views of the dead. during the creation of the creature, he refers to the corpses he utilizes as only "materials" instead of once having been fully-fledged human beings, and he does not contemplate the lives or dignity of the deceased.

aaaaaand thats it! thank you for indulging my. headcanon projection land. let me know what you all think...

[cheshiresense]

Oh my God, you mentioned wanting to write a thing about when Starrk finally let's his reiatsu out, and honestly, I've been thinking about that so much!!! Like here is Starrk, who has been keeping his reiatsu down to around average, who sleeps all the time, so doesn't stand out, who stands beside Ichigo, Ichigo who crazy stands out, also Starrk who joins the 4th, the 4th who everyone else considers to be weaklings!! You imagine the look on everyone's face the first time he let's lose!?! Maybe some bullying goes too far, and Starrk, who nobody thinks much of, just smacks them down hard!!! And everyone is like WTF lol 😆

sorry, I just love the idea of when people realize that Starrk is actually strong like Ichigo!! So 😁 funny!! Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts about this. I love reading them.

Lol yes it's one of those scenes that you see happen in so many different ways and all of them would be fun. I'm undecided on how I want to do it Officially so I'm putting it off (or maybe I'll just write several of them lmao).

I imagine it would have to be very serious bullying for Starrk to take that much action, cuz like he really isn't the sort to step in for every little thing. If it happens to someone he considers one of his, he might note it down and then quietly go and prevent it from happening again from behind the scenes, but in real time, he'd rather diffuse the situation or leave it to the "victim" to handle it and only step in if it looks like they really can't, and even stepping in would just be a sharp word or two to run the bully off. He's not a straightforward bleeding heart the way Ichigo is, cuz the hit-the-problem-so-it's-no-longer-a-problem method is def Ichigo's go-to strategy, he would absolutely smack the shit out of someone bullying Asuka or Rangiku in front of him and be done with it right then and there, prob flaring his reiatsu without even meaning to cuz his control's a lot better these days but it's also kind of 0 to 50, well-hidden or flashing neon sign, no in-between unless he really concentrates 😂 It's another reason Starrk would have little reason of his own to act, cuz like Ichigo would absolutely beat him to it.

For me, I could prob imagine him unleashing his reiatsu/revealing his strength if someone's about to die and the threat is big enough that he actually has to flex. He's just not someone who'd easily show what he can do, and hiding it from the likes of Aizen and the Quincy wouldn't even be his top reason. It's more like lingering PTSD--his strength doesn't bother him anymore now that he's had years of proven control under his belt, and he's even needed every last bit of his power over the past decade of war, but subconsciously, he's still not 100% comfortable with just letting anyone feel it, even tho he has enough control now that it wouldn't hurt them unless he wants it to because what if? So like, his first instinct will always be to keep it locked down, and for minor stuff (altho minor is relative for him I guess lolol), pulling out that much power is def a last resort.

Again, it contrasts what Ichigo would do. Ichigo's just used to overkill. Like even before he got his powers, he learned that an overwhelming show of strength would solve most of his gangster-related problems very easily, plus he lived in a household where Isshin only backed off from kicking him into a wall or something by kicking first or kicking back. And then after he got his powers, it's not even really his fault that he internalized a "might is right" kind of mindset /points at the entire fucking SS invasion arc and honestly every arc after that/. And also he spent his first years of Shinigami-ing running around with an unsealed Zanpakutou and zero reiatsu control, being in a constant state of Shikai is natural for him, and (moving into this AU's headcanon territory) it took him several months into the Quincy War before he finally learned to seal it away and actually have other ways of fighting that isn't just flinging Getsuga Tenshous around. He uses Bankai the way other people use hand-to-hand combat or Kidou spells, so even now, his first instinct is to just hit the problem hard enough so that it won't get back up to do more harm, and for him, that applies to everything from schoolyard bullying to fighting monster-gods. And on top of all that, his actions are largely driven by emotion. More than anything else, his first reflex is to protect, and that often leads to him throwing way more power at a threat than he actually needs to. He knows how to be more subtle these days, but it's not his preferred method and def not a reflex either the way it is with Starrk.

Of course, Starrk also understands "might is right" just by dint of being a Hollow, but he's basically spent a thousand years as someone too strong for anyone to fuck with just by existing, so he doesn't have the same kind of exposure to physical conflict that Ichigo grew up with that would make violence his first instinct.

Aanndd omg this ran away from me lmao sorry, you get a speedrun analysis on Starrk and Ichigo instead 😅

TLDR I'm still not sure of any exact scenarios that would force Starrk to show his hand, I don't want to wait until a Sternritter shows up or a final showdown vs. Aizen happens because that would take forever before we get there (I mean I could just jump right in there since this isn't a whole fic, but in-universe-timeline-wise, I'd prefer it happening earlier), but it's difficult for me to imagine that something in everyday life or even just a Hollow extermination mission would be enough to make him reveal even a bit of what he can really do.

Case in point, if you remember that mission in SP canon where Shunsui brings Ichigo and Rangiku along on a mission into the Rukongai to gain experience, and Ichigo sees a Hollow about to attack Shinji who hadn't spotted it yet, but he also didn't want to leave Rangiku unprotected, he went straight for unsealing his Zanpakutou and basically hand-delivering a shopping list of unusual or downright unique abilities to Aizen via Gin. In this AU, if Starrk goes along, he would never do such a thing, and in fact, he'd stop Ichigo and just fire a damn Byakurai or something across the clearing and kill it that way. Even if Ichigo doesn't have the finesse to pull off a low-numbered Kidou spell on the fly, he could've chosen a higher-numbered one and that would've still revealed far less to Aizen than unsealing his Zanpakutou would. But again, subtlety isn't his strong suit. He now at least has the presence of mind to think about the consequence of leaping into the fray without thought, it would leave Rangiku wide open, but his first instinct is still to use overwhelming strength to protect the people he cares about.

In contrast, Starrk may be a soft touch compared to basically every other Hollow and quite a few Shinigami, but he has the maturity and just the general personality to go for the strategic option. He has a far more tactical mind, implied even in canon to rival Shunsui in that department, so rushing in just isn't in his nature.

The only other way imo is if someone just... asks. Reikaku (reiatsu-sensing) is a thing Shinigami learn. In canon people can sense exactly who's coming just by their reiatsu (if they know them), not just if they're a Shinigami or a Hollow or even a Human, but it doesn't really expand on how. So I imagine you have to have a good feel for the person's reiatsu, it's the same as my age headcanon for reiatsu, not only can someone halfway decent at sensing reiatsu be able to get an idea of the other person's age, they would also be able to recognize and associate that reiatsu signature with that person since everybody's is different, but obviously they would have to be exposed to it a few times to learn it. Starrk's reiatsu is very unique so once or twice would be enough, and I can see a situation where the kids might ask to feel it for that reason, or a mission might require the team leader to ask, etc. etc. So yeah, that's all I got.

[floweycidal]

do you think when flowey was a wee weed and just got into calling himself flowey that he had a kind of embarrassing stage he does not want to talk or even think about where he tried too hard to be the opposite of asriel and it was so obvious everyone could tell it was asriel

BAHAHAHAHA, YOU BET I DO! this is probably going to be as headcanon-y as it gets (kinda), sorry in advance. but really, making him a total sopping wet soggy loser is the best part of writing him. it's my favorite angle, no doubt.

the first month of being "flowey" was an exercise in second-hand embarrassment, except the person you're embarrassed for is yourself. and you can't even leave the room to escape it, because surprise! you are the room. you're a flower. stuck there. living it.

he had it all planned out. goodbye asriel dreemurr, the prince of crying-at-literally-everything, hello to... whatever cool and clever thing he was supposed to become. the details were fuzzy, but he figured being soulless meant the whole "evil" thing would come naturally.

it did not come naturally.

the cracks showed almost immediately. everything he tried just came out wrong. his threats sounded more like worried suggestions. his evil schemes kept accidentally making things better. his idea of entropy was essentially community service with attitude.

he couldn't even get the basics right. he'd tried tossing out sick burns, but they'd just hit with all the impact of a wet napkin. they weren't even insults half the time—just weirdly specific observations that petered off awkwardly.

he sucked at it. no way around it. he sucked ass.

so, he worked harder. determined to sound edgy, bad to the stem—whatever that meant—but it didn’t seem to take. every affront felt more like an accident than an attack. 

and the laugh. god, the laugh. he practiced it, forced it, tried every variation. dry chuckles, derisive cackles, even an exaggerated villain’s howl. none of them worked. what kept slipping out instead was the exact same dorky laugh that used to bubble up when #she would do silly voices during storytime.

this was the worst. he was the worst at being the worst.

his own body double-crossed him at every turn, still running on years of ingrained kindness his mind was trying to stamp out. he'd be right in the middle of his most "menacing" speech yet, really getting into the whole eternal suffering thing, when someone would sneeze.

"bless you!"

every. time.

the number of “villainy” monologues ruined by his automatic politeness was actually impressive. really, it was almost a talent.

it was a drawn-out process, this transformation. no guidebooks or cheat sheets. however... i’d argue the closest thing he had to a mentor here was toriel.

she didn't know it was him. obviously. somehow that made it worse, because she kept almost-recognizing things. little stuff he hadn't managed to burn away yet.

a familiar turn of phrase. how he'd end sentences. that godawful giggle that still sounded too much like pillow forts and frolicking in the mud. how he’d fill glasses, just enough to make them brim above the edge. the efficient way.

each time her eyes would catch on these moments, these tiny betrayals of self, he'd slam that reset button with all six petals. nu-uh, no buckaroo.

her reactions were the compass he followed, pointing to what needed to be carved away. reset after reset, he got better at it. harsher. finer. a little less like the kid who used to run up to her with flower crowns and scraped knees. 

the kindnesses got rarer; the callousness came easier.

never easy enough, though.

she'd still tilt her head sometimes, something glittering in her eyes like she was hearing the first few notes of a song she’d once known by heart. and he'd realize he'd effed up again, let some stupid little piece of asriel show through.

she’d never know she was teaching him how to stop being her son. to her, he was just some weird flower guy that occasionally felt eerily familiar, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

every time she almost intuited something in him, he'd reload, desperate to finally become someone she wouldn't know at all.

ahhhhh. and so it came full circle. in his frenzied bid to unlearn being her child, he was still (by the most bruisingly contorted logic) turning to her for guidance. still just a kid, looking to his mom for answers. just… not in the way either of them would’ve wanted.

[whatatime2balive]

It's (Not) My Right To Be Hellish

Pairing: Caitlyn x Vi

(A/n: I made this fic last night and completely forgot to post it to my tumblr account. I will post the ao3 link right after this.  I found out that the creator of Arcane had a headcanon that Vi had a prison wife and I was like "what if I used that in a fic to cause problems!" Alright, so this essentially takes place after the battle act 2 in season 2. We're just pretending that some random magical occurrence stopped the fight early and both sides had to retreat with minimal casualties. Also this is post heartbreaking apology from Caitlyn so her and Vi are friends again. I have not seen act 3 yet so this is all merely under the assumption of everything I know now. Anyways, I love jealousy fics so please enjoy and let me know what you think!)

Vi feels dead on her feet, which is a rather common occurrence these days. As she walked alongside Caitlyn and Maddie, she began replaying the past few weeks in her head as she usually does no matter how hard she tries to ignore it. The battle against Ambessa ended before it even really began. After Isha shot that gun into the air, a massive earthquake broke out which completely destabilized the surface everyone was standing on. It didn't matter what side you were fighting for, everyone immediately fled to get to safety. Honestly, Vi thinks it's a blessing in disguise.

Vander's condition is still up in the air, but they're holding out hope he will pull through. Isha was badly injured from the blast, but they managed to get her to a hospital before the kid went beyond the point of no return. Poor girl can't stay conscious for more than ten minutes, but she's stable and the doctors said she will only improve from here. Jinx hasn't left Isha's side once since she was hospitalized.

And Jinx, well, it's so beyond complicated. As of right now, her and Caitlyn managed to find it in themselves to call a truce until Ambessa is no longer a threat. They're civil for now, so Vi's content.

The only thing that's significantly changed for the better is Vi's relationship with Caitlyn. After everyone fell back, Caitlyn pretty much broke down and apologized so many times that Vi lost track. Vi was hesitant to put any trust in her, even after the battle against Ambessa. It was more of a temporary team up than anything in her eyes.

But Caitlyn sure as hell made it her mission to prove herself. She's already jumping in and allocating resources back to Zaun to improve their quality of life even though it's only been three weeks since the battle. Seeing how invested Caitlyn is in helping the lives of the citizens in Zaun made Vi open up back up to her and before she knew it, it was like no time had passed at all between them. They were friends again.

The problem is that friends are all they would ever be.

Once the two girls reconciled, Caitlyn told Vi that her and Maddie slept together a couple of times in those four months they weren't on speaking terms. It's like someone took a knife to the Zaunite's chest and tore it open. That was Caitlyn's polite way of saying the kiss she shared with Vi was a one off thing that wouldn't happen again.

The minute Caitlyn finished telling her about the situation with Maddie, Vi had immediately cut her off and said that was perfectly fine. She physically did not think she could stand hearing a verbal rejection from Caitlyn, so Vi merely insisted it was no big issue and changed the subject. Vi can't even blame Maddie, who wouldn't fall in love with Caitlyn?

Even after everything that happened between them, the brawler is still a pathetic lovesick fool over that damn sharpshooter. But now that Caitlyn sincerely apologized and is actively righting her wrongs? Damn, Vi really wants to make out with her.

Yet, she can't. Maddie is the one dating Caitlyn, not Vi.

Vi can't even find it in herself to hate Maddie. As a matter of fact, she became rather fast friends with the shorter woman. Maddie's a sweet girl that's been pushing for peace since the first day she clocked in as an enforcer. She doesn't judge Vi for her past in Stillwater like many other enforcers do and she makes great company since Caitlyn's spent most of her time drowning in work as of late.

At the end of the day, it was probably for the best. Maddie's the kind of girl that can hang on Caitlyn's arm without people watching them in disdain. Since Vi gets more and more pathetic by the day, she will take any small morsels of friendship Caitlyn will offer her.

Even if it hurts, Vi really is just grateful to have that damn unhinged mongoose in her life. Just being friends would be enough. It had to be. Though it certainly doesn't help that Vi essentially moved in with Caitlyn until she can find a place of her own. It doesn't seem to bother Maddie, so Vi's been trying to keep an appropriate distance between herself and the Piltover girl.

Life isn't perfect. Far from it. But Vi has hope now. That is so much more than she could have said one month ago.

Today was beyond draining. She's so fucking exhausted, it was probably a mistake to agree to going out tonight. But, well, Maddie insisted that the two of them along with Caitlyn should get a couple drinks at a nice bar to take a bit of the edge off. Vi's pretty sure there's not enough alcohol in all of Piltover to get all her edges off, but she supposed relaxing even a little bit is progress.

So here Vi is, walking at Caitlyn's right while Maddie is strolling on the tall woman's left as they venture to the bar Vi can't even remember the name of. Vi was snapped out of her inner musings when Maddie lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

"Earth to Vi? You in there?" Maddie softly asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I totally zoned out for a hot minute. What were you saying?" Vi asked apologetically.

"I was saying how excited I am to take a breather. It feels like everything around us has only been getting more and more stressful. A chance to unwind is going to do us all some good," Maddie confidently told her.

"Especially you, Vi. Every time I see you, your brows are furrowed," Caitlyn giggled.

To prove her point, Caitlyn lightly dragged her finger against the middle of Vi's brows to smooth out the creases. Vi didn't even know she was furrowing her brows at all. Caitlyn gently stroked the spot a couple more times and Vi could already feel herself start to lean into the touch. How the hell is she so pathetic that the smallest form of physical contact makes her melt?

"What can I say Cup- oh shit I'm dying," Vi hastily blurted out while pretending to cough.

Calling Caitlyn cupcake is a habit Vi is trying really hard to break. She's seen Maddie look upset a couple times when Vi uses the nickname, so out of respect for their relationship, she's been trying to stop. Vi totally gets it. She knows if she were Caitlyn's girlfriend, another girl giving her some cutesy nickname would piss Vi off to no end.

"You alright Vi?" Maddie frowned.

"Yeah, managed to choke on air somehow. I'm just special that way," Vi lied.

At least she caught herself before saying the full nickname. Vi was about to say something else when a feminine voice behind them started to speak.

"Well I'll be damned. If it isn't inmate 516, roaming free once more," the soft voice laughed.

With absolutely zero hesitation, Vi grabbed the shirts of the two enforcers and dragged them into the alleyway that was conveniently right next to them.

"Get your guns out now," Vi hissed.

Caitlyn already had her rifle pointed before Vi could even finish the sentence. Maddie took a split second before following her boss's lead.

"Who on Earth is that?" Maddie whispered quietly.

"Admittedly, I don't know. But they called me by my prison number and everyone in Stillwater absolutely despised me. Not to mention the fact that anyone who's ever known me has tried beating my ass at least once. Better not chance it," Vi whispered back.

"Oh c'mon Babe, do you really not recognize me? I'm hurt, truly," the voice giggled.

Vi's eyes widened and she stepped out of the alleyway, ignoring both Caitlyn and Maddie's protests. Only one woman has ever called her babe.

"Holy shit. Sarah?" Vi asked with wide eyes.

The figure right before her is wearing a cloak covering her face. Then she pulled it back to confirm Vi's suspicions. Standing right in front of her is Miss Sarah Fortune in the flesh.

"Miss me Babe? I know I missed you," Sarah grinned with open arms.

Vi laughed in pure disbelief and rushed into the other woman's arms. Sarah immediately wrapped her arms around the shorter woman and pulled her in even closer. Vi genuinely can't believe it. After all these years, here she stands, alive and well. Oh, what a relief.

"Of course I missed you. I'm honestly surprised you didn't get your ass thrown back into Stillwater," Vi cackled, holding onto her even tighter.

Sarah looks like she always did, but now she's so much more alive than Vi has ever seen in Stillwater. Obviously, prison tends to dull the average person's inner light and everything, but Sarah very clearly is thriving post imprisonment. Her ginger hair has a shine now that it didn't before, those bright blue eyes held much more wonder, and her lightly tanned skin is much softer than it used to be. Being a free woman suits her well.

"Clearly, our guns are unnecessary in this particular scenario. Who's your friend Vi?" Maddie asked while lowering her gun.

"Yes. Tell us, Vi. Who is your friend?" Caitlyn asked with narrowed eyes.

The way she said friend kind of sounds like the way most people would say disease. She didn't even lower her gun yet. That girl really needs a drink.

"Huh. Never thought you of all people would be rolling with enforcers," Sarah said, still locking Vi in an embrace.

Right, the other two girls are still in uniform. She can understand why Sarah would be weary.

"Ah, well Maddie, Caitlyn, this is Sarah. Sarah, Caitlyn and Maddie. It's a long story, but you can trust them. Maddie's never given me any shit for my past in Stillwater and Caitlyn's the one who actually got me released," Vi explained.

At this point, Sarah unwound herself from the hug. Then, to Vi's immense surprise, she held her hand out to Caitlyn.

"In that case, I should be thanking you. If anyone ever deserved to be free, it's Vi," Sarah said.

"Of course. Vi deserves the world," Caitlyn simply stated while cordially shaking her hand.

Vi is going to try really hard not to blush at that. Try is the key word here. Sarah then went to shake Maddie's hand as well. Apparently living in the free world made the woman civilized. That’s something Vi did not expect.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm sure if you guys can put up with Vi's bitching, you must be alright," Sarah grinned.

Maddie laughed. Caitlyn did not, which surprised Vi because that would be a perfect opportunity to make fun of her. To be fair, Cait's been off tonight anyways. Vi simply scowled and shoved Sarah lightly.

"Please, you know you missed me and my bitching," Vi scoffed playfully.

Sarah grinned and slung her arms around Vi's shoulder. The brawler didn't mind the contact, she's always been a touchy feely kind of person with the people she cares about. Sarah's always been rather physically affectionate too, so this is nothing out of the ordinary. The next words she said were not as ordinary.

"I also miss making you my bitch," Sarah whispered into Vi's ear so quietly only she could hear it.

Vi blushed bright right and immediately nailed the redhead in the stomach with her elbow over the sexual innuendo. Sarah laughed and managed to keep her arms over Vi's shoulders.

"Arrest her on the counts of being insufferable," Vi groaned.

"Please, we'd both be locked up for life," Sarah snorted.

"You two are hilarious together. It's pretty cool that you two are able to reunite now of all times. How long have you guys been friends for?" Maddie asked them.

"Vi and I were a lot more than friends back in Stillwater," Sarah said with a shit eating grin.

It would appear that the blush has only gotten worse. It's so embarrassing that her first instinct is to downplay the relationship so that Caitlyn doesn't get the wrong idea, only for Vi to immediately remember Caitlyn does not give a damn. The woman is in a relationship for god's sake. She does not care about Vi's love life, past or otherwise.

"If you want to get technical about it, yes, she was my prison wife. For what, two years?" Vi answered while looking to Sarah for confirmation.

"I thought it was three. To be fair, time bleeds together when you're imprisoned," Sarah shrugged.

"Something like that. Point is, we were prison wives until like a year before Caitlyn busted me out. She just up and disappeared one day," Vi told them.

"Fuck, I am so sorry about that. I didn't know it at the time, but an old friend of mine pulled some strings and got me out early. I had no idea I was getting let out until I was literally dragged by my hair out the door. I tried convincing my friend to get you out too but their pull was only for one favor. I would have written letters but," Sarah trailed off guiltily.

Vi knew. Stillwater doesn't allow any contact from the outside world. Letters are a no go out there. The shorter woman nudged her former lover slightly.

"Relax, Red. I'm happy you got out. You didn't know, you couldn't exactly give me a heads up. Besides, I'm here now too, so everything kind of worked out," Vi told her sincerely.

She honestly meant it too. Sarah's made some nasty mistakes, obviously since she wound up in Stillwater, but she really is a good person deep down. Vi really has always cared about Sarah. It's hard not to when she was the only source of positive human interactions Vi had in that hellhole.

"Well, it has been lovely meeting you, but we have plans tonight, so we really must get going. I do hope we didn't disturb any plans you might have as well," Caitlyn said urgently, already ushering Vi away.

Why did she sound like they're in such a rush? Oh shit, do they have a reservation? Or are they supposed to be there by a certain time? Vi definitely wouldn't have spent the whole time just talking and standing in place if she knew.

"Ah, don't worry about it, I don't have anything to do tonight," Sarah shrugged.

"Really? Then you should join us! You guys seem like you'd have a bit to catch up on. Besides, the more the merrier right?" Maddie asked while looking at Caitlyn.

"I'm not entirely sure where we're going is Sarah's scene," Caitlyn started quietly.

"Oh, that's a great idea! Do you mind, Cait?" Vi asked her.

Caitlyn looked over at her for a moment and Vi could have sworn her eyes softened. Maybe that's just her being delusional.

"If you really want her around, I don't see why not," Caitlyn said with a smile that looked a little too strained to be sincere.

Vi was focusing more on the fact that she could actually interact with Sarah without someone ready to beat them up at all times. She's relieved that the other two women were nice enough to include Sarah.

"Please tell me we're going for drinks," Sarah sighed as the four of them started to resume their walking.

"You must be a mind reader. Maddie and Caitlyn say the place is great, but I've never been so we're taking their word for it," Vi told her.

Sarah nodded as she moved her arm from Vi's shoulder only to link their arms together. It's nice. Familiar and warm. Sarah's always been a source of comfort for Vi. Looks like some things never change.

"Wait, how did you know it was me when you called out? I was faced away from you and my hair's dyed black. How'd you recognize me?" Vi questioned.

"Babe, I know those back tattoos like I know my right hand," Sarah smirked.

Vi is going to really fight down the blush this time and merely rolled her eyes. Of course she'd say something like that. To be fair, her tattoos are very distinctive, even for people who didn't use to kiss them. Vi kind of wonders what it would be like if Caitlyn kissed her tattoos-nope! Not going to go there.

"I gotta say, I love the black hair on you, but I miss the red. It was just so, Vi," Sarah smiled.

"Yeah, I'm planning on dying it back to my natural hair color soon. The black hair's been fun, but I miss the red too," Vi told her.

"If you need help, I can do it. I'm pretty good at dyeing hair," the redhead informed her.

"That is a very thoughtful offer, but I already agreed to it. I've even got the dye back home. You don't need to worry about it," Caitlyn told her with an almost vicious smile.

Perfect, now Caitlyn and Sarah are glaring at each other. Something tells Vi this is going to be a long night.

**********************

Through the whole walk to the bar Vi still doesn't know the name of, Caitlyn's been acting odd. Like, really odd. She keeps side eyeing Vi and Sarah's interlinked arms while giving Sarah very terse answers. It's really unlike Caitlyn to be so blatantly rude to someone she just met. She wasn't even this bad when she got Vi out of Stillwater.

Vi is starting to suspect that Cait and Maddie got into a bit of a fight earlier. Any time Maddie tries initiating any sort of physical touch, Caitlyn always shies away. Granted, Caitlyn always shies away from Maddie's touch, but Vi's pretty sure that's because of her enforcer reputation. She mainly thinks the two fought because of Cait's attitude towards Sarah.

Vi supposes it doesn't matter that much. Sarah's not bothered by it and Vi can't think of many scenarios where the two would frequently cross paths. It's also very possible that their personalities just don't click.

After what feels like years, the quartet made it to the bar. It was a nice place that had a soothing atmosphere about it. Perfect establishment to take a moment to wind down for a minute.

"I intruded on your plans, first rounds on me. What do you guys drink?" Sarah asked.

Caitlyn opened her mouth, probably to interject, but Maddie thankfully beat her to the punch.

"Oh, thank you! I'll have an old fashioned and Cait usually goes for a gin and tonic right?" Maddie asked while looking at the other woman.

Caitlyn simply nodded in response. Vi opened her mouth to tell her order only for Sarah to wave her off.

"Whiskey sour, I know what you're about. Take a seat and I'll find you guys," Sarah nodded.

The three of them moved to sit at a table with four chairs. Vi was sitting across from Caitlyn and Maddie went to the chair next to Caitlyn's. There was a moment of really awkward silence before Maddie spoke up.

"Man, what are the chances you run into her after over a year of not being able to see each other?" the shorter woman asked.

"I know, I'm still kind of reeling a bit myself. To tell you the truth, I was worried about her. I didn't know she was getting let out early. I had been terrified that something worse happened," Vi sighed.

"Thank god everything worked out. She seems like a pretty cool person. What do you think, Cait?" Maddie asked.

"She's fine," Caitlyn deadpanned.

Damn, so she does not Sarah at all. It disappoints Vi a little bit even though it probably shouldn't. Vi just wishes all the important people in her life could just get along. At that moment, Sarah returned with their drinks. A small round of thank yous went around the table.

"Now then, who wants to hear humiliating stories about Vi when she was in prison?" Sarah smirked.

"I know I do," Maddie teased.

"Literally don't even start with me or I swear I'm drinking your shot," Vi glared.

By god, Vi had so many embarrassing moments in prison. She did not need the girl she liked or the girl she liked's girlfriend to have this kind of dirt on her.

"Babe, trust me, you don't want my shot. So basically, Vi walked up to this guard right," Sarah started.

"That's it, fuck you," Vi glared and snatched the shot.

"Babe, you really don't," Sarah started, but it was too late to save Vi.

The moment the alcohol hit her taste buds, Vi had to fight the urge to retch. Sarah quickly put the chaser to Vi's lips and managed to get her to swallow it. Vi winced and covered her mouth. That was such a mistake, why does she do this to herself?

"Are you alright? I don't think I've ever seen alcohol hit you that hard," Caitlyn asked, voice laced with concern.

"You know, it's actually the funniest thing, Vi can not stand vodka. She's totally good with every other kind of alcohol, but for whatever reason her body just can't handle vodka," Sarah told her.

The redhead is now soothingly rubbing Vi's back as she tries to recover from that heinous shot. All Vi's focused on is not physically convulsing. It would appear that her pettiness gave her some immediate karma.

"I totally deserved that," Vi managed to groan out. Sarah laughed and squeezed her shoulder.

"Probably. I'll be back. For obvious reasons, I need another drink," Sarah chuckled.

"Now obviously I don't know much about your guys' relationship, but you and Sarah look pretty good together, Vi," Maddie teased once Sarah left.

"Please, Vi could do better than that," Caitlyn scoffed while rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I get you're probably weary of her because she was thrown in Stillwater, but Sarah's not so bad," Vi insisted. She felt a very strong urge to defend her friend after everything she's been through.

"I'm getting another drink," was all Caitlyn said before leaving the table.

Vi hadn't even noticed Caitlyn's drink was already gone at this point. She must have guzzled that thing.

"I'm so sorry, I'll go talk to her. I don't understand what is with her tonight," Maddie sighed as she got up to follow the other enforcer.

Vi nodded and took a small sip of her own drink. She really didn't get Caitlyn's problem with Sarah. Even if it was the whole she's an enforcer and Sarah was an inmate, by that logic Maddie would be acting the same way.

At once, the answer hit Vi like a ton of bricks. Of course, Caitlyn's blatant disdain for Sarah is so obvious now! Sarah must have gotten in trouble with the law and Caitlyn had to take care of it!

That made perfect sense. It genuinely would have surprised the Zaunite to know that her ex managed to stay out of trouble with the law. While Sarah certainly wouldn't do anything major to draw attention to herself after Stillwater, it would be just like her to commit some petty theft crime. Caitlyn must have been one of the enforcers that had to deal with Sarah. It explains literally everything about how those two dislike each other.

That even explains why Maddie is perfectly fine with Sarah. She's a junior officer that just started going on the field, so it's likely she hasn't dealt with too many run-ins with criminals.

"Hey, where'd the enforcers go?" Sarah asked as she returned to her seat.

"Caitlyn needed another drink and Maddie followed," Vi explained.

She figured she's just going to ask Caitlyn about whatever Sarah did later. After so long of not being able to see one of her closest friends, she doesn't want to taint the memory of getting into whatever stupid shit she's done since her release. Obviously whatever Sarah did was either insignificant or already taken care of since Caitlyn isn't trying to arrest her.

Vi twisted herself a little bit in her seat to get a better look at Sarah. It's the first time they've been aloneish since reuniting and she looks more vulnerable now. More open. Sarah took one of Vi's hands in hers and squeezed it gently.

"I was worried about leaving you in there," Sarah admitted quietly.

"I was worried about what happened to you when you left," Vi softly told her.

"I meant what I said to that enforcer chick. If anyone ever deserved to be free, it's you," the redhead smiled.

"You give me too much credit," Vi chuckled.

"You don't give yourself enough. I will say, even though I'm happy we're both out of Stillwater and everything, I think it's so fucked up that we can't even have sex anymore. The sex was good when we were in prison, imagine how awesome it would've been as free women," Sarah sighed mournfully.

"Oh, why can't we have sex now?" Vi asked in confusion.

Vi doubts Sarah's in a relationship given what she just said and how touchy she's been throughout the night. Maybe she got an injury or something?

"What, are you forgetting about that blue haired girlfriend of yours that looks like she wants to pull that gun on me every time I interact with you?" Sarah asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What? Cait and I? No, her and Maddie or dating. I'm single," Vi clarified.

Honestly, it feels like a slap in the face for her to have assumed Caitlyn liked her back. Vi prays she's not obvious in her feelings, she does not need or want to cause anymore problems.

"Well if that's the case, I feel bad for the Maddie chick. Blue Hair does not like her," Sarah scoffed. Vi opened her mouth to defend the relationship before Sarah leaned in close. "But more importantly, you're still single?"

Vi laughed and nodded. Sarah stared at her for a long moment, as if she was considering something.

"Sail away with me," Sarah decided to say. Vi's brain short-circuited.

"Huh?" Vi ever so eloquently asked.

"I've got a boat, a decent sized crew, and a world undiscovered. C'mon, think about it. You, me, the vast open sea, a lot of sex," Sarah teased.

"Oh my god do not tempt me right now, that sounds so nice," Vi sighed.

It really, really did. The idea of just dumping all her problems here and sailing off with the beautiful redhead sounded too good to be true. She could ignore the pain of losing her family, of losing Caitlyn, of losing everything she held dear.

"But I can't. I'm sure you've heard about the issues with Piltover, Zaun, and Noxus. We're getting ready for war. I have to protect my people. All of them," Vi frowned.

"Disappointed, but not surprised. You've always been a fighter, that's why you got your ass thrown into solitary half the time. I get it. Even so, now that I know you're free, you're stuck with staying in contact with me now. I'll write you so many letters you'll get sick of my handwriting. I'll be telling you where the ports I go to are, so you'll have no excuse to not write me back," Sarah smiled.

"You got yourself a deal, Red," Vi grinned.

"And hey, maybe when the dust settles, you can sail around for at least a little bit with me. The offer will always stand," Sarah told her.

"I will hold you to that," Vi nodded.

Just because she can't ditch her responsibilities at the current moment in time doesn't mean that a vacation in the future is out of the question. Granted, this is under the assumption that Vi gets to have a future, but there's no need for technicalities right now.

"Well, I am still here for a couple weeks, so that sex offer is still on the table," Sarah whispered, leaning in close.

Vi, yet again, is tempted. Sarah knows what she likes and is familiar to her. Vi might not burn at her touch or yearn for the smallest bit of contact the way she does with Caitlyn, but Sarah is still wonderful. Vi was saved from making a decision when a glass cup slammed on the table. Both former inmates jolted and looked up to see Caitlyn giving them a stare that kind of made Vi fear for her life.

"Sorry. I saw a spider," Caitlyn plainly said. Vi's eyes widened and she quickly stood up.

"Oh please tell me you got that little fucker," Vi hissed.

"I didn't take you for an arachnophobe, Violet. You can take down fully grown men twice your size but you're running at the first sight of a tiny spider. It's cute, really," Caitlyn teased with a glint in her eyes.

Vi felt warmth spread across her chest. That's the Caitlyn she knows and loves. Hopefully that drink she got is helping at least a little bit.

"Oh whatever, Cup-Caitlyn," Vi snorted, internally kicking herself for the slip up of the nickname.

Whatever enjoyment Caitlyn had from messing with Vi was immediately gone. The woman across from her grimaced and looked down at her drink. Shit, now even Caitlyn's getting uncomfortable with that nickname.

Vi resisted the urge to sigh and took a swig of her own drink. It really is going to be a long night.

**********************

Once the four of them decided that they drank enough for the night, Sarah split off from the group once they left the bar. She was close to the port where her boat's docked, so there wasn't a need to walk her home or anything. Once Vi and Sarah shared a quick hug and exchanged contact information, the redhead was off.

The walk back to Caitlyn's place was mostly silent. A tension Vi can't quite place was swimming all over the trio. It felt like forever until they reached the Kiramman household. Caitlyn gave Maddie a quick farewell and walked through the front doors.

So admittedly, Vi was under the impression they would be walking Maddie home. When she realized she was actually quite wrong, Vi gave Maddie a hasty goodbye and followed Caitlyn.

When Vi walked through the front doors, Caitlyn was sitting on the couch and pouring herself another drink. Apparently she simply did not get enough in the past two hours. Vi figures now is as good a time as any to broach the subject of whatever Sarah did.

"Alright, you can be honest with me, what the hell did she do?" Vi sighed as she sat next to Caitlyn.

"What the hell did who do?" the taller woman asked.

"Sarah. What did she do?" Vi asked.

"I'm not following," Caitlyn plainly stated.

"What crime did Sarah commit after she's been free? Her impulse control has always been shit, it doesn't surprise me that she's had a run in with the law. Just tell me what she did," Vi sighed. Caitlyn looked her up and down for a moment, then turned away from her.

"If Sarah's done anything illegal, I wouldn't know about it," Caitlyn told her.

Vi's jaw actually dropped. A million questions are going through her head right now. However, she only verbalized one.

"The what the fuck is your problem with Sarah?" Vi blurted out.

Caitlyn yet again slammed her cup on the table in front of her. Vi's surprised it didn't shatter upon impact.

"Do not taunt me, you know very well why I don't like her," Caitlyn spat.

Vi has genuinely never been as lost as she is right now. How in the fresh hell is she supposed to know why Caitlyn dislikes Sarah to this extent?

"No, I really don't. Look, I get you might be weary of her past at Stillwater. Hell, I can't blame you for not liking her personality but," Vi started, only to get cut off by the woman in front of her.

"Personality? You think I don't like Sarah because of her fucking personality?" Caitlyn practically seethed.

"I quite literally can not comprehend any other reason!" Vi exclaimed in pure distress.

Actually what is happening right now. Caitlyn pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. The Piltover woman clenched her jaw and looked directly into Vi's eyes.

"If you're really going to make me say it out loud, then fine, I'll say it. I don't like her because it is very obvious to me just how much you like her," Caitlyn scowled.

"I genuinely want you to know that I have never been more confused in my life than I am right now. Why does it matter if I like Sarah?" Vi asked.

"Everything you do matters to me!" Caitlyn snapped.

Vi's confusion is only worsening as she stares at Caitlyn. Her blue eyes held so much pain that it made Vi sick to her stomach. She wants to help. She wants to ease the pain Caitlyn is in immediately. Vi tried to find some kind of words of comfort but the other woman simply kept on going.

"It matters to me that you can't stand vodka. It matters to me that you still get nightmares about Stillwater. It matters to me that when you smile, your entire face glows. It matters to me that you've been pulling away from me. It matters to me that I deserve your rejection and hatred. It matters to me that I want so badly to be in your life and you don't want the same," Caitlyn blurted out, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Vi fought the urge to cry. It was so close to a confession and yet not. The Zaunite merely sighed and moved to grab the glass Caitlyn slammed on the table.

"You need to go to bed, Cait. You're dating Maddie, you really shouldn't be saying things like this," Vi sighed.

"What? I'm not dating Maddie," Caitlyn frowned.

Vi dropped the glass in shock. Miraculously, it didn't spill or shatter. When this emotional crisis is over, Vi has to know what kind of indestructible glass cups Caitlyn buys.

"What? I one hundred percent thought the two of you were together," Vi honestly told her.

"No, no, I never even considered it. I suppose we can tack that on the list of reasons why I'm a terrible person. I was always clear with Maddie that our relationship was only physical and bound to be temporary. I think she got a bit too hopeful along the way," Caitlyn sighed.

Holy shit. Vi's actually the dumbest woman alive. To the shock of absolutely no one, unfortunately. Okay quick Vi, stop staring at her like a dumbass and actually say something to comfort her. Vi moved closer to Caitlyn and firmly held onto her hand.

"I never hated you. I couldn't even if I wanted to. I've been pulling away because I thought you were dating Maddie. I didn't want to cause any problems there so I thought giving you space was the best thing to do. I mean, you even seemed to hate it when I called you Cupcake. I slipped up a couple times tonight and you just looked so upset. I thought I was just doing what you wanted," Vi shrugged.

"I only looked disappointed tonight because you kept correcting yourself. I never thought I'd want to be called something as ridiculous as a cupcake until you stopped calling me one," Caitlyn softly admitted

"Hey, you take that back. Cupcake's aren't ridiculous, they're absolutely delightful," Vi softly joked.

A small smile swept over Caitlyn's face that made Vi's heart pound in her chest. There has never been a more beautiful smile than the one right in front of her.

"Why did you think I was dating Maddie?" Caitlyn suddenly asked.

"It may seem stupid now, but it's because you told me about the fact that you guys slept together. I took it as your way of telling me that kiss didn't matter and was a one time thing. So I just kind of changed the subject to avoid hearing it out loud," Vi sheepishly told her.

"I only told you about Maddie because I was trying to be honest and have you hear it from me. Looking back, it probably would have made more sense to ask you out before mentioning it. I thought you brushing it off and changing the subject was your way of saying you weren't interested. I didn't blame you, especially after everything," Caitlyn sighed.

"You know I've already forgiven you and I already know you meant it. I just can't believe we're both this stupid. See, this is expected behavior from me, but I thought you were smarter than this Cupcake," Vi teased.

Caitlyn let out a laugh this time which sent Vi into a fight of giggles too. Once their laughter died down, Caitlyn reached out and gently cupped her hands under Vi's face. The Zaunite leaned into the warm touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

"Will you just be my girlfriend? It doesn't matter how long I have to wait or what I need to do, I want you to know that I adore you and no matter what the future holds, I want you by my side. I'm going to work every day to be deserving of you so I just," Caitlyn rambled before Vi cut her off with a kiss.

"Yeah, I'll be your girlfriend, Cupcake," Vi giggled once they pulled apart.

Caitlyn looked like someone told her she won the lottery with how ecstatic she looked. It filled Vi's heart with joy knowing she's responsible for that look. It was at that moment that Vi came to another realization.

"At least the mystery of tonight is finally solved. You were so jealous of Sarah it made you seem insane," Vi grinned. Caitlyn blushed and rolled her eyes.

"So what if I was?" the Piltover woman grumbled.

Vi honestly wasn't expecting her to admit it, especially not so quickly. She simply chuckled and moved in to kiss Caitlyn's cheek.

"You don't have to be. I've only got eyes for you, Cupcake," Vi smiled.

"You should know you don't have to worry about Maddie. As totally fucked up as it is to say, I only started sleeping with her because her eyes reminded of yours," Caitlyn sighed.

"I think what's even more fucked up is how happy that makes me," Vi honestly stated.

Before she could even blink, Caitlyn yanked Vi in for another kiss. This one was different from the first. It was desperate, hungry, and it made Vi feel like she just got lit on fire.

The Zaunite kissed back with just as much vigor. Caitlyn broke the kiss only to move her lips down Vi's neck. Those soft lips pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along her neck. Vi audibly gasped when Caitlyn found the crook of her neck.

Caitlyn got the message that it was her sweet spot and started sucking at the vulnerable spot. Vi moaned at the unexpected action at an embarrassingly high volume. In an attempt to recover some of her dignity, Vi bit her lip to prevent any noises from coming out. Caitlyn pulled back a bit and frowned at the sight.

"As hot as you are biting your lip, I want to hear you. I've wanted this for so long words can't even describe it," Caitlyn said.

With that, she returned to making sure no spot on Vi's neck is left untouched by her lips. Vi could only cling onto Caitlyn's shirt as she was ravaged by the taller woman. Reluctantly, Vi allowed the low moans and gasps to escape her lips.

"How do you feel about taking some clothes off, hmm?" Caitlyn asked, searching Vi's eyes for any sense of hesitation. There was absolutely none.

"Let me touch you, Cupcake, please. I need to," Vi begged.

Caitlyn didn't need much convincing. While Caitlyn took both her pants and shirt off, Vi could only manage yanking off her shirt before getting pulled into the other woman. Now they're both laying side by side on the thankfully large couch, bodies entangled with one another.

Holy fuck, this is really happening.

"Tell me what you want from me Caitlyn, shit. I'll do anything you need me to," Vi breathlessly told her.

"Aren't you a good girl, hmm? So eager to please," Caitlyn smirked.

Vi blushed brightly at the call out while Caitlyn took off her bra. She guided Vi's head down to her breasts. Safe to say, the shorter woman got the message really quick. Vi took her beautiful girlfriend's left nipple in her mouth and traced the areola with her tongue. Caitlyn gasped and put a hand in Vi's hair, urging her closer.

As her mouth was working on Caitlyn's breast, Vi's hands began trailing up and down the taller woman's soft sides. She gently massaged and squeezed them, allowing Caitlyn to melt under her touch. Her mouth quickly went to the right nipple and began to give it the same treatment as the left. Caitlyn's ragged breathing is merely edging her on. Vi can already feel herself getting wet from everything she's doing to her lover.

"Inside, I need you to put your fingers inside me," Caitlyn insisted while tossing her underwear off.

She certainly didn't need to tell Vi twice. That doesn't mean Vi won't mess with her a little bit. The Zaunite began slowly trailing the tips of her fingers down Caitlyn's stomach while still giving her chest plenty of attention. Eventually, her fingers made it to Caitlyn's cunt and holy fuck was it wet.

Both women audibly gasped when Vi made contact with Cait's slit. Vi decided she was going to be a little playful and began slowly stroking two fingers up and down the Piltover woman's sex without actually entering inside her. Caitlyn's grip on her head tightened and caused a delightful sting.

Caitlyn began bucking her hips in hopes of getting Vi's fingers inside, but at just the right time the Zaunite would manage to pull back. When Vi looked up, she could see the blissed out face on her lover and that sent a wave of heat straight to her core.

She's honestly having the time of her life teasing Caitlyn. The whimpers of being so close yet not quite getting what she wanted was driving Vi absolutely mad. Then, Caitlyn cupped Vi's face and pulled her away from the breast she was paying special attention to. When Vi looked at Caitlyn, she was an expression the Zaunite had never seen before. It was a calculating look that meant business.

"I'm warning you right now, you can tease me as long as you like, but I promise you I will return the favor tenfold when I get my hands on you. Now are you going to be a good girl and fuck me, or are you going to continue acting like you have control?" Caitlyn firmly asked her.

If Vi wasn't sure if she had a praise kink before, she knows she does now. The prospect of being a good girl was the push Vi needed to slowly slip one finger inside of Caitlyn's beautiful cunt. Plus, she's hot when she's bossy. Caitlyn moaned lowly and grabbed onto Vi's back.

"Another one," the Piltover woman managed to command.

Very eager to see her girlfriend come, Vi did as instructed. The second finger slipped inside with absolutely zero resistance. There Vi sat, absolutely mesmerized at the sight of Caitlyn taking in two of Vi's fingers. She's starting to think she might actually come from this sight alone.

"You're so beautiful clenching on my fingers like this Cait, holy fuck," Vi whispered.

The other woman almost immediately tightened around Vi. Looks like she's not the only one that enjoys a bit of complimenting during sex.

Vi bit her lip as she slowly began to pick up the pace of pushing her fingers inside of Caitlyn's wet pussy. She can feel her girlfriend's walls tighten around her, signaling she's coming to her high soon. Without letting up the pace, Vi leaned down and swallowed Caitlyn's moans with a kiss. Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Vi's neck and tugged her in as close as possible.

"Fuck, keep going, I'm so close," Caitlyn moaned.

Given how fucking tight she is, Vi certainly believes that statement. Vi's fingers began pumping impossibly faster as Caitlyn desperately rutted her hips upward. Caitlyn clutched onto Vi's shoulders as she finally hit her sweet release. With a loud moan, Caitlyn rode out her high on Vi's fingers.

This is probably the hottest thing the Zaunite has seen in her entire life. The woman she's in love with is desperately trying to regain her breath after Vi just gave her an orgasm. This is a memory she will be cherishing for years to come.

Vi slowly took her fingers out of Caitlyn and brought them to her lips. While making direct eye contact with her, Vi tastes Caitlyn's arousal still coating her fingers.

"Tastes sweet. You know, like a cupcake," Vi grinned.

"You are so annoying," the taller woman huffed with no real bite in her voice.

Caitlyn let out a small giggle before yanking Vi down into another searing kiss. It ended way too shortly when Caitlyn pulled away. Then, the Piltover woman looked at Vi and frowned.

"You're wearing way too many clothes. We're going to need to change that," Caitlyn told her.

At once, Caitlyn got to work on undoing her chest bindings. Vi was so focused on kicking off her pants that she didn't notice the white piece of paper slip from her pocket. Apparently, Caitlyn did.

"What's this note for? And why does it say 'when you're ready to sail away with me'?" Caitlyn frowned.

Vi took a moment to process the question because of how elated she was over the fact that she made Caitlyn come. The Zaunite glanced down at the paper before shrugging.

"Oh, Sarah wrote me that. She wanted me to leave with her when she went back to sea. For many obvious reasons I declined, but she still wrote down her next port so that I could write," Vi mumbled.

She didn't really care about the note. What she cared about was having Caitlyn on top of her. As it would turn out, Caitlyn cared quite a bit about said note. The Piltover woman crumpled the note and tossed it dismissively behind her.

"I'm going to make you come so hard you won't even remember your own name, much less her's. You're not going to want to sail away from me when I'm done with you," Caitlyn whispered darkly in Vi's ear.

That's way more attractive than it should have been. Now that Vi's pants and underwear are off, Caitlyn is starting to nip at the shorter woman's chest. Vi whimpered as her girlfriend's soft lips made contact with the valley between her breasts. She's so embarrassingly wet right now, she needs to come soon.

"Cupcake, please, I need you," Vi begged.

"Oh? Need me for what?" Caitlyn asked innocently as she continued to press kisses down to Vi's stomach.

The taunt made Vi want to scream in frustration. It's pretty damn obvious what Vi needs right about now.

"Touch me," Vi insisted.

"My poor darling, I am touching you. If you want something specific from me, you have to be a good girl and ask," Caitlyn smirked as her hands began massaging Vi's thighs.

Oh she's evil. It's like Caitlyn thinks Vi is just some whore that's going to be begging her to come!

Well, she would be correct, but Vi is not happy about it!

"Just eat me out already before I go insane!" the Zaunite whined.

Caitlyn's eyes flashed and before Vi could blink, her girlfriend was pressing open mouthed kisses on her cunt. Vi’s breath hitched in her throat as she slammed her hand over her mouth to stop her moans.

"If I don't get to hear you, you don't get to come. Now let me hear those pretty moans Vi, I won't tell you again," Caitlyn warned.

The fact that she's so vocal is absolutely humiliating to Vi, but the idea of not being able to come is so much worse. Therefore, Vi let her hand flop at her side so now the sounds she makes is all for Caitlyn's ears.

Caitlyn smiled and dragged her tongue up Vi's slit. The Zaunite physically did a full body shiver at the sensation. The pleasure crawled all the way up her spine in a way that was too intoxicating for words.

"Who's making you feel this good, hmm? Go on, say it," Caitlyn quietly hissed.

Vi really doesn't want to speak, her voice is just going to sound all shaky and awkward. But something tells her that Caitlyn is going to get it out of Vi, one way or another. Even if Vi's embarrassed, it's still really hot.

"Fuck, Cupcake, it's you. You make feel so fucking go- oh fuck," Vi gasped as Caitlyn's tongue went inside of her.

Feeling the Piltover woman's tongue inside of her is almost making her scream. She was already so wet and this is making it so worse. It's only a matter of time before Vi completely unravels.

Vi tried moving her hips to speed things along, but Caitlyn pinned them to the couch with her hands. All the Zaunite could do is lay there and take the pleasurable attack on her cunt.

"Tell me you're mine, darling. Tell me you're mine because I have always been yours," Caitlyn moaned into Vi's pussy.

"Fuck, Cupcake, I'm yours. Only yours, oh my god," Vi cried out.

Upon hearing those words, Caitlyn's tongue began vigorously circling Vi's clit. The taller woman began repeatedly pressing against her most sensitive spot and before she could even comprehend it, Vi was coming all over Caitlyn's face.

"Fuck," they both moaned at the same time.

They made eye contact for a moment before giggling like a couple of idiots. Caitlyn slowly moved up Vi's body and gave her kiss while her arousal was still coated over the Piltover woman's lips. Literally everything Caitlyn does is so hot.

Once they broke apart Caitlyn laid next to Vi and began gently messing with her hair. Vi yawned and leaned her head on Vi's shoulder.

"You feeling good? Do you need anything, my darling?" Caitlyn softly asked her.

Vi's tummy did a small backflip at the possessive 'my' in front of darling. The things this woman does to her is actually insane.

"I feel fucking amazing actually. All I need is you, Cupcake," Vi smiled.

"I have to say, I feel pretty fucking amazing myself," Caitlyn chuckled.

"Well then I did my job," Vi giggled.

"I love you, you know. I'm not expecting you to say it back, but I really think you need to," Caitlyn began, only to get cut off with Vi's lips on hers.

"I love you too. Good luck getting rid of me now, sucker," Vi smirked. Caitlyn simply laughed and pulled her in even closer.

"Sounds perfect to me, Vi. That sounds absolutely perfect."

**********************

That very morning, Caitlyn and Vi walked into town hand in hand. Vi was originally concerned that it would hurt her reputation to be with her in such an obviously romantic setting, but Caitlyn was having none of it. As they were strolling down the street, they met up with a couple enforcers that Vi remembers meeting but unfortunately forgot the name of. Oh shit, Maddie’s there too. Hopefully it’s not awkward or anything.

"Oh, congrats on getting back together you two!" the blonde woman smiled at seeing their joined hands.

“Aw, I’m for you guys! You make a sweet couple,” Maddie agreed.

Vi felt herself physically relax. Maddie’s not heartbreakingly upset, which is truly all Vi wanted. Even though Caitlyn may have never reciprocated Maddie’s feelings, she is clearly also relieved that she’s alright with this outcome.

"About time, Vi. That one was a wreck without you," the black haired man teased while pointing to Caitlyn. Vi laughed a bit while Caitlyn blushed.

"Thanks, but we never like, broke up or anything. This is the first time we've started dating," Vi told them.

"Wait seriously?" the blonde asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, it's true. Our relationship is quite new," Caitlyn told them.

"Wow. You guys were not good at hiding it," the blonde deadpanned.

Caitlyn and Vi looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. They were totally right, after all. The two women were awful at hiding their feelings for each other.

Vi smiled easily as the other three enforcers began rambling on about the plans they had coming up this week. Caitlyn gently squeezed Vi's hand which the Zaunite quickly returned. As long as they had each other, they would be alright.

"Hey Babe, how did- ah boo! You guys are totally dating now, aren't you?" the voice behind them identifiable as Sarah groans. Vi bit back a laugh as Caitlyn frowned at Sarah's presence.

"Yes, we are now very happily dating, Sarah," Vi grinned.

"I suppose I'm happy for you. But hey, if you're ever dating unhappily, you know I'm always available," Sarah smirked.

"Vi, grab my gun," Caitlyn deadpanned.

"Huh? Why?" Vi asked.

"Because I might actually shoot her," Caitlyn scowled.

"Yeah, alright, no gun for you," Vi mumbled as she hastily grabbed it from Caitlyn's holster.

And here Vi thought those two might get along now that the air has been cleared. Clearly, that will not be the case. Vi simply kissed Caitlyn's cheek and watched as a small smile graced the other woman's face.

At least now Vi has a little more incentive to survive Ambessa's wrath. A future with Caitlyn is, without a doubt, something worth fighting for.

[letters-from-himring-hill]

Since I and the tag list had fun with the last set of Terrafell headcanons, here are some more, this time about cooking, because tonight I'm making lembas bread. (Gavrel's entry is canon but the rest are my guesswork.)

Gavrel: Canonically a fantastic cook. A bit eccentric in his tastes, but perfectly capable of making weird-sounding ingredients turn into a mouthwateringly delicious dish. Just make sure you tell him normal people are eating the meal too, or he might put cyanide in the beverages to carbonate them.

Atticus: Could be a very good cook if he wanted to, but he's not all that interested in it, so he wouldn't really pay attention to what he was doing. He might try to read spellbooks while cooking, which means there's always a slight risk that the food he makes will either be enchanted, or enchant you, in an unspecified way.

Furniture Man: He has servants for that, and his tastes are rather...odd...anyway. He would try if he needed to, but I don't think he'd be very good at it.

The Doc: He feels like a bachelor professor to me. Capable of basic meals but not all that interested in cooking.

Nik: Can grill with the best of them, makes a fantastic barbeque, master of the smoker, but does not do well in an indoor kitchen. Best at making dishes which involve loads of meat.

The Mysterious A.T.: Going completely off of vibes here, I'm going to say that he's an unexpectedly skilled cook, but specifically the special occasion variety of cook. He might flounder slightly over a basic meal but he can make a beef Wellington on autopilot.

@scleroticstatue, @exploding-the-wine-cellar, @kanerallels, @awwyeah-rambles, and @sweetcardamom what do y'all think?

[twrk11]

hello ,, hehe ,, i just came across ur acc and i love how you write for towa ,, is it okay if i ask for nsfw headcanons for taiga fico leo sho ren haku and jin (am more hoping for taiga leo haku and ren if you only write a specific amount of chars) , where mc is like real submissive for them in front of others, but in closed doors mc is dom hevfhbenfbeneb (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡ feel free to ignore if it makes u uncomfy 🩷

NSFW Tokyo Debunker Headcanons & short fic | 18+

Characters : Taiga, Leo, Ren, Haku

Hello anon!! Glad you’re here ☺️!! Thanks so much for liking the Towa fic, I feel honored! I really did like this idea, I hope I fulfilled it the way you wanted!! This is personally my first time ever doing an ask so thank you for this!

I originally was going to do all the ones you mentioned but.. I ended up having too much fun. Took me a while to write all that I wanted! Perhaps i’ll revisit and do the other three?

(Apologies if some are longer than others! ~ 😢)

Content : All is of course consensual! No mention of readers gender, Smut, mentions of oral, riding, pegging, sex, begging, mention of a collar, brat, sub!characters, dom!reader, punishment, humiliation, bondage

words: 1415

Read under cut!

Taiga

-Definitely confused him the first time !

-You were so cute sitting on his lap at the poker table.. How did he end up fucked out of his mind?

-You were such a good submissive kitty.. He couldn’t help but think about pounding you until you were sobbing on how good it felt.

-He wants you to do it more though. He loves seeing you bounce on his cock. You’re so.. Eager,

-Don’t tease him, he will be angry and give you the nastiest glare he can muster (If he’s not fucked out)

-Grunts for sure, might be able to squeeze a whimper out every so often.

-If you don’t restrain him, he will claw and scratch at you.

-.. put a collar on him. Might piss him off but he’d also make such a cute kitty~!

-don’t get too close to his mouth, he might bite. He’s feisty.

“Gghh-“ He’d grunt, his brows furrowed. He’d jerk his hands, god those handcuffs pissed him off to no end. He’d glare at you, purposefully trying to rut his hips up into you harshly. He wanted to be in control! God- but when you slapped him when he did so.. he couldn’t lie, his cock twitched and throbbed. He wouldn’t warn you if he was about to cum, I’m .. quite frankly not so sure he could. But he certainly has tell tale signs!

“Mh~” A small whimper escaped his throat. Oh he might burst-!

“Go on.. you can cum~” you’d coo, gently running your hands on his chest.

He’d erupt immediately, his eyes shut as he couldn’t help the whines. His hands would shake, then he’d open his eyes, too dazed to even think.

Leo

-You were submissive in public—! It was perfect for his social media!!

-When you showed up in his videos and acted the way you did- you were so cute..

-It had helped fuel any of his fans desires at the thought of Leo being dominant. Really brought in the views!

-… how did he end up eating you out/sucking your dick with you calling him a good boy?

-either way.. he’s a brat. So fucking annoying

-He’d threaten to blackmail you.

-watch out, he miiiight try to spit on you.

-Just show him his place, might take a bit but he will eventually be broken down and a sobby mess for you~!

-He’d be so good at begging, and he loves to, even if he doesn’t wanna admit it

-He loves being restrained, please do so.. He wants to feel helpless.

-He’s loud.. like.. really.. really loud.. Moaning, whining, whimpering.

-He’d try to be quiet but eventually he can’t contain it—! You might have to help shut him up if he’s too loud..? Or you could let him be.. it’d humiliate him with how loud he is.

-Oh.. he’d hate to admit he loves being humiliated.

-Ride him, peg him/fuck him, he honestly loves it all, anything to get him a mess.

“F-Fuck-! M-Mmh~” He sobbed, he tried to not jerk his hips. Aahh.. but he couldn’t help it-! It felt like he had no control- over the situation or his body. Who would’ve thought you’d make him the pillow princess?

“I-Im gonna cum~!” He cried, he came immediately as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

.. Did you allow him to cum..? I don’t recall you ever did..? Don’t forget to punish him— Otherwise he will think he can do whatever he wants!

Ren

-He honestly quite liked how submissive you were in public. It made you so easy to tease and .. he’s mean.

-He got a real kick out of making fun of you!

-You were so agreeable and did whatever he asked, download a game and enter the referral code? You did it in a heartbeat! You were so eager to please!!

-.. Now he has to beg.. Fuck- he didn’t want to do that. That’s.. humiliating.

-Expect back talk. He’s definitely a brat.

-.. He will end up begging. And eventually he will be no stranger to it. The words really just can’t seem to help themselves other than to tumble out of his mouth.

-Oh he’s a whiner. He whimpers sooooo good.

-Please don’t restrain him— He NEEDS to grab onto something to keep him grounded.

-Whether that’s you or the sheets doesn’t matter he needs something, anything.

-(though I do believe he wouldn’t like touching much during sex just based on how he acts- I do think he has certain times and parts of the body he’s happy to have contact with. Does that make sense?)

-He definitely is a crier, it feels just too good.. he can’t help it.

“Fuck no! I’m not begging for you-“ .. Or so, that’s what he claimed. Slap him around a bit, toy a bit with his nipples. Oh, of course his nipples are sensitive. He’d shiver- it felt so so good-

“Why’d you stop..?” His voice was out of breath. His cock was so tight against his pants, this is not fair- Why were you playing games right now?

“Beg. You want more?” You’d demand, but would be met with a scoff. Didn’t he already tell you he’s not doing that? Who even put you in char- his cheek stung. His nipples hardened, as he felt his cock dribble out precum. No way he just got turned on from you slapping him— right? .. Tease his nipples a bit more, punish him until he finally begs. He’ll eventually learn that begging can get him everywhere!

“P-please~ C-cum-“ He can barely speak, just hiccup and sob words out, with his hands moving between gripping the sheets and your waist. His tears slowly slide down his cheeks- he’s so needy.. and once given permission he really can’t hold back anymore.

“Mm-mh~! M-MC-!” He sobbed your name as he came- his voice cracking.

Haku

-Oh you were just adorable when you reacted to his flirting.

-He really loved to tease you! He couldn’t help but imagine how you’d be in bed.

-He was so forward, and you were shy, obviously flustered easily. How could you not be submissive?

-.. Well.

-He was sorely mistaken, hm?

-He couldn’t help but love the view of you riding/fucking/pegging him, but goodness, his neck throbbed with all the times you bit him—!!

-He moans for sure, he’s quite loud too. Grunts and whines every now and then.

-He’d still tease you, he can’t help but be oh so forward with you.

-If he’s fucked out, he can’t help but look at you with a dazed expression- mumbling out how much he wants more.

-He’d LOVE to run his hands all over your body, he wants to connect with you in whatever way he can.

-He really wishes he could ravage you- you’d be so so cute.. Ah but your expression now.. He can’t deny how it makes his dick throb and ooze out pre-cum.

-He’s well behaved! But he will for sure be a bit of a brat. He can’t let you have it too easy can he? Though.. he’d happily do whatever you want, he just wants to satisfy you!

-He’s a massive slut, please make him cum over and over again. He doesn’t care if he’s overstimulated, he needs more. He’s insatiable.

-Loves praise! He craves knowing if he’s a good boy.

-Can’t help but love degradation as well, makes him feel so dirty. He really just wants to be your bitch.

“O-oh fuck— MC-“ He moaned as his lids seemed to flutter shut. You rolled your hips, just the way he liked. He let his hands roam over your body, gently caressing it .

“Please go faster baby- Mmh~” He slightly whined. He wanted you to use him- if it made you happy please do so. He really truly just wanted to be your whore.

“Yeah? Like that? Such a slut, begging for more. Mm- You’re such a good boy for me.” You whispered in his ear as you sped up, causing him to shiver and his cock twitch. When your hand wrapped around his neck and gently applied pressure, mixed with the soreness of all the hickeys littering his skin, he couldn’t help cum.

“F-fuck~! MC-! D-don’t stop please—“ He cried out- he needed more. Just truly drain him dry, he’d cum for you as much as you like.

[pandapetals]

Couple Questions

You and Logan answer some cute couple questions!

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, your an english professor, logan is a history professor

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

a/n: not the usual update but I saw some couple questions on pinterest and thought you know what…im gonna do this because it’s cute. i may or may not also have headcanons for them lol.

What were your first impressions of each other?

You : grinning "I thought he was rude. He barely said hello when I first arrived at the mansion, just mumbled something and walked away like I wasn’t worth his time."

Logan : smirking "To be fair, I had a lot on my mind."

You : "But then I caught him staring at me in the library one day, and I thought, ‘Huh, maybe he’s not as grumpy as he looks.’ Turns out I was wrong—he’s grumpier.” teasingly nudges him

Logan : chuckling "You done? ‘Cause my first impression was that you talked too much."

You : mock gasp "Excuse me?!"

Logan : shrugging "But you had this fire about you. Didn’t take crap from anyone. Thought that was… different." pauses, his voice softening "And your laugh. First time I heard it, I couldn’t get it outta my head."

Describe the moment each of you knew you had feelings for each other.

You : thoughtful smile "I think it was when Jean told me Logan liked me. It just… clicked. All the banter, the little glances, the way he’d hover nearby even though he pretended not to care—it all made sense. Once I realized it, it was like… yeah, I like him too. It was terrifying and exciting at the same time."

Logan : scratching the back of his neck, pretending to look annoyed "She’s makin’ me sound soft already."

You : "You are soft."

Logan : ignoring her "For me, it was probably when I realized she wasn’t offended by my attitude. That’s when I knew she wasn’t just anyone. She was my someone."

Did either of you fight your feelings, or was it easy to accept?

You : snorting "Oh, we both fought it. He avoided me a lot of the time. I overthought everything —does he like me? What if I’m imagining it? What if I ruin our friendship?"

Logan : dryly "You do think too much. Me? I didn’t avoid you."

You : glaring playfully "You literally avoided the library for two weeks, and that’s your favorite place!"

Logan : grinning faintly "Alright, fine. Maybe I fought it a little. Was scared I’d mess things up. Didn’t think someone like you would want someone like me."

You : softly, brushing his hand "You’re an idiot for thinking that, but you’re my idiot."

When was the first time you said “I love you”? What prompted it?

You : "It was after a nightmare. Logan woke up in a cold sweat, muttering apologies for scaring me. But he hadn’t scared me—I just wanted to comfort him. And in the middle of me rambling about how it was okay, it just came out: ‘I love you.’"

Logan : quietly "Didn’t think I’d ever hear those words from someone. But when she said it, I couldn’t stop myself. Told her I loved her right back."

You : smiling softly "And then you called me a ‘damn fool’ for putting up with you."

Logan : shrugging "I stand by it."

Who is the big spoon, who is the little spoon?

You : "Oh, Logan’s the big spoon, obviously. But sometimes I’ll be the big spoon when he’s had a rough day. He pretends to hate it, but I know he secretly likes it."

Logan : grumbling "I don’t need a damn cocoon, sweetheart."

You : grinning "But you still let me."

What’s your favorite quality about each other?

You : "Logan’s loyalty. He’ll protect the people he loves with everything he has, even when he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved back."

Logan : looking at her, his voice softer "Her heart. She’s got this way of makin’ everyone feel like they matter. Like they’re worth somethin’. That’s rare."

You : teasingly "Stop, you’re gonna make me cry."

Logan : smirking "Good. Payback for all the times you make me feel stuff."

Who is the messiest?

You : raising her hand immediately "Me. Absolutely me."

Logan : snorting "Finally, somethin’ we agree on."

You : "Hey, at least I know where everything is in my mess. Your ‘organized’ piles confuse me."

Logan : "It ain’t hard, darlin’. One pile’s for weapons, the other’s for books. What’s so confusin’?"

Who sings in the shower?

You : grinning mischievously "Logan does. And he doesn’t even realize it half the time. It’s adorable."

Logan : deadpan "I don’t sing in the shower."

You : "Oh, so the other day when I walked by and heard you mumbling ‘Sweet Caroline’ under your breath, that wasn’t you?"

Logan : grumbling "I was hummin’ it. There’s a difference."

You : sarcastically "Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Who likes horror movies? Who likes romance movies?

You : grinning "Logan likes horror movies, obviously. He’ll sit there, all serious, like nothing phases him. But I swear I caught him flinch once during The Exorcist ."

Logan : gruffly "Did not."

You : "You did. Anyway, I like romance movies. Logan pretends to hate them, but he always ends up watching them with me."

Logan : smirking "That’s ‘cause I know you’ll cry, and I gotta be ready to hand you tissues."

You : rolling her eyes "And yet, who was tearing up during The Notebook last week? Hmm?"

Logan : groaning "Alright, fine. I might like some of ‘em. But don’t go tellin’ anyone."

You : "Oh, your secret’s safe with me. But I’ll totally remind you next time we watch Pride and Prejudice ."

Logan : grinning, pulling her closer "You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart."

What’s your favorite memory of us?

You:thoughtfully smiling “That’s hard to pick. But… I think it was when you planned that romantic getaway for my birthday—you bought me that dress. Or when you wrote that for me poem and gave it to me for Christmas.”

Logan:grinning faintly “You mean the one where you cried ‘cause I wrote you that little poem in the book?”

You:mock gasping “You wrote me a poem , Logan. Of course, I cried! I still have that dress, by the way.”

Logan:chuckling, his voice softer now “That was a good one. But for me? I think it’s our wedding. Just you, me, and those vows I wrote on a scrap of paper. You called me an idiot for cryin’ halfway through.”

You:sniffing dramatically “And I’ll call you an idiot for it again, but only because you cried first. You set me off.”

Logan:smirking “You weren’t even gonna cry ‘til I pulled out that damn lucky pen you gave me.”

You:“Well, yeah, it’s our lucky pen, Logan! What did you expect?”

Hugs or kisses?

You:grinning slyly “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Logan:raising an eyebrow “Really? I’d say hugs.”

You:blinking in mock surprise “Logan Howlett likes hugs? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

Logan:shrugging, smirking a little “What can I say? There’s somethin’ about you wrappin’ yourself around me that just feels right.”

You:melting a little before recovering quickly “Okay, you win that one. But kisses still come with extra perks.”

Logan:grinning wickedly “Oh, I know.”

Who finds it harder to admit they’re wrong?

You:“Oh, Logan. 100% Logan.”

Logan:gruffly “What? That’s not true.”

You:glaring playfully “Logan, you once argued with me for three hours about the best way to cook eggs—only to realize you were wrong and never admit it.”

Logan:grumbling “That’s ‘cause your way still doesn’t make sense.”

You:crossing her arms “Oh, it makes perfect sense, tough guy. You’re just stubborn.”

Logan:grinning faintly “Alright, fine. Maybe I don’t like bein’ wrong.”

You:“Maybe?!”

Who’s the boss in the marriage?

You:smirking, pointing to herself “Obviously me.”

Logan:laughing softly “Yeah, you think so, huh?”

You:“Logan, who does the meal planning? The laundry schedules? Who makes sure you actually remember birthdays and anniversaries?”

Logan:grinning “Alright, you. But who fixes stuff when it breaks? Who makes sure no one bothers you when you’re havin’ a bad day? Who makes the coffee in the mornin’ exactly how you like it?”

You:softening, smiling sweetly “Alright, fine. We’re both the boss in different ways. But let’s be honest—when it comes to arguments, you fold first.”

Logan:mock scowling “Only ‘cause you give me those damn eyes. Ain’t fair.”

Who has the best jokes?

You:grinning smugly “Me. Hands down.”

Logan:snorting “Yeah, okay. But only ‘cause your jokes are so bad, they’re funny.”

You:“Excuse me?!”

Logan:grinning “Sweetheart, half your jokes are puns. Don’t get me wrong, I love seein’ you crack yourself up, but best jokes? Nah.”

You:frowning in mock offense “Fine, then let’s hear one of your so-called ‘good’ jokes.”

Logan:deadpan “Why’d the history book break up with the science book? No chemistry.”

You:blinking, then laughing despite herself “Okay, that was actually pretty good. Damn it.”

Who is grumpier?

You:“Oh, Logan. No contest.”

Logan:shrugging, unbothered “Yeah, probably.”

You:giggling “You’re basically a walking thundercloud until you’ve had your coffee. And even then, you’ve got about an hour before you start growling at people.”

Logan:smirking “That’s true, but you’re no ray of sunshine when you’re hungry.”

Who gets angry when they’re hungry?

You:immediately “Okay, fine. That’s me. But in my defense, you always know when to feed me before I get too hangry.”

Logan:chuckling “Damn right I do. Learned that the hard way on one of our first dates.”

You:giggling “Oh, you mean the time you forgot to feed me after making me hike five miles, and I almost bit your head off?”

Logan:grinning “Yup. You didn’t even wait for the food to hit the table before tearin’ into me. Thought I was gonna lose a hand.”

You:grinning sheepishly “Hey, at least you didn’t run for the hills.”

Logan:softly, leaning closer “Nah, sweetheart. I’d take your hangry self over anyone else any day.”

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

can you make angst artkita hcs pls i NEED to see them suffer

angst artkita headcanons!

whoa! come down there anon…make angst artkita headcanons?

but of course…

tw for self harm and eating disorders

artyom definitely makes nikita cry on purpose. theres nothing more that he wants in the world then to see that boy cry and sob because of him.

artyom ignores nikita a lot. its rare that he answers his calls or messages and even when hes over hed probably ignore him. hed be sitting off to the side like a puppy waiting for a treat itll never get.

artyom has somehow gotten nikita to take nudes of himself for him. its more of just a tactic and thing to hold over him when he does something wrong - i also think artyom talks shit about nikita to his friends and shows off his nudes for shits and giggles.

if nikita ever found out he would have a panic attack and probably hurt himself really bad, but hed end up calling artyom over anyway, begging for his help because its too much for him to deal with on his own. hed forgive him immediately as soon as he gives him some half assed attention to his cuts.

artyom comments on nikitas weight and body all the time - poking his sides and talking about how he needs to lay off. it makes nikita feel terrible because he just wants artyom to think hes pretty (he never will either way) so he does just that, but it doesnt really work which further upsets him.

if artyom ever wanted to drug nikita he wouldnt even have to bother doing it himself. he just has to wait until nikita gets himself fucked up and then he can do whatever he wants to him.

artyom tries to make nikita throw up on purpose. he would probably make him lick and eat it up afterwards.

once nikita is feeling so god awful and completely beaten down then artyom will give him a little praise and comfort. hed tell him here and there that he was proud of him for doing something and that his body was looking a little better as well as other stuff - maybe even touching him a little too.

nikita definitely misses out on a lot of stuff just so he can hang around artyom. like if his mom ever planned anything for him he would just tell her off and go over to artyoms apartment instead.

nikita gets jealous really easily. any time artyom talks to a girl or something he gets upset and it becomes a whole big thing between the two of them which just leads to a lot of arguing and fighting.

nikita is typically just trailing behind artyom and following him around wherever he goes like a lost dog.

lots of physical fighting. artyom will take any opportunity he can to beat the absolute shit out of him - if he has a lot of pent up anger and stress then hes quick to let it out on nikita. nikita just takes it laying down, but will be begging and crying for him to stop - he stills lets it happen though because he wants to help artyom feel better.

nikitas always going home with new bruises and cuts. when his mom is there she’ll ask him about it but he’ll immediately cut her off and tell her its none of her business.

artyom doesnt like to smoke, but he will do it just so that he can put the cigarettes out on nikita when he feels like it.

artyom definitely encourages nikitas self harm behaviors - hed even help him do it. he would show him better ways to cut himself and what not just so that more blood can be drawn and he’ll be ruined further.

sex between them is just as terrible as youd imagine. nikita would be non stop begging and sobbing - wanting artyom to be gentle and not so mean with what hes doing, but artyom is just focused on getting done and using nikita as a human fleshlight basically. he never cares for anything thats sweet or romantic while the other just wants everything to take time and be as intimate as possible.

artyom specifically likes to cum on nikitas face and nikita has an oral fixation so it all works out super well. he makes him eat all the cum afterwards too while he laughs at him for how dumb he looks.

whenever theyre out killing people artyom will make nikita do a lot of the work and will call him a pussy if he doesnt want to do it. then he’ll proceed to laugh at him because of how hesitant and careful hes being.

[generational-atrophy]

OMG! I WAS LOOKING THROUGH UR BLOG CUZ MY HETALIA PHASE IS BACK AND WAS LIKE "I LOVE THIS WRITER SM WHERE ARE THEY" AND BOOM!

So request, if that's okay, the main 8 with a reader who cries during confrontations and or arguments. An imagine where ofc the main 8 says something hurtful and reader just covers their ears because 1.) Ears do be sensitive and 2.) It causes them to shut down completely

Can we know how they'd handle it plus how it'd go? Ty 💜

hetalia main 8 saying something they regret in an argument

2.8k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: they say hurtful things, and are kind of assholes in general lol

America - Alfred F. Jones

“I’m better than this. Why’d I keep someone as seriously uncool as you around?!”

Even as you immediately begin turning away from him, curling into yourself for comfort, Alfred would be less than sympathetic. If you’d ever doubted how self-centred he could be, this was more than enough evidence to prove it.

“What? What- just- don’t do that! You’re the one who started this!”

It’s unlikely he’d let up even after the tears start. He’s really that callous when he feels hurt. After a few tense minutes of silence broken only by your quiet whimpering, he’d start tearing up too. Not from guilt, seeing how much he hurt you. But instead from how he’s only now realizing he has to put his own feelings aside to take care of yours.

He’d approach you like a rabid animal, a lump stuck in his throat as he tries to say anything to get you talking again.

“Listen, it’s uh- not that serious. I’m sorry, ok? Let’s just… like- do something else?”

His comforting consists mostly of trying to get you out of your own head. Once it’s been long enough that you’re less scared, he’d take your hands away from your ears gently and kiss your cheek. If you’re sensitive to other things, he’d wrap his jacket around your shoulders and turn off the lights until you’re up and talking again.

“See? Not that hard, just like I said. Good job, babe…  let’s just keep going like this, yeah?”

Somewhere, past all of the self-absorption and pride, he does have a heart. And that heart will immediately take you out to get ice cream. It’d take him a while to admit fault (and I mean real responsibility, not just his usual “sorry not sorry, move on,” schtick,) but maybe once your tear stains have dried, he’d realize what an ass he’d been.

England - Arthur Kirkland

“G*d, you’re pissing me off already! Just- fuck- get out of here if you hate us so much!”

Like usual. He’s desperate to just leave as soon as there’s conflict. It may be annoying, but at least he’s only doing it because he knows how awful he is when frustrated. 

If you don’t take up his offer to abandon the conversation, he will. You’d have to be seriously struggling to keep him with you in that moment.

“Trust me, everything will be much, much worse if I stay…”

He’s always acting like that. It’s like his conscience disappears when he speaks, but only returns when he’s already said the hurtful thing. Never taking responsibility, always panicking and leaving just as your tears start to fall.

But, the more you tell him how much that hurts, the more he might be willing to stay.

It’ll take him a while to be able to choke out a cowardly “sorry,” but at least he’ll stop trying to push you away at every occasion.

“Wait- don’t cry so much love, I’m- I… I didn’t mean it. Ok? Is that better?”

It’s impossible for him to keep arguing once you’re truly upset. Instead, he’ll take you by the hand to the kitchen so he can start making tea for the two of you. In that silence, he encourages you to speak whatever awful thoughts you’re repeating to yourself. He’s just trying to get you in a comfortable environment again at that point.

Quiet affirmations are the only things he’ll bring, looking at you sympathetically and still holding your hand tight while you talk about whatever you want to. Whether that be something completely random, insults towards him, or actual constructive discussion is up to you.

At the end of the night, he’ll apologize. Not well, mind you, but enough to dissuade you from whatever hurt you earlier. All that matters to him is that you don’t go to bed upset.

“I’ll do better next time… or- I mean- I’ll do my best to… not be like that… again. Promise.”

France - Francois Bonnefoy

“But is it that impossible for you to put in some effort? It’s just… embarrassing to be with you right now!”

He’s always been a fighter for sport. When he argues with you, it’s not to prove a point. It’s probably not about anything he actually cares about either. He honestly just does it for fun. To him, arguing is how you really get to know someone.

So when you take his words to heart and, in the worst case, start crying, he just really doesn’t know what to do.

“Merde, darling, you know I wasn’t being serious! Come on now, don’t take it so personally…”

He may grumble about how he didn’t want you to get so upset, but at least he’ll still calm down and quit pushing you. Whatever tension there was before will dissipate as soon as he sighs, making his way over to you and wrapping you in his embrace. Unless that makes you even more uncomfortable, in which case he’ll just grab your favourite blanket and gently drape it over your shoulders.

“I am so sorry I made you so upset, I really didn’t mean it. You’re wonderful to me, always so stunning!”

For as long as you need him to, he’ll apologize over and over again, playing with your hair and wiping away your tears as delicately as he can manage. He may be just as upset as you are when he realizes what he did, but he’s shockingly good at compartmentalizing that when you need support.

But, if you focus too much on how he hurt you, he might start crying too. He can’t help it. Ignore him.

Either way, he’s there to hold you and validate you in whatever you might be feeling at that moment. Be as irrational as you need to be,  he understands the urge well. And either way, he’ll just nod along to anything you say and insist it’s everyone else's fault. Including his, unlike basically every other man.

“How can you expect to survive when you hold all of this in? Please, always come to me even with small things, we share everything as lovers, yes? I cannot bear to see you as upset as this…”

China - Yao Wang

“Can’t you act your age? How do you expect anyone to put up with you like this?!”

As soon he says it, he knows that was an awful thing to say. He doesn’t need you to tell him, he can tell just by your expression that it was too far. You didn’t deserve that, he told himself.

But that doesn’t mean his ego is gonna let him give in so easily. Even if he was an ass, he still can’t let himself give up “authority” in a fight.

“Agh- that’s not… its not what I mean to say, alright?! So just… pretend I did not….”

If you quit fighting, instead becoming more upset, he’ll really struggle to calm down instead. Like, yes, he knows he should be trying to make you feel better, but that’s- he just doesn’t want to! He entered this fight with a purpose, and just because you’re crying doesn’t make that purpose any less important!

“Why won’t you argue back?! Aiyah, I knew you were childish but-”

Then he cuts himself off. Does he want to be the bigger person and apologize? No. But will he do it if you stop crying? Yes.

He’ll rest a hand on your arm and suggest in the gentlest voice possible that the two of you should go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help both of you clear your heads. He doesn’t know what must’ve happened to him to make him say all of those things either.

“I don’t think those thoughts, tiánxīn. I’m sorry I said it, I was upset but… I still should have known better.”

For as quickly as he’s willing to take responsibility, he’s not as much good at the “getting you out of breakdown” stage. Hopefully, you’ve already communicated with him about that so he knows to stop being so loud and trying to touch you. He’ll do whatever you request of him, but what’s best for you in that moment is probably not his first instinct.

“I’m sorry I was being such a huge ass. I love you, I promise.”

Russia - Ivan Braginsky

“You think you are special? I can beat sense into you just like I can them!”

Good luck getting him to understand that you can’t just threaten people within the next few hours. It will not work. When he’s angry, he really doesn’t care about feelings. Just about getting you to cooperate with whatever he says.

He may usually think of both of you as equals, but when you start seriously challenging his authority while he’s in a bad mood, it’s impossible for him to not be cruel. It’s always just better to leave than let him spiral and hurt both of you in the process

Although, he (obviously) would never actually put his hands on you. He just acts like a big baby and’ll stomp his feet and tell you whatever will get the most reaction out of you.

“Любимый, won’t you come out? I’m very sorry, I promise… can’t we just talk?”

But if you do remove yourself from the situation, he would never chase after you and force you to keep being in that awful environment. He knows better than that at least.

The moment you turn away and refuse to engage with his childishness, he’s already planning how to get you to forgive him. For as callous as it seems, your disapproval hurts him more than anything else. He would come to you on his knees, snivelling and pleading,  if that was what he had to do just for you to look at him again

The moment you let him in though, he just rushes over and captures you in his arms. He would dry your tears as gently as he could, treating you like you were made of glass.

“Куколка, куколка, you know I never mean any of that, right? I’m sorry, sorry, please- please, forgive me? If I kiss it better, will you forgive me, любимый?”

He’s so pathetic. Ask anything of him in this state and he’ll do it without hesitation. Unless it’s staying away physically. He’ll be quiet and let you ignore him but don’t try to push him away or he’ll get whiney. If you stress that it isn’t personal enough, maybe he’ll let it go though.

North Italy - Feliciano Vargas

“Why aren’t I good enough? You always abandon me, like-  like I’m nothing! Why do you hate me!?”

The moment either of you pick a fight, he’s already sobbing. Sure, he can argue with his brother for hours, but you matter to him in a much more vulnerable way. If you’re at all upset with him, he instantly feels like you don’t like him any more.

But when he feels attacked, he attacks just as much. In his subconscious, it’s always easier to push you away than have you abandon him yourself. That doesn’t result in very productive conversations, though.

“You’re just pretending you love me! You’re a liar, I- I know it!”

When you start crying along with him from all the awful things he’s said, two things can happen.

One, he cries harder, interpreting your hurt feelings as being an admittance to what he accused you of. Why would you be crying if it wasn’t from guilt, and why’d he say that when he so dreaded it being true?!

Or two, you’ll tell him about how truly terrible it feels to have him think those things about you, and he’ll snap out of it. His overwhelming emotions make him incredibly selfish at the moment, so he truly hadn’t considered how you felt from all of that.

Then he immediately lowers his voice, giving you plenty of space until you feel up to talking again. 

“Oh… I’m sorry! I didn’t- you wouldn’t do that! I know that, you know that, so just- I’m sorry! Please, forgive me, amore mio dolce!”

He pulls you into a hug immediately, keeping the two of you as close as physically possible as he whispers promise after promise of his love. Until your tears dry, he won’t stop strangling you with unabashed affection, doing anything he can just to get you smiling again.

The feeling of guilt is not something he’s used to. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’ll start crying again too.

“If I ever make you feel bad again, please shut me up, please! I can’t take the thought of you so hurt by my words!”

Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt

“My word should be more than enough for you to shut up already!”

It’s exceedingly rare that he ever loses his temper around you like that. Normally, you’re the one thing that can always calm him down. Just looking at your face makes his chest fill with butterflies, drowning out whatever dark thoughts he’s having.

So, needless to say, he immediately regrets snapping at you. Immediately.

“Wait, no- no, I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean to. It’s not true, just- just stupid, I’m sorry, liebling…”

Whatever you two were arguing about is instantly forgotten as he rushes over to you and takes your face in his hands. It just breaks his heart to see you hurt, much more at his own actions. You don’t have to worry about him taking responsibility, he would never try to dodge the guilt of making you cry.

It’s not the first time he’s lost control, and he knows it’s his fault. But maybe if he takes you in his arms gently enough, rocking you back and forth as you cry into his shoulder, it’ll make it a little easier for you.

But if you just need a silent moment to yourself, that’s perfectly fine too. He’s autistic, so he certainly understands the feeling and will happily provide you with whatever comforting items you request.

“I’m sorry… you didn’t deserve what I said. I love you, please tell me you know that…”

Even if you pretend you weren’t that upset by it, Ludwig wouldn’t let it go like that. If he gets to his breaking point like that, whatever fight you were having is put aside for the night. Now all that matters to him is that the two of you make up and get back into how things were before as soon as possible.

Expect him to be beating himself up for a while though. He just wants you to know how sorry he is, how much he regrets snapping at you, even if it does seem a bit excessive. But he’s just had too many people he cared about leave to not make a whole thing out of it.

Japan - Kiku Honda

“Don’t you have any sense of personal space? You are like- choking me with all of… you! I can’t stand it!”

He’s a logical man. That’s one thing he always tells himself. Never, not even when he’s emotional, does he say things he doesn’t mean. Was the way he said it less than perfect? Yes, of course, he can’t believe he had just acted so impolitely, especially to someone who he cares so much for. But he still… meant what he said.

But, for the first time, as he watches your face break slowly, he’s not so sure of himself. Whether he meant it or not seems suddenly so inconsequential compared to the thought of hurting you. He… upset you? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Ah- why are you crying? What is wrong? You… you- it will be… alright, you know? You are ok!”

Wait- no, don’t cry more from that! He has absolutely no idea how to comfort you, but if he really has to, he’ll do his best. Although it’s a little difficult for him to resist drawing your hands away from your ears, he’ll do his best to just let you have your process (no matter what that means for you.)

Before you can even hear him coming closer, you’re suddenly drawn into an intimate hug. His hand drawing your head underneath his and kissing the crown of your head so lovingly, it's almost like another person possessed him as he turns so soft just at the sight of your tears

Would his pride usually reject this? Yes, but, it’s certainly not the first time he’s had to put that aside for you.

He’ll sputter generic apologies, purposefully hiding his grimace as he forces himself to forget about whatever you two were arguing about before. Well, at least for now. Most likely he’ll bring it up not long after, but in a much more… non-confrontational way.

“Let us go do something else instead, hm? You’ll only get more upset like this, and I want that as little as you want it.”

On one hand, he’s a little annoyed he had to put aside his own gripes to calm you down. But on the other hand, he hates conflict. Anything that gets you guys back to normal is worth it, especially if otherwise you’ll be crying in his arms. That’s his absolute nightmare.

[orangez3st]

What actually happened to Rex's batchmates?

Here's my take on this, because atm I'm writing a fanfic about Cadet!Rex as well so I'm appealing for his fanon cadet fate.

I respect both "Rex's batchmates are all decommissioned because the whole batch is defective but Cody and the others saved him so now he's got PTSD from child ab**e" and "Rex got bullied because of his mutated blond hair" fanons (uh hey where did this begin? Had those been widely accepted headcanon that it became fanon eventually? I'm revisiting this fandom and am just stepping my foot into the fanon so maybe safe to say I'm kinda-but-not-really new) but... Hear me out.

(Future me, approx 2 hours after starting this post: okay this post turns out to be so long you might wanna sit down)

Disclaimer again; I don't hate those fanons but it's kinda bothersome to me (so cruel omg idek if he'd been really strong for, what, just 10 years haunted by child ab**e trauma, based on majority fic depiction? and said trauma lasted into the clone wars even? uh, really? more in 10) that I've pieced the puzzle myself on how one may approach this matter from another angle.

Facts i (we) know about clones

As far as we know, they have batchmates and squadmates.

Not only are they genetically engineered with accelerated physical stamina, they are also capable of withholding more stress than the average natborn. This is due to the fact that war soldiers generally suffer PTSD and the Kaminoans wanted to create Tupperware clone army. Thus, to a certain extent, genetically, clones prove to be more emotionally stable – mind you, that doesn't mean they're not immune to PTSD and other related traumas. There were clones who defected from the army just because they couldn't handle it anymore. As cruel as this might sound, yeah; there's something wrong with their programming.

There are 3 known mass-produced clone types: CT (Clone Trooper), CC (Clone Commando), and RC (Republic Commando). Each type is made? cloned? bred? separately. Obviously.

Clones are engineered to be obedient and submissive to order and structure. CT has the most extreme levels of this alteration, meanwhile CC has less, due to their supposed strategic position in command they have to adjust to every possible scenario thrown at them, eventually concocting tactically effective battle plans.

Mutations and defective traits are different. Mutations are uniquely positive and genetically induced or by experiment, while defective traits pop up due to poor maintenance or accidents. Kaminoan scientists are willing enough to tolerate mutations as long as it causes no further problems (like Blue Eyes), while they deem the ones with defective traits totally unfit for combat (like 99).

So, to stress and/or narrow them down:

Clones, regardless of type, are capable of handling more stress and adapting to situations quickly.

#GodlikeKaminoanEngineering (or so they say): Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't suffer trauma and/or related disorders. (Idk if this hypothetically would apply irl. If there's any legit research about this particularly, point me to the journal article lol I'd love to check it out tho I'm not a huge bio fan. Intriguing all the same.)

Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't defect. Clone Force 99 is a special case, though. (This point is completely unrelated to Rex but I think still worth mentioning)

CT's aren't that much capable of putting all hands on deck in strategy talks (that's what the CC's are for). All they know is to wait for orders from command and follow them thoroughly and make sure the job's done. However, they may or may not develop those traits themselves and finally take initiative basically becoming a kriffin badass CC intern, like Rex.

Genetic mutations, as we know or may assume, consist of change in physical appearance. This could mean lighter skin tone, not-Jango-Fett eye color, or not-so-Jango-Fett hair color. This is due to recessive genes. Jango's sister Arla has natural blond hair, you guys.

Therefore, from my perspective, Rex is in possession of genetic mutations and definitely not defective traits.

Combined with his standard CT emotional intelligence, excellent combat skill, his (pre-Skywalker) undying love for order and structure, and if not little acts of valor that undeniably has to show during his cadet years (I mean it would carry on into his ARC training and first months of the Clone Wars that he's given jaig eyes), I see no reason why he would be bullied and shunned by the rest of his batch.

If any, they regard him with so much respect because he shines – gloriously – throughout his training and essentially be the local pride. He's their brother, after all! Their vod! That's how he would've caught Cody and the other's attention too.

☝🏼🤓 I do accept the fanon that he's a batch behind them. I can't think of a reason. Might as well be freeform. And it's cute.

So.

That's the baseline, for clones.

Now we move on to the man himself.

(on gif above) That is so Cody-coded, Rex.

(1) Decommissioned batchmates

Tbh not sure what being decommissioned means, but given the generally grim and threatening implication that it strikes enough terror and neck-breaking amount of trauma to Rex of this fanon, it's gotta mean being terminated(?). Correct me if I'm wrong, but for now I'm rolling with that.

Rex exhibits excellent capabilities on field during his training that it easily captures his trainer's attention. A transfer to the CC command training sounds possible, I think, since y'know, Ponds is a CT as well and I'd like to think he's above Rex that the rank Commander is permissible for him (yes yes Rex is given the Commander promotion but he turned it down because he favors fighting up in the front with his men I am a firm believer of this as well). So he just gets separated from his batchmates and situated himself in the new brotherhood.

Also here's my baseless debunking because I just don't know any of those biology-related stuff.

I just don't think every single of his batchmates are so defective that the Kaminoans pulled the genoc**e card. It's just... Not possible. Math and probability, anyone? Hello?

Assuming the only reason for being decommissioned is for possessing defective traits so bad that it's worse than 99, the Kaminoans have no excuse to pull the genoc**e card just because a clone gets blond hair instead of Jango's black hair. As much as I support them being the most ultimate of assholes, I don't think they'd waste resources just like that.

So, in conclusion of this one; I think not. Rex's batchmates are very much alive and well and kicking droid ass during campaigns :)

(2) Traumatized Rex

Fanon: Rex with child ab**e trauma and, in conjunction, PTSD because he witnessed his batchmates get decommissioned.

I shall assume he carries this trauma even to the Clone Wars period.

Oh hang on, okay, he's defective because he's traumatized? Or is it the other way around; he gets traumatized that it somehow affects his already-defected emotional intelligence? What about his coping mechanism, is it defected as well? If the decommissioning of his brothers affects him so much he couldn't cope and carries with him the trauma, I don't think he'd be fit to go further since the start, or even earn those jaig eyes.

One thing about Rex is that he's brave. Since we're working with existing materials to create this headcanon, and that the jaig eyes itself is important, the jaig eyes still gotta be there. He earns it because he commits acts of valor in the battlefield – because he is a man of honor. Rex is very much aware of his emotional state, aware of the proper time and place; when to break down and when to put on a strong façade, because he's that selfless. He puts his men first. He cares about his men. He regards every single troop as his brother. First in, last out. An inspirational figure with strong will, always trying his best being the prime example and morale to his men.

Aside from the genetic stress inhibitor traits, Rex is a strong man, physically and mentally. In line with my previous point about how implausible and improbable it is that every single of his batchmates gets decommissioned, with this fanon scenario, I don't think Rex would be some guy who easily succumbs to trauma. He'd push on through and survive, and lo and behold. Canon-wise, he does. Still does.

(3) Why is he bullied 😭

My poor little meow meow of a heart can't take it. I don't know what this version of Rex is supposed to be bullied for? But if it's because of his blond hair IT'S NOT DEFECTIVE TRAIT it's genetic mutation. Even the majority of the clones sport black hair and brown eyes Jango style and only some of them sport brown hair or lighter, and even fewer of blond hair. And the Kaminoans allow it, as seen in 302.

Look at him he's precious. Some may think he's overrated, but he's just being him. No wonder he's majority's favorite. So with all that said, I rest my case.

Sorry that took so long and much of your time, but for my part, I'm glad I got those out of me. I might write my Rex and the other's headcanon in the future. Mentioned I'm writing a Cadet!Rex fic, so there's the link, if you're interested.

And don't get me started with the natural vs dyed blond thing. I'm a firm believer that Rex is a natural blond, and I've written the reason somewhere above.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. You may use this headcanon in your adaptations if you'd like. Cheers!

[sweet-little-tank-top-number]

I like this headcanon that he’d already accepted the Washington position before he and Sam worked things out… but I also think (and I say this with all the love in my heart) he’s a valiant, self-sacrificing idiot.

I don’t think he feels that he can put the work down and walk away while people he loves are still on the front line. If his wife (Sam, obv), his brother (Teal’c), and the best damn friend he’s ever had (Daniel) are still involved (not to mention all of the other good people on the ground at the SGC), then he sees retiring as a dereliction of duty. However, he’s cursed by being too important now (by being a general) and he’s getting older (although I have some headcanons about that too for another time and post), so he can’t reasonably be the vanguard on the front lines any more. His people need someone to watch their backs at the highest political levels. I think he sees his work in DC is distasteful and difficult, but necessary.

And Sam matches his freak levels 1000%. She too, is a valiant dork.

That’s part of why they love each other. If either of them completely washed their hands and walked away, they wouldn’t be the person the other loves.

That said… characters lie. She’s obviously obfuscating here with that last line:

Keller: Let’s see, older man, Washington… is he a Senator? Somebody famous? Would I know him?

Carter: Probably not.

Of course Keller would know him… and that’s the problem. Of course Keller knows who General O’Neill is. Of course she would know that he was on SG-1… with Colonel Carter… as his 2IC… for years. And if Keller doesn’t already know, then Sam namedropping him would lead to her easily working it all out. I think the specter of their prior working relationship still haunts them, even after they’re not technically forbidden by regulations any more.

Sam’s introduction, her defining character moment in the pilot, is her advocating for herself as a woman in a male-dominated world. She’s hyper aware of anything that could be seen as a weakness. There are almost certainly rumors that she and Jack were inappropriately involved during those first 8 years at the SGC and she can’t, she won’t, encourage it. Especially not in her own command.

So, Sam is toeing the line here: she’s trying to get closer and bond with one of her people but not undermine her own position as the leader.

Keller: Right, of course. Anyone back home?

Carter: Uhm…

Keller: Well, thought so. Spill it!

Carter: Well, it’s complicated.

Keller: Show me a relationship that isn’t.

But it’s not her relationship with Jack that’s complicated. No, in fact their relationship is beautifully, mercifully, perfectly simple. The problem and the complication is with everyone else on the outside looking in.

oh hey someone mentioned a deleted scene that proves sam and jack were together after season 8 can someone link it pls🥺🙏🏻

[cringelordlikesplaz]

Though Your Guardians May Try

Ok, so a couple days ago on Discord I shared one of my ideas for an AU- What if Sue Dearbon was actually Sue O’Brian? 

Basically and AU where Plas is Sue’s older brother. (which basically means that plas is ralph’s brother-in-law but that ain’t what this fic’s about)

                                            -> Here’s the AO3 link <-

There’s a sorta long fic underneath the cut, so be warned. 

He's ten when his father dies. He's nine when his mother dies.

He's five when his sister is born.

~~~

His mother is knives wrapped in sheets except for her stomach, which has continued to bulge outwards as the months go by. She smiles down at him as he places a hand on her stomach. His hand is lightly bumped and he gasps. 

"Baby's sayin' hello to you, sweetpea," She says, her hand coming to rest on Patrick's head. Her hand is boney and shakes as she moves, like it always does. 

"What's it doing in there?" Patrick asks, bringing his ear to his mother's stomach.

"Summersaults, probably." She answers, and she has to pause to cough into her hand. The fit lasts longer than it usually does, and his mother has to sit down on the couch after it, gasping. The shaking is worse when it's over, and her forehead gleams in the yellow light of the lamp.

"Do you want your smokes, ma?" Patrick asks.

"No, Pat, been readin' articles lately. Nicotine's bad for babies," She sucks in a breath and wipes her wrist over her face. "Lord knows I don't need to spend anymore on it," 

Patrick nods, "Okay," He climbs up next to her on the couch.

"Let's put on some TV  'fore your father gets home. We're going out for pizza when he gets off work."

  Patrick kicks his feet happily over the edge of the couch, even as rain pours down outside. His mother turns on their little box of a television as she flips through channels. She settles on some sort of drama, and even though Patrick doesn't like those all that much his mom always explains them in a way that makes him laugh. So it makes things okay.

~~~

Baby Susan O'Brian is born two months later, and a month early. Patrick remembers being woken up in the middle of the night by his father.

"Patrick! Get up, we're taking your mother to the hospital!" His father shouts. Patrick leaps out of bed, still clad in his jammies (an oversized shirt that no longer fit his father. It had some sort of band logo on it). His father had said that when the baby was born they'd have to go to the hospital. Patrick was a smart boy so he figured the baby must be coming out now!

He leaves his room just in time to see his father holding his mom bridal-style, both of them still in their nightclothes.

"Really, Seamus, I'm not dyin'," His mother says, even though she looks faint. 

"Not taking chances," His father grunts, "You know Pat came out fast."

Despite the apparent contractions she was having, his mother rolls her eyes, "I just wanted it over with. Poppin' out a babe is miserable enough as is, let alone when it lasts twelve hours." 

His father huffs and then calls over his shoulder at Patrick, "Put your sandals on, n' get in the back seat," 

"'Kay," He says as he slips on his sandals. They have velcro that sounds fun when he opens it up. They couldn't afford the light up ones at the store, but his dad promised that he'd remember in time for Christmas. 

He follows his parents out the door to their car. The sky is dark but slowly getting lighter. Patrick has never been up this late before.

His father puts his mom in the car before walking around to the wheel. Patrick has to jump to reach the handle, but he totally can because he's growing real fast.

The drive takes no time at all and somehow lasts hours at the same time. Patrick watches the world fly past outside, the sky a pale grey. 

"Can we get ice cream when we're done?" Patrick asks.

"Sure," His father says, and then yawns, "Might drop by the Bean to get some coffee first."

"Okay." Patrick says, scrunching his nose. Coffee tasted bad.

His mother catches his expression in the rearview mirror and giggles.

~~~

"How do we know which baby is ours?" Patrick asks. He's being held by his father so he can see into the window. The view is overlooking two neat rows of babies, all wearing diapers or tubes. 

"Hmm," His father taps his chin, "Well, did you know that when babies are born, they look like little old ladies?" 

"No,"

"Well they do! But it goes away soon after. Since your sister was just born, she'll still look wrinkly and red, see?" He taps the glass where a baby sits, and this one is particularly red in the face.

"But how do you know later? When it goes away?" Patrick asks.

"Oh you can't. People get their kids mixed up aaalll the time." His dad says.

"No," Patrick says.

"Yes, it's true. Who knows, maybe we got you mixed up." His dad says.

"No!" 

His father cackles, booping his nose with his finger, "Guess we'll never know for sure,"

"Daaaad," 

"Paaaat," His father counters. "Oof, alright, putting you down,"

Patrick groaned but allowed himself to be set down.

"Well, your mom's gonna be a while, let's go raid the vending machine, hmm?"

"Yes!"

~~~

Their mom is gone, and Patrick is nine and little Susan is four. They're at the kitchen table, papers and pencils strewn in front of them. Susan sits on her knees in order to reach because she has the nice chair with the cushion, but the nice chair is much shorter than the others. Her paper is covered in purple and green scribbles, and Patrick carefully folds his own paper that he's drawn large triangle teeth onto.

When he's done, he sticks his hand into the paper puppet.

"I made a monster," Patrick declares, opening and closing the mouth. Susan's eyes light up.

"Can I see?" Susan asks, reaching for it.

Patrick pulls away, "No," He says, pouting. His sister always got things grody. "It'll eat you!"

He surges forward with the puppet, making growling noises with his mouth.

"Nooo!" She shrieks, jumping up and running through the living room.

Patrick gives chase, cackling.

"Gonna eat you! Like a dinosaur!!" He says.

"Paaatrick stooop!!" She yells, "You're being mean," 

Patrick sticks his thumbs in his ears and waggles his fingers as he blows a raspberry. The effect is somewhat diminished by the fact that one of his hands is still puppetized. 

"Daaaad!" Susan yells. 

Patrick immediately panics, "Wait, no, shh, it's fine! I'll give you the monster!"

But too little too late, the door to their father's room opens. The man is still in his work clothes, not having gotten out of them as he came home and passed out on his bed. He walks down the hall, groggy.

"What're you two up to now?" He asks, arriving at the scene of the crime.

"Patrick's being mean!" Susan says, pointing.

Patrick hides the paper puppet behind his back, "No..."

Their father raises an eyebrow, "Alright, c'mon Pat. Show me what you've got," Their father holds out his hand expectantly.

Patrick pouts once more but relents, setting the folded paper into the awaiting hands.

Their father looks over the puppet curiously, opening and closing the mouth, "Huh!"

"It's a monster," Patrick supplies.

"It sure is. You make this yourself?" He asks.

Patrick huffs, "It's not like it's hard," 

"You harassing your sister with it?" He asks, voice a bit sterner.

"...maybe," 

"He didn't let me see it either!" Susan says, her eyes locked on the toy.

"Well, Pat, apologize to your sister and then let her look at it," Their father says.

"But she'll ruin it!" He says.

"Then you make another one," Their father says, hands on his hips, "Not like it's hard."

Patrick groans but he turns to his sister anyway, "I'm sorry for trying to make a monster eat you like a dinosaur,"

"Okay," Susan says, "Can I see it now?"

It's handed over and Susan immediately sticks her hand into the puppet. She opens its mouth a few times, smiling as she watches the monster flex its jaws.

Their father thinks the ruckus is mostly over now, so he cracks his back with a groan and wanders into the kitchen. Just as he's pulling out a bottle, he hears Susan yell.

"Rooaar! I'm going to eat you!!" 

"Susan!! Daaaad!!" 

Seamus sighs. He pops the bottle and takes a swig before setting it back, heading towards the living room once more.

~~~

Patrick is ten and Susan is five. They're sitting in a police station and Patrick is doing his best not to cry. One of the officers had told him to stop sniffling. Said that boys don't cry.

On the other hand, Susan doesn't cry at all. She's tired and grumpy and hungry and she doesn't know what's going on. All she knows is that it took their dad way too long to return to the motel and when a man finally knocked on the door to get them, it wasn't their father.

They didn't have food in the little fridge but Patrick scrounged around in their dad's case and pulled out a few dollars. They were able to get snacks and things from the vending machine outside like that until the money ran out. Patrick started to stick his hands into the slot to pull out pretzels after that.

Susan didn't like pretzels all that much but the good snacks were too high for her brother to reach. She was sick of pretzels.

Her brother sits with his knees tucked to his chest and one arm wrapped around himself. The other is draped over her shoulders, one of her hands tucked into his.

She leans her head into his shoulder, staring into the wall in front of them. She wants to go home.

~~~

They don't go home. Patrick tries to explain this as best he can, but it's hard. He explains that their dad is gone, and she cries. And when she finally stops she asks why they can't go home. Even if their dad isn't there the house must still be, right? 

But they can't do that either, the house isn't theirs anymore. This sets her off again and makes the man in the car grumble at them. 

Nothing is right and nothing is fair and Patrick is getting angry at all these adults. They're grownups, why are they being so mean? Mom said that adults know more than kids and that people who are smart are smart enough to know better. Then why aren't these adults smart enough to be nice?

It's stupid. Grownups are stupid.

The car stops and they're outside a building that Patrick immediately hates. 

"Alright, we're here. Got your stuff?" The man asks from the driver's seat.

Patrick adjusts their bags. They don't have much, just what their dad told them to grab before they left their house. He nods.

"Let's get inside. You can meet the other kids." He says. 

Patrick opens the car door and the world outside is coated in fog.

"C'mon, Sue," He says, tugging on her hand. She sniffles one last time as she clambers out after him. He carries both their bags as they walk into a building that seems to climb the sky. It fades into the fog and Patrick can't tell where it ends. 

He scowls even as Susan shrinks back into his shadow.

"I don't wanna," She says.

He holds her hand tight. He decides something then and there. They walk into the building and as they do he leans down close and whispers.

"We're not staying," 

~~~

The kids are mean in the foster home. On their first day someone roots through their stuff and when they can't find anything they like they call them names. Patrick tells the adult, Miss Bleaks, but she waves him off. Tells him to come back only if he needs an ambulance.

He comes back into the shared rooms and the punk who rooted around their bags looks smug. Patrick thinks he hates him. Something inside burns with indignant fury. 

Susan's bed is right next to Patrick's but she never uses it. She insists on sleeping in Patrick’s bed. claiming that there's monsters in hers. One of the other kids claims it and uses it to hide things in the pillows. 

Patrick doesn't mind. He learns early on if they get separated one of them tends to come back with a bruise. Best to stick together. Even if that doesn't always work.

~~~

He's ten, almost eleven, when the dam breaks.

Their foster home isn't one with a lot of money to spare. Considering the muttering Miss Bleaks does on a nearly daily basis, no foster home of this size has money to spare. It means that personal items are difficult to obtain and harder to keep. 

Miss Bleaks will sometimes confiscate items she believes are valuable enough to sell. It's why she took Susan's butterfly pins from off her backpack- they were the special ones their father won them at the fairgrounds before their mother died. 

Susan hugs her bag close to her chest for three days after that. She eventually stops but Patrick will still see her rubbing her thumbs over the little scars the pins made in her bag. Something akin to festering bitterness sets like a stone in his gut, but not quite.  

He isn't able to get the pins back. He sneaks into Miss Bleaks office while the rest of the home is asleep and they simply aren't in any of the drawers or cupboards. It leaves him frustrated and he slams his hand into the drywall. He's not very strong at this age- but he is big. That, combined with the age and simple shoddiness of the walls, his fists goes right through. 

Nobody hears. He goes to bed, and the next day Miss Bleaks loses her mind.

He isn't blamed, and neither is Susan. She instead turns her ire towards one of the older troublemakers. It's the kid who rifled through their things the first day, Eugene.

There's a grim sort of satisfaction he feels as he watches Miss Bleaks pull him away by the ear, still yelling about "earning his worth". 

The feeling fades quickly.

"What's she going to do with him?" Susan asks.

"Give him extra chores, probably." He says, recalling his own punishment earlier that week. Miss Bleaks thought punishment was a healthy part of a religious diet. 

"She seems real angry though..." Susan trailed off, her brows furrowed, "Is she gonna get meaner?"

He doesn't know. It's a scary thought, but he still can't make himself feel bad. 

For the first time since his dad died, something feels like it's approaching "fairness". 

He can't even feel bad when Eugene comes back late and shoves him out of bed. Susan shoots right up, eyes wide as her brother topples to the floor.

"What was that for!?" Patrick shouts.

"You know what it's for you little lout!" He yells, "You think I'm stupid?"

Patrick gets up and stares him down, "I sure as hell don't think you're smart." 

Eugene's fist connects with Patrick's eye. He topples over, landing hard on the tiled floor. He's not fast enough to get out of the way as Eugene collides with him, knocking the rest of the wind out of him. 

He's hit again, and again, and again, and his arms are pinned to his sides and he can vaguely hear murmuring through the din in his ears.

Eugene is fourteen. Patrick is still ten. At that age, he should have had a few inches of height over Patrick. He does not. Patrick is not a small child.

With a snarl Patrick folds his legs up and kicks the older boy off him. Eugene loses balance and soon their positions are reversed, Patrick above and the other below. Patrick doesn't bother using his fists, his hand still throbbing from where he punched the wall.

It's why Miss Bleaks comes in after midnight to find that there's a ring of children surrounding Patrick and his assailant, as Patrick kicks the other boy in the gut.

~~~

Patrick and Eugene are hauled off and don't come back until morning. Susan finds that she can't sleep. When light finally creeps in through the window, her eyes feel raw. 

They come back sporting more bruises but a few band aids as well. They don't speak to each other as they head to their beds. 

Patrick sits down next to Sue and she sits back up.

Wordlessly she throws her arms around him, and he does the same. 

~~~

They run away from the foster home. Patrick is eleven and Susan is six. 

~~~

Sometimes Susan misses Miss Bleaks. She wasn't very good but she gave them candy and at least when she was around her brother pretended to be nice to other people. They live outside now and it's cold and Patrick is only ever nice to her. And when he is he isn't nice like he used to be.

He's angry all the time and he doesn't like it when she doesn't do what he says. He shouts at her once and she gets angry too and she shouts back. She doesn't like living outside. She doesn't like being mean. She doesn't like how he's acting.

They end up screaming at each other until Sue bursts into tears and runs off. Patrick doesn't chase after her, but he certainly shouts after her.

She runs until she finds a crevice between buildings and she sits there and cries. It's summer and it's supposed to be hot but as night falls she's still freezing. She wants to be under their tarp again where they have a bunch of stolen blankets and pillows. She wants Patrick to read her another story from the book from the library. She wants the chips they scored from the lady's shopping cart at the store.

She sits and huddles against the wall even as the stars begin to creep up the sky. She's too distraught to get up. She doesn't know where she is anymore and she can't remember where Patrick said their new home was. 

She's half asleep when she hears footsteps. A light is being shined down the alley she's in.

"Sue?" 

She pokes her head out, "Pat?" 

It's her brother. She runs out and leaps at him, crying.

He catches her, holding her tight. He looks lost.

Neither of them apologize. They just go back to their makeshift tent and go to bed. She picks out a story and her brother reads it to her. Patrick never shouts at her like that again.

~~~

Patrick is sixteen and Sue is eleven. Patrick's a sophomore in high school and Sue's in sixth grade. 

She has her extra credit work set out in front of her, though her pen is scratching out doodles in the margins. 

She hears a click in the front door and it swings open to reveal her brother. She checks the clock- it's four.

"I'm home, punk!" Patrick greets, slamming the door behind him and shaking himself loose. 

"They let you go early?" She asks.

"Nah," Patrick says, shrugging off his jacket onto the arm chair, "Left school earlier than usual. Got done with work at record speed." 

"Kay," She says, "Our neighbor brought us spaghetti and pie," 

"Nice," 

"In the fridge," She calls as he zips into the kitchen. Sue crosses out a particularly terrible picture of a Bulbasaur. Her chemistry teacher doesn't like her doodles. 

She becomes aware of a presence looming above her. 

"Nice dragon," Patrick says pointing at her paper.

She tugs it away, scowling at him, "Go eat your pie."

He snickers, sitting down on the armchair and stretching out, pie in hand. Patrick takes a bite even as he fumbles for the remote and turns on the TV. That had been a good find. They go out to the dumpster behind their complex often and all the things they usually find are broken. The TV was cracked on the side, chunks of the casing missing and revealing complicated innards. Despite that, it functioned. 

The hardest thing really was trying to find a remote that worked with it.

Patrick flips through channels, passing by a toddler cartoon, a black and white crime movie, the local news, and finally stopping at over the top reality drama. Their apartment is calm after that, the sounds of bad TV mingling with the scratching of pencil over paper and the hum of the ceiling fan above.

Neither of them mention the bruise on his jaw nor the scratches on his hands. It's normal, by now.

As is it normal that when Sue is done with her work, she sets it down on the table before disappearing into the kitchen. She comes back a moment later with antiseptic and band aids. 

~~~

High school is not kind to Patrick. He's learned that in order to make it through the day, he has to bare his teeth and snap at the other dogs pacing the cage. The teachers don't appreciate this, but he never listened to authority and he isn't going to start now.

It's not his choice to go to school. He guesses it isn't anyone's choice, really, but he doesn't have parents breathing down his back checking for grades and misconduct slips from the principal like most do. 

He works under the counter at a bar at the edge of town. He doesn't pour drinks nor does he talk to the customers all that often, but he works in the kitchen and he fries potatoes and can slap together a mean burger. It's mostly cooking and storage and cleaning but it pays and he can take home leftovers so it's good.

Dan, the bar's owner, is a good guy. A larger man, round. He's got hairy knuckles and wears a deep brown leather jacket half the time Patrick sees him. Dan pays him what he can and it's a decent gig. Patrick can safely say that he likes it, even though Dan won't let him work longer hours.

"If yer gonna work for me, yer gonna have to go back to school, kid." Dan says at the beginning, "I don't hire fools,"

Patrick scowls, "I'm not a fool. You said yourself I work harder than anyone else you've hired," 

"And I meant that," Dan says and then levels him with a hard stare, "I don't say what I don't mean, Pat. But hard work and bein' stupid are not mutually exclusive. You didn't know shit when you came 'ere lookin' for work. We had to teach you.

"Now I don't regret that one bit, you took to learnin' like a fish to water. But don't think for one second I want you to get comfy now that you know the basics. You keep learnin' and you keep not bein' a fool or yer gonna have to find another job. Capeesh?"

He furrows his brow but he nods. Later that night when he's wrapping up the last of the mopping and about to head home Dan comes back and places a glass into his hands. It doesn't look like any of the drinks they serve. It has a straw as well, and Patrick takes a sip.

"Is this a root beer float?" Patrick asks. 

"Sure is, kid. Don't choke on it."

~~~

Sue has to walk home from school. The bus is too expensive and she's not too far away from their apartment, so it's fine. Some other kids walk home and while the group of students always splits up at some point, it's fun to walk with her friends as she walks. 

It's not so fun when there's brat from her class walking behind her.

Her friend that she usually walks with was absent today so she's walking alone while too giggling girls mutter behind her. They're whispering in a way children do when they aren't really trying to be quiet.

Her face burns red and she has to fight back tears. 

Susan doesn't like bullies. She doesn't like it when people are mean for no reason.

She also doesn't like it when Patrick goes out and picks fights, but sometimes she wishes differently. 

~~~

Sue went to Patrick's school only once. On a field trip to the high schools in the city, in which there were really only two. One on the nicer end of the city, where they had two gyms and the property had a lawn managed by a few groundskeepers. The other was on the opposite side of town, where Patrick went. 

The school was big enough for their district, had the normal amount of students truly been going there. As it was, the school was packed. 

It made navigating the halls during the passing period hell for anyone who wasn't acquainted.

Someone clearly neglected to tell Sue's homeroom teacher this fact. 

As her teacher tries to slip past the throng, Susan ends up getting left behind. She frowns as she loses sight of her classmates. The teenagers here are too tall! How does anyone do anything like this?

She presses herself against the wall. At least like that she was out of the way. 

"Hey, Sue," Pat says, walking through the crowd like it wasn't even there.

"Hey, Pat," She says. It was so weird to see Patrick in his own school. 

"Your class get consumed by the hoard?" He asks.

"Yeah! How do you go through this without getting trampled?" She asks.

"Wanna see?" He asks conspiratorially. 

"Sure,"

And with that Sue is hauled up onto his shoulders. 

She's grinning even as people look on with curiosity. She even spots a teacher who looks like she can't believe what she's seeing. She gives the teacher a happy wave.

Sometimes her brother is the coolest.

"So, you wanna skip?" He asks casually.

"No, Patrick."

~~~

Sue does not have parents she can call. So when she's marched to the principal's office and told to give them a phone number, she shares the only one she reasonably can.

Her older brother is also in school right now but she doesn't say that, she doesn't say anything.

Patrick shows up ten minutes later and he sits next to her in the principal's office, little primrose Jessica and her mom sitting besides them. The principal's eyebrow raises when Patrick enters, and he flashes her a winning smile.

"Morning," He says... nicely. Sue squints at him. The last time Sue saw her brother interact with a teacher he swore no less than fourteen times. Still, Sue didn't say anything. She folds her hands into her lap to keep them from fidgeting.

"Hello," The principal begins, "You're Susan's brother, I presume?"

"Sure," Patrick says, "Nice to meet you," 

He extends his hand and the principal takes it, her eyes flicking down to the colorful band aids on his knuckles. She shakes her head slightly, as if to clear it.

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression I would be seeing one of your parents," She explains.

"Both are at work, sorry." Patrick says, then scratches his head.

"I, uh, thought I'd just be taking my 'lil sister home, actually, so." He looks around the room like he doesn't know what's going on. Sue keeps her eyes down.

Jessica's mother clears her throat.

"Right, right," The principal says, getting back to the matter at hand.

She explains what happened at lunch.

Sue and Jessica were not friends. Jessica had a fancy backpack and fancy pens, Sue did not. Jessica liked to boast about this fact. Sue did her work and did it right, and only let people she liked copy it. Jessica was not one of them.

Jessica shared rumors and lies, things that once made Sue cry but now just made her grind her teeth. Sue kept telling herself, over and over again, that Jessica's stupid, Jessica's dumb. She's gonna end up on the side of the road or in a McDonald's, even though working in a fast food place is probably too good for her. Maybe McDonalds doesn't deserve the blight that is Jessica. 

Jessica would hate every second of it though, so maybe not.

Then Jessica thought it would be funny to pour glue into Sue's water bottle.

And the dam sprung a leak. 

Jessica, being the one who was punched, got to tell her side of the story first. Her mother nods along sympathetically. She even holds her daughter's hand as she begins to sniffle, as Jessica points to the scratch on her cheek. It was from Jessica fell over and face planted on the ground.

Sue keeps her eyes down, down, down. Don't look up, don't react. Her nails bite into her palms. It's hard to keep her breathing in check. Getting angry now would just spell bad news for her, especially in front of the principal. 

Patrick sets a hand on her shoulder, gently. He gives it a quick squeeze, and Sue feels better. 

It almost makes the fact that the principal doesn't bother to ask her side of the story better, but only almost. 

Patrick remains cool through all of this, nodding along when the principal's eyes land on him. She can tell, the way only family can, when Patrick gets angry. She's not sure how. It's when Jessica's mother starts talking about juvie. She can just feel the immediate rage spark off him while the rest of the room remains oblivious. 

It gives her the courage to lift her head. If only to see what Patrick says next.

"Well," Patrick interrupts, earning him a sharp look from Jessica's mom. He doesn't flinch, but his expression becomes sweet, even as the woman opens her mouth.

"Why aren't you in school?" She asks.

Patrick smiles, and then he lies, "Got a few free periods after fourth,"

The mother's mouth twists the wrong way even as the principal turns her gaze to Patrick. 

"Oh," She says, "I imagine you're both academically inclined, then?" 

Patrick shrugs, looking away bashfully, "Me? Nah. Sue, on the other hand, always looks forward to school. It's why it's so weird I've got to be here right now,"

The principal nods, her eyes landing back on Patrick's hands, "Do you know why your sister may be acting out? Any trouble at home?"

"Trouble? Ah, well," Patrick's hand pats her shoulder gently, and his tone goes sad, "Our dog just died a couple days ago, if that's what you mean."

The principal's face goes somber, and Sue lets her gaze drop back to the floor. The room is silent for a moment.

"Well, she can't just get away with this type of behavior," Jessica's mom says. Jessica nods, "She's still a bully," 

The principal sighs, "Of course, Mrs. Phillips," She turns back to Patrick, "If we could have one of your parent's numbers I can speak more in depth about this with them at a later date,"

"Of course," Patrick says. He's handed a sticky note and writes down a number, though Sue isn't sure whose. 

They're all dismissed, Sue taking Patrick's hand and walking out of school. She's somewhat surprised by the afternoon sun still high in the sky. It felt like they day had dragged on forever but it wasn't even lunch. 

"You coming?" Patrick asks, nodding towards the sidewalk. Sighing, Sue follows. 

They're walking for a little while when Sue pipes up.

"Sorry," She says.

"What for?" Patrick asks. She turns to her side to look at him and he's currently picking something from his teeth.

"For pulling you out of school, I guess." She says.

"Eh," Patrick waves it off, "It's useless anyway," 

Her brows furrow at that. It's not, but also it kinda is? Maybe it was just the teachers who were terrible. Maybe Patrick was right and authority just... sucked. 

They walk a little longer before Patrick turns to her.

"You feel bad about decking that girl?" He asks.

Sue doesn't need to think about it, "No," 

"Good," Patrick nods, "She looked like a butter brat,"

"She was," Sue groans, "She's rich and stupid and she poured glue into my water bottle," 

Patrick scowls, stopping where he is on the cement. Sue takes a few steps before realizing, turning back to look at her brother.

"Pat?"

"Did you punch her good?" He asks.

"No," Sue says, "She's just whiny. You wouldn't have even been called in if she didn't call her mom and cry," 

Patrick's scowl deepens, "Remind me to teach you how to throw a punch later," He grumbles. 

Sue shrugs, and they continue walking.

They're almost home when Sue speaks up.

"What number did you give them?" She asks.

"Ah fuck right, " He says, "We gotta give Dan the heads up."

She blinks, and then gapes, "You gave them your boss's phone number?"

"He can totally pretend to be our dad! It'll be fine,"

"Patrick, oh my god," 

"It'll be fiiiine,"

~~~

And it is fine. Patrick is teased about it relentlessly by the two lesbians who work the bar, though. And sometimes Dan himself will give him crap, but it's fine. It's fine even though Dan starts to act a bit odd. Just as bossy and just as stern as always, but odd.

He's sent home with food more often than not these days. He'll ask after Sue, ask about his grades. Patrick tells him the truth, he sees no reason not to, and Dan simply nods through it all. 

The weirdest thing that happens is when Dan gives him a wrapped present one day after work. The present is small. It fits snugly in the palm of his hand.

Dan looks awkward for a reason Patrick can't discern. 

"For you and yer sister. Merry Christmas, kid." 

Patrick doesn't mention that. He undoes the tie and rips open the paper then and there. Inside there are two things.

A thin, silver chain looped through a single blue butterfly wing, made of glass and copper. And a watch, with a black leather strap and silver casing. It's ticking steadily, and Patrick wonders how he didn't hear it before then.

He blinks, then turns to look at Dan.

"...Thanks," He says.

"Sure," Dan says gruffly, then coughs into his shoulder, "Now get outta here. Yer stinkin' up the place." 

~~~

They don't go to Dan's bar every day, not even every week. But they go often enough that Sue learns the names of the bartenders and she knows where to find the chips without having to ask. They usually go after school, and Sue does her homework while her brother works.

Sometimes that changes, and they'll just sit and talk as someone else works. On those days, few as they are, Dan usually sits with them.

He claims to be keeping an eye on them, keeping them out of trouble. Sue doesn't think anything of it. And when it's time for them to leave he ruffles both of their heads and sends them off. 

The best days are the ones where he sends them off with food. Dan makes the best garlic fries.

~~~

Sue comes home a bit later than usual. School had been obnoxious, her teacher holding the entire class late for some reason- Sue can admit she was distracted by the clock.

She has the key to their apartment though, so it's no big deal. The lock clicks and she lets herself in, only to find that the lights are already on. Did Patrick not have work today?

The door leads directly into the kitchen but it's only a few steps into the living room, and that's where she goes. She's not expecting Dan to be there.

"Dan??" She asks.

"Hey," Patrick says, and she realizes he's strewn over the recliner, a bag of peas pressed to his eye. Dan has got their first aid kit out and he's gently disinfecting a nasty scrape Patrick has on his arm.

"The hell's going on?" She asks, letting her bag fall off her shoulder.

"He got into a fight," Dan grunts.

"That I won," Patrick clarifies.

Sue isn't at the right angle to see but she can tell that Dan's giving Patrick a glare.

"Why's Dan here?" She asks.

"He called me," Dan says.

"I did," Patrick says.

"...Why?" 

Patrick makes a sound like he wants to respond, but the words don't come. He makes a face which Sue is fairly certain means he doesn't know.

She looks to Dan and he meets her eye.

"He put a kid in the hospital," Dan says, setting the wipe down. He rifles through the bag of band aids, "You two need gauze,"

"Patrick!" She says.

"Told you I won," Patrick says.

"He got expelled," 

"You got in a fight at school?!" She asks.

"It's the be-" He breaks into a coughing fit, "-est arena around, Sue," 

"Oh my god," She mutters, looking out the window. The sun's setting. 

"He's concussed," Dan says, unhelpfully.

"Whoa," Patrick says to the ceiling.

"Why is my brother so stupid..." Sue mutters to herself. 

Dan claps her on the shoulder, "Them's just the way teenagers are, kiddo. You'll learn soon enough," 

"I'm not looking forward to it." She says. 

Sue turns to flop onto the couch and groans into the cushions.

"Ice cream sounds so good right now," Patrick mumbles.

"We can get some once I find something to wrap this with," Dan says.

~~~

It takes a while for Patrick to heal. Between the scrapes and bruised ribs there was also the concussion and twisted ankle. Patrick assured Dan that it wasn't sprained though he's still forced to take two weeks off. Patrick's certain if he even spills a peep of complaint Dan will haul his ass straight to the hospital. 

It's not like he's doing much in the meantime. He doesn't have school anymore and until he can head back into work he's basically stuck at home watching TV. 

And as he sits there watching cheap TV drama, he decides that there could be worse fates.

~~~

The day he comes back into work is a dull one. It's fall and the air is chilled, so he shucks his coat once he steps into the backroom. Dan gives him a nod from where he sits to the side, typing away at the computer. 

He's just about to head into the kitchen when Dan clears his throat.

"Pat, come 'ere a sec," He says.

Patrick makes his way over, settling against the edge of the table.

"What's up, boss?" Patrick asks.

Dan gives him a look, "You remember the deal we made when I first hired you?" 

Patrick scratches his cheek, "Sure," He says, "Why're you bringing it up?"

"'Cause yer not goin' to school anymore, Pat,"

"Well duh," Patrick laughs, "I got expelled,"

Dan doesn't say anything. Patrick stops laughing. 

Dan leans over to his filing cabinet and opens it. It's a mess of papers but what he's looking for is on top of the stack and he hands it to Patrick. It's a pamphlet. 

Patrick's expression immediately falls.

"'Teenage Reform School?'" Patrick says, incredulous. 

"They'll take any kid, no matter their record," Dan grunts, "They do it for free, so don't you worry about cost or nothin'." 

Patrick is silent.

"I can't sign you up, so yer gonna have to do it yourself," Dan says.

"...I'm not doing this," 

"You don't even know what it is," Dan says.

"It's bullshit," Patrick tosses the pamphlet onto the desk, "I'm gonna go mop," 

"Pat-"

The door to the kitchen slams.

~~~

The pamphlet is pressed into his hands the moment he's about to leave.

"Just give it a look through, okay, kid?" Dan says, more earnest than he's ever seen him before. 

"...Fine,"

~~~

"I told you before, if yer gonna work 'ere yer gonna have to hit the books," Dan says.

"It wasn't like I was learning anything at school, you know." He says, "You know I didn't do shit there, you know all those classes are useless," Patrick says.

"I trusted you to learn what you thought was valuable, not what they were teachin', kid. It's not about the garbage they feed you- it's the kids your age you meet and the way that shapes your life,"

"What do you know about my life? Why the fuck do you care?" Patrick shouts, stomping his foot. He growls, stomping again and again, going in circles. Dan wrings his hands.

"I just want you to have some normalcy, Pat," Dan stresses.

"Oh, great job then, giving me normalcy. I bet the reform program's going to be a blast." Patrick spits, "Why not just rip up the rest of my life while you're at it- oh wait, that's exactly what you're trying to do!" 

"Would it really be so bad? You'd get three meals a day and a near guaranteed shot at college-"

"Yeah, and they'd stick us back in a home again," Patrick snaps, "Probably in another city! Who knows if they'll even keep us together? Where will we be then, huh? What's Sue gonna do?"

"Pat, you can't possibly think it'll be worse than what yer doin' now!" Dan says, "Look at yerself, kid! How many times have you gone to bed hungry? Or sick or hurt? Is that the life you want to live? Is that the kinda life you want to give yer sister?" Dan says, reaching forward to grab Patrick's shoulders. 

Patrick wriggles out of his grip.

"You don't know anything," Patrick says lowly. He turns and leaves.

He doesn't come back. 

~~~

Patrick is seventeen and Sue is twelve. Patrick doesn't go to school anymore even though Sue does. Money is tight and Patrick encourages her to steal food from the cafeteria when she can.

"Those lunches cost pennies, Sue. They've been overcharging things like this to students for years. They aren't worth your pity," 

They don't go to see Dan anymore, even though he calls. She never sees him show up, but sometimes she'll find boxes of food left out in front of their door. And there's only one person who can cook like that.

Patrick hasn't realized. He still thinks it's the neighbors. 

Sue doesn't bother to correct him. 

Things were never great but they aren't good like they used to be. Their routine has been thrown and Sue is left feeling out of sorts. Patrick can't find another job but he still keeps coming home with money.

(Money and bruises and very odd things tucked away in pockets and bags.)

He comes in and ruffles her hair, "You get your homework done, punk?"

"Yeah, Pat," She sighs.

"Cool," He says, sweeping across the room into the cupboards, "I've got a gig later tonight, won't be back until late. Or until... early, I guess."

Sue watches as he rummages around before pulling things out and slipping them into his pockets. 

"You leaving now?" She asks.

"Yeah, gonna pick up some food first. Don't wanna work this on an empty stomach," He says. 

"...Kay," 

He grins, a bit wild, before ruffling her hair again.

"Ugh, Pat!"

He blows a raspberry, "See you later, don't set the house on fire." 

He leaves as quickly as he came. She hears the lock click. 

"Bye," Sue says to the closed door.

~~~

It's late, or maybe it's early, and Patrick sits on the edge of a fountain at the park. He's supposed to wait here until a guy with a piercing in his nose shows up, but he's taking his sweet time. 

Someone sits with him- another kid. Patrick holds the bag of goods and he'll sometimes catch the other sneaking looks at it. He's a bit older than Patrick but that's fine. Pat's still the bigger one. Teachers used to mistake him to be a senior, or a student who's failed several grades. He's neither, but it's odd that people can't tell at first glance.

"You sure you don't want to take a peek?" The other asks. Patrick hasn't bothered to learn his name and doubts he ever will. He doesn't look impressive and his personality seems to match.

Patrick scratches his chin idly, "Nah, I really don't." 

"It's not like it's a bomb or anything," 

Patrick snorts, "How'd you figure that one out, sherlock?"

The other boy scowls, "Least I'm not the one with Hello Kitty bandaids on my hands," He sniffs.

Patrick carefully sets the bag down before grabbing onto the other's collar. The kid is just about to say something about that when, with a sudden shove, Patrick dunks the kid's head into the fountain. Once, twice, three times before yanking the sopping wet teenager and chucking him to the ground. 

He picks the bag back up and takes his seat as the other boy regains his breathing.

"You little shit!" He seethes, spitting water from his mouth.

"Creative," Patrick drawls, "Take a seat before you fall over, you stupid sack of salt." 

The confused and indignant look that crosses the boy's face is worth the extra bruise. Especially since Patrick's the one who gets handed the cash as the other boy pukes into the fountain. 

~~~

Patrick is taking Sue to the movies. Sue walks behind him, making sure not to step on the cracks in the concrete. She's been wanting to see this movie since she saw the trailer on her friend's phone.

The movie theater is inside the mall, and they have to walk through it to get to the ticket booth. She tries not to look in any of the windows. She thinks they're not as short on cash this week but that doesn't mean they're loaded.

"Why don't you see if you can get any skittles or something?" Patrick says, nudging her shoulder. 

"'Kay," She says, wandering out of line towards the candy booth.  It's tucked away in the corner next to all the promotional posters. The candy at the movie theater is always so expensive. Even so, she roots around her pocket and fishes out three dollars that she harvested from the sidewalk.

Looking over the candy she frowns.

"Don't have something you want, dear?" The woman manning the booth asks, not unkindly.

"No, it's not that. Everything's too expensive," Sue says.

"Oh I know, prices here are so inflated," She says sadly. Then she looks around before turning to her conspiratorially.

"If you could get one though, which one would you get?" She asks.

"Uuuhm," Sue actually looks at the candy and not just the price tags, "The chocolate bag,"

The woman reaches in and pulls the bag out. She sets it out for Sue to take.

"Thank you for your purchase," She says with a wink.

Sue grins, taking the bag and giggling before running back to Patrick.

"Got the tickets?" She asks.

"Yup," He says, waving them, "Let's go see if we can get some good seats."

As they go through the door Sue spots a police officer talking to someone with a uniform and name tag. He's facing away from her but she can see the employee, the manager?, clearly. He wears a worried expression even as he nods.

"C'mon, Sue," Patrick says, tugging on her shoulder.

She follows, noting how Patrick keeps his head down the rest of the way to their seats.

~~~

Patrick presses himself up against the wall, his breathing heavy. His muscles in his leg spasm, and it takes all his concentration to keep it from buckling. 

He hears footsteps hit cement and he sucks in a breath and holds it. His head throbs with every word spoken by the officers, and he slowly sinks down to hide in the shadows behind the dumpster. 

He hears someone enter his alley, a light slicing through the dark. Patrick clenches his eyes shut and prays to- to something. Something, please, keep me safe.

He leans his head into the brick, focusing on the darkness behind his eyelids. He wants to go home.

(Does home want him to go?)

The footsteps stop, and then they fade into the distance. 

He doesn't let out a breath of relief. He gets up, quickly, silently, and he opens his eyes.

The alley is next to the street- he's in the shopping district. In front of the alley is the road. Behind him is a wooden fence, and what lies beyond it is unknown. The swarm of officers can no longer be heard, but he's not stupid. He's never been stupid.

He hops the fence.

~~~

Sue has not left the apartment in two days. She knows she should go to school but she can't force herself to go. Anxiety rolls in her gut, a leviathan in a swimming pool. She hasn't been able to sleep in her room either. She fell asleep on the couch last night.

It started the day before. Her brother left. He promised to be back soon, and then didn't come back. 

She's been hearing sirens around town too, cars driving up and down the city. She turned on the news just once, only to hear that a police officer had been killed. 

She turned it off.  

Sue wonders if she should get up and search. But of course that wouldn't be practical. The city isn't small and Patrick could be anywhere.

(He could be dead)

She holds the first aid kit to her chest, just in case. She can feel the rolls of gauze stuffing it full. It makes hugging the bag soft, and the sensation is oddly familiar.

When a man finally knocks at the door, it's not her brother.

~~~

It's an officer. She's taken away.

~~~

Susan O'Brian is twelve. That's what her papers say, says the social worker. She didn't ask Sue. 

"It's all very impressive, dearie," She twitters, "Excellent grades... great health... and with your disposition you'll be snapped up in no time flat!" 

Sue sits in an office. It's been decorated to seem more appealing to children, with soft chairs and cushions and toys, but Sue can't help but find the setup patronizing. She feels too old for pastel blankets or neon toys. She wants her sketchpad. She wants her books. Sue wasn't allowed to bring them, and she keeps being brushed off when she brings it up.

The chair she's sitting in is tall, more of a stool. Her shoes don't touch the floor. 

"Uhm," She says, "Miss?" 

The social worker looks up, a sweet smile on her face, "Yes?"

"Have they found my brother yet?" She asks quietly.

"Oh right, right, gimme a sec, dearie," She says, turning to her computer and typing away.

The room is filled with the sounds of clicking for a while. Sue stays quiet. She can be patient.

"...Says right here they caught him on the fourth of this month!" She says.

"Um, no." Sue says, "That was the initial capture, he escaped. Has he been found since?"

"Really?" The woman hums, then turns back to the computer to type.

After a minute, the social worker speaks up again, "Seems here he's still at large, hun. I'm sorry Susan-pie," 

"It's just Sue,"

"Hmm?" The social worker says, still looking at her computer.

"Never mind,"

The foster home she's currently in is the one she and Patrick stayed in when they were younger. It's different. There's less kids for one, and some, if not most of the structural damages have been repaired. 

It looks almost nice. 

"Do you..." She says, and the social worker looks up again.

"Do you what?"

"Do you... know what happened to Miss Bleaks?" Sue asks, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.

The social worker blinks, "Oh she died a few years back, hun." 

She turns back to typing, but still continues, "Nasty nasty case of pneumonia, I think. Didn't last long after that."

"Oh," Sue says quietly.

~~~

Things have been changed irrevocably but Sue can't feel it. She's not in her body, she's not in her mind. She's floating high, high up in the atmosphere, so high she can't see the ground. Things pass around and then through her- she's a cloud.

Mist in the wind, only visible from afar. Sometimes an adult will come to her and talk. About adoption, about schooling, about programs and homework and friends. 

She tries not to talk about her brother. It's not hard. Sue is worried, she's terrified, but maybe she's not Sue. Maybe she's someone else, just living in her body for Sue. Waiting until she gets back and brings it all down to earth. 

Nobody tries to force her to talk about him, so. Maybe that helps too.

She has free time. A lot of it. Some people encourage her to do things, to play, to run. She's handed books to read when she asks but they aren't hers. She has books she was in the middle of- these are new. Will she ever finish those books? Ever return them to the library?

Or will they remain forever half-told, the rise to the climax ending in an abrupt, steep cliff?

She doesn't read the new books. She doesn't do anything, really. 

Adults mistake her apathy for something else. Something like obedience. Like agreeability or passiveness, something she's not.

Sometimes she understands Patrick and his hate of grown ups. Sometimes she can agree with him completely. Other times, the necklace under her shirt is an anchor and she knows that Patrick's view wasn't the full picture.

But he wasn't wrong, either. Maybe adults aren't broken, maybe they're just like kids. Maybe you grow up and you forget everything you learned while you were young. Maybe growing up was fake. Maybe maybe maybe.

"Susan, sweetie?" A voice calls. It's the new foster home owner. He's an older guy with thinning hair. His smile is as tired as it is genuine.

She looks up at him. She was staring at the floor, before.

"The computer in the main room is all set up. You can have first go at it if you'd like," He says.

"Okay," She says, getting up from her bed. It wasn't the same bed she had when she had been here so long ago.

She wanders out of the dorm and wanders into the main room. The computer that had been set up there was indeed free, and Sue slid herself into the seat.

She didn't know what to do there for a moment. Then a thought slipped under the door.

She typed in 'Patrick O'Brian'.

There were several news articles. A statement by the police. A picture of her brother. Not a police photo, one they must have gotten from the school. A lovely picture of the police officer he killed.

Patrick never liked the cops.

She starts reading. It's more information than she's gotten in the three weeks from the adults around her.

A delinquent, known criminal record. The police were mad, mad, mad. They wanted Patrick to be taken in. They haven't stopped searching yet, but the hunt has lessened as time went on. If only slightly. The articles don't mention Sue at all. She's not sure if she should have expected that. 

The officer who died has his name plastered all around town. Despite this, Sue can't even bring herself to care. She doesn't even know his name. 

There was speculation from the journalist that the police wanted to try Patrick as an adult. The chief of police had a quote going on and on about how troublemakers like this don't get better, they simply rot from the inside out. They were simply... born a bit worse than the rest of society.

Whatever was suspending her high in the air snapped.

She looks into the articles with a sudden fervor, reading until she comes across a description of the officer's death.

'...was found dead at eleven PM at the bottom of an open manhole. Forensics suggests that the height at which he fell killed him instantly upon impact. He carried with him his unloaded gun, suggesting he had not wanted to shoot an unarmed teenager. Despite this, the officer accompanying the victim insists that the manhole cover could have only been lifted up and set aside, as he says that city reports conclude that everything on that street is up to code.'

There's a picture of the manhole, the cover, and the corpse that was lifted out. She winces, but her eyes are soon glued to the cover.

Up to code her ass, that thing was so very clearly split in two. It was laying on the road, a visible crack running down the middle. If she looked carefully, the edge of the crack near the top looked weathered, while the rest of it was fresh, clean metal shining under the light of the camera.

She couldn't stop staring.

It looked like it had broken, clearly. The words on the cover had long since been eroded away under layers of rust. The manhole was in the middle of a one lane street, meaning that car tires wouldn't be on top of it often. Cars would drive over it.

If someone stepped on it, and maybe they were running, could a manhole cover just... snap?

No, is her first thought, but the question lingers. Maybe it broke when Patrick picked it up.

And then a question that feels so obvious she's embarrassed by how long it took to come to her. Why would Patrick do that?

If he was being chased by the police he wouldn't stop in the middle of the road to lay a... trap? Is that what the cops are calling this? That's stupid. 

Patrick isn't stupid. 

Sue isn't either.

~~~

Sue is outside. It's a mandatory recess, and everyone has to do it. The sky is cloudy but it's not cold. Sometimes the sun will peak through the gaps in the grey and leave warm spots trailing along the ground.

She sits on the bench, looking through the chain link fence towards the street. Her eyes follow the few cars that drive up and down. 

The field isn't like the field at school, but it's not small by any means. One of the adults called it 'cozy', but Sue doesn't really care. People are coming to meet her tomorrow. Adoptions, and all that.

And it's this she wants to say she doesn't care about either, but she does. It's upsetting. In a way she can't articulate. It's only made worse by the adults around her tiptoeing around her or completely ignoring the problems. For people who work with kids, they sure as hell don't know what they're doing.

The kids mostly leave her alone. There's a couple punks that have bothered her, but she stands her ground. Patrick taught her how to throw a punch, but she never needs to use that skill. Keeping your head on straight is all you need when the adults in charge finally give a damn.

The fence around the field wraps around the main building as well,  going back behind it and out of view. There's a section she can't see because of the wall, which is also blocking the street.

It's from here she hears a voice.

"Sue, come here a sec," 

"...Patrick??" She says.

She gets up and pokes her head behind the wall. Sure enough, her brother is standing in the shade of the building. He's got a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a brown leather jacket that is somehow too large for his wide shoulders.

"Hey Sue," He says, but his smile is strained.

"Pat!" She rushes forward.

Patrick drops to one knee, holding his arms out to catch her. 

She holds him for a moment. Clings to him like she'll never see him again.

When she finally pushes away, it's to shake him by the shoulders.

"Pat- Pat you've been framed!" She says, "The police are lying and they're making up evidence and they're not being fair, they're not- they're not-" 

She hiccups, shaking her head furiously. He takes her hand in his.

"I know." He says, "I know."

"You didn't do anything they say you did," She insists, "We need to prove them wrong,"

"We can't." Patrick says simply. He lets his hands fall into his bag and begins to root around.

"What do you mean? They can't do this, they're gonna- they said they wanted to try you as an adult and that means they're gonna put you in jail-" She trails off as Patrick presents her a backpack. It's fairly small but it's stuffed.

"I got your stuff from the apartment. I dropped by to get some things and noticed these got left behind," He says, handing her the bag, "If anyone asks, you brought these here with you,"

"...Pat?" 

He looks at her.

"You're not... what are you doing?" She asks. 

"I've gotta skip town," He says.

She blusters, "But what about-"

He cuts her off, "There's no evidence. It's my word against theirs,"

"That's not fair!" She shouts, and Patrick immediately slaps his hand over her mouth.

"Shh, quiet. I'm wanted, remember?" 

Her eyes go wide. She nods. He pulls away and she's left standing ramrod straight with her fists clenched at her sides. The world narrows down to just the two of them. The noise from the street, the chattering of other kids nearby, it's all gone. 

"It's not fair." She says quietly.

"It's not." He says, "I'm sorry."

She looks up when she hears a sniffle. She wraps her arms around his middle once more, and he collapses all the way to the pavement. She feels too exhausted to cry, but Patrick must know that because he cries enough for the both of them.

"Can I go with you?" She asks.

"No, Sue, you gotta stay," He mumbles, "And I gotta go,"

"Not fair. You're not fair, Pat, you're mean and stupid and-"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

She buries herself into his coat, "S'not fair,"

Patrick rests his hand on her head. He looks up at the cloudy sky, the little blotches of sunlight seeping through. He'll leave soon. In just a few minutes. He'll be out of the city, heading far away. Nothing to his name except a lot of mistakes. 

He holds his sister close. He's lucky he gets to say goodbye.

"I know, Sue." 

[v-poreons]

ERMM.... trollsona posting.... Firefly my absolute beloved. She is me fr. Cant believe I haven't shared her here yet