#obviously the method wasn’t the best but it’s already happened

[wibbly-wobbly-kylie-wylie-blog]

Erha Spoilers because I can’t control myself

AYO MU YANLI REALLY SACRIFICED HERSELF LIKE THAT AND OPENED UP THE DEVIL’S GATE OR WHATEVER IT’S CALLED ??!,!?!??

honestly such a slay sister moment!!!!

but now the world is gonna suffer heavenly punishment so that kinda sucks but I sure hope the butterfly bone descendants can go home since the gate is open anyway

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[g1rld1ary]

camp counselor!james potter x reader 2

wc: 1989

cw: swearing, nothing

prev

TAG: @lovemenotts

Camp had started in full swing, as expected. You’d spent the whole day jumping from task to task; handing out bandaids, sorting out friendship dramas (how were there already dramas when the kids had been there twenty minutes?) and introducing yourself to the new campers. Things were going smoothly until dinner had finished and the whole camp was packed into the underdeveloped amphitheatre, ready for a night of singing and speeches.

You and James had commenced the evening with an official welcome, only one or two undermining comments on each side. James’ performative traits could come in handy but they annoyed you to no end, resulting in several pointed elbows when he ventured too far off track and approached stand-up territory.

“So what’d you think?” He asked after you’d started off the music for the night, hot on your tail.

“I think you need to fall out of love with yourself a little,” You quipped, not sparing much of a look at him.

“C’mon, you’re so convinced I’m not taking this seriously but I didn’t mess it up at all!” He whined, tailing you as you weaved your way over to the cabin group you were in charge of. There was one girl missing but you weren’t too worried, the seating arrangements weren’t mandatory, it just tended to happen on the first night of camp.

“You didn’t mess up but you are bloody annoying,” You hissed before switching on your smile as you sat down next to your campers, shooing James away to do the same. He gave a two-fingered salute and turned on his heel, you couldn’t tell if the action was sarcastic or not.

The night played on, featuring sing-alongs to 2000s classics and performances from some of the musically inclined counselors. You were even treated to a comedy set by a few fourteen-year-olds (dumb jokes that you all laughed at anyway — you were just glad they were all clean as you’d reiterated at least six times).

From behind you, you felt a tug on your shirt. A camper was leaning over to you from his seat, eyes glancing all over the place.

“There’s a girl crying near the toilets,” He said.

“What? Who? Why?” You couldn’t help the questions tumbling from your mouth. The boy shrugged.

“Dunno. She had purple glasses. Dunno.” God, sometimes you just loved kids and how insightful they could be. You did, however, know who he was talking about. Your missing camper, it was her first night at camp and so you had an inkling of why she might be crying. You thanked the boy for letting you know and climbed out of the bench seat, weaving past campers and counselors alike.

You were preparing your best soothing methods when you approached the toilet block only to find your camper wasn’t alone. Or crying very much at all. Instead, she was wiping the tears off her cheeks as she giggled at whatever James Potter was telling her, curled up next to her against the wood-panelled wall.

You stopped in your tracks to observe the pair. James’ glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose slightly, but he made no move to fix it as he gestured wildly, clearly telling some ridiculous, exaggerated story of camps gone by. Below his natural aptitude for entertaining, though, was something softer. The way he’d glance at the girl, Gracie, between every sentence to gauge her changing mood. The comforting pat to her knee or shoulder when she made a reply or sniffled.

You’d seen James as a counselor before, obviously. You’d both been in camp since you were around eight years old and had progressed at about the same rate; becoming general counselors the same year and then moving up to head counselor. So you knew at some level that James was theoretically mature and responsible and good with kids. Not that the ‘good with kids’ part was necessarily in doubt before — everyone at camp certifiably adored him, but you thought that was because he was loud and interesting and funny. Now you could see that it was because he was soft. James Potter was warm, sunlight on a lazy afternoon, he was affectionate and he cared. That’s why everyone loved him. Though the loud, funny and interesting thing certainly helped his case.

You began to feel like a bit of a creep just watching them and approached, coughing to make your presence known before sitting down in front of the two, not caring about how your denim cutoffs would have dirt on them when you stood up. James looked up with wide eyes and it almost seemed like he was glad to see you, though that didn’t make much sense.

“What’s going on here?”

“Gracie’s feeling a bit homesick, she’s never been away from home before,” James explained for you, still rubbing a comforting hand up her arm. You figured that was the case. Gracie was eleven, still just a baby.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked her, “I’m your cabin leader.” Gracie hesitated then looked up at James.

“She’s a little afraid of you,” He stage whispered and your mouth dropped open.

“Me? I’m not scary, am I?” You played for the crowd, exaggerating your gestures to appear less threatening and accusatory. Clearly, the two had had more of a heart-to-heart than you initially thought as James answered for her once again.

“You have to admit you’re a bit intimidating, love. You command attention, you’re scarily organised and you’re a little bossy.” He trailed off into a joking tone and you rolled your eyes.

“Firstly, don’t call me ‘love’, Potter, it’s unprofessional. Secondly… I guess you have a point — not about me being bossy though. I’m not bossy.” You directed the last sentence at Gracie at the same time that James teased you for ‘being delusional’. Gracie giggled though, the last of her tears drying up. You caught James’ eye for a fraction of a second, just enough to convey the agreement that whatever you were doing was working.

“What can I do to make you less afraid of me?” You asked her and James answered once more.

“I’m already on it, actually. I was just telling Gracie here about the time you tried the obstacle course four years ago.” You groaned dramatically, covering your face in very real embarrassment.

“You are so terrible,” You whined, “That was honestly my most humiliating camp moment. I was so cocky and had the most over-the-top trash-talk known to man, then wiped out on the first obstacle.” You couldn’t help but join in with James’ laughter, and Gracie wasn’t far behind, girlish giggles far higher in pitch than yours or James’.

“Really?” She asked when she could catch a breath.

“Really,” You affirmed, “It was a total wipeout too, I went sliding right through the mud and was covered head to toe in front of the whole camp. I couldn’t get the mud out of my hair for days! I’m sure James still has some of the photos hidden away somewhere. I definitely learnt my lesson about getting too arrogant that day.”

“I definitely do,” James agreed, sticking his tongue out when you made an offended face.

“Will we get to do the obstacle course this summer?” Gracie asked, boundless enthusiasm growing in her eyes.

“Absolutely we will! Maybe we’ll even get this one to participate again.” James cocked his head in your direction.

“No, no, no. I swore on that day I would never embarrass myself like that again,” You hid behind a laugh, not wanting to admit how much the incident haunted you.

“Please, you have to!” Gracie all but squealed, clapping excitedly. You pretended to consider it for a moment, then gave your most diplomatic answer.

“Maybe. It’ll take some serious convincing though.”

When you were sure Gracie was thoroughly convinced you ushered the three of you back in the direction of the amphitheatre. Gracie ran ahead, becoming eager to rejoin the camp traditions that you and James had successfully talked up. You and James dawdled behind, not quite so pressured to return to the event you’d experienced so many times.

James threw an arm around your shoulder, forcing you to adopt his step pattern.

“We make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” He asked, just a hint too cocksure for your liking.

“You wish, Potter,” You stuck your tongue out childishly. After a beat of silence, you softened, “You did good today. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Was that a compliment?” He asked, smile growing wide across his face. You almost felt the need to cover your eyes, the blinding shine illuminating the dirt path ahead of you.

“Yeah, don’t get used to them,” You grumbled, trying to pull away but James just held on to you tighter, practically pushing his weight onto you as you tried to keep your path straight.

“You’re warming up to me,” He sang. You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might fall out. Not wanting to lead the conversation to any sappy territory you changed the subject.

“Did you really have to tell her about the obstacle course?”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind, not really. Did you want me to tell her about the first time we all got drunk instead?” You shook your head violently fast, the memory bringing colour to your cheeks even years later.

“Alright, moment over!” You ducked away from his hold on you, conveniently in time for you both to approach the amphitheatre and presumptuous eyes again. James followed a few steps behind, a dumb grin on his face you didn’t catch.

“So there was a moment?” He called, just quiet enough that it didn’t attract attention from the campers. You stopped to turn back to him, making sure he could see you rolling your eyes. Yet, you reluctantly returned the handshake he initiated — a dumb, overly intricate routine you made up in the rare instances he wasn’t completely annoying or making fun of you when you were both twelve — a silent agreement that you’d done something good together, a suggestion that maybe working with him wouldn’t be as infuriating as you assumed.

“Already falling for James?” Lily asked that night, safe in her corner of the cabin. If it didn’t require getting out from under the cozy covers you would have hit her.

“The fuck are you talking about, Evans?” You snapped with no ferocity, pulling small laughs from the other girls in the room.

“We saw you returning from a suspicious time out in the woods. What heinous acts are you two committing in there?” Marlene added with a teasing lilt. You wished they could see you rolling your eyes.

“For your information, we were comforting one of my girls. She just ran ahead and you know I don’t do running in the dark.”

“And yet, you didn’t look like you hated Potter with the heat of a thousand suns?”

“He did a good job, it’s whatever. He’s softer than I am.”

“Until now because you’re falling for him and you’re gonna be in love by the end of the summer,” Dorcas sang gleefully. You protested loudly before giving up, three against one too much for you to handle at that time of night. You punctuated the end of the conversation with a decisive flip to face the wall, bringing your blanket with you. You ignored the lingering giggles in favour of sleep, apparently the only place you could avoid talk of James Potter.

[the-crimson]

I have so many thoughts on the vote today because there are so many layers. All talk about the characters not the creators obviously :D

First off, I’m wanna say that Forever is literally doing his best XD he is trying to give the islanders say in the mods/rules etc and wanted this to be a silly test run just to wet everyone’s feet with the concept. There is no way he could have prepared or predicted how it would turn out.

Now, from Bad’s pov, it is very important that he started criticizing the way the vote was set up before people started voting. The only reason he got so angry is because no one was taking him seriously and so many people chose to punish him specifically for something harmless ie stealing furniture instead of removing an item that is a danger to the eggs and is 10x more destructive towards peoples builds. Yea replacing furniture is annoying but not nearly as annoying as having to replace roads constantly or rebuilding parts of ur base. The school was literally just destroyed due to mines and yet everyone is complaining about their furniture.

Then, on top of all these people - who Bad has given items to without question and dropped everything for to help in the past - dog piling on him, Roier gets to vote three times. This is what pushed Bad over the edge because at that point, this wasn’t a democracy anymore. Roier was literally rigging the votes in his favor.

The reason Forever’s current system is flawed is because you give the voters 5 options to give them the illusion of choice but if all the options are bad and they can’t choose to vote for these things to not happen, then they don’t actually have a choice. They are being complicit in their own oppression. Bad’s example was extreme but it gets the point across.

Does Bad blow up Cellbit’s base or Forever’s base? He’s giving you a choice so it’s democratic. It’s an extreme example but this is a method of slowly poisoning the people so they are complicit. If you give them four options that are obviously bad so everyone votes for the fifth then that wasn’t democracy. That was the illusion of choice.

That is a terrible system! I trust forever not to abuse it but Forever is a puppet for the federation! Do you know how easily they could manipulate this voting system? Very. Very easily.

So, going into Bad and Forever’s conversation, Bad was already flabbergasted at how bad this voting system was in addition to blatant voter fraud and the pain of a bunch of his friends betraying him. Bad is a powder keg ready to explode.

Forever comes over and they try to talk it out at first but it quickly becomes evident that neither of them are listening. Forever thinks Bad is upset because of the furniture thing and that’s why he’s against the voting system but that’s not the case! These two have completely different methods of approaching a council/democratic system and neither is willing to listen. Once Forever brought up meta reasons for shooting down Bad’s ideas, the conversation was effectively over.

And what I think people forget is that Bad has been an anarchist since day one. The only reason he ran for President was so he could dismantle the office aka so there wouldn’t be a President. He is willing to work with forever to try and make it work but Bad is constantly fighting his desire to dismantle it entirely - and that has nothing to do with Forever.

I see a lot of people taking it personally and acting like Bad has a grudge against Forever but that isn’t the case. He doesn’t want a president. The fact Bad hasn’t demolished the fed presidential office is a testament to his and Forever’s relationship. Bad knows and is trusting Forever that he is doing his genuine best for the people… the problem is is that Forever is a federation puppet whether he likes it or not.

The QSMP made the no stealing furniture law an actual law against Forever’s wishes and behind his back. My guess is they wanted to drive a wedge between Forever and Bad, a known anarchist and #1 federation hater. That’s why they made it law even though Forever thinks it’s still a joke.

Bad was the only one taking this vote seriously and actually thinking about the consequences because - on one hand - he was literally the only person who would be directly negatively impacted by this vote - and on the other hand - he wants what is best for the island as well and he immediately saw how this voting system could very easily be turned into a method of oppression by the federation. Unfortunately, no one else approached it with the same level of seriousness and when Forever talked with Bad, Forever was primed to assume Bad’s grievances were because he was being punished. They were set up to fail and the feds took advantage of that by making the law a Law.

Tomorrow(or whenever they meet next), after they both have time to cool off and gather their thoughts, they might be able to talk it out. This is communication smp after all. But there is no right answer here. This is politics and in politics, you will never make everyone happy.

People in the fandom are always gonna hate but if both Forever and Bad decide to go on opposed villain arcs, I will be sitting on the side lines munching popcorn and having a blast. They both deserve to go ape shit and I, for one, am looking forwards to the drama ;D

Just stay off Twitter maybe cuz everyone over there is insane…

[signed-sapphire]

The Fallen Star ✨

A Wish rewrite

Asha redesign 💜

Hehe hi Anny sorry I’m basically stealing your reimagining format… let me know if you want me to change it

Anyways hi! Inspired by so many amazing Wish reimaginers (yes that’s a word shut up), mainly @gracebethartacc/@gracebeth3604 and the aforementioned @annymation, I decided to post my own rewrite! This being the character details.

Now, unlike the prior AU Ashas, my Asha acts less like a Cinderella and more of a… Kusco. If you catch my drift.

But don’t worry! Our girl is going to go through some major character development!

But first… let’s get to meet her!

(Ignore the shit quality this is the only art I have of her atm since I don’t have my ipad with me… will update with better photos later)

Princess Asha Arabella Arman is the heir to the throne of Rosas, the kingdom of wishes

It was founded by none other than her adopted father, Magnus Arman

She was raised by Magnus and Amaya for the past 8 years, and has been coddled quite a bit

All three of the Armans lost their homes to to the evil Stars, so Asha is against everything to do with Star magic

Just like the movie, Asha is 17 years old, and can’t wait until she turns 18 and can wish to become a great magician like her papa

No matter how hard she tries, wish magic doesn’t work for Asha, something she finds extremely frustrating

When this happens, she has a tendency to lash out and snap at people

Many servants have been fired for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they understand

At least, the older generation does

Stars destroyed their homelands with their greedy magic, and Asha just wants to be as great as her parents

Though… they do think she could be nicer about it

Asha’s parents are always quick to come to her rescue and smooth things out after her temper blows up, rehiring staff and gently reprimanding Asha

They’re not the best parents but like they adopted her when she was 9, they don’t know how to deal with kids

Still, they love Asha as their own

Gonna get more into the king and queen of Rosas in part ii, back to Asha!

Becaude her parents are such great heroes, Asha feels very strongly that the citizens of Rosas should be treating them as if they are the most grand royalty ever

And as their daughter, she should be awarded some of the same privileges

Except none of the teenagers her age seem to like hanging around her, always calling her snobby and self-centered

Excuse me? She was not self centered! Asha just believed her kingdom deserved the best, and their rulers even better! Obviously!

Personality traits

Stubborn

Loyal (to those she deems worthy)

Spoiled

A bit naïve

Insecure but covers it up with WAY too much confidence

Bad liar. Will be important later on.

^But SUPER good at pulling out her “I’m your princess I’m better than the air you breathe” face when needed

Never seems to take her duties seriously… think Rise!Leo if you can

Backstory

So my rewrite’s epilogue is posted already, but imma put her angst here too anyways~

Stars used to help people fulfill their own wishes, until one day they got lazy and started simply granting them instead

This method messed with the system and drove the Stars crazy, mad with power, and they started destroying kingdoms to get more magic

Little Asha’s village was unfortunately one of the victims

Sakina and Tomás barely had time to react before the glowing streaks of light crashed through their roof

Screams echoed through the chaos, and giant hands made of twilight ink scooped up villagers

Tomás and Sakina grabbed their little girl and huddled over her protectively as another blast of scorching light exploded through their roof

When the dust settled, and the harsh glow had faded away, there was only one sound left in the village

The sobbing of a 9-year-old girl, crying and begging for her parents to wake up

That’s when Magnus came across Asha, and took her under his wing

He could fight away Stars, so Asha stuck with him

It took a WHILE for her to learn that Magnus wasn’t going to harm her, but hey, Magnus had her back through it all

After he and Amaya founded Rosas, Asha was reassured that she would never have to see a Star destroy everything she loved ever. Again.

Oh, Asha, if only you weren’t the protagonist of your story

Design

BEFORE I DO ANYTHING I WANT TO GIVE A HUGE SHOUTOUT TO @mythartist21 BECAUSE THEY DESIGNED BASICALLY THE WHOLE LOOK FOR ASHA AND CIELO GIVE THEM A ROUND OF APPLAUSE AND GO CHECK THEM OUT

*Ahem* So I did a bit of a deep dive into Asha’s design in the “pilot” over here BUT for her fully updated design today, notes below (a lot of it copy-pasted from here)

Asha’s concept art was inspired by Moroccan and Amazigh fashion, so @mythartist21 added a bunch of inspiration from that in her design

Our girl has her hair accessories back!

I gave her fuller lips and a longer nose bc we only had Jasmine for the nose rep in Disney Princesses, and she’s Afro-Hispanic! Show off her black features!

I also darkened her skin bc… I get that people from North Africa can have lighter skin, heck, Pepa from Encanto showed good rep for the lighter skinned Colombians! But like… we only have one other black princess. Let’s show off that skin color diversity

She also has wider shoulders, a bigger chest, neck, and waist, bc she’s not white but also WOMEN WITH MUSCLES>>>

Asha isn’t super jacked but she does have muscle defining and I want to write in a scene where she has no sleeves on so we can appreciate her arms

RatLD had Namaari’s back and my bisexual ass needs some more women to simp for

Eyeshadow as a reference to Elsa but also I felt she needed some color on her face. Miiiight change it later on when I add in her hair beads but for now she has eyeshadow

Gonna keep the many Rosas symbols bc she’s the princess of the kingdom, what do you expect?

Also she just looks older in general (even though she’s still seventeen like canon!Asha) which I think lends itself to her royal status idk

+ technically more realistic proportions which ig can be a callback to the times when animators did rotoscoping?

Dimples. Bc they’re fantastic

I TRIED to draw Asha with her fine braids, but people were complaining that canon!Asha looked too much like Isabella Madrigal, and with TFS!Asha having darker skin + longer nose structure + more haughty personality? Yeah, I gave Asha back some body in her hair

Idk I tried to make them look like the braids from this concept art ⬆️ (imagine they’re like this… I did the art at like 3am okay)

I HC that Asha’s canon outfit is her younger self’s outfit, down to the detailed braids done lovingly by Sakina

But after the incident with the stars…

Let’s just say Amaya tries her best, and Asha appreciates it

I also finally modeled our girl a crown! Based off of Amaya’s weird ass canon one, and the tiara look of the early Disney Princesses

Gotta make one for Maggie too…

[the-travelling-witch]

i originally wrote this when gushing to someone about my love for keishin but i thought i might as well post it here now that it's already been brought into existence

We can all agree that Ukai Keishin is the best coach Karasuno could have asked for and in this essay I will rekindle my undying love for him by rambling about why that is.

First of all Ukai “I���m not interested in being a coach” Keishin adapted the time of his shifts at the store as well as woke up at the asscrack of dawn to help on his family’s farm, so he could coach these kids, which we see is quite exhausting for him as Takeda (our hero) asks him about it. It’s pretty easy to assume that you would not go to that length if you did not care about these students. 

Keishin also got the Neighbourhood Association on board, initially as practice partners but indirectly introducing some very loyal supporters to the team (seriously these guys watch every match, even if they have to rush to the gym from their jobs), as well as opportunities to learn something new (think Yamaguchi’s float serve).

As a very young coach, Keishin might not be the most experienced at teaching but he makes up for it easily by being able to relate to his players, putting himself in their shoes and acknowledging that not every practice method works for everyone. We also see that the players don’t hesitate to approach him, like Hinata does during the Shiratorizawa training camp. When he calls his coach -well outside of practice hours mind you- Ukai firstly does not reprimand him for it but also gladly helps Hinata with the questions he has around building a balanced diet, since he knows it will help his players grow.

Sure, being able to empathise with the students is not always a good thing as a coach, as we see when he hesitated between choosing Kageyama or Suga for the setter position in season 1, projecting his own feelings onto Suga. But after Suga approaches him, he listens to what he has to say and compliments him for making such a tough decision.

Similarly, when Hinata first brought up the idea of changing up the quick, Ukai was against it too, but after listening to Hinata felt, he decided to trust in his players and try a few different practice methods, even going so far as to separate the two and introduce Hinata to his grandpa. I don’t think any coach would have taken the risk of changing up a useful attack if it wasn’t clear that whatever they’d practise for would pay off.

The summer training camp is a good example for the healthy mindset Keishin tries to impart on his students. Over the course of the whole show, he shows that learning and growing means more to him than winning. Mistakes, failures and losses are all part of the progress to him as long as you can take something away from them for the future. I don’t think Karasuno would have picked themselves up as well or as fast from the Aoba Johsai loss in season 1 if they didn’t have Coach Ukai.I also really love his mentality around food and that you need to eat plenty of good stuff to replenish your energy and give your body the fuel it needs. Also treats his teams to meals regardless of the outcome of a match.

Overall, Keishin is much more encouraging rather than reprimanding. He will obviously tell them off when they mess up, it’s not like he coddles the kids, but he always makes sure to compliment them or nudge them in the right direction. Sure, he lets Hinata know that breaking into the Shiratorizawa camp was a reckless idea but also tips him off on how he can capitalise off the opportunity. Another great moment happens after Kageyama comes back from Youth camp and a fight breaks out as he returns to being the egocentric king for a moment. Takeda asks if they should step in but Ukai tells him that it’s necessary for them to communicate and sort out themselves. Knowing not to step in at that moment leads to Kageyama learning a lesson without which I don’t think they could have won against Inarizaki (and which would have left him lacking in the grand scheme of professional volleyball later on, I suppose).

Also, side note, despite the bleached hair and him saying he never was a model student to Hinata, we see him take out his piercings while he’s coaching and also see that he went back to his natural hair colour post timeskip (plus he still coaches Karasuno then, he clearly loves this job). Sure you could say he takes them out for safety reasons but I’m not sure he’d be the type to care much for that (I know I’ve never taken out or taped over my piercings) but even so, look at him being a good role model. (Not saying piercings and bleached hair are bad, I love them…. But sOcIeTy /lh)

There are of course many more great scenes I could get into for Keishin (since every scene he’s in is great) but I think these are like the major aspects that make me love him so much. We see that he goes to great lengths to support his students, be it through advice, getting video recordings of opponents and analysing them or working out the best practice strategies together with his students. Yes he’s new to being a coach but together with Takeda, I don’t know if Karasuno could have had a coach which fits in better with them than Ukai Keishin.

[sarcasticscribbles]

MAG 022 Sasha the Archivist AU

(Statement of Timothy Stoker, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding a close encounter with something he believes to have once been Jane Prentiss). Context (role switching)

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST Tim, are you sure?

TIM I want to make a statement, something happened, and I don’t know- I mean, it’s what we do, right? 

ARCHIVIST Not really, we research statements. Then we archive them. We don’t make them. 

TIM Fine, fine, but I need to tell someone what happened and you- or this, is the best I got. 

ARCHIVIST Tim. 

TIM Just, hear me out, okay? And then, you can either toss it aside or dismiss it, like you usually do with everything I say.

ARCHIVIST I don’t do that. 

TIM It doesn’t need to be an official statement, I just need it off my chest, please, Sasha. 

ARCHIVIST  …  Are you okay?

TIM I don’t know. 

ARCHIVIST … Tell me what happened. Statement of Timothy Stoker, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…

TIM A real encounter with what I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.

ARCHIVIST Recorded direct from subject, 12th March, 2016.

Statement begins.

TIM Well, a while ago, a few weeks, you were looking into that statement about the spider that wouldn’t go away. Carlos Vittery, the haunted spider statement. Something about it didn’t sit right with me, the whole web death, that doesn’t happen. No other recorded cases of spiders spinning their web around human corpses in England. I asked Martin about it, he loved Spider’s- a little too much if you ask me. Remember the lecture he gave when you smashed that big one in the library –

ARCHIVIST Stick to the statement, Tim.

TIM Right.  Right, yes. You asked me to find anything I could about Mr. Vittery, and when my usual methods ended up empty-handed, I.. I decided to check out his flat in Boothby Road. It wasn’t too far of a trip, I know the Institute won’t cover it. That’s not why I’m doing it, I’m not looking for Institute funds any more. I found the building, early morning, and it looks just like Mr. Vittery described in his statement. It’s locked, obviously, I can’t get in and no one answered the buzzers. I had already got this far and I didn’t want to come back with nothing to you – because I know what that entails, so I started looking around. I found a basement window that slightly ajar. It isn’t much, but I’m pretty sure I can get through if I can open it. 

[...]

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends. And you’re sure, about this, Tim?

TIM I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about something like this.  I know you take your job seriously, I wouldn’t want to waste your time. 

ARCHIVIST I didn’t say you did. 

TIM No but… I would only do this if it happened.

ARCHIVIST I suppose. Tim, I- 

There’s a room in the Archives, I’ve used it before when I’ve worked late. You can stay there for now, if you want, it’s not too bad. I’ll talk to Geuturde and maybe have her look into some extra security. The Archives have enough lock to make you feel safe, and the windows should be properly sealed.

TIM [Confused & flustered]  Oh. Okay… Yeah, thanks. I honestly didn’t expect you to… Believe me.

ARCHIVIST I thought you said you lost your phone two weeks ago?

TIM Yeah, something like that, when I went back to the basement. 

ARCHIVIST Yeah. I have received several text messages from your phone, claiming you’re still ill with a stomach bug… Last one said you thought it “might be a parasite”. I tried calling you and you never picked up. So, if this does involve Jane Prentiss, then I take it very seri–

[PHONE BUZZES] Wait

TIM What?

ARCHIVIST Another text from you. “Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.”

TIM Excuse me? 

ARCHIVIST It means I’ll ask Gertrude to hire some extra security. I’ll tell Jon and Martin too. I’ll check through the Archives, as I think we have a statement from Ms. Prentiss herself in here somewhere.

Recording ends.

[CLICK]

[feathered-serpents]

So. In both God of War games Atreus/Freya are coded to follow the player right? In any game with companions the companion is obviously basically glued to the player and in a lot of games (Dragon Age for example) the companions will interact with the environment as best they can, climb letters, jump over stuff, etc but if the player gets to far away they will just teleport to their location so you don’t lose a companion

In God of War this doesn’t happen. Atreus/Kratos always follow you by naturally interacting with the environment. If you climb they climb, if you jump they jump, they never teleport. That’s because God of War’s AI is so good there’s almost never a need to, they’re really good at not getting stuck or left behind

But

Sometimes. It still bugs out. and the results. Are incredibly funny

I’ve had this happen to me twice, once in the first game, once in the second game. Both only with Atreus, never lost Freya which tracks honestly

In the first game I lost Atreus in Ivaldi’s Workshop and if you don’t know what that is because you don’t play GOW but still read the posts I make about it (I love you) Ivaldi’s workshop is an ever changing labyrinth filled with saw-style booby traps consisting of death propellers or 20 foot saw blades or classic “just fucking squish’em” the ceiling falls down traps AS WELL AS thick ass fog that makes it so you can’t fucking see and also it’s POISONOUS so if you stand in it for too long you straight up die and I have lost my kid in it

And suddenly I went from playing God of War to playing a “Lost my kid in the mall” simulator except the mall is a death trap filled with toxic fumes and ever changing walls aka any suburban mall. I am walking down all these halls trying to find this dumbass and the only thing I have to go on is sometimes I can hear his voice distantly through the mist. Far away. He’ll just say something and I’ll walk in that direction and he won’t be there. It was hell. It literally sounds like Kratos’ hell. I never found him I had to reset the checkpoint

The second time I’ve already talked about but it was awhile ago and it’s still one of the funniest things that ever happened to me in a game so I’m talking about it again.

I was doing Surtr’s trials and was getting to the last six (?) trials at the very end. If you’ve done these, you know if you do all of them in one go rather than leaving and coming back you get REALLY methodical at it. Arena one, arena two, main arena. Arena one, arena two, main arena. Again and again and again

The thing is, at the start of each of these fights the arena gates slam shut. Which makes sense since it’s supposed to be an arena. Arenas have gates and they’re usually shut. Well. I managed to move from arena two to the main arena so quickly that Atreus didn’t have time to get out of the first arena and got locked in behind the gate

I didn’t even REALIZE he wasn’t there until I tried firing arrows and nothing happened. Finally I turned around and I couldn’t see him. Then I heard a tiny, distant “Watch out father!” And got cleaved in half by a draugr. I would’ve had to restart either way several enemies you NEED Atreus with you to beat and he was in JAIL

Just the image of Atreus on his toes, locked in another arena with his face pressed against the bars screaming at the top of his lungs “FATHER!! BEHIND YOU!! HE’S BEHIND YOU!!!!!” Is the funniest thing in the world

This absolutely actually happened in my mind. Atreus thinks both are funny now, Kratos does not

[cloudcountry]

because you would do the same

Genre/Tropes: You already knoooow it's hurt/comfort!!! Panic attacks!!! The whole shebang!!!!!

Summary: You're having a panic attack in the school bathroom, and Ortho finds you. Good thing Idia installed all that helpful medical software, huh?

Author's Comments: Hello this is my anxiety disorders having ass writing about panic attacks again!! There's a lot of self deprecation happening here so be warned if that could make you uncomfortable. Also descriptions of panic attacks obviously AJSHDJAS I tried my best to put the feeling into words. THIS IS PLATONIC.

~~~~~

Everyone knows that the ideal place to have a panic attack would be the bathroom. It’s usually pretty empty during classes, and there was no way anyone could see you when the stalls were blocking their view. Your only concern was what the people on campus with sensitive hearing would pick up, but since the classrooms were farther down the hall, that shouldn’t be an issue.

However, you failed to account for the singular robot wandering around campus.

“Hello? Prefect?” Ortho chirped, the bathroom door slamming shut behind him with a dramatic thud, “Is everything alright?”

You immediately silenced your hyperventilating as best you could, curling in on yourself. Your eyes were wide as you watched the stall door nervously, praying he’d give up and leave you alone. As he shuffled around just a little ways away from you, you realized that no, he wasn’t just going to leave because you didn’t respond. Ortho was always dead set on helping people, so all you could do to not burden someone with your problems was to clenched your eyes shut and wished for him to go away even harder.

“Prefect, your heart rate is abnormally high. You’re exhibiting higher respiration rates and shortness of breath. My systems are telling me you’re either in a panicked state or you’ve done some intense exercise.” Ortho mused, “If anything is wrong, you should tell me! I want to use my various medical functions to help you!”

Great Seven, you felt like throwing up. There was too much going on in your head and Ortho’s voice was only stabbing at what was left of your mental stability. You knew he only wanted to help, but there was literally nothing he could do when it was hot under your skin and your brain felt like it was getting doused in icy water and your stomach was seizing and cramping with every breath you took. You rubbed anxiously at your thighs, chest heaving with each repressed, shuddering breath you let out.

“Prefect, it really doesn’t sound like you’re doing well! Are you perhaps too weak to open the door?” Ortho asked, “Commencing door breakdown program!”

“Please don’t.” you choked out, “Please, please don’t.”

“Hm, would you like me to try a different method?” he hummed thoughtfully, “I can start a breathing exercise program, or I can take the door off of it’s hinges instead of shooting my laser-”

“Please just leave me alone.” you begged, “I just want to be alone.”

A moment of silence.

“I can’t do that. Your vitals are still irregular.” he mused, a loud clunking sound from the other side of the door only worsening your unease, “I’m obligated to help those who show signs of distress. That’s what my brother programmed me to do!”

You could feel your breath speeding up again as the sound of a drill filled the bathroom. Ortho wasn’t kidding - he was actually unscrewing the door. Panicked, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands and dabbed at your eyes. Man, why did everyone in NRC have to butt their noses into other people’s business? Ortho was sweet, but you really just wanted to be alone right now. It wasn’t that hard to understand.

The door tilted towards you as the last screw was released, and you jerked back as it began to fall onto you. A small robotic hand caught the edges of it, pulling it back and turning it towards the sinks. A cheerful Ortho set the door down on the ground with another loud thud, his hovering replacing the irritating drilling noises with a gentle white noise.

“Now, what’s wrong? I can help you!” he chirped, zipping over to you with wide eyes and hands clasped in front of him.

You said nothing, ducking your head in hopes that he would just give up. With your red eyes and dry mouth and heaving chest, he’d be able to pick up every single visual cue that you’d been struggling with. Weak, weak, weak.

“Your eyes seem red! Were you crying?” Ortho hummed as he stalled for a moment, which you could only assume was him gathering information, “The inflection in your voice indicates that you are emotionally distressed. Were you having a panic attack?”

You shook your head frantically, lips screwed shut. The sharp pain of nails digging into your thighs was the only thing keeping your swirling whirlwind of thoughts from causing another round of hyperventilating. The soft whirring of Ortho’s hardware felt like incessant screeching in your ears as you tried to gulp in air.

Weak, weak, weak!

“You’re not weak!” Ortho insisted, as if he could read your mind (and man, you hoped he couldn’t), “You’re really strong! Can you count with me, Prefect? Do you think you can do that?”

Can’t even handle a panic attack by yourself! No wonder you were so useless!

“In…out! In…out!”

Twisted Wonderland would be better off without you, you were only here because there was no place with you back in your world. Nobody here needed you either. EVer since you came people have been Overblotting time and time again. It’s all your fault. You don’t even have magic…how long were you going to spend dragging Ace and Deuce into your messes? What about Grim? He would be better off on his own-

“Prefect?”

Great Seven, you couldn’t be more useless. There was nothing you could do right. Nothing. You ended up worrying Ortho too, and now he’s distracted trying to help you. Get up. Get up!

“It’s fine, Ortho. I’m sure you have better things to take care of right now. I’ll be okay.”

Except you couldn’t speak through your sobs.

Useless.

A cold breeze brushed against your warm, tear striped face. For a moment, your brain felt like it’d been dumped in cold water as your breath stuttered.

“Please take a second to cool off! Drink some water, too! We can try breathing again in a minute.” Ortho smiled, pushing a plastic water bottle into your lap, “Please drink. It doesn’t have to be a lot.”

You hiccupped as you brought your hands to the water bottle, fingers shaking like leaves in a hurricane. The breeze you felt was actually a fan Ortho had produced from his arm, a function that would have made you laugh in any other circumstance. Ortho said nothing as you unscrewed the cap (it seemed like Ortho had already opened it for you, the saint) and drank. The water felt like sludge as it slid down your dry throat. Your brain still felt all hot and prickly, but your breathing had calmed down just a bit.

“Good job! Do you think you can breathe with me now!” Ortho cheered, eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled.

Why was he so proud of you? You couldn’t even do the bare minimum.

“Ready? In…out! In…out!” he chanted, coaxing you to keep breathing with gentle head rubs. “That’s it! Good job!”

Your brow furrowed at the praise, a sinking feeling in your gut building with each kind word. You shouldn’t be getting praise for doing the bare minimum. What you were doing wasn’t impressive at all.

“You’re working through the panic really well, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, “Just keep breathing like that. Do you think you could point out one object of each of the six colors of the rainbow in this room for me?”

Of course he would have more coping mechanisms.

‘You’re…blue.” you choked out, staring down at the floor, “Um…my socks are red, the soap dispenser has orange soap, the…door is green, my bag has a purple pencil in the side pocket, and…your eyes are yellow.”

“You’re right! How do you think you’re feeling right now?” Ortho tilted his head downward, trying to catch your eye, “Your heart rate seems to be gradually slowing to a normal rate.”

“Um…I’m sorry for taking up your time.” you apologized, fingers wrapping tighter around the bottle, “I didn’t mean to distract you from whatever you were doing. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize! As long as you feel better, that’s all I need!” Ortho chirped, dropping a small hard candy in your lap, “I hope your day gets better, Prefect! Please tell me if you need anything.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” you mumbled, guilt crushing you like a brick.

“Prefect…you would do the same for me and my brother.” Ortho patted you on the head again, and it was only when he started massaging your scalp that you noticed the absence of the cool air being blown your way, “So don’t sweat it. I know you think it’s different when it's you, but it's not. I promise! You deserve a safe space just as much as the next person, magic or not.”

You could feel tears bubbling up in your eyes again as you nodded, far too touched to say anything else.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 43

Chapter 43: “81194”

I never really paid too much attention to the chapter titles until I started doing this, so naturally I was unaware one title was simply Ray’s farm identifier. Yeah I noticed the titles when I first read the manga and when new chapters released way back, but I obviously don’t remember any of them now! I have a hard enough time trying to remember the id’s of the other GF kids. (honestly, I dunno any of them aside from the fullscore trio and Isabella’s).

One of the big reasons why this scene feels so short in anime is, of course, the lack of internal dialogue. We even get a moment of hearing the pursuer’s thoughts later on too, as it tries to figure out if it cornered 16194 (Don) or 81194. Yet another loss because we don’t get to see how hard Ray is pushing his brain into overdrive trying to think of a way out of this mess.

The house didn’t have knives but it had a pair of scissors? Unless it’s also from the infirmary..? I know Krone mentioned the room had a scalpel (which the kids do still have as Ray used it to get water from the anemones two chapters ago) but I don’t remember anything about there being scissors anywhere. Eh, whatever.

My boy is so smart. With one less thing to worry about, he can now focus on his own survival. I love that cocky grin of his. He even seems proud that everyone else managed to stay safe so far.

Damn right you gotta to live! Your family needs you! Better yet, they truly want him in their lives as well! Aaahhh he’s so devoted to Emma & the others (as if he wasn’t for his entire life already) and I just love him so very much.

I am grateful that he was thinking ahead if the worst does happen, but the chances of any of the kids finding this small carved message on this exact tree is so darn slim. This forest is massive and they surely can’t waste any time backtracking with demons lurking.

Though Emma can still hear out of her left ear, we occasionally see her rely on her right a bit more, such as now when the kids react to the pursuer whistling to signal its allies. (She uses a similar method to both ears in ch100 and puts her right ear straight to the ground in ch67.)

Mhhhmm she believes in him so much aahh. Also, head pat! Though the anime changes Chris to Jemima here.

Her wound and all this anxiety certainly isn’t doing wonders for her health. Anndd yet another head pat. (I’m like..so tempted to make a whole post dedicated to all the head pats. maybe. eventually..if I remember.)

She was, indeed, not okay. And I know I shouldn’t be impressed that she lasted this long but.. I am. On top of all the blood loss and her whole body heating up, she’s been running for her damn life, while also keeping everyone else safe, and now she’s panicking that one of her best friends could potentially be captured and eaten.. that’s just a lot to handle at once. This girl has been suffering physically, mentally and emotionally for way longer than necessary.

Can’t deny the anime made the whole forest look real pretty though.

Favorite panel/moment:

When a moment is so good we get three variations of it! HELL YEAH! (goes without saying but the cover to volume 6 is one of my favorites).

End of volume 5.

[butch-kaz]

I hope that this ask is within the scope of what you're happy to answer. I saw a post you made a few years ago where you talked about some of your experiences with psychosis (you talked about someone thinking it was funny to lie to you and trigger you. I'm so sorry that happened to you!). I wondered if you'd be willing to talk a bit about things that help to ground you and what other people can do to help you feel supported around this?

A family member I love dearly has been experiencing psychosis for a number of years now, and even though she has a medical team that she trusts, I feel like there's been very little guidance for me in how to best support her. I've been figuring it out as I go, and I think I've done ok, but it's really hard for me to ask her these kinds of questions because her self awareness around her distorted beliefs is pretty low. Obviously what works for you might not help her but it might give me a perspective I hadn't considered.

I'm also a little curious about how you're able to "hold on to" the knowledge that you experience psychosis; my loved one often became upset when I tried to talk explicitly about her beliefs being disconnected from reality, and she rejected the part of her diagnosis that addressed her delusions. (I don't try to bring that up now, since it doesn't seem to be helpful. I only gently assert my own experiences and beliefs if she brings up ideas that conflict with them.) Please don't answer these questions if reflecting on it will be triggering for you, but if you can and would like to talk about it: What is it like for you to be aware that you can't always trust what you believe? Have there been times when you weren't aware, and if so, what was that like?

Again, I hope that I'm not out of line asking you about this. I want to understand what's going on for my loved one better, and there's so little information out there that centres the experiences of people who actually have psychosis.

hiya! thanks for the ask.

i definitely think my situation is wildly different from your loved one’s- over the years, with the right medications and treatments, my symptoms have very drastically changed. i don’t think I or the doctors who treated me can really say why, maybe some medication reactions or just a removal from the scary environment i lived in. these days i experience muted versions of my former psychotic breaks, like… instead of full blown hallucinations i feel phantom pains, that sort of thing. as for why i remember, idk! every1 is different.

all that explains why i am absolutely not qualified to help you. if your relative or her doctors haven’t told you anything they’d like you to do with regards to her care, just try to treat her like any other member of your family, be kind, don’t infantilize- those are general statements that can apply to any disabled person, and it sounds to me like you’re already doing them, so in my opinion you’re on the right track.

but to answer your questions:

i am grounded by textures. carpet on my bare back, raking my fingers through my hair, even some gentle pains like pinching my arms. i am grounded by distractions. folding laundry, doing dishes, methodical tasks that don’t require brain power but do require intentional movements. yoga is good for this.

i did not always trust my sense of reality, and sometimes i’m still unsure. i’m a stubborn bitch though and i’ll push my way through just about anything. once i worked an eight hour retail stint near christmas time and couldn’t stop seeing a traumatic event replaying out in front of me, but fake it til you make it! i talked to customers like it wasn’t even there.

holding onto reality is something very unique to every person, for me it felt like two realities were colliding and i had to discern which one was the right one. i was lucky that most of my delusions were made of the same shit, i could recognize the lighting/faces/details that were not regular and ignore everything else. it took time to develop that skill.

however, you’re never going to help anyone if you’re out here worrying and researching and killing yourself when you could be just sitting next to her. focus on putting one foot in front of the other and try to remember what makes her happy & healthy. remember to take care of yourself too. that’s the best you as a non-medical professional! i’m sending love your way.

[moscnios]

can I request some light nsfw hcs with nami, zoro, & sanji ( separately ) where gn!reader pampers their stressed lovers & bathes together with them? :3 & if it's not too much, can this also include pet name usage? ( I.e babe, baby, darling, love, etc ) tysm!

✸  headcanons  %  when you pamper them in the bath.

✸    characters! . . .  nami, zoro & sanji.

✸    cw(s)! . . .  light nsfw. mostly because they’re bathing, nothing really happening. no pronouns used. not proofread. minors dni.

✸    notes! . . .  i tried my best. they were not coming out right i don’t know what happened. tried to fit the pet names in, but that wasn’t working either. i am so sorry. but i hope these are okay. thank you for requesting !!

dealing with the straw hats’ shenanigans every day will definitely take a toll on a person. the amount of stress TRIPLES just by luffy alone

no wonder why nami is so stressed often, and you see it

which is why you decide to surprise her with a bath. not like your usual baths together, no, you went all the way, the whole shebang

the nice lightning, the candles, the oils and bath salts, the bath bomb accompanied by the flower petals, the relaxing meditation music, the matching face masks. it’s like heaven

nami has no problem with letting you take the reins and pamper her, she prefers it. she’d never pass up the chance to be spoiled by you

your touch is soothing to her. feeling the pads of your fingers massaging her shoulders. the feeling of your hands as you lather all over her body and wash away the soapsuds

all the while you’re saying how much you appreciate her, paired with a little teasing

zoro will never tell you when he’s stressed out. he wants to deal with it by himself, even if that means pushing you away

before you he never dealt with his stress in a healthy way. he mostly suppressed how he was feeling and just trained harder

now that you’re around, you’re slowly but surely teaching him to not be so hard on himself and ways to de-stress. bathing with you easily becomes his favorite method

is usually not a bubble bath kind of guy. but he’ll manage just this once

him in the bath, is one of the few times he lets up and isn’t so serious

he lowers his head to let you wash his hair. he could fall asleep peacefully as you scratch his scalp and wash away the suds

he nearly does fall asleep as you massage his sore muscles. you don’t know how he walks around with all these uncomfortable knots

he watches you closely, with nothing but love and admiration. if you notice and wink, he’ll look away blushing

sanji, like zoro, will not tell you when he’s stressed. he wants to be the man you can depend on whenever you need him. even if that means not talking about his own emotions

which you obviously hate and wish he would stop trying to be someone he’s not

when you suggest a bath together, he’s already over the moon. when you tell him you’re going to pamper him, he feels so loved but he wants to take care of you too.

he’ll feel bad for making you do everything unless you assure him that it’s okay and that you want to do this. even though he’ll still pout during your bath

a warm bubble bath, candles and a nice bath tray with two glasses of champagne and fruit for you to share is more than enough for him

by force of habit he’s trying to outdo you with all of his praises. it’ll be the two of you going back and forth on how much you love each other

© MANGEKYUOU.  

[biscuitblinkeu]

Best Solution [6]

Jennie Kim x Fem!reader

…………………………………………………………………………

You had days to think about it. It was the best solution. Well, maybe the best one you could come up with.

You would avoid going to The Willow to avoid suspicions from the Hunters. They're bound to check if they knew you went there.

It’s been almost a week since you’ve stopped going to the Willow. The last day you spent there you promised you would protect Mandu till Jennie found a man worthy. It seemed to be universal that you nor Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa, or Roseanne thought the Hunters were.

You don’t know what you’d do if they followed you and captured Mandu. You're afraid, because they don’t seem to be trying to take only the key anymore, they want to hurt the cat. Well, they’re determined to get the key even if it means the cat gets hurt in the process, and you don’t blame them…it’s crazy that they’ve just resorted to this method when this has been going on for a year.

And knowing that this has been going on for a year already, you ask yourself how Jennie deals with this. You would go insane.

The Hunters began making their rounds in the day and night now. It’s like they don’t rest. They watch you like vultures, and you can’t help but think something was up. So you’ve been cautious.

You’ve been taking a different route home and eating your lunch in the shop. Every time you crossed the bridge you would think of the feline. You imagined her sitting under the tree getting some rest.You hope she found something else to snack on for the time being. It’s cold outside too, did she keep warm? Did she return home at all?

You blew out a breath and watched the cloud of mist fade. You were pulling the cart up the slope today. You happened to like doing it more in the fall because you wouldn’t sweat buckets like you did in the summer. It also makes you warmer in the chilly weather.

You parked the cart near the supply shed. Then you began loading it with herbs and medicines, and packaged ceramics. You learned that Jisoo and Lisa didn’t sell flowers in the fall or winter, obviously because it was too cold and dry. They switch to growing herbs in the inside garden and turn that into medicine.

After you loaded the cart you covered it (in case leaves fell inside) and left it there, ready for you to deliver when it was time.

You walked inside the shop, the bell ringing as you opened the door. Immediately sighing at the warmth, once again relieved Roseanne got the heater working. Jisoo walked up to you with two mugs.

“Hot tea or coffee?” You took the tea.

“Thanks, you're a lifesaver chicken.” You sat down next to Lisa, both of you laughing at the way Jisoo’s face contorted at the nickname.

You looked around, “where’s Roseanne?”

“She down at Jason’s bakery buying us lunch.” Lisa answered before continuing to sketch in her notebook.

“Ah, okay… What’s that supposed to be? A dog?” You asked, looking at the doodles filling the page. Lisa looked offended.

“No! It’s clearly a moose.” You snorted, unable to figure out how that could possibly be a moose.

“Let me see.” Jisoo leaned over the counter and took the sketchbook from Lisa, who pouted in her seat. Jisoo simply handed the notebook back before turning around, you could see her shoulders shake. Not long after she bursted out laughing, causing Lisa to splutter.

She clearly wasn’t an artist. “You guys are so mean..”

“I’m sorry, it just doesn’t look like a..” Lisa glared at Jisoo.

“I mean it’s not bad at all, Lili, it just needs some antlers, you know, that moose’s have.” Jisoo couldn’t hide the amusement from her voice but Lisa seemed to buy it. She elbowed you in the side before going back to drawing.

“So (Y/n), I noticed you don’t go to The Willow anymore?” Jisoo spoke.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You’ve been staying in the shop to eat now.” Lisa was curious too.

“Well,” You started. “I’ve been feeling like I’m being watched by the Hunters. They’re never very far away either, it’s starting to creep me out. I can’t go to The Willow knowing that. What if they follow me and find Mandu? That’s her safe place.” You expressed your worries. Although you left out the part where they tried to make a deal with you.

“You have a good heart (Y/n).” You shrug.

-

It was quiet. Too quiet. You haven’t seen any Hunters since the morning. They weren’t on their patrols or hanging out in the Marketplace either. You had an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Especially since you hadn’t interacted with Mandu. Usually she would come and find you despite you shooing her away in case she’s spotted. But she hasn’t, not today.

You decided to walk around the village. Just to see what the Hunters are doing, maybe even find Mandu.

You saw other Hunters, but never did you see Kai and his groupies. It was only when you walked near the edge of the village boundaries , near the river that circled around the village you heard Mandu.

You scrambled down the path, and as you got closer you heard the sound of the river. Your heart pounded in your ears as you thought about the worst-case scenarios.

What if Mandu is drowning? Is she being attacked by wild animals?

You approached the river bed, freezing at the sound of voices. You hid behind a big rock and peeked over it.

Your heart falls to the bottom of your stomach at the sight. A group of Hunters surround the feline with nets and sharp tools. You spot their ringleader. Minho in all his glory stands in the middle, the ever so present smirk on his face.

You noticed Kai and Namjoon weren’t present, it was just Minho and some other men. They seemed to be working for Minho.

Mandu hissed at the men surrounding her. Minho holds a crossbow in his hand, as he laughs along with the men around him. He proceeds to reload the bow with another arrow. The arrow was coated with a thick dark colored liquid.

He aims, squaring his soldiers and lining up his feet. “I won’t miss again.” He whispers before firing, the arrow making a sharp whooshing sound.

Just like he said, he didn’t miss this time. The arrow hit Mandu right in the shoulder and she let out a pained yelp. You watch as Mandu stumbles back, the men surrounding her slowly closing in. They would grab her, she had nowhere left to go.

But no, having moved backward too far she eventually falls prey to the rushing current of the river behind her. It took everything in you not to reveal yourself and jump in to grab her. You dug your nails into your palms. You had to be patient. You couldn’t rush in like you normally do. You had to be level headed.

Mandu fought, her small legs kicked and thrashed against the current to keep herself afloat. She stayed strong for about fifteen seconds before she grew tired.

“Would you look at that boys! The poison’s already taking effect.” Minho whoops watching the cat's struggles get slower. He’ll have to compensate the man who sold him it.

Mandu’s head bobs under the water, returning to the surface slower each time. Her strangled mewls sound throughout the air as she fights the current.

They walk along the gravel trail next to the river for a while, following her. You sneak behind them.

“The poison has already spread. She’s just driftwood at this point, let’s catch her at the end of the river boys. It won’t be long.” Minho motions for them to follow and they leave.

You didn’t waste any time, as soon as they were out of sight you removed your sweater and dived in. Your feet didn’t even touch the bottom of the river.. The water temperature was a shock. Immediately after getting in you took in a strained breath. It was freezing. You couldn’t imagine what Mandu felt.

You swam with the current, which pushed you towards Mandu’s unmoving body faster. You could see the rivers drop making you kick faster.

Once you reached her you cradled her unmoving body in one arm, and began swimming with one arm. It was difficult, you swallowed water many times causing you to pause to cough it up. You were focused on keeping Mandu above the water.

Once you crawled out the water you quickly assessed the feline's situation. Her chest wasn’t rising at all and she was ice cold.

“No, no no! Wake up, wake up-” CPR- You can’t believe you're giving an animal out of all things CPR. You did twelve compressions on Mandu, and soon the water she swallowed was coughed up. Her eyes opened up a fraction and she let out a quiet meow before they closed again.

You didn’t know what to do.

So you ran as fast as you could to Chulichaeng’s shop.

Roseanne just watched her friends bicker. They surely were a match made in heaven.

“It’s cold! Put it on.” Lisa only shook her head, and if you ask Jisoo, or anyone really, Lisa was being childish.

“I can’t have you getting sick!” Jisoo fussed, trying to catch her around the table. All she wanted was for Lisa to wear warm clothing to protect her from the autumn chill. Although Lisa was very adamant her thin sweater and gloves kept her warm enough, Jisoo disagreed.

“You know that’s not possible.” Lisa doesn’t get sick. Well, she has a very low chance compared to other people.

“Still, I can’t have you die from hypothermia.”

“Shouldn’t you wait till winter to worry about that?” Lisa said, not understanding how a little chill in the air is going to “make her sick”, let alone kill her. It’d make more sense if it was winter, but it’s not. But then she remembered.

“Jisoo that was one time.”

“Lisa-” The door bursts open, effectively cutting Jisoo off and scaring the few shopping customers in the process.

“Help—” You stood there soaked and out of breath, a cat they soon realized was Mandu in your arms wrapped in your sweater.

Roseanne was quick to move, immediately telling customers to leave. After they did she shut the door. Lisa headed to the medicine cabinets.

You handed Mandu to Jisoo. “It’s all my fault- I knew something wasn’t right..” You cried. “They poisoned her.”

Roseanne came up to you, now with a blanket in her hands. “(Y/n)? Put this on please, you're shaking.” You shook your head, they should be worrying about Mandu.

What if…Mandu died because you took too long to save her? What if you hadn’t got there in time? You had to make sure she was okay.

“I’m fine-” you began, only to be cut off by Roseanne.

“You're not.” Roseanne's voice was hard, and stern. She sighed, "Come here.” She wrapped the cover around you. “We'll take care of her okay? Don't worry. You head home and change before you get sick."

“But-” You shut your mouth at the glare she gave you. Roseanne was scary when she was mad.

“Yes.” You agreed, albeit reluctantly. And while walking back home you couldn’t help but think if the best solution really was avoiding interaction with Mandu. After all, Roseanne has told you countless times everything happens for a reason.

Meanwhile, Minho was angry. He lashed out on his friends.

“Where is that damn cat!” He tugged at his hair, trying to think of how and when the cat could’ve gotten away. The poison definitely took it out for the time being. This was his chance. His chance to get his hands on the key without being stuck in Kai’s shadow.

But he fucked it up.

“Minho.” Minho immediately froze, he turned around with a smile on his face. Kai stood behind him. Kai stood there unimpressed, “What do you think you’re doing, going after the cat without informing me?”

“I just wanted to have a little fun, that's all.” Minho stuffed his hands in his pocket and shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

Would you like to continue? ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

[rabbitreader09]

Oh dear god… not only have i lost the request for this but also i lost the entire thing that i wrote… anyways this was requested by @donutholesarewhole WHO TUMBLR WONT LET ME TAG FOR WHATEVER REASON

Yandere! Vincent x reader x Yandere! Victor Headcanons

They had always liked you… the way you smiled, the way you moved, you lit up a room once you entered it and it was beautiful, both of them became absolutely obsessed with seeing it, so much they didn’t want anyone else to see it…

Vincent always tried isolating you, every time you came to visit hed offer for you to stay just a little longer until it was ‘too late’ and he’d pressure you to stay the night, Victor stalked you, not just when you went outside, no, he monitored everything about you life without your knowledge, that was also how he could get rid of any disturbance quickly and easily.

The two of them worked around you to make sure nobody could get too close, and boy were they good at it. Until at least, you started to catch on.

Their behavior always creeped you out a little, but at some point you just… broke. You told them that you were uncomfortable with how they treated you and that maybe you guys should start talking less, which was alarming new to the both of them, they couldn’t risk you leaving, this world is too dangerous for you to wander without them.

Vincent once again managed to get you to stay for the night, and while he was thinking about how they will fix their problem, Victor was already jumping to actions, he simply got some rope from the storage compartment, went into your room and started tying you up, since he wasn’t being very gentle it woke you up almost immediately, without much hesitation do you began to fight and scream but he didn’t care, he easily overpowered you and tied you down until you could barely move.

Your struggle obviously reached Vincent as well who quickly rushed to see what was happening, though calmed down when he saw what had happened. You expected him to help you but instead he just quietly apologized to you before leaving.

From that day forward, you were now a prisoner in the mansion, they decided to lock you up in Vincent’s room since it was the biggest with some stuff you could kill time with. They also came to the realization how much they loved knowing you were always in one spot close to them with no one there to touch you so neither of them regretted back they did.

But despite everything the both disagreed on a lot of stuff, even though being best friends they had drastically different opinions on how to treat you, especially when it came to any sort of punishment, Vincent saw Victors as ‘too extreme’ while Victor found Vincents ‘too mild’. When it’d be time to punish you for misbehavior, Vincent would suggest locking you in a cage for a day or two while Victor would suggest they’d shower you in boiling water to teach you a lesson, it was very rare they could agree on something.

They’d probably both sleep in Vincent’s bed with you since it was spacious and they weren’t about to take turns cuddling, Vincent enjoyed trapping you against his body while Victor preferred spooning, at somehow they could make both work at the same time.

Even with your now very one-sided relationship they still tried spending time with you, somewhere they missed the times you would chat care freely, the times when you actually liked them, so even if you don’t want to, they’d try and repeat these things, wether it be watching a movie or reading you a book.

If you accept your situation, things might go close to normal and they will treat you good. But if you don’t well… Victor will most likely grow extremely sadistic and threatening, using pain and other methods of intimidation to get you to do what he wants, Vincent will become cold and heartless, no longer being sweet and gentle but commanding and if he has to, violent. So this is really pick your poison.

[whatanoof]

A Push in the Right Direction

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining

Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.

A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)

You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.

But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.

You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.

Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.

There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.

But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.

---

“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.

Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”

His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”

“What?”

He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”

Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.

“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”

“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.

Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.

Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.

Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.

You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“

“I wouldn--” Cal protests.

“You would.” You snap.

“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.

“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.

BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.

Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.

“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.

Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.

You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”

Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”

You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”

---

Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”

Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.

The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.

A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.

Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”

Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”

It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”

“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”

“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”

But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.

An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”

A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.

“Cal!”

You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!

His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.

Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”

You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”

Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.

You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”

“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.

You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.

Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--

His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.

You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”

He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.

“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.

Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.

He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.

“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?

“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.

“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.

Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.

Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.

Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.

But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?

Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.

“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.

“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.

The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.

You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?

Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.

Speaking of…

You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.

Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.

But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.

But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--

Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.

“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.

“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”

What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”

Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.

You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.

But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.

“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.

---

The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.

What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.

You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.

His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.

---

A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.

You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.

Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.

---

Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.

But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.

He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.

But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?

You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.

---

You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.

“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.

Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.

Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.

“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.

It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.

A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.

His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

---

Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.

As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--

Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.

The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.

Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--

Well, unless he fucked you.

But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.

But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.

---

Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.

Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.

“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”

There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.

You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.

You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.

You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”

“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.

You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”

He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”

“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.

“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”

“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”

His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”

So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.

---

Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.

You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--

Did you just come again?

The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.

He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.

Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…

---

The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.

But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”

You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.

He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”

“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.

Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.

“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”

You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”

“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.

Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.

“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.

If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”

Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.

Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.

Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.

As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.

‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.

‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.

He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?

He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?

The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.

“I love you.”

You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.

“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."

‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.

“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”

He grunts unintelligibly.

“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”

A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.

Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)

Taglist: @alliterative-albatross

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Okayyyy now that I've slept on that episode I am ready to do some good old traumamongering so let's look at how Loki's responses to his environment and those around him are informed by his trauma--and how Mobius/the TVA are using his trauma to manipulate him.

One of the ways Loki deals with unpleasant or stressful situations is to verbally maneuver or posture, to try to assert control (if he feels he can reasonably do so). We see him do this with Tony in Avengers, who during their confrontation--at least for the moment--poses no active threat; instead of attacking him, Loki talks. In Thor, Loki tries several times to defuse situations with his words, which generally goes poorly for him. But when it comes to handling stress, it's essentially all he knows how to do--Mobius is absolutely right to point out that Loki "loves to talk," but usually his silver tongue is borne out of necessity.

In this case, starting from the moment of his escape, we see a lot of talking from Loki that is not strictly necessary. When he lands in Mongolia, the very first thing he does is make a speech to the bystanders--literally and figuratively trying to get his bearings. He's not aggressive at all (which would confuse the Avengers were they to see him, but wow, it's almost like Thanos/the Mind Stone was influencing him!) and seems quite at a loss as to what to do when the people he's addressing don't understand him. When the TVA agents try to arrest him, he tries to ask them what's going on, and gives plenty of warning (and posturing!) before attempting to physically assert himself. In the TVA itself, this continues. Loki complains, tries to intimidate, questions, and even talks to machines with no other real witnesses (twice). He's pulling out all the stops, so to speak, to try to verbally establish control of his situation. He's trying to get his bearings, to assert his autonomy and individuality--but no one is listening to him.

When that doesn't work, and only when a lot of that doesn't work, does Loki attempt physical control of his environment. He first tries his magic (something familiar to him) and is shocked when that also doesn't work. The TVA is already a foreign environment, but because none of Loki's usual and comfortable methods of surviving are working, it becomes more foreign, and more stressful. That's why he escalates to actively resisting the guards (but note he doesn't try too hard once someone (Mobius) starts talking). Physical resistance has never been Loki's forte, so he plays to his strengths while he can, but when that fails and he gets more desperate, he has to get creative.

But when Loki is stressed enough that he starts to physically fight back, the illusion of confidence starts to break down. We see this continue really clearly in the interrogation room scene. The subject matter actively makes Loki uncomfortable. His attempts to deflect or lie aren't effective, and his words once again fail to control his situation or even shield him from what he'd like to avoid. Unable to escape the direct questions, Loki again becomes physically restless and uncomfortable, standing and pacing while growing more obviously agitated. The questions Mobius is asking are ones Loki does not want to think about, and that's because they ultimately hit on his most vulnerable points.

The question of "What would you do if you could go back?" while seeming rather innocuous, is really a well-disguised gateway to all of Loki's trauma and insecurity. Why does he feel he should rule Midgard? Well, Loki attempts to respond, that's what he deserves, it's what he was born for--but it wasn't, really, and he knows it. Firstly, when it comes to his royal birthright, Loki has always fallen back on that as a grounding mechanism. It's what he asserts to claim his identity and feel powerful and in control. He does this with being a god, too, and we see him do this several times just within the TVA. But ultimately, it's just words--the real power is with those who can make what they want to happen actually happen, and in Loki's life, that has never been him. (Even talking about his birthright, and the concept of ruling, brings up the traumatic events of Thor 1; and the fact that he was looking to rule Midgard, not Asgard, means that he would still be playing second-fiddle to Thor. Midgard wasn't his birthright--Asgardians never ruled directly on Earth. It was just the best he could get.) And secondly, Loki's attack of Earth was directly caused and influenced by Thanos. That is the main source of trauma that Loki is desperately trying to avoid, and the questions he's being asked don't allow him to do so. He can't weasel out of it; Mobius is too persistent, and he knows all the worst buttons to push. In fact, he's systematically targeting Loki's weaknesses.

Look at the questions and statements he uses: "For someone born to rule, you sure lose an awful lot." Your birthright is false and you know it. "You weren't born to be a king. You were born to help others become the best versions of themselves." He juxtaposes this with footage of the Avengers, Thor among them: your identity only matters so far as you can enable others, especially your brother. Loki starts avoiding looking at the footage, becoming less brazen with his attitude and responses, so Mobius asks, "What is it that you're running from?" It's at about this point that Loki stands up, trying to physically distance himself from both Mobius and the question. This interaction reveals much about what Mobius is intending by this conversation. He's not trying to learn about Loki, necessarily. He already knows Loki is running from something, and seems to know what it is, which wouldn't be immediately clear to someone uninformed. What he's really trying to do is make Loki vulnerable, and make him admit it.

Mobius uses Loki's role in his mother's death to push him over the edge. Immediately, Loki turns on Mobius, furiously insisting that the whole thing is an illusion--more desperate verbal posturing, and Mobius treats it as such--and then Loki snaps, first throwing a chair at the painful image of his mother, which promptly reforms (it's inescapable), and then trying to attack Mobius. The fact that Loki is lashing out physically means he is desperate, but even his last resort isn't effective. He simply can't protect himself. He's powerless. That's triggering in and of itself.

But it's the footage that's the final blow. After escaping his restraints, he returns to the very room he left, and looks at his life. And he cries. He's so vulnerable and hurting and scared that in his first moment alone, he cries. And just as he thought he'd have a little bit of comfort, even laughing to see his improving relationship with Thor, he watches himself die a humiliating, pitiful, ignoble death, and hears himself say, "You will never be a god"--and that old boast means nothing because Thanos snaps his neck anyway. That moment, seeing the thing he was running from catch up to him and kill him, is his final emotional breaking point. When Loki laughs and bitterly says, "Glorious purpose," that's the end of the posturing. He's admitting Mobius was right: he didn't have a glorious purpose, or a glorious anything. Which is why when Mobius comes back, Loki tells the truth, unprompted. He actually calls himself weak. He admits he's been putting up an illusion in a feeble attempt to get control of his situation.

This level of vulnerability from Loki is unheard of, and speaks to how utterly he's been worn down by the very intentional psychological manipulation of Mobius and the TVA. When Loki entered, he was actively opposing them. Now, after having been massively triggered and emotionally exhausted, he's suggestible, and by playing a friendly angle, Mobius can manipulate Loki into working with them--and, literally, against himself.

Whether he has good intentions or no, that makes Mobius a truly formidable player, and one Loki--and we--shouldn't be too hastily comfortable with. He is clearly a master manipulator, and has no qualms using Loki's trauma to break him.

But what should be most concerning of all is that he succeeds. Because the only other person to have ever done that?

Is Thanos.